Hu Money: A Forbidden Bully Romance (The Dirty Money Duet Book 1)

by BL Mute

  “Okay,” I mumble, trying to hide the confusion and hurt in my voice.

  He gives me a curt nod, then starts back down the stairs. He leads me outside until we are by the tennis courts. “Out here, there isn’t much to do. Just ask any guests if they need help or whatever if they seem lost. The landscaping crew handles everything else.”

  I study our surroundings as he speaks. The tennis courts are to the far left as the golf course takes up the rest of the outside area. There is a small gazebo to the right with a decent-sized slab of wood that functions as a dance floor for outside parties, but other than that, everything is pretty bare.

  I scan the opulent grass, perfectly trimmed and green, then spot one of the boys from the landscaping crew. I can see his shirt is plastered tightly to his skin from the sweat on his body, and his hair is damp. I watch him from the safety of my spot about fifty yards away as he lifts his shirt over his head, then uses it to wipe his face.

  His muscles are taut under his tanned skin, flexing with his every movement, and I can’t help but let my mouth fall open the slightest bit. He’s maybe a few years older than me, judging by the light stubble coating his face, but that doesn’t bother me because he’s hot.

  I almost work up the nerve to go talk to him, but Carter catches my stare and stops talking. “Seriously?”

  I snap my eyes to his and shrug with a smirk, and he just shakes his head with a glare. “Put your fucking shirt back on, Eric!” he yells in the boy’s direction. I can hear the hint of jealousy in his voice.

  I turn on my heel and start back inside. “It’s almost eleven. I guess I’m heading to Mac’s office,” I say over my shoulder.

  “You need your uniform first and codes,” Carter replies, sprinting to catch up, then taking the lead back.

  We navigate back inside, through the kitchen, then into the laundry room. The humidity immediately slaps me in the face as soon as we are inside. I fan myself with my hand as Carter walks to a shelf and pulls some clothing from it.

  “Here.” He shoves it into my chest.

  I roll my eyes. I guess the asshole is back, I think to myself as I unravel the clothes. I hold up the short khaki shorts and white polo. “Seriously?”

  Carter nods. “You don’t have one set job like everyone else. Kitchen staff wears white button-ups, black slacks, and a bow tie. Front desk is business casual, bev cart girls wear tennis skirts and tanks. But you’ll float around the entire club, so shorts and a polo it is.”

  I set the polo down, then hold the shorts up, closer to his eye level. “My ass won’t fit in these.” I don’t bother hiding the irritation in my voice.

  “That’s the point.” He winks. “But don’t worry, you’ll get slacks and a button-up for parties, but none are scheduled for a few days.” He picks the polo back up and tosses it at me. “Enjoy training with Mac.” He’s gone before I can protest any more.

  I stand there for a moment, completely stunned, before I tell my feet to work and carry me to the bathroom. I pad across the floor slowly, taking my time and not wanting to do much of anything anymore, but Malcolm said I have to decide today.

  I slip into the bathroom and go to the same stall I hid in the first time Malcolm and I were together. The entire day plays in my mind as I strip out of my clothes and put on my uniform. Maybe I can take him up on his offer. What would it hurt? I get money and good dick. It’s a win-win, right? Only if I do, I have to live with the disgust I already feel and then some.

  After I button the shorts, I step back into my shoes and exit the bathroom. Fuck it. I’m doing it. I stop by the front desk again before I head back upstairs and to Mac’s office.

  “Hey, Candace. Can you hold on to these for me?” I whisper, leaning over the counter with my clothes in hand.

  She ends the call she was on, then looks back to me. “Did Carter not show you your locker?” She glances to my shirt. “Or give you a name tag?”

  I shake my head. “He said he was going to give me codes too, but I guess he forgot, and I forgot to ask.”

  She lets out an exasperated breath. “I’ll get your key and tag when I get a chance. If you don’t see me before my shift is up, your clothes will be here.” She opens a drawer and places them inside. “And I’ll show you where the lockers are in the morning.” She smiles.

