A Million Dirty Secrets

by C. L. Parker

Mason cleared his throat and started walking backward to the door. “I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

  I saw the look of apprehension on his face, and that clued me in that I wasn’t going to like whatever it was she wanted to talk about. Like I said before, Mason is Polly’s opposite. He knew when to leave shit alone, whereas Polly pushed until she got what she wanted.

  I picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite while I waited for her to begin.

  “So I was balancing your checkbook this weekend, paying the utility bills and whatnot, when I ran across an entry for a rather large sum of money that had been transferred from your personal account to an account in Hillsboro, Illinois,” she started in a questioning tone.

  “And?” I took a bite of the eggs. They needed salt.

  “And … two million dollars? Noah, I know it’s not my place to ask, but what the hell?”

  “You’re right, it’s not your place to ask,” I said, suddenly losing my appetite. I’d known she’d see the transaction, but she’d never questioned me about my outlandish splurging before. Then again, the last time I’d dropped a load even remotely similar to that, it had been for my Hennessey Venom GT Spyder.

  Polly narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Are you doing something illegal?”

  “Polly, I’m warning you. Back off,” I said in my most menacing tone. “The last time I checked, I was the employer and you were the employee. So don’t come in here like you’re going to interrogate me over something that is none of your business.”

  “You don’t scare me, Noah Patrick Crawford,” she said as she stood and waved a finger at me. “Something’s up, and I don’t know what it is, but you know I’ll just keep digging until I figure it out. And don’t think I didn’t notice that the transaction just so happened to take place at the same time Lanie showed up.”

  She was pissing me off. I could feel the vein in my forehead bulge.

  “Delaine,” I corrected her.

  “No, she asked me to call her Lanie. I guess she prefers that to her given name, but you should know that since you two are so in love,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s the deal between you and her? ’Cause I’m not buying the whole ‘we met outside a drag queen show in LA and fell in love’ bullshit. You’re a lot of things, but into dudes you are not.”

  My eyebrows shot up into my hairline and I nearly choked on my own saliva. “She told you we met at a drag queen show?”

  It sounded like something Delaine would say. I wasn’t really all that surprised. In fact, it was kind of funny. That was when I got an idea that would help me fuck with both of them—Polly for snooping when she should have been minding her own damn business, and Delaine for making the drag queen comment in the first place.

  “Did she tell you she has a penis?”

  “Shutthefuckup!” Polly’s mouth dropped open in shock, and then she quickly snapped it shut as she got a thoughtful look on her face. “Wait a minute.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and put a hand on her hip. “I’ve seen her naked. She definitely does not have a penis.”

  “Not anymore,” I added. “What do you think the money in the account was for?”

  I could practically see the hamster running on the wheel inside her head as she processed what I was saying. “Oh. My. God! Lanie’s had a sex change?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Her name was Paul. She looks pretty convincing now, though, doesn’t she?”

  “But you’re not into dudes.”

  “She’s not a dude … now.” I laced my fingers together and cupped the back of my head as I reclined in my chair. “Any more questions?”

  Polly stared off into the distance, dumbfounded, until finally she shook her head. She started for the door, but I stopped her before she could leave.

  “Oh, and Polly?” She turned to look at me. “This has to be our little secret. You can’t say anything to anyone, especially not to Delaine. She’s pretty sensitive about the subject and just wants to be accepted as the woman she’s always felt she was on the inside.”

  “Oh yeah, right, no problem.” She nodded vehemently while giving me a look that said “pfft, as if,” then grabbed the doorknob to leave.

  I was pretty damn proud of myself for being able to think so quickly on my feet. When Delaine found out what I’d done, she was going to be mega-pissed. For me, that translated into another epic sexcapade. Ding, ding, ding, ding. Triple whammy.

  I stopped her again. “One more thing. I’m fucking kidding.”

  “About what?”

