Dirty Bad Wrong

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Dirty Bad Wrong Page 14

by Jade West


  He reached out a hand, just for a moment, just long enough to run a finger down my cheek. “I know you don’t want another Mr Comfortable, but you don’t want this either. You think you do, but you don’t. I know you don’t want your career getting messy any more than I do. I know you well enough to know that, Cat. We have to draw a line under this before it gets out of hand. Can we go back to being James and Lydia, please? I know I messed up. I know it was me who barged my way into your room last night and I’m sorry for that.”

  “I’m not,” I said, simply. “I’m not sorry at all.”

  “You will be, when it fucks your career.”

  I clutched my hands to my temples, thinking, thinking, thinking. Sensible Lydia agreed with him, tried to regain some perspective. “You’re right, of course, you’re right.”

  He smiled, a faint smile, part relief, part something else. “I had a great night, an excellent night.”

  “So did I,” I said, preparing to walk away. He took a step aside to let me pass, but I placed a hand on his shoulder on the way. Please, Lord, let this work. “Look, no hard feelings, I’m sure Rebecca will set me up with someone else at Explicit, she’s been trying hard enough.”

  His eyebrows pitted, mouth clamping instantly. “You’re planning on going back to Explicit?”

  I smiled. “Well, of course. I want to explore this new side of me... where else would I go? It seems pretty cool there, I like it. I guess I’ll see you around.” I took another step forwards but he pulled me back, pinning me to the side of the coffee stand.

  “Don’t do this, Lydia, please.”

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t make this impossible for me.”

  I stared him out. “Don’t make what impossible for you?”

  “This. This sensibility. It won’t work if you’re at Explicit every weekend, it just won’t work.”

  “I’m not going to ignore my fantasies, just because you don’t want to fuck me again. I’m going to Explicit, James, just as often as Rebecca will take me. It doesn’t have to be a problem. I’ll meet someone else, don’t worry about it.” I tried to make my way past him, but he blocked my route, barring me with the solid muscle wall of his chest. I could only imagine the chimera below his suit, taut over tight skin.

  “Jesus Christ, Lydia, don’t you fucking get it?” he seethed. “I don’t fucking want you to meet someone else at Explicit. I can just about cope with seeing you in the office every fucking day, but this, this Explicit thing is totally unviable for me.”

  “Well, what do you suggest then?” I snapped. “That I just totter off like a good girl and never darken your door again?”

  “No, of course not.”

  We stared at each other, both fiery and tense and seriously pissed off. Stalemate. I shrugged, lost for words. “I dunno what I can say.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Thoughts ticked by slowly, struggling for resolution. I decided to take my chances. “Ok, so let’s back up a bit. The work thing is bad, right, I get it. I agree with it. Fucking co-workers is a disaster waiting to happen. It couldn’t work.”

  “Most certainly,” he said. “It’s not feasible.”

  “Fine, so James and Lydia are no more, we keep it professional, we do our job, we keep things straight between us and get back to normal.”

  “That was my thinking on it, yes,” he said, warily.

  “But what about Masque and Cat?” I said. “What about their personal time?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going with this?”

  “Just think about it a minute. We’re both private people, right? We both know how to keep our business to ourselves. So, what if Cat and Masque did their own thing, completely outside of our normal lives. No crossover, no awkwardness, no mention whatsoever of Explicit, not even the vaguest hint that there is anything extra-curricular about James and Lydia.”

  “You propose Masque and Cat have an Explicit-only relationship? Is that what you’re saying?” I nodded. “And you really think that will work?”

  “I think it might.”

  “And Cat is really happy to fuck Masque in a public-only environment, is she? No strings, no late night cuddles, no in-bed sex with warm sheets and cosy pillows...”

  “Cat’s happy to fuck Masque wherever she needs to.”

  Seconds ticked by so slowly. I could see him weighing it up, running it through his mind. My heart pounded, waiting for his verdict.

  “I guess Cat will have to speak with Masque when she sees him at Explicit, see what they can work out.”