  “Thank you.” I smile back, backing away from the counter, and start back up the stairs.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  LYDIA

  I stop in front of his office door and examine it the same way I did that day. All the feelings and nerves that I felt then are back and more present than ever. I want to say no, deny what he’s offering, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

  He brings my body to heights I’ve never felt, and why is that so bad? I shouldn’t feel bad for chasing the best high there is. The best high I’ve ever felt. But I do. The guilt licks at my stomach every second I think about Mac. Guilt from that first time, and now guilt that I’m agreeing to this, knowing who he’s married to.

  I raise my hand in a fist and knock on the door’s surface, then wait. When it starts to glide open, my knees start to shake, and my chest tightens. Malcolm stands on the other side, his tall stature looking down on me. His button-up is clean and crisp, but the suit jacket he normally wears is nowhere to be seen. His sleeves are cuffed and rolled to his elbows, showing off the thin gold bracelet around one wrist and his watch on the other.

  He steps to the side silently and opens the door more. He sweeps his hand in front of his body, gesturing me to enter. I move my attention from him to the floor as I tread inside. The door snaps closed, and the lock is clicked into place.

  “So, what’s your answer, Lydia?” he breathes behind me.

  I keep my eyes to the floor. “I agree. I’ll do it.”

  I can almost hear the smile spread on his face as his fingers trace the crease of my ass at the bottom of my shorts lightly. I jump from the feeling but rapidly try and relax my body.

  “You understand this is between us and only us, correct?”

  I nod.

  He pinches the sensitive skin on the back of my thigh. “Speak up.”

  I close my eyes and draw in a shaky breath. “Yes.”

  “Good. And there will be no implications, so give me your phone.”

  “I don’t have one. You broke it, remember?”

  He smiles coldly and starts to feel on the pockets of my shorts. “Your mother got a notification your old one was activated late last night.” When he finds the device, he slips it out of my pocket and holds it in his hand.

  I curse our cell provider in my head, hoping I could have kept me having a phone a secret for this exact reason.

  He steps around me as I open my mouth to speak. He holds up his finger as he rounds his desk. “Ah! You’ll only speak when I present a question or tell you to, understood?” He places my phone into one of the drawers, then looks to me for an answer.

  I bite my lip and wonder if I made the right decision. “Okay,” I finally reply.

  He moves back to the front of his desk and leans against it. “Come here.” He crooks his finger at me.

  I do as he says, removing my locket as I walk and slipping it into my pocket.

  When I halt my steps in front of him, he slouches down a bit until our stares are even. He brushes my hair behind my ear and lets his hand linger on my cheek. “I will never do anything you don’t want. You may hate me and think I’m the worst kind of person there is, but consent is very important to me.” His other hand begins to trail along my collarbone.

  “Red means stop. Only say this when you’re uncomfortable or in pain. Yellow is the word to say if you’re not sure you like something but you’re okay with continuing until it hits red. And green is no issues. I’ll ask you for these anytime we start something. And if your mouth is unavailable, you’ll tap me. Not for green, only red and yellow. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I breathe again.

  He nods, then moves his hand
to my chest and cups my breast. “Color?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and try and tell myself I won’t regret this when I know that’s probably not true. “Green,” I whisper.

  When I open my eyes again, he’s looking at me with an intense stare. I feel like a deer that just walked into the lion’s den for dinner. I can see the hunger in his eyes, the desire. The want. And I wonder if mine reflect the same or if it’s only fear.

  “I’ll treat your body like a temple, Lydia. I’ll show you things you would have never dreamed of, and you’ll like it.”

  “How do you know I’ll like it?” I ask.

  He shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “You’ve already forgotten the first rule, but that’s okay. I know there is a brat in you fighting to get out. Girls like you are all the same. You crave dominance, and I’ll give that to you.”

