Pretty Dirty Trick

by Tabatha Kiss

  “Thank you.”

  “Which is why I still find it a little surprising that you’re even here at all,” I say.

  “Meaning?”

  I lean forward on the counter. “Does anyone else know you’re here?”

  “Like who?”

  “You know who.”

  “No,” she answers. “No one else knows I’m here.”

  “Do you plan on telling anyone that you were here?”

  She squints in confusion. “When did it become my turn for questions?”

  “Do you?” I ask again.

  “Does that make you uncomfortable?” she counters.

  I don’t answer. She smiles.

  “Lance, I know what you’re thinking.”

  “You do?” I ask.

  “How can I not?” Her head tilts. “I’d venture to say we both feel a little uncomfortable with aspects of each other.”

  “Understatement.”

  “But that’s not what I think about when I talk to you,” she says. “In fact, my father and his legal troubles are the last things on my mind right now and I want to keep it that way.”

  I smile. “Really?”

  “It’s ironic, I know, but… if it’s all right with you, I’d like to keep my family’s business off-the-table tonight. I’d rather just get to know you instead without all the… dramatic bullshit.”

  “Keep it simple, huh?” I ask.

  She pauses with a slight twitch in her eyes. “Yeah,” she says. “Simple.”

  “Well, I’m not going to argue with that,” I say. The oven dings behind me and I slide my mitt on again. “Mostly because I have been dreaming of this since this afternoon and I’m not going to be talking much anyway…”

  I slide the filet mignons out and she gasps.

  “Damn,” Trix says, leaning in to smell the air. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I want you inside of me.”

  “Why would I take that the wrong way?” I ask.

  “Oh, I’m not talking to you,” she says, staring at the pan.

  I laugh as I grab a few plates from the cupboard.

  Fifteen

  Trix

  Good god…” I pull my napkin off my lap and wipe my mouth. “Well, you were right.”

  Lance does the same. “About what?”

  “Your meat is amazing,” I say. “And I don’t care how you take that.”

  He laughs and reaches for the wine bottle to top off his glass. “More?” he asks.

  “Yes, please.”

  I slide my glass a little closer to him on the table, suddenly feeling a presence by my side. I look down as Layla rests her head on my thigh.

  “Aww,” I say, chuckling.

  “Layla,” Lance says with a stern tone. “Get back.”

  “No, it’s fine!” I lay my fork down and pet her head. “She just wants some attention.”

  “She wants some steak is what she wants.”

  I laugh. “Bet she’s the center of your attention most of the time?”

  “She’s well-looked after, yes.”

  “Not a whole lot of dog-loving houseguests?” I ask.

  “Not really, no.”

  He snaps his fingers twice and Layla inches away but she doesn’t go far. She lies down on the floor by the table a few feet away and waits for her next opportunity.

  “Sorry, doggy,” I say, picking up my fork again. “But this is too damn good to share.”

  I take another bite and the hurricane of flavors dance on my tongue.

  “Where did you learn to cook like this?” I ask him.

  “My father,” Lance answers.

  “Oh, yeah? Was he a chef?”

  “He likes to think so.” He laughs. “But he could really only do one dish well.”

  “Let me guess, steak and potatoes?”

  “Bingo.”

  I stab a piece of potato and hum as it melts on my tongue. We fall into an oddly comfortable silence as we eat. Usually, silence at dinner signals to me that a date is going horribly but that’s not how this feels at all.

  What the hell is this feeling, anyway? Why doesn’t the very sight of this guy churn my stomach? Why doesn’t this feel wrong when everything about it is?

  Before I know it, my plate is almost clean. I don’t want to keep stuffing myself silly, so I gently push it away and hide my fork beneath my napkin out of sight.

  “Well, Lance, you’ve officially impressed me,” I say. “Thank you. This was nice.”

  He nods. “Overall, I’d say its gone much better than expected.”

  “I agree.”

  He sips his drink. “You’ve probably heard this before but you’re fun to talk to.”

  I smile. “No one’s ever told me that before.”

  “No?”

  “No, most guys don’t really care to talk to me for very long.”

  “Why not?”

  I shake my head. “Guess they don’t think I have much to say.”

  “They’re morons,” he says.

  “That’s what I tell them.”

  “Maybe that’s why they don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Eh…” I shrug. “Their loss.”

  “Yes, it is.” He studies my face, his eyes wandering slightly. “I don’t get it,” he says.

  “Why men are morons?” I quip. “I’ve got some theories.”

  “No…” He leans in. “How a woman like you could be related to a man like Argento.”

  I press my lips together. “The elephant in the room rears its head again.”

  “I just want to do the right thing, Trix,” he says. “For you. For me. For this city. And you’re right. Your family does do some good but even bad people do good things sometimes.”

  “And good people do bad things every day,” I add. “My father’s not perfect and I’d never claim otherwise but I sure as hell don’t want to see him locked up.”

  Lance tilts his head. “Well...”

  “Well, what?”

  “You called him a saint before shoving me off a balcony, so...” he cracks a smile, “you did kind of claim he was perfect.”

  I glare at him. “Fucking lawyers...”

