Dirty Business

by Huck Pilgrim

  PILGRIM PRESS

  Dirty Business © March 2012 by Huck Pilgrim

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  This book is for sale to adult audiences only. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

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  Dirty Business

  Huck Pilgrim

  Copyright 2012 by Huck Pilgrim

  Smashwords Edition

  First Edition

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  Contents

  Dirty Business

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  More from Pilgrim Press

  Contact

  Introduction

  A man struggles with his principles as he watches the daughter of his business partner explore a dangerous fantasy. An adult work, Dirty Business is the first novella from the Carnal series.

  In “Dirty Business,” Joe Murphy, a down-on-his-luck real estate broker, lands a big deal with young Donnell Blackman and his out-of-town gang of street toughs. Veronica Smith, the beautiful teenage daughter of one of Joe’s business associates, shows up and agrees to do anything Donnell asks for some more of his drugs. Joe knows Veronica has just signed herself up for a night of sexual payback she won’t soon forget. Watching her make good on her word, he tries to remain professional, keep his own business with Donnell on track. But when one of the boys goes too far with Veronica, Joe stands up for her, and suddenly finds himself at odds with a most dangerous crew. To save his business, Veronica’s welfare, and maybe even his own life, Joe finds he may have to do a little “dirty business” of his own—with his partner’s lovely daughter!—as the out-of-town boys watch. In the small town of Carnal, everyone is driven by desire, and no one leaves town a virgin.

  No matter the length, Carnal stories are always dark and dirty. Each story takes place in the small town of Carnal, where it’s always burning, no matter what the season.

  Dirty Business

  Joe Murphy leaned back from the dining room table. A big man, he tried his best not to look too imposing. He didn’t want anyone feeling threatened tonight. Donnell Blackman sat across from him, staring at the thick sheaf of paperwork spread out before him.

  Joe glanced at the phone in his hand. A quarter past two in the morning. He’d need another two hours to close the deal. Molly would be mad.

  Donnell rubbed the stubble on his chin, thoughtfully working his way through the paperwork. He was young—twenty-three—but clever. Careful. This was probably his first real estate purchase ever. Certainly his first Carnal address.

  At least two more hours.

  At the other end of the table sat Cutter, one of Donnell’s out-of-town associates. He wore a white surgical mask and a tank top. Had prison tattoos etched across his thick arms. On the table before him sat a big plastic bin holding a large amount of some sort of white powder. His bald head glistened with sweat as he sifted through the powder with a playing card. Every so often he scooped some of the powder onto the card and then filled a small glassine bag. These loaded bags were then piled onto neat little stacks at the far end of the table. From the height of the stacks and the sweat on his brow, you could tell Cutter had been at it for a few hours. Joe heard the faint, tinny sound of rap music coming from headphones stuffed into Cutter’s ears. He popped his head as he worked, his arms making deft, practiced movements.

  Joe slipped his phone into his pocket. Took a deep, calming breath. These two were animals, able to smell fear. This was not the time to get antsy.

  A former motorcycle gang member, Joe had worked alongside drugs in the past. He didn’t mind cash deals or unsavory people. He had no problem doing business at Donnell’s temporary “office,” which was really just an address in Hoover Homes, one of Carnal’s low income housing developments. If anything, Joe felt thankful to have the deal, worth over two thousand in commissions. Molly would be pleased. Grateful for the income.

  The clamor of noisy footsteps and laughter broke the quiet.

  A beautiful girl and two young black men—baggy pants, gleaming Nikes—burst out of the stairwell. Donnell looked up from his task. He kept his face even, but when the boys saw him look, they both stopped horsing around.

  The girl continued to laugh.

  She was a knock out. Long dark hair, square chin. With her high cheek bones and chiseled facial features, she looked like a Cherokee princess. Joe recognized her as Veronica Smith, a local teen. Letting her laughter trail off, she reached both arms behind her head and gathered her hair into a pony tail.

  The last time Joe had seen Veronica was five years ago at her father’s lakeside house. She had certainly grown up since then. Dark running tights hugged her slim hips and shapely thighs. A bright halter top accentuated her small breasts and left her midriff exposed. Dressed for the gym, her glassy eyes and flush cheeks told a different story. She had clearly been partying.

  Her father was one of Carnal’s wealthiest businessmen. He was proud of his little girl. Had been crowing at a local bar about her recent acceptance to an Ivy League school. Smith felt certain his daughter would be one of the girls that made it out of Carnal.