  Without warning, my heart speeds up, and I can feel my panties moisten. I know what I like when it comes to sex, and I like Mac. He isn’t much else to me, really, but I know the things he does to my body drive me wild. If he says I want dominance, I’ll take it because no one else has been able to satisfy me the way he has.

  He pushes me backward and stands back to his full height. “Today is merely an introduction as to what I offer. Are you okay with that?”

  “Y—yes.” All of a sudden, I realize how real all of this is, and every ounce of defiance I felt is gone, and only fear is in its place. Fear and excitement.

  “Good.” He slides back behind his desk and sits in his chair. He opens the same drawer he placed my phone in, then pulls out a silk ribbon. “Come,” he demands.

  I tread carefully to the other side of the desk and stop in front of him.

  “Put one wrist on top of the other.” I do what he says and try not to flinch as he wraps the ribbon around and around, then ties it in a knot. “Now kneel.”

  I hesitate for a moment but ultimately comply and fall to my knees.

  “The first thing I want you to learn is I can give you pleasure, but I can also take it away. Are you okay with that?”

  “I, um—I don’t really know what that means.”

  He smiles and brushes his thumb over my bottom lip. “I sometimes forget how young you are, how you’ve probably never been in a dynamic like this.” He drops his hand along with his gaze. “You’ll learn soon. Just do what I say, and I’ll reward you, but if you defy me, I’ll punish you.”

  I nod and swallow hard. I’m not sure why those words send a jolt to my core, but they do, and I like it.

  He taps my lips lightly. “Words, Lydia.”

  “Sorry,” I say, letting a touch of annoyance shine through my voice. It isn’t that I mind talking, because that is the best way to communicate; I would just rather focus on the actual feelings. The physical ones. The euphoria I know he is going to give me. I don’t want to spoil it with words. And I don’t need to be reminded of who I’m doing this with if I don’t have to.

  He shakes his head with a grin and tugs the ribbon around my hands. “Color?”

  “Green,” I state almost proudly, glad the talking is almost over, and everything is finally moving.

  He stands and loops his fingers around the ribbon and pulls me up with him. He lifts my hands when I’m upright and positions them above my head. I keep them there as he drags his fingers down my arms, all the way to my sides, then hooks into the waist of my shorts. He skirts his fingers on the inside of the band until they’re under the button. Removing one hand, he uses it to flick open the button and pulls my zipper down.

  My thin pink panties shine over my pale skin, and by the looks of the bulge growing in his pants, he likes them. He pushes my shorts down, letting them fall and pool around my feet, before doing the same with my panties. When my most sensitive spot is exposed to the cool air, goose bumps break out all over my skin.

  He traces each one of his hands up my legs until he makes it back to my waist. Grabbing the hem of my polo, he rakes it up until it’s trapped right under my tied wrists. He guides my hands back down and lets them hang in front of my body with my shirt dangling with them, then slowly turns me to face the door.

  “Stay quiet,” he states, so I don’t answer.

  Bending my top half over his desk, he runs one index finger up and down my slit from behind. My body shudders, and my breath hitches, but I keep the small moans wanting to escape swallowed down. I can hear him moving, but his finger never slows. Suddenly, hot air hits my pussy. I try to close the inch between my knees, but his other hand stops me.

  He stays just as silent as me as he spreads my legs even further, and his finger leaves my slit. His knuckles begin stroking feathery touches on the inside of my thighs before his face lowers and his mouth locks around the lips of my pussy.

  Malcolm’s tongue slips out and slides into me. He nudges the sides of my entrance in a perfect rhythm. My knees wobble, so I lean further forward and bear as much of my weight as I can onto my chest. I reach out and grab the edge of the desk with my bound hands and squeeze the hard wood as firmly as I can, hoping like hell I can stay quiet.

  He licks, nips, and sucks hard. I grind my teeth and close my eyes as he slides all the way from my clit to my opening and then to my ass. When his warm tongue finally leaves my skin, I relax a moment, only to be jolted when his teeth sink into the soft flesh of my ass cheek.

