Dirty Little Tricks

by Clare James

  “I do say no. All the time, in fact.”

  “Right.”

  “That’s why I’m calling, actually. I need a back-up plan. Tell me what’s on the agenda for the masquerade.”

  “Okay,” he says. “But you’re not going to like it.”

  ***

  Jameson was right. I don’t like the theme of the party. Or the planned activities. Or the attendee list. But this is why I have a back-up.

  How much did Stevie know when she planned this evening out?

  It doesn’t matter now, I’m just going to focus on giving her a night she won’t forget.

  After Jameson brings me up to speed on the ins and outs of the masquerade party, and agrees to keep an eye on Stevie for me, I book a limo to take us to Venus, just like old times. If Stevie wants to relive our early days together, that’s exactly what we’ll do.

  I’ve got it all covered. Though my nerves are getting the best of me with all the waiting.

  She’s still not ready.

  I pace around the bedroom before finally settling the anxiety with a scotch on the terrace.

  Most of the kids have gone home now, but the streets remain buzzing with people heading to parties or the bar. It’s time for the adult portion of the night.

  Pacing on the terrace now, I remember how much I used to love it out here. The bustle of the city, the noise, the people. Even when I was alone, I would come out here and feel alive, like I was a part of the world going on under my feet. A reminder that even if I barricaded myself inside, life would go on. With or without me.

  Now it just seems claustrophobic. I need more space and less people and concrete.

  Our new brownstone has a full yard with grass and flowers and trees, instead of this tiny slab of cement. When I first looked at the place, I immediately got images of barbeques and family gatherings and shit… a kid.

  A little tow-headed girl running around the yard creating havoc, just as I’m sure Stevie did as a child. Yet as amazing as the scene was, it scared the piss out of me. I hadn’t let myself think of the future like that in so many years. It was hard to breathe.

  I left the realtor there for a minute and went for a walk in the new neighborhood, and the images kept coming. Stevie and I walking to the coffee shop on a Sunday morning; hailing a cab to get my pregnant wife to the hospital; pushing a stroller; teaching my daughter how to ride a bike.

  My future was taking shape, and as scary as it was, I wanted it so bad I could taste it.

  When I returned from my walk, I bought the place on the spot.

  I couldn’t wait to get her there.

  “What are you doing out here?” Stevie says, joining me outside, looking like a very fuckable Halloween princess. She takes a sip of my drink and shivers; I tuck her under my arm.

  I want to share the moment with her, and really tell her what I’m doing out here and what I’m thinking. Tell her about my plans for our future. But, honestly, I’m distracted by the thought of what’s under her coat.

  “I’m thinking that you look like a present I want to open,” I whisper in her ear. “Now.”

  “Don’t you dare,” she hisses. “I want to see if you can find me on your own tonight. In the sea of black. You can’t cheat by getting a look at my outfit.”

  “I would know you anywhere, Stevie,” I say. “It doesn’t matter if you’re in a crowd of people, my body always knows when you’re near.”

  “We’ll see.”

  I know part of this is a game to her, shaking things up and bringing some excitement to our domesticated bliss. But I wonder if it’s also a test.

  If so, it’s one I will not fail.

  Tonight will be all about chaos with limits. Just the way I prefer. Especially where Stevie’s concerned.

  At least Jameson was on board.

  I had it all mapped out. Once we get through all the fun bullshit, I’ll be there to intervene when things turn freaky. Nobody is touching her but me. Whether she knows it or not.

  Jameson will be there for the pairing off and, when she’s ready, I’d be the one to take over.

  That I am sure of.

  But first, we have a stop to make.

  Chapter 14

  Stevie

  Gabe looks edible in all black. He has the perfect coloring, and personality, for the harshness of it. His shirt is casual and open at the neck, but it’s the way his pants hang on that delectable frame drives me mad with lust. Not to mention his dark and wild mane. I can’t take my eyes off him.

  When I bought our tickets for Venus, I was told we’d be separated once we came through the doors. I’m not worried. I will be able to find him, but I secretly hope he’ll find me first. And as much as I’m willing to give in to this experiment, I still hope that we find a way to be together.

  The limo arrives and my stomach does a double summersault. Gabe always picked me up in limos when we first started dating. Still does from time-to-time, and I get wet just at the sight of one.

  My Pavlovian response, thanks to Gabe.

  He takes my hand and helps me inside before sliding me onto his lap.

  As good as he looks, he smells even better. All spice and soap and that indescribable scent that’s distinctly him. I snuggle into my blanket of Gabe and get lost for a while.

  The limo stops at a random building currently under construction and I realize we’re not even close to the club.

  “Do you trust me?” Gabe asks when I meet his eyes.

  “Yes, of course,” I say as he pulls me out of the car. “But what about the party?”

  “We’ll be there in plenty of time,” he says. “I just want to make a quick stop to check-in on one of my buildings.”

  “You bought another one?” I ask, confused. This was a residential area and I didn’t think he had any new projects in the works.

  “I’m trying something new,” he says. “It’s one of the reasons I’ve been working so much. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry if I’ve been neglecting you, baby. But that’s all going to change.”