  One of the boys with Veronica wore a checkered tan fedora. A handsome boy, he was clean shaven, muscular, with a strong jaw and a broad, open face. Grabbing the hat by the crown, he pushed it back on his head and grinned, offering a brilliant smile with a single, gleaming, gold cap up front.

  “We just leaving, Donnell,” the boy said.

  Donnell lowered his head without acknowledgment.

  “Donnell?” Veronica said. She grinned. “Donnell Blackman? Cherry High’s former track star?” She had already undone her long dark hair and now she let it fall over shoulder, stroking it as she approached the table.

  “I don’t have to leave,” she said. “I can do whatever I want.”

  Donnell did not look up. If his lack of interest shook Veronica’s confidence, she didn’t let it show. Gliding across the room, her self-assurance impressed Joe. She leaned toward Donnell’s ear. Still toying with her hair, she whispered something so low Joe couldn’t make it out. Her eyes glittered as she spoke.

  Donnell tilted his head towards her. Listened quietly.

  The boy wearing the fedora put his hands on his hips, a look of mild contempt his face. Joe fought to suppress a grin. He wondered how much dope the boy had packed into Veronica’s pretty little nostrils tonight.

  Veronica finished whispering to Donnell and then stood up. Donnell continued to look at the paperwork in front of him. Rubbing her hands on her thighs, she seemed to enjoy the sensation of her
own touch on the slippery material of her tights. She bit her lip and kept her eyes on Donnell’s strong hands.

  “Anything?” Donnell asked. His voice was flat. He had still not looked up.

  Veronica’s face broke into a wide grin. Looking up, she noticed Joe at the table. A glint of recognition passed over her eyes and her face flushed with shame. Biting her lip, she pressed her hands into her groin. Took a deep breath.

  “Sure,” she said to Donnell. “Sure.” Her voice sounded squeaky, high pitched.

  Donnell snorted, shook his head. Looking up into her face, he chuckled. “You’re going to have to do a little better than that.”

  Veronica laughed, a nervous titter. Donnell’s large brown eyes seemed to bore into her, as if he were looking inside her, searching her very soul. He kept his eyes on her face, a little half smile playing on his lips.

  Joe watched Veronica’s nipples harden, her face flush a deeper shade of red.

  She was going to fuck Donnell. As soon as Joe thought it, he knew it was true. He smelled something burning, a faint, faraway smell. His cock stirred to life in his pants, even as the rest of his body went on high alert. The smell was a familiar odor: in some ways comforting to Joe, in others ways terrifying. He leaned into the table, hiding his arousal. That would only complicate things. Put his commission at risk.

  Veronica took a deep breath, letting her chest swell.

  “Anything,” she said. Now her voice rang with confidence. She made a funny face at Joe and stuck out her tongue. She drew her shoulders together and laughed. This time, the titter was gone.

  Donnell rapped twice on the table.

  Cutter scooped a generous amount of powder onto his playing card, then laid it out for her at an empty place on the table. Tapping the card on the table, he cleared it. The room grew silent. Veronica pulled the heavy chair back, its feet scraping the tile.

  A clock ticked loudly on the wall.

  She took her seat at the table. Bowing her head, she helped herself to a generous amount of the powder that lay before her.

  Cutter’s eyes glittered. He glanced at Donnell, then went back to work. Donnell asked Joe a question about the property. After Joe answered, Donnell asked something else. The boys Veronica had come in with began to talk amongst themselves in low tones. Veronica sat in silence. Several times she tried to make eye contact with Joe, but he wouldn’t allow it.

  Joe wondered if she even understood what she had just signed herself up for.

  If she felt any regret about her arrangement with Donnell, she didn’t show it. She just sat quietly. Waited. She steadfastly refused to look at either of the boys she had come in with. Joe wondered if she even knew their names. Clearly she did not understand, as Joe did, that they were Donnell’s lieutenants.

  Some unspoken communication passed between Donnell and his boys.

  Joe pretended not to notice.

  “You ready?” Donnell asked Veronica. He put his fingertips on the table and leaned forward as if he were about to rise.

  Veronica was ready. More than ready. Ignored, head spinning from the drugs, her body revving with sexual tension, she practically leapt from her chair and then stood by the table grinning. But Donnell had not risen. Instead he let his weight fall back into his seat, and continued to smile at Veronica, his warm eyes glittering.

  The boy wearing the hat silently crossed the room. Standing behind Veronica, he slipped his arms around her waist and let his hand come to rest in the V between her legs. Veronica reacted quickly, stomping her heel into his foot and then spinning out of his grasp.

  “Motherfucker,” she hissed. Veronica sailed her fist around, leaping forward to put her full body weight into the punch. The boy’s head snapped back.