  Lance laughs and slides his plate away like I did. “Is there anything else you want from me?” he asks.

  “What?”

  “I asked you earlier,” he says. “You told me to ask you again tonight, so I am.”

  “Still feels just as loaded of a question as it did this morning,” I say.

  He finishes his last sip of wine. “That’s a yes.”

  “That’s a…” I exhale. “Maybe.”

  “Not a yes?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On what you want from me,” I say.

  “What makes you think I want something from you?”

  I raise a brow.

  “I’d say I’ve made my intentions obvious already,” he says. “I want to limit mafia activity in Chicago but I need inside help to do it.”

  “Inside help?” I repeat. “Like me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “Why do you think I have that kind of power?”

  “Don’t you?” He looks at my shoulder. “Or you will soon. Isn’t that what you want him out early for?”

  “So, what you’re saying is, you can get him out sooner, ensure my place in his business, just in time for you to dismantle the whole thing? Gotta tell you, Lance, it’s not as good of a bargain as you make it out to be.”

  He leans closer. “Trix, your family is already in trouble. Alonso getting caught exposed a lot more than murder and if it’s not me at the helm, it’ll be somebody else — somebody not fond enough of you to make you a nice dinner like this.”

  “And what do you get out of it?” I ask.

  “Other than the pleasure of your company?”

  “Obviously.”

  He sits back. “I’m just doing my job. A job I’m very good at but I’d rather not take you down if I don’t have to.” />
  I study his face. “Why not?”

  He tilts his head. “Well, if you haven’t picked up those hints by now…”

  “Oh, I have,” I say. “I just want you to quit dicking around and say it already.”

  His lips twitch. “Okay, then.” He stands up out of his chair and sits down in the one beside me, sliding it as close to mine as possible. “But first — I have a question. It’s a personal one.”

  “This shit again, huh?”

  His grin grows as he looks at my lips and back up again to my eyes. “What’s the deal with you and Donner?” he asks.

  I ease back. “Marcus?”

  He nods.

  “Nothing,” I say, my voice spiking.

  “Nothing?”

  “Whole lotta nothing.”

  “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

  I straighten my back. “He’s just...”

  I look at Lance again, feeling the slow churn of annoyance but not toward him. Lance gazes back at me and the feeling subsides, pushed away by a cool rush of warmth.

  “A huge mistake,” I say. “One I may never recover from.”

  “You dated?”

  “Not technically. Everything but, mostly. It’s over now.”

  “Over?”

  “Over and done with.” I give a large nod. “Dead and buried.”

  “Is that why he was so pissed at the auction?” he asks. “Because you’re over?”

  “Yeah, and...” I clear my throat. “There was also the whole marriage proposal thing that didn’t go well for him.”

  “He proposed?”

  “Long story but — really — it’s over and you have nothing to worry about tonight.”

  Lance pauses with subtle, amused eyes. “Why would I be worried tonight?”

  “I just mean with...” I gesture between us. “You know.”

  His head cocks to the side. “Know... what?”

  “You know,” I repeat. “If we wanted to...” I shut my mouth in annoyance. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

  Lance breaks into a quiet laugh. “Yes, I am.”

  I slap his arm. “Dick.”

  He kisses me, raising a soft hand to rest on my cheek. We linger here, immersing ourselves a little too deep. It’s just one kiss — our second kiss — but it’s somehow just as intense as the first one. No, maybe more. Excitement builds in me. Unlike the first one, there’s no crowd here. No cameras. No family or Marcus.

  We can do it again and no one can stop us.

  Lance pulls away an inch but I push in to steal a third kiss. He instantly returns, gently easing me closer to him until I can’t go farther without falling off the chair. I part my lips for his tongue and mine twitches for the chance to feel him and taste him.

  I break the kiss, letting us breathe. “Oh, boy...”

  “That’s...” He swallows. “Yeah. Maybe we shouldn’t—”

  “Just don’t think about it.”

  “All right.”

  We kiss again as we rise out of our chairs. Lance wraps his arms around my lower back and easily lifts me up and carries me into the living room. Our lips barely part the whole way over to the couch.

  I hike up my skirt and straddle him, feeling his hands slowly glide up my thighs to rest on my hips. My body grinds on him with a mind all its own. I moan softly into his mouth and his fingers twitch just a little higher toward my breasts. Our lips don’t stop, taking as many kisses as we can before one of us inevitably starts thinking again.

  Lance gives in and cups my breasts, sparking a flurry of heat in me. I moan again, driven even more by the sensation of his hips gently bucking with my grind. I run my fingers through his thick hair. I draw light lines with my nails along his scalp and neck until I reach his tie. I loosen it quickly but I stop myself from yanking it off.

  What are we doing?

  Lance shifts on the couch, moving his hands down to my hips again. I think that he’s come to his senses and that he’s about to push me off but he turns us and guides me down onto my back to tower over me instead.

  Our lips lock again and I spread my legs to pull him on top of me. His hand finds my breast again, gently squeezing me before sliding down to inch up my skirt.

  I grow tense with the feel of his hand slowly touching my skin. It’s a tension of heat and greed. I need him to keep going, to push me further until release — no matter how wrong it is.