  “The whole thing, Polly. I made it all up. Delaine has never been a man named Paul, and she most certainly does not now, nor has she ever, had a penis.” I laughed. “But God, you should’ve seen the look on your face.”

  “Ugh! Noah Patrick Crawford!” She seethed between clenched teeth as she marched toward me. “I should knock the piss out of you!”

  She swung her purse and smacked me in the back of the head.

  “Ow!” I laughed, and ducked to avoid further blows.

  “I’m going to tell her about this!” she said, taking another shot at me.

  I was hoping for that.

  She backed away and the coast appeared to be clear. “Look, it doesn’t surprise me that she said she met me at a drag queen show. She has a very odd sense of humor, Polly. You never know if what she’s saying is true or if she’s bullshitting you,” I explained. “It’s one of the many things I love about her. But the truth is, we met at a conference.”

  The real truth was that most of what I said actually was true.

  “Apparently she’s not the only one who bullshits around here,” she said with her hands on her hips. Then she sighed and said, “Okay, confession time. When I saw that big transfer, I started thinking, and nothing was adding up right. So I did some research, and lo and behold, I couldn’t find any trips that you’ve booked to LA over this supposed time you’ve been seeing her. And even though I had no last name to go by, I also didn’t find anyone named Delaine or Lanie on any of the flights from LA the day she showed up.” She took a breath. “What I did find was a receipt from a very posh club that just so happens to be owned by one Scott Christopher. A further background search on him revealed charges for trafficking. Human trafficking. Women, to be specific. So,” she concluded with a sigh, “you wanna tell me who Lanie really is?”

  Fuck my life! The motherfucking jig was definitely motherfucking up.

  “It’s complicated, Polly,” I said, defeated. Damn it, I needed a cigarette and a shot of Patrón.

  “Noah.” Her voice was much lower, and she gave me this pitying look as she took a seat in front of me again. “You bought her, didn’t you?”

  I gnawed on the inside of my cheek and just looked at her. She obviously took that as an affirmative.

  “I’m not going to ask you why, because I’m pretty sure I know the answer to that one already. But Lanie … she’s a good girl. Why would she do something like that?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “We agreed not to discuss it.”

  “Well, don’t you think you should find out?” she asked incredulously, flailing her hands in the air. “Just because you can’t discuss it with her doesn’t mean you can’t do some digging on your own. Jesus Christ, Noah. Use the head on top of your shoulders instead of the one between your legs. Who knows what sort of trouble she might be in?”

  She was walking a very thin line with the way she was talking to me, but if anyone could get away with that shit, it was Polly. She was just too cheery and cute to go all ballistic on. It would be like attacking a fourth-grader.

  Plus she was right. And if I hadn’t been so distracted lately, I would’ve done exactly what she’d suggested. Delaine had this way of making me forget who I was. It wasn’t like I didn’t have the connections to find out more about her, possibly even the reason she’d agreed to that contract in the first place. Maybe part of me only wanted to live in the fantasy world I’d created
with her.

  I mean, it didn’t change anything. I’d bought her fair and square. But if she was in trouble, maybe I could help her out. After all, a large part of what I did at Scarlet Lotus was managing our charitable donations. My mother would’ve helped her. She wouldn’t have purchased her or taken her virginity, and she probably would’ve killed me if she’d known I had, but nonetheless …

  “So?” Polly asked, obviously waiting on a response from me.

  I sighed. “I’ll do some digging,” I relented. “Now will you please go away and stop bothering me, you little pissant?”

  “Sure thing,” she said, back to her normal cheerful tone as she practically skipped toward the door. “I was about to go over and visit with Lanie anyway. I’m sure she can use the girl time.”

  “Don’t bring this up with her, Polly. I mean it.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said with her hands raised in surrender.

  “And you’re fucking fired, by the way.”