  I breathed out in relief, a smile blooming on my face. “Cat and Masque will have to wait a few weeks, until Rebecca can take a guest again.”

  He cocked his head. “I think Cat might find herself on the guest list tomorrow night. Masque has platinum VIP membership, he can take a guest whenever he fucking wants.”

  “Then Cat will be there.” I beamed.

  I walked away before he could change his mind.

  ***

  Chapter Eleven

  James

  “Ah, James! I was expecting your call. I wondered which one of you would get me first. How was Brighton? Good, I hope?”

  “Cut the crap, Rebecca. Just what the hell have you been doing?”

  She cackled so loudly I moved the handset from my ear. “Was three enough? I thought a twelve-pack may have been overkill.”

  “We didn’t have any spare afterwards.”

  “I should hope not. Our lovely Lydia deserved a good session of cock. Please tell me you managed to make her cry? She’s such a guarded little cookie, that one... no tears at all, and believe me, I’ve been trying.”

  I ignored her completely, filing her revelation for later. “What the fucking hell were you thinking? That little Explicit stunt could have cost me my entire fucking life.”

  “Must you always be so dramatic? She’s not a blabber, James, it would have been fine.”

  “That’s my career you’re being so blasé about.”

  “If you hadn’t taken the bait last night I’d never have taken her back to Explicit, ok? She’d never have discovered the identity of the elusive Masque. Anyway, if you’d have told me you were going to be beating the shit out of some random I’d have picked a different night to bring her along.”

  “I’m allowed to change my mind as to when I frequent Explicit, Rebecca, or are you going to fill the place with more of my professional associates every time I take a fucking night off?”

  I heard her slide her balcony door open, light up a cigarette on the roof terrace. “You wanted me to do this.”

  “I really didn’t.”

  “Lie to yourself all you want, but deep down we both know you wanted her. It’s why she’s here, Masque, you wanted her at Explicit, you knew this would happen.”

  “You seem pretty fucking sure of that.”

  “I’m beyond fucking sure of that. You like her, and you should. She’s fucking awesome.” She took a long drag. “You know I always tell you the truth, James, even when it’s rough. That’s why I’m your friend.”

  A flash of remembered gratitude dulled the flames. “I know that, Bex. I haven’t forgotten what you did for me.”

  “So, I’m doing it again, only this time it’s a shitload more pleasant a task... You like her. Deal with it. I’m sure I’ll get a thank you in time. Jewellery or boots are always appreciated.”

  “Now you’re pushing it,” I snarled, but it was a front and she knew it. I heard her soft laughter, and struggled not to smile.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  I made her wait a few seconds. “Yes, you’ll see me tomorrow.”

  “Praise the Lord! Masque is back in town.”

  “It would appear that way,” I said. “Oh, and Rebecca?”

  “Yes, James?”

  “Please make sure our lovely Lydia wears plenty of eyeliner, she will be crying tomorrow night, I assure you.”

  She was whooping before I could reach the e
nd-call button.

  ***

  I took up my seat at the side of the bar, tipping my glass at the regulars passing close enough to catch my attention, and I waited for Cat’s eyes. Raven appeared first, head to toe in red latex, with Cara just a moment behind, shimmying in a tiny pink tutu. I held my breath as my guest followed them in, rational James springing up to bludgeon me with my own stupidity, but it soon passed. Lydia Marsh looked sensational, standing tall in stiletto knee-highs, stocking tops visible under a plush-velvet mini-dress. Her hair was styled in a natural wave, sweeping down around her slender shoulders, and her eyes, sweet Jesus, her eyes... Raven’s work, certainly, heavily lined with kohl and swept out to a feline arc. They looked paler than ever, dancing with the light as they searched the room for me. Giving up, she joined the girls at the bar, sucking up sex-on-the-beach through a neon-pink straw.

  I finished my scotch as Raven whispered in Lydia’s ear, pointing over in my direction. I stepped into clear view, sinking right into those jade green pools as I made my way over. I took a stool to her left, close enough to breathe her in. Amber and Rose, and something else. Some kind of body scrub, Cherry Blossom. My knee pressed into hers, the simple contact buzzing like static.