  He seems so pained when he says it, I feel bad for being angry with him when he’s been working so hard.

  “This is an amazing neighborhood.”

  “You like it?”

  “Love it,” I tell him. “What are you going to do with the space?”

  “Well, right now, I’m going to fuck you in it.”

  Wha— gah, I can’t even talk.

  Gabe runs his hands over my arms. “Okay?” he asks, even though we both know it’s not a question.

  Before I can answer, he ties a blindfold over my eyes while I’m still too dumbstruck to move.

  “I’m not sure what’s going to happen once we get to the club, but you will have me all over you when we get there. And you will remember who you are going home with.”

  He picks me up and takes me inside.

  Once we’re in the building, Gabe gently sets me on something soft. A bed or couch? I’m not sure. Male voices rumble above us.

  “Don’t worry,” Gabe says. “It’s the night crew working upstairs. They won’t be coming down. At least I don’t think they will.”

  I can’t even process the dirty thoughts I have about people coming down to watch as Gabe has his way with me. My head is swimming in a lust-induced state as my belly warms and all my body’s sensors rise to the surface. Every touch, every sound, is magnified.

  A pounding noise from above echoes in the open space, my heart synchronizes to it and the sensation is powerful. The intensity has my body alive with want.

  Gabe yanks my arms up over my head and ties them to something; I breathe through the fear, as his words play in my head. You will have me all over you.

  He does the same binding technique to my legs, pulling them wide. With a wet kiss under my ear, he tugs on the restraints to make sure they’ll hold.

  With quick fingers, he opens my coat and releases a guttural sound deep in his throat. It doesn’t sound human.

  Moisture immediately pool
s between my legs.

  With a few tugs on my corset, the laces loosen, and he yanks it right off my body. My nipples pucker as the cool air hits the sensitive flesh. Gabe warms them with his tongue.

  I arch into his mouth, craving this and wanting to be even closer.

  He chuckles and pushes me back down on the bed.

  “Such a greedy girl,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. He’s always loved the way I respond to him.

  With a little rustling and a lot of maneuvering, I find my skirt bunched up around my waist and my panties pulled to the side.

  “You are so fucking wet,” he says in a clipped tone.

  “That’s because you’re so fucking hot,” I tell him. “I want you so badly.”

  Silence.

  “Please,” I beg.

  “I’m sorry, but this isn’t your show, Ms. Sinclair.”

  He pulls away from me and it feels so empty without him close. My body aches, pulsing in hungry throbs and needy quivers.

  “This is my show and I control what we do and when,” he says, closer now. He’s leaning above me and I pull against the restraints as the urge to grab him becomes so strong I can’t contain it.

  His breath is hot on my chest as his hands find my hips. With a tight squeeze, he impales me with his thick length and it takes my breath away. He slides out slowly, slowly, slowly, only to slam into me again and again.

  I’ve never felt more his in this moment as he continues to take what he wants from me. And I’m trapped in a haze of utter compliance, wanting to be possessed by him. Aching to be his.

  Gabe continues his thrusts rhythmically. Slamming into me so hard and pulling out so painfully slow.

  “How does this feel, baby?” he asks in my ear. “It’s been too long since I’ve taken you like this. I will never wait that long again.”

  I love that we don’t have to use condoms anymore, the feel of him bare, inside me. I think I maybe enjoy it even more than he does. No more pomp and circumstance. He can take me whenever and wherever he wants, and that is hotter than Hades.

  “So good,” are the only two words I can put together in this state.

  Another rasping thrust in and lazy drag out, and his lips find mine. His tongue following the same movement as his cock. I’m on fire and sure I’m going to combust from the pleasure, or go blind, or be sent to hell in a hand basket, or whatever else the nuns used to tell me about sinners.

  Bring it on.

  Gabe alters his moves and if possible it feels even more amazing. Faster strokes with a roll of the hip and my eyes fall back in my head.

  Wild, firm drives deep inside. Quick, but thorough, giving me more than I need.

  My core tightens, and my lips part.

  Each motion brings me closer to the edge.

  And when his hand reaches between us to find my swollen and aching bud of nerves, I fall.

  ***

  Mission accomplished.

  If Gabe wanted me to be thinking of nothing other than him and his so very skillful cock when I walked into Venus, he did his job. Though after that performance, I don’t know why we’re even here.

  We walk into the grand foyer of Club Venus, the very room that had me in awe during my first visit. It’s dimly lit by the sconces on the ivory walls, just as it always is. Gabe squeezes my hand as we pass the dark velvet curtain, to the small sanctuary, where a large sculpture of the Goddess stands prominently.

  Neither of us talks as we cross the threshold into the main room where a line of cupids (the staff at the club) wait for new arrivals. Dressed all in white, they radiate a lavender glow from the lights inside.

  Gabe kisses my hand before stopping in front of a rather large man lying on the floor. He then steps on the man’s back and walks across him. Gabe signals for me to do the same.

  I shake my head. I’m not stepping on this guy.

  “He’s a human rug, Stevie. He gets off on people walking on him.”

  And that’s our Halloween welcome to Venus.