  “Yellow!” I squeal. I can’t tell if I actually liked it or hated it. The sudden pain after pleasure was a shocking change, but it made me appreciate his skilled mouth more than before.

  He lets out a chuckle, then places his palm over the same spot he bit. He kneads my already oversensitive skin. “Yellow?” he questions, continuing his massage.

  “I think so,” I let out with an unstable breath.

  He doesn’t reply. Instead, his touch leaves my body. I crane my gaze over my shoulder and watch as he unfastens his belt, then undoes his pants. His thick cock springs free as he pulls the waistband of his boxers down and grips his hard length and strokes himself.

  My eyes are drawn to the movement. When he steps forward, my eyes snap to his. They’re darker than before. Dangerous. I tremble internally and swallow hard. When his thighs meet the back of my legs, I turn back around and lay my head between my stretched-out arms.

  “Color?” His voice cuts through the pounding of my own heartbeat in my ears.

  “Green.” I let my eyes flutter closed because I know exactly what’s coming.

  He slides his erection over my pussy lips twice, coating the head of his cock in my juices, then pushes into me slowly. He gives me a moment to adjust to the fullness before he pulls back out, then shoves back in.

  As his rhythm builds and the tempo of his thrusts quicken, I force my ass back, grinding myself into his movements. “Fuck,” I hiss, sending myself over the edge, and I shatter around him.

  My orgasm comes quicker than I expected, but I was so built up with sexual tension, I’m not complaining. I wanted him, and my body knew that before my mind had a chance to agree.

  “Your pussy is squeezing my cock. It’s begging me to come, trying to milk every last drop from me.”

  His words are suppressed from my pants and erratic heartbeat. “Do it,” I gasp. “Come.”

  He jerks out of me with a groan, and warm liquid splashes onto my lower back. My legs quiver with the loss of him and go limp. My knees give out, but he catches me around the waist, supporting my weight. He opens the same drawer as before and pulls out a handkerchief. He cleans his cum from my back before maneuvering to the side of me and sliding his chair under me.

  When his arm releases me, I fall onto the chair. I pull my knees together and bring my arms down to cover my chest. I’m not sure why, but now that the moment is over, I feel dirty.

  He pulls his pants up and fastens his button and zipper, then steps to me. He unties the knot from the ribbon, then unlaces it from around my wrists. “One more rule, Lydia,” he says, his voice taking on a new edge that wasn’t there before. The c
almness he had while explaining things about our agreement is gone.

  I move my eyes from my sore wrists to his face. “What?”

  “Stay the fuck away from Carter.”

  I can tell from his tone I shouldn’t ask why, but I do anyway. “Why?” I look away and gather my shorts and panties, then slip them on and slide my shirt back over my chest.

  “Because while this little arrangement is in effect, you’re mine and only mine. Carter has a way of squeezing his way into places he doesn’t belong. Your pussy will not be one.”

  I roll my eyes and extend my hand, completely ignoring his comment. If only he knew how much I dislike Carter. “Can I have my phone back now?”

  He reaches around me and into his desk. After he grabs it, he slaps it into my hand. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Lydia.”

  I don’t say anything else as I exit his office, but I keep my eyes on his until I’m on the other side of the door. I finally move my focus in front of me when I close the door, but it’s too late.

  I bump into someone hard enough it knocks me back a few steps. “I’m so—” I cut myself off when I see it’s Carter.

  “Watch where the fuck you’re going,” he remarks, rushing by me.

  I lean against the wall and shake my head. Trying to control my contempt toward Mac and avoid Carter completely so I won’t have to hear him bitch is going to be harder than I thought.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  LYDIA

  The rest of my first day of work was uneventful. Luckily, I didn’t run into Carter or Mac again. I just went about my own business and kept my head low. The weight of what I agreed to finally hit me after I finished up, so I’m grateful to be home so I can wash Mac off me.

  I walk through the front door quietly and am immediately met with relief when no one is in sight. I start up the stairs but don’t make it very far before I hear my mom calling my name.