Dirty

by Ella Miles

  I walk past door after door. I don’t stop to look inside any of the rooms, even the ones that have lights on and voices inside. I take a left and then a right as I feel myself getting closer to Arlo. I don’t know how I know where to go. Call it a sixth sense, intuition, or chance. Maybe it is plain dumb luck. Call it whatever you want, but when my feet stop automatically in front of a set of double wooden doors, I know that Arlo is behind it. Knocking would be the proper thing to do, but I’ve never been about doing the proper thing. And I know my chances with Arlo are slim. This might even be my last chance with him. I need to surprise him, throw him off guard.

  I hear music pumping mildly behind the closed doors. It’s not the quiet, classical stuff that was playing downstairs, but it’s not a song I recognize either. Something fast. Pop music with a little bit of rock. I take a deep breath, trying to slow the pounding in my heart that matches the speed of the music, but it does nothing. The music, if anything, entices me further, making me want him more. Making me want to fuck Arlo to this very song.

  I grab both handles of the closed doubled doors, push down on the levers, and then swing the doors wide open.

  My heart jumps in my chest when I see Arlo. My eyes glow with lust, and I feel my panties soak.

  I should be shocked at what I see. I should gasp or blush or run away. But, instead, I’m just incredibly turned on.

  Arlo doesn’t widen his eyes or even raise an eyebrow when he sees me. He looks at me like I belong in his doorway. Maybe he put a spell on me that led me directly to his door. He’s sitting in a fancy chair that looks like a throne. His shirt is unbuttoned, letting me see every ripple of muscle on his chest down to the V that hides his cock beneath his tux pants. His eyes are fixated on me. I have no idea how I can be capturing any of his attention when he has three almost naked women around him with their hands all over his body. Their lips kissing and worshipping every inch of him. Their bodies willingly providing a very seductive show, only for him.

  I force my eyes to tear from his and really look at the women surrounding him. Two are blondes with fair skin. One rather curvy, the other as thin as a rail. The third woman has jet-black hair and skin darker than night, her curves sitting somewhere in the middle of the other two. It doesn’t seem that he has a type.

  None of the women care that I intruded on them. In fact, they act like I’m not even here. One continues kissing Arlo while another dances over his lap, and the third kisses his neck.

  They don’t look like strippers or hookers to me. They look happy, like their purpose is to please Arlo.

  It’s just a guess though. Arlo could be paying them. But by the jewels on their necks and dripping off their ears, the lace covering their bras, and the fancy dresses draped over various furniture in the room, they seem to come from their own wealth. Or Arlo pays his hookers like queens.

  I take a second to decide my next move. No one has kicked me out, but no one has invited me in either. Other than Arlo’s intense gaze still locked on me, I might as well not be here.

  But I have to decide. Do I want to turn away and take my chances at getting him alone by myself, or do I join them now and share him with three other women?

  Both.

  I’ll join in on the fun now and try to get him on my own later.

  I take a step forward, and then I close the doors behind me. When I turn back, his eyes are still on me.

  This is going to be too easy, I think.

  I reach behind me and find the zipper on my dress, quickly pulling it down. I slip my arms out of the straps and let the dress slink down my body. I shimmy it over my hips before it falls to pile on the floor. I step out of the dress and start walking toward Arlo.

  I’ve never had a threesome before, let alone a fivesome or whatever this is. But I don’t lack confidence when it comes to my body or sex. And, from the hint of surprise in Arlo’s eyes when I stepped out of the dress, I know that he appreciates my body, too.

  I walk forward until I reach the blond, who is still dancing in Arlo’s lap. I grab her hand, and I move my body close to hers until I’m rubbing up against her, dancing with her in front of Arlo. His eyes intensify even more, but he still doesn’t say anything. I turn to the blond and put a finger under her chin. I pull her toward me, off Arlo’s lap so that I can trade places with her. And then I firmly kiss her on the lips, letting our tongues tangle together and then slowly part. I keep my eyes on Arlo, showing him what I plan on doing to him when I get my turn with him.

  When I stop the kiss, I see that Arlo is deeply frowning at me. I smile. Maybe he does really want me all to himself. I move from the blond and toward Arlo, facing him as I climb up onto his lap. I hover my lips over his, prepared to tease him first until he’s begging me to kiss him.

  A second later though, I feel my body being slammed against the wall across the room with Arlo firmly holding on to my arm with one hand. He holds on to my chin with his other hand as he stares at me, breathing hard.

  I bite my lip to keep from smiling.

  He wants me all to himself, I think.

  “Excuse me, ladies. I have to deal with some business,” Arlo says. Not bothering to look at them as he drags me through another door and into a dark room.

  “I knew you wanted me,” I say.

  Arlo throws me into the room, releasing my arm as he does. I fall to the cold tiled floor, off-balance from my heels and the force he used to push me inside.

  He leaves the lights off, but I can still make him out as he walks back to the door.

  “You have no idea what I want,” he says matter-of-factly before shutting the door.

  Then, I hear the door lock.