  She rolled her eyes, knowing it was a lie, and said, “Mmm, okay. I dropped your laundry off at the dry cleaner’s. So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

  As soon as she was gone, I picked up the container of my uneaten lunch and chucked it in the trash. I slammed my fist down on the desk in frustration, mostly aimed at myself. I should’ve been smarter about this. I should’ve been a little less selfish, a little less perverted—a little less hard up.

  I opened the contacts list on my computer and found the number I was looking for. Brett Sherman was a ruthless private investigator who I’d hired when things turned sour with Julie. I thought for sure she’d try to pull some stunt and blackmail me or something, so I’d commissioned him to do some digging to get the dirt on her before she could even try. I’d used him on occasion since then. The fucker charged an arm and a leg, but the work he did was worth every inflated penny.

  I dialed the number and was pleasantly surprised when he answered on the first ring.

  “Brett Sherman.”

  “Brett, Noah Crawford,” I greeted him.

  “Mr. Crawford! What can I do ya for?” He was obviously happy to hear from me.

  “I need you to find out everything you can on a lady by the name of Delaine Talbot from Hillsboro, Illinois,” I said. “Do you need anything else?”

  “An age would be nice.”

  I felt even more disgusted with myself because I’d violated her in so many ways, with plans to violate her in even more ways in the future, and I didn’t even know the answer to that simple little question.

  “Early twenties,” I guessed.

  “That should be enough to go on. I’ll call you by the end of the week,” he said, and hung up the phone abruptly.

  Sherman didn’t have the manners for pleasantries, but I was fine with that because I knew he’d go right to work the second the call ended.

  “Noah!” David barged into my office, un-fucking-announced and un-motherfucking-invited.

  “What do you want?” I said in a voice that conveyed that I wasn’t in the mood to deal with his shit.

  “Do I have to want something to come have a chitty-chat with my friend?” he asked with an arrogant grin as he sat down in a chair and propped his feet on my desk.

  “You and I haven’t been friends for a long time, David. And I doubt we ever really were.” I leaned across the desk and knocked his feet down. And I was none too nice about it, either.

  “Oh, don’t be that way, Noah,” he said with a mock pout. “You don’t still have your panties in a twist over that Janet girl, do you?”

  “Julie, and fuck you.”

  “No, fuck you,” he said as if he was insulted. “I can’t believe you let a chick come between us, man. Whatever happened to bros before hos?”

  “Chitty-chat time is over, Stone. Get out or I’ll throw you out,” I said between clenched teeth.

  David stood and started for the door. “I swear, I don’t know why you’re still so bent out of shape over that slut. I told you, man. Or at least I tried to tell you. They’re all gold-diggin’ whores. Hit it and quit it, love ’em and leave ’em … whatever,” he said with a shrug. “Just don’t get emotionally attached, and never ever let them see you sweat, my brother.”

  I scoffed. “Like I’d take relationship advice from you.”

  “Say what you want about me, but the ladies are clawing at each other to get all up on my jock.” He grinned and then grabbed his junk. “Just wait until you see my date for the ball. Whew! She is one hell of a looker,” he said with a wink.

  “Hooker is probably more like it,” I mumbled as he walked out.

  I could hear the smug bastard boisterously greet Mason like they were old college buddies, and it made my eye twitch in aggravation. I really hated him. Our whole lives, he’d just had to have anything I had. I’d thought it was one of those things that best friends did, but David took that to a whole other level. My friends, my girl, even my company—he wanted it all.

  Well, I had something he could never have. I had Delaine. And I’d be damned if I’d ever let him anywhere near her.

  I’d had enough for the day, so I picked up the phone and told Samuel to bring the car around. It wasn’t like I was getting anything done anyway. I packed up and told Mason to call me if anything needed my immediate attention. I couldn’t wait to see Delaine for a bit of stress management, and I was pacing like a madman by the time Samuel arrived.

  He opened the door of the limousine for me to step inside and asked, “Where to, sir?”

  “Home, and when we get there, make sure the staff take the rest of the day off,” I told him. “I’d like a little bit of alone time with Delaine.”