  “Good evening, Cat.”

  “Good evening, Masque.” Her hand dithered nervously between her leg and mine until I made the decision for her, snaring her delicate little fingers and pulling them to rest on my thigh. She smiled, edging her way closer. “I was worried you wouldn’t be here.”

  “It would be a rude host who’d put a name on a guest list and not arrive to greet them.”

  “You know what I mean. I’m really glad you showed.” She squeezed my thigh through my jeans, eyes finding mine in the shadows of my mask. “You look so different.”

  Cara caught our attention with a shrill little squeal. Raven was twisting at her nipples through her crop top. I watched Lydia’s breath quicken, a tense little gulp of air.

  “Are you sure you want to be here?”

  “Dead sure.” She jumped as a trio of regulars took up position behind her. Tyson leant to the bar across her shoulder, dazzling her with a smile.

  “A new face,” he said. “Hey, pretty lady.”

  “Cat,” she said, smiling.

  “Tyson. So, you’re here with Masque on this fine evening?”

  “She is,” I replied.

  “Don’t start without me,” he grinned. He ordered his drink and resumed conversation with the women at his rear. Lydia’s hand clutched at my thigh for dear life. She waited until they were out of earshot.

  “Does he want to join in?” she whispered, voice croaky.

  I revelled in her awkwardness. “He’s a watcher. He’ll be at the window, you can count on it.”

  “The window? You mean when we...”

  “When you’re bound at my mercy and I’m pounding your tight little snatch, yes, he’ll be watching.”

  I waited for her reaction, for her to wimp out and walk away, but she didn’t move a muscle.

  ***

  I let her relax, but not for long. The place had filled nicely; the main floor busy enough to thrum. Just as I was debating my next move, the spotlights struck up. Perfect timing. Lydia looked over my shoulder, straining to see who was on stage. I watched the rise and fall of her chest, her adrenaline starting to flow.

  “Shall we?” I asked, rhetorically. I helped her down from her stool, leading her over to the main floor. People made way, letting us straight through to the front; a benefit of being so well known in this place. I found us a decent vantage point, taking a seat on one of the benches and pulling her down onto my lap. We were on the edge of the spotlight, visible to anyone who cared to look. Many did, curious as to the new, beautiful lady-friend I had in tow. “Keep your eyes on the stage,” I whispered. “It should be a good one.” I ran my fingers down her bare arms, enjoying how she shivered at the contact. She reached back for me, gripping at my hips.

  “You were amazing up there last week,” she murmured. “I loved it.”

  “You’ll love this one, too,” I said. “That’s Cain, and his girlfriend Vix, they really know how to play.” They took up position, Vix submitting meekly to the cuffs above her head.

  “Is he going to cane her?”

  “Would you like him to?”

  “I think so.”

  I kissed her neck. “More likely the flogger, the cane is too harsh for a lot of tastes.”

  She squirmed as the scene started up, making herself comfortable. I held her close, my hand on her ribs to feel her breath. The flogging was a good one, nice and hard and really fucking thwacky. Vix lurched forwards in her chains, howling with every lash, while Lydia watched, transfixed, gripping hold of my thighs underneath hers. I felt her breathing turning shallow.

  “Horny isn’t it?” I whispered. “So fucking horny.” I ran my fingers down the smooth line of her throat, across her collarbone to the strap of her dress. She tensed as I slipped it from her shoulder. “Relax, Cat, don’t fight me.” I slid my fingers inside the fabric, smiling to find she was naked underneath. Her nipple was already hard, a little bullet crying for my touch. “Keep your eyes on the stage.”

  I freed her from her other strap, warm lips against her neck. She let out a squeak as I pulled the fabric down, offering the perfect white swell of her tits to anyone who cared to look. She let go of my thighs, hands flailing against the exposure. “No,” I whispered, firmly.