  We pick up our preference tags, where our files (that include everything we like or don’t like) are loaded on a scannable wristband.

  Then the crowd splits into two.

  Gabe gives me the most searing kiss as we part. “Be safe,” he says. “I’ll find you soon.”

  Once the men are separated from the women, the costumes are passed out.

  The women are all given black short silky robes and ornate masks.

  Mine is gorgeous with long peacock feathers around the sides.

  It feels a bit like a scene from Eyes Wide Shut. I giggle knowing how much Gabe will hate it – so cliché.

  I just hope somehow, by fate or the gods or dumb luck, that we’ll be paired off together.

  But I’d soon learn that isn’t going to happen.

  After we change, we’re brought back into the main entertainment area. It’s hard to see. My peripheral vision is impaired by my mask and feathers, and even though my ears aren’t covered, everything seems muffled.

  It’s hard to tell who people are because the room is dark and everything is distorted with the music and lights and the dry ice-induced fog.

  Cirque-type performers, in little to no clothing, hang from long ribbons of fabric in a seductive dance. Others are floating back and forth in a makeshift swing.

  That’s the theme of the party: Swing-o-Ween.

  There are real swings, swing music, and people out on the floor swing dancing.

  The cupids pass out gin cocktails and my eyes scan the room for Gabe. It’s harder than I thought to make out any distinct features in the mess of people.

  Suddenly, one of the cupids is taking my hand.

  “You’ve been selected,” she says. “Follow me.”

  Chapter 15

  Gabe

  I’m good now. The image of consuming Stevie in our new home – not that she knew where we were – will hold me no matter what happens tonight.

  Hell, I’m even looking forward to it. Torturing her. Surprising her. Taking her again in one of the rooms.

  It’s not long before we’re split up, but I’m still surprisingly calm. The release of a ten-day celibacy run is bound to do that to a guy. I slide my mask on, as well as the hooded cloak they gave to me.

  Very Eyes Wide Shut and totally cheesy. But hey, it’s the new owner’s place to do as she pleases now. Plus, Sylvie is no idiot. I’m sure all the newcomers tonight find the atmosphere mysterious and alluring.

  Inside, the cupids are diligently gathering all the participants, getting in place for the big game. I know how this will go. They’ll start with the crowd’s most appealing women. And yes, even with the masks, you can tell. Plus, the cupids had the guest list before everyone arrived. This ritual is completely planned out.

  About fifteen women move forward to the center of the room, the cupids guide them into a circle. Of course, Stevie is right there with them. I knew she would be.

  The women take off their robes and I have to fight every protective instinct in my body to stay put and not cover up her freshly fucked body.

  Stevie takes a seat in the chairs arranged for the women, and I have to stand by and let everyone watch.

  A man in a tux and a very creepy white mask walks around the circle. Stopping in front of each woman, he signals her to stand up and spin for the onlookers. To which they stomp their feet in admiration.

  Jameson waves for my attention from the corner of the room and pushes his palms down as if to say, easy, big fella. He’s all decked out in the black garb with a red mask that covers most of his face. The only reason I can make him out is because he told me about the mask; and by the way he spotted me so quickly I venture he also selected mine.

  Stevie will never recognize either of us.

  Thank Christ he agreed to be here for me.

  Though I introduced Jameson to sex clubs – with the help of Tash – he’s the person in his element here. When I was looking to sell the club, he was first on my list, but I d
idn’t even get a bite out of him.

  “This is my pleasure,” he said. “Not my business. Owning the club would take all the fun out of it.”

  Still, he obviously has some pull. Jameson whispers something to one of the cupids, who immediately takes my girl off to the dance floor, where he joins her. Innocent enough, they’d have themselves a little dance before progressing to one of the contraptions in the corners of one of the private rooms.

  Soon each woman is placed in the arms of a waiting man, not that I’m paying attention. My eyes are glued to the dance floor.

  Stevie begins swaying to the music, but her eyes continue to dart around the room. She’s looking for me. At least I hope she is. And hell if it isn’t a relief that she looks like I feel – anxious, apprehensive, unsure.

  A light tap on my shoulder has me turning away for the briefest of seconds.

  Still, it’s long enough to be paired up as well.

  “Hello,” a tiny woman says in a very small voice. Well, not quite a woman. She’s much more girlish than the rest in the group. If I had to guess, I’d put her at twenty.

  As I turn to answer her greeting, I instantly recognize this girl.

  Her jasmine scent is inviting. There’s no denying it. Her body so very sinful – young, taut, lean, and the most arresting caramel color I’ve ever seen. Her hair is a shiny cap of black silk that reflects the light from the strobe flickering around the room.

  She has the look of being untouched, all innocent and pristine, but as I look closer, I know better. She has been more than touched. She’s been harmed.

  It’s April.

  Shit.

  April’s cupid hands me a paper profile. It is long and detailed. Tonight, she’s a guest of the club and doesn’t have her preferences coded on her wristband like the regulars, so we’re doing things the old fashioned way.

  As I read over her likes, I see why they paired us. At one point I used to be very, very good at this. I feel the slightest itch at the memory – which seems like a lifetime ago.

  ***