  I slowly get off the floor, feeling my hands around until I find cabinets. I pull myself up and find a sink, mirror, shower, and toilet. I move in the dark until I find the door, but the knob doesn’t budge.

  That motherfucker locked me in the bathroom with no clothes.

  I can already hear him grunting and moaning with the women outside while I’m trapped, listening to him fuck other women. I’m no longer sure that he’s going to come back and fuck me after.

  That bastard.

  4

  Nina

  I’m going mad. The sound of Arlo fucking those whores is making me crazy. I’ve tried to distract myself by going through the drawers and cabinets in his bathroom. But I’m pretty sure that this isn’t the main bathroom he uses. All I’ve found are a few towels, a full bottle of soap, and a box of condoms. Nothing really to go through to learn about Arlo. Nothing to reorganize and distract myself with.

  Now, every moan, every groan, every grunt is going to forever be burned into my memory. I’m never going to forget the sound that Arlo makes when he’s had his turn with each of the women. The sound of their bodies banging together, completed with vivid images from my own imagination. My jealousy at not getting to be one of his girls consumes me.

  I don’t understand why Arlo won’t let me fuck him like all the rest of the women. How am I any different? But, on the other hand, I also don’t understand why he let me go as far as I did before he stopped me. Why did he let me strip for him? Why did he let me dance on his lap? Why did he stop me only when I went in for a kiss?

  I don’t have the answers, only questions. Questions that are driving me mad. I have no idea how long they fuck, but it seems like hours pass until they stop. They don’t talk when they’re done. Not a, Was that good for you?, Did you come?, or, I’ll walk you out. They just stop.

  And then there’s nothing for me to hear but silence. And, somehow, this feels worse than listening to them fuck. I feel empty and abandoned.

  I wait a few seconds for the door to open, but it doesn’t open.

  I walk over to it and try the doorknob again, hoping that, this time, it will somehow be unlocked. But the doorknob doesn’t budge. Pushing on the door doesn’t help either. Despite the house being hundreds of years old, the door is solid. There is no way I’m breaking the door or the lock.

/>   I walk back to the rug in front of the bathtub, and I sit down. I shiver immediately from the cold. I remove my heels, setting them on the floor next to me, so that I can be as comfortable as I can while I wait. And then I hug my legs against my chest to try to stay warm.

  Waiting for Arlo to unlock the door.

  Waiting for Arlo to give me answers.

  Waiting to plan my revenge.

  I consider yelling for help, but I don’t think it would do me any good. Arlo seems like a stubborn man who takes complete control. Screaming would just leave me exhausted and worn out.

  So, instead of screaming, I try to come up with a plan to make him as jealous and angry as he’s made me. I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes, letting my mind drift off as I imagine ways that I can make him jealous.

  I quickly sit up, startled by the sound of footsteps.

  I smile slowly. Finally.

  But the footsteps don’t come toward my door. Instead, more footsteps join them. Followed by sounds of kissing, of spit being swapped, of tongues tangling, and of bodies joining together with sweat and lust.

  Bastard is fucking them. Again.

  I’m not going to let him get to me.

  So, I close my eyes and drop my hand down my body to where my panties are soaking wet. Despite how angry and jealous I am, I’ve never been more turned on by a man in my life. I won’t let him break me. I don’t know why, but I know that’s what he’s doing. I won’t let him win. My fingers slip inside my panties and I pleasure myself to the sound of his groans, pretending he’s fucking me instead of them.

  The door opens, and I jump awake. I must have drifted off to sleep in the cold bathroom after making myself come on the floor—twice.

  “Why does it smell like sex in here?” Arlo asks as he steps into the dark bathroom.

  With lust-filled eyes, I look up at him from my spot on the floor. “I was turned on and had no one to help me, so I took care of myself.”

  He smirks. “Feel better now?”

  I want to lie to him. I want to tell him, Yes, I feel perfectly satisfied now, but the way he looks at me makes it impossible for me to lie to him.

  “No.”

  “Get up,” he says.

  I do.

  “Get dressed.” He tosses my dress at me, and then he turns and walks out of the bathroom.

  I put the dress on, but I don’t zip it up. For one, it’s almost impossible to zip up by myself, and two, I want him to have to touch my body. I don’t bother with my shoes either. I just pick them up and then carry them out of the bathroom. It feels like defiance while still following his command. I love it.

  He disapprovingly looks at me but doesn’t say anything about the fact that my dress is still unzipped.

  “How did you know that I would come tonight?” I ask.

  He walks over to a small bar I didn’t see before in the corner of the bedroom and pours himself what looks like scotch from the decanter on the table. He doesn’t offer me any as he walks back to me. He’s fully dressed again in his tuxedo, as if the last few hours didn’t even happen. The girls are gone. The only remaining clue that they were ever here is the lingering smell of sex still clinging to the room. The smell alone makes me infuriated, but I will not let him know that. He doesn’t get to know how jealous or angry he made me. Not until he pays for what he did to me.

  “Because it’s my business to know everything about everyone in this town, including spoiled, rich girls who are only here for four weeks.”

  I take a deep breath, but I can’t help but glare at him. Everything about him drives insane. I have so many questions left to ask, but I know his patience won’t last long. And my patience has completely run dry.