  I heard the softest groan from the back of her throat as I raised her tits high in my hands, rolling her nipples between my fingers while she writhed against my chest, compliant.

  “Good girl.” I raised my knees between hers, hooking her legs to spread them wide. She moaned, fighting my efforts but only for a second. I squeezed her tits with savage strength to punish her, loving the way her shoulders hunched at the pain.

  “Touch yourself.” She ignored my instruction at first, nervous enough to flash her eyes around the room. The gaze of strangers met hers, and instinct made to clamp her legs shut. I blocked her efforts, reaching down to wrench her panties to the side. “Play with your dirty wet cunt, Cat, before I put you over my knee in front of this whole fucking room. Is that what you want?” Slowly she slid her hand between her thighs, rubbing so softly she was hardly moving. I swatted her hand away in frustration, and she whimpered as I plunged two fingers inside her. “That’s what you need... show the world your pretty little snatch.”

  The action on the stage ramped up a level, Cain lowering Vix’s bonds enough to slide his cock into her mouth. He shoved his hips forward and she gagged on him, chest heaving and retching as he forced his way all the way in. I felt Lydia clench around my fingers, a soft little mewl hissing from her lips.

  “You like that?” I teased. “Like the way he fucks her mouth?” She nodded, so slightly it was almost unperceivable. “Ever had someone use you like that, Cat? Choke you up real fucking good?” She shook her head. “That’s going to change real soon, my sweet little Cat’s eyes, you’re going to retch on my cock until you’re fucking sick.”

  My good little Lydia lost the plot in my lap, whimpering and bucking and riding herself stupid on my thick fucking fingers. Sweet Christ, she was a dirty bitch after all. I pulled out to strum her clit, playing her fast, straight over the edge of orgasm. She arched herself against me, wrapping her arms back around my neck for leverage as she came in my hands. I smiled into her neck as she floated back down, trembling in the aftershock. She came to her senses, covering her tits back up and closing her legs tight, all too aware of the eyes staring at her.

  “That was insane,” she whispered.

  “It was hot,” I breathed, grinding my crotch into her ass.

  I pointed her attention back to the stage where Vix was still getting her face fucked, rivulets of tears and spit dribbling down her chin. Beautiful.

  Lydia turned to face me, eyes wide and so fucking gorgeous. “Were you serious?” she said. “Are you really going to fuck
my throat like that?”

  “No,” I said. “I’m not going to fuck your throat like that.” I smiled at her confusion. “It’s going to be a whole lot fucking worse.”

  I wasn’t joking.

  ***

  Lydia

  I needed the next wine, and the one after that. I was burning with embarrassment; crazy shocked that I’d let Masque finger me in front of a room full of strangers, but hell he’d got me off. He’d got me off so good my insides were still reeling, and I’d liked it. I’d loved it. He sipped at his scotch on the rocks in silence, brooding and dangerous. His eyes were in the shadows, hidden in the hollows of the mask, yet I knew he was staring at me. He hadn’t stopped.

  He ordered another whisky, but didn’t give me the option of more wine. Instead of alcohol, which I could have desperately done with, he ordered me a pint of water, and placed it firmly in front of me.

  “I’m ok,” I said. “I’m not drunk.”

  “It’s not because you’re drunk. I want you to drink that pint for me, as fast as you can.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

  “Do as you’re told. You’ll see why.”

  I took a long swig, glugging back as much as I could in a single effort.

  A woman in white PVC made her way over, leaning down into his ear. I strained to make out what she was saying over the beat of the music. He smiled his thanks and waved her away. “That’s our call, you’d better drink up.”

  “Our call?”

  “Playroom three is empty.”

  “Oh.” Nerves flared, dancing around my spine, but my clit was on fire, pulsing between my legs.

  He got up in my face, his breath hot on my lips. “If you want to back out, now would be a good time.”

  I swigged back the rest of my water, gulping it down as fast as I could swallow, then slammed the empty glass on the bar. “I’m not wimping out, Masque, I want you to fuck my mouth.”

 

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