  “Mr. Crawford, sir, Lanie left with Polly. They went shopping for a gown for the ball, I believe.”

  “Samuel, have you forgotten your place?” I asked in a calm voice, because he’d just called her Lanie and that wasn’t at all like him. “Her name is Delaine.”

  “My apologies, sir, but she asked me to call her Lanie.”

  My jaw clenched and I reached out and slammed the door shut myself. I shouldn’t have been upset with him, because it wasn’t his fault. He was just doing what he’d been asked to do, as usual. But damn it all to hell if I wasn’t royally pissed the fuck off that it seemed everyone else on the damned planet was calling her by such an informal name, yet she’d never asked me to do the same. You’d think the guy that was getting balls-deep in her would be awarded that privilege.

  It was around five o’clock that afternoon when Polly finally dropped her off and she strolled through the door. I hadn’t bothered to call and tell her that I would be home early, so she was surprised when she opened the door to find me sitting on one of the benches in the foyer. My knee was bouncing like crazy and my hair was mussed from my having practically pulled it out by the roots in my impatience.

  “Oh! Noah,” she said with a look of shock. “I wasn’t expecting you home so early.”

  “Obviously,” I said with a bit of resentment to my voice. “Where the fuck have you been, Delaine?”

  “I went shopping with Polly. She said there’s some sort of company function this weekend and insisted I have a new dress tailored,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

  “I told you that I wanted to know where you are at all times. Why didn’t you call me?” I realized that I sounded like a madman, but damn it, I was pissed.

  Silence fell around us as she continued to stare at me like she expected my head to explode. “Bad day?” she asked after what seemed like an eternity.

  I dropped my head and looked at the floor. “Yeah, you could say that,” I mumbled.

  Delaine set her bags down and walked over to where I sat. When I wouldn’t look up at her, she knelt down in front of me and searched my face. Without a word, she cupped it in her hands and pressed her lips to mine. What started out as a sweet kiss that was meant to calm me down quickly spiraled into a heated exchange of desperation.


  “God, I missed you, too,” she mumbled between kisses. I let pass without comment the fact that she hadn’t said my name in place of “God,” because I couldn’t really make myself care about that shit when she was rubbing all up on me and pressing her tits as close as she could get them to my chest.

  She shoved my jacket off my shoulders, and as I shrugged out of it, she went straight for my belt buckle. Then she made quick work of my pants and pulled the waistband of my boxer briefs away to reveal my cock. Of course I was already hard for her because that was what she did to me.

  A tiny mewl escaped her luscious pink lips when she looked me over. Then, without even pulling my underwear down, she grabbed me by the base of my dick and plunged it into the hot, deliciously wet cavern of her mouth. I hissed when I felt her teeth barely scrape my length. She was looking up at me and her plump lips were wrapped around my cock, moving back and forth like she was starving to death. Then she closed her eyes and hummed like my dick was the best damn thing she’d ever tasted. It was a divine sight.

  “Delaine,” I said on a breath, caressing her cheek with the back of my hand.

  Saying her name like that reminded me of how I was apparently the only motherfucker who called her that. But again, I let that shit go, because I could feel the head of my dick hitting the back of her throat with each pass she made. Plus her moans, intermingled with the wet sucking sounds coming from her efforts, echoed through the empty space that surrounded us. The foyer had really great acoustics.

  “Harder, baby. Suck me harder.”

  She moaned around my dick and then met the challenge. She repositioned herself so that she had a better angle and went to fucking work on my cock. Faster, harder—and, son of a bitch, she was even going deeper. I could’ve put my hands on her head to help her, but it was all her. I wanted her to do it on her own.

  She abruptly slowed and sank as far down on my dick as she could go. Then I felt her swallow around my cock, taking it even further into her throat. My baby could deep-throat like a motherfucker.

  “Goddamn, goddamn, goddamn,” I chanted as an orgasm came out of nowhere and commenced to kick my ass.