  Joe was impressed. She stood there—all one hundred and ten pounds of her—with her fists up. But the other boy had already slipped in behind her and put his arms around her waist. He drew her towards himself, even as she began to writhe.

  “Donnell!” Veronica raised her voice.

  Her face flush with fury, she whipped her head toward the end of the table where Donnell sat. For a beat, no one said anything. The boy held Veronica aloft, her feet an inch or two from the floor, her hair splayed in her eyes.

  And then Donnell tilted his head to the side. “Anything,” he said.

  “Oh, come on,” Veronica said.

  Joe heard a tinge of panic in her voice. Setting his jaw, he silently willed her to surrender. To accept her circumstances. If she continued to fight, there would be trouble. Someone could get hurt. Someone would get hurt.

  The boy lowered Veronica to the floor and began to massage her breasts, his nose buried in her shiny dark hair. Veronica stood silently, her back stiff.

  “Help out my friends,” Donnell said. His tone was friendly, but clearly he was offering a command.

  Veronica remained mute, letting the boy enjoy her body.

  “I like to watch.” Donnell chuckled. He said this with almost an apologetic tone. He shrugged, smiled. Cutter snorted. Shook his head. He had continued to work on the powder through all the excitement, but Joe felt certain that Cutter and Donnell were the ones to watch if things escalated.

  Veronica looked at the pile of powder on the table, now diminished in size. She looked at Donnell, who sat back from the table, his hands in his lap, his eyes still warm. That same half smile still playing upon his lips. She swallowed hard. The boy’s hands eagerly roamed her body. Searching the room, her eyes fell on Joe, who now readily met her gaze. Joe didn’t smile, but he tried not to look too grave either. He could see the terror in her eyes as she assessed her situation. Both lieutenants would fuck her. That much was a given.

  Joe locked eyes with Veronica.

  He knew he needed to be discreet. Raising one of his brows, he titled his head toward the boy she had struck. Opening his eyes wide, Joe tried to nudge Veronica into action. Get her moving in a productive direction. She was an attractive girl and that would work to her disadvantage tonight. The big guy cutting the dope would certainly want a turn with her. Joe knew that Donnell had a girlfriend, but that didn’t matter with something like this: He’d probably go last, do something humiliating. Maybe fuck her in the ass. Maybe piss on her.

  Joe pursed his lips. He glanced at the boy rubbing his chin, then returned his gaze to Veronica. The important thing was to get the sex started. That was the best way to avoid any real violence. She’d wake up tomorrow a little sore, filled with semen from a few different boys, but she’d be home. Unhurt.

  Veronica looked at the boy she’d struck: he was working his jaw and looking openly hostile, clearly the biggest threat in the room. When she looked back toward Joe, he nodded his head once. Really it was just a slight dip of his chin.

  Veronica seemed to understand. Her eyes no longer bulged with fear, but now settled into a sort of wide eyed acceptance. She closed her mouth. Licked her lips.

  “Anything,” the olive skinned boy whispered, nuzzling his face towards Veronica’s ear.

  He pressed his hips against her bottom and slipped his hand between her legs. Veronica allowed it. She had to. Striking the other boy had been pure instinct: Good girls didn’t allow themselves to be fondled by random boys. But now her circumstances had changed, and she had to accept this boy touching her as the rest of the room watched. Her nipples betrayed her first, hardening under his insistent touch. Then the color rose up in her face and her breathing grew heavier. Her lids soon hooded over her eyes, and she found herself gently moving her hips, riding the hand that was between her legs. No longer could Veronica count herself in the ranks of the good girls. Tonight Veronica was a whore.

  The boy she’d struck stopped rubbing his chin. Scowling at Veronica, he straightened his hat, then blew air heavily from his mouth.

  Without looking back at Joe, Veronica reached for the hand of the boy massaging her sex, letting her own hand rest atop his. She tilted her head to look at him over her shoulder and smiled, pressing her bottom into
his groin.

  She turned to face him. His mouth was open. He smiled.

  Reaching between his legs, Veronica let her fingers tickle over the hard bulge in his pants. With her hand on his cock, she looked up at him and grinned. Whether pleased by the sudden power that comes from playing the whore, or by the warm bulge she now cupped in her hand, Joe couldn’t say for sure.

  “She ready,” The lieutenant with the olive skin said. His voice was low, conversational. He kept his eyes on Veronica, but he was plainly speaking to the entire room.

  Veronica moved toward the other lieutenant. Stretching her arm, she allowed her fingertips to continue touching the cock in her hand for as long as she could. At the last moment, she broke contact and turned her full attention to the next boy.