  “Why didn’t you let me fuck you like the others?”

  He looks at me straight on without blinking. “Because you’re not in my debt.”

  “What…what does that mean?”

  He sips his scotch, completely unfazed by my questions. “I run a business that loans out money and services along with many other things. I accept many forms of payment for the debt. Those women were just paying me back.”

  I blink rapidly as my brain tries to understand what he just said.

  “I’m in your debt. You saved me, now I owe you.”

  “No. I didn’t save you. I just wanted an excuse to stop having to give the tour. Pretending to save you was that excuse. You owe me nothing.”

  “But—”

  “No. You are not in my debt. I’ll admit that, that day you infatuated me. I had to touch you. But then I came to my senses after I jumped in that pool after you.”

  I hesitate. “And what if I want to be in your debt?”

  He frowns. “You can’t. You will never be in my debt.”

  I grimace, completely confused. “But, if that’s your business, then why don’t you want me in your debt?”

  His lip twitches. “You don’t get to know that. You need to forget about me. Forget about this place. Find yourself another Italian boy to satisfy you for the next couple of weeks. That man won’t be me.”

  I don’t understand, but it’s clear that I’m not going to get any more answers out of him tonight. But I’ve got enough for now. Enough to form a plan because I’d do anything to be in his debt. Even after he tortured me by locking me in the bathroom. I still want a chance to fuck the man that saved me one second and then has done everything to keep me away from him the next. A man that could have just told his guards not to let me in, but instead put me on the guest list and then locked me away when I came for him. I want to know what kind of man does something so contradictory.

  “Zip me up,” I say instead of asking more questions.

  I turn around and wait. To my surprise, his hands firmly grip the zipper, and he slowly zips up my dress. I can feel his hot breath on my neck, and his grip on my hip makes me think that he wants to be unzipping my dress instead of zipping it up.

  When he’s done, he turns me around and grabs me by the neck, tightening his grip so that I truly can’t breathe.

  “Stop, Nina. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. Stop flirting. Stop coming after me. Or I’ll make you stop.”

  He releases my throat, and I cough.

  “Gregorio Manuel,” Arlo says.

  A man enters the room, who I recognize as the security guard from before. He’s been waiting outside the door for who knows how long.

  Did he follow me the whole way to Arlo’s room?

  “Escort Miss Young away, please, and make sure she doesn’t return for the night,” Arlo says before walking out of the room.

  The security guard looks at me and then grabs me by the arm. He escorts me out into the empty hallway. Arlo has already disappeared. My mind races with everything he said as the guard leads me down hallways. I assume he is taking me out of the mansion. But that’s not what happens. Instead of leading me back out, he takes me down a staircase and into a dark room.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “As Mr. Carini instructed, making sure you don’t return tonight or ever again.”

  He pushes me into the dark room, which looks like a dungeon, and closes the door. He locks it, trapping me for the second time tonight.

  5

  Nina

  The light beams in as the door to the room is flung open. I sharply turn my head away, trying to avoid the pain in my eyes from the sudden brightness. I don’t know why I bother though when a slight pain from the light is nothing compared to the pain I feel in my body.

  “Let me help you up,” Gregorio, the guard, says.

  I don’t respond. I don’t look at him. I don’t move. I just sit like I have been sitting all night. I clutch my legs tight against my chest with my arms wrapped around them for warmth while I sit on the dirt-covered floor, freezing. It turns out, a dark dungeon without air-conditioning, even with my clothes on, is much colder than a heated bathroom without my clothes.

  “Get up, Nina,” he says as he reache
s toward my hand.

  When his rough fingers brush the skin on my arm, I jump.

  “Don’t touch me,” I say as I push his arm away and stand up on my own.

  I stare at the man who has held me captive all night.

  I spent the first hour shouting at him through the bars in the door to let me out, that he couldn’t do this to me, that it wasn’t legal. But the man never broke. He just stood there, silently guarding me, not getting any sleep either. He should be just as sleep-deprived and agitated as I am, but he doesn’t seem to be that way. He seems so calm, cool, and collected.

  But the guard isn’t really the man I should be angry with because he isn’t my captor. Arlo is. And, unlike this man in front of me, I feel completely broken. All it took to break me was one night alone in the cold dungeon, but I’m a fast healer. And it has just made me even more determined to get what I want.

  “There is a car waiting to take you home.”

  I start walking toward the door. “Tell Arlo—”

  “I will tell Mr. Carini nothing but the answer to the one question he wanted me to ask. Will you leave Mr. Carini and his whole family alone now?”

  I pause for a second, staring into his eyes that although dark also seem kind. He’s just a man doing his job. He is just the messenger. There is not the same touch of evil in his eyes like there is in Arlo’s. I should say yes and not let him know my plans. But I tried surprise before, and he was already one step ahead of me.

  “No,” I say.

  He sighs. “Mr. Carini said that you would say that.”

  “Then, why did you even bother asking?”

  “Because I hoped you were smarter than the rest of them.” He releases his grip on my arm. “Your ride is waiting out front. I’ll escort you.”