  He slides his hand into my panties and I let out a pleasurable sigh. His kiss falls to my neck and I grip his shirt, my entire body fading into a state of blissful torment. I gasp as his tongue taps my skin with every kiss and his hand sinks even closer to my aching core.

  A key slides into the front door.

  Lance pulls his hand away and hops back on the couch with panic on his face.

  “Shit...” he breathes.

  The lock clicks. He wipes his lips and plants his feet on the floor, gently nudging mine to the side and I do the same. I take the hint, reading his face as I push my skirt down to cover my thighs.

  The front door opens and a young woman walks inside. She wears a t-shirt, jeans, and a deep pink bomber jacket and holds a small duffel bag in one hand and her phone in the other.

  “Haley!” Lance says, flashing a smile. “Hey!”

  “Hey.”

  She glances up from her phone, her eyes instantly going wide as she scans the room. Her gaze lands on the kitchen table and the candles and then me.

  She halts in place, obviously stuck between continuing her walk inside and running back outside.

  “Heeeeey,” she says again.

  “What, uh...” Lance shoots up off the couch, his tie still dangling loose. “What are you doing here?”

  She closes the door behind her. “I live here,” she says.

  “Well, yeah — I just mean...” He pushes his hand through his hair as he twitches awkwardly. “You said you were coming back Sunday night.”

  “Right, well...” She looks at me but flicks away just as fast. “Things got boring and a storm is coming, so we decided to come back early... Is that okay?”

  “Yes!” His voice breaks. “Yes. It’s fine. Did you have fun, otherwise I mean?”

  “Yeah.” She nods. “It’s camping.”

  “Awesome.” He gestures at me. “Trix, this is Haley. Haley, this is my friend, Trix.”

  I wave. “Hi,” I say, smiling.

  She half-waves with a nod, barely looking at me. “Hi.”

  We all fall silent.

  Haley points a thumb over her shoulder and walks backward toward the stairs. “So, I’m gonna be in my room...”

  Lance nods. “All righty then.”

  I raise an amused brow. All righty then?

  “Goodnight,” she says.

  “Goodnight, honey.”

  She spins on her heel and picks up her pace to get up the stairs as fast as possible. Even the dog is smart enough to follow her up, happily leaving us to our awkward silence.

  As soon as they disappear, Lance lets out a deep breath and turns to look at me but he doesn’t say anything. He opens his mouth and closes it again behind an awkward frog in his throat.

  “So… Haley?” I ask.

  “Haley,” he says, nodding.

  “She’s...?”

  “My daughter.”

  I blink, searching his face. “How old is she?”

  “She’s eighteen,” he answers.

  “Uh-huh. And how old are you?”

  He swallows. “I’m thirty-four.”

  I trip over the math in my head. “Oh, wow...”

  “Yeah.”

  “Those numbers are really close together.”

  Lance sits back down on the couch beside me. “I was sixteen,” he says.

  My jaw drops. “Oh...”

  “Her mother was fifteen.”

  “... kay.”

  “High school sweethearts,” he adds.

  “Right.” I sneak a peek at his ring finger. “So, does that make you marrrr
riii—”

  “Single.”

  My head falls back. “Thank god.”

  He chuckles as he runs his hand through his hair again. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention her before. It’s just... well, I usually don’t unless things get serious, you know?”

  “Right, yeah. I get it. Totally. It’s not my business.”

  “She went camping this weekend with her friends,” he explains. “Wasn’t supposed to be back until—”

  “Sunday night?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Probably for the best. I hear a storm is coming.”

  “I heard the same.” He brings his hands together, exhaling another deep breath. “Again, I’m really sorry about this.”

  I touch his knee with a reassuring tap. “Lance, it’s okay,” I say. “Really. It’s not a big deal. We probably should have stopped anyway. Okay, maybe like ten seconds later. It was getting pretty good, but still...”

  He smiles. “Right.”

  I shift, almost standing. “I should probably go...”

  He hops up and extends his hand to me. “Yeah, that’s generally the correct response to the kid walking in. I think.”

  I chuckle as I take his hand. He helps me up but I let our palms linger together for a few seconds more. “She seems great, by the way,” I say, fighting the tension.

  “She is. Usually a bit chattier, but...”

  “Doesn’t walk in on Dad with a strange woman very often, huh?”

  “She does not.”

  I smile. “Good to know.”

  He leans in and lays a silent kiss on my lips.

  “Just wanted to do that one more time,” he says.

  My cheeks burn. “You say that like it’s the last time.”

  He pauses with his jaw pushes to one side. “Can we honestly say it won’t be?” he asks.

  I exhale as reality sinks in. “No,” I answer as I pick up my purse. I press my lips together, still tasting a bit of him on them, as he walks me to the door and opens it for me.

  “Goodnight, Trix,” he says.

  I pause in the doorway, fighting the urge to kiss him again — but he’s right. That one might have been the last. That one should be the last if we were as smart as we tell each other we are.

  “Goodnight,” I say. “And goodnight to Haley. And Layla, of course.”

  He chuckles. “I’ll pass it on.”

  I hold my head up as I walk outside, desperate to figure out what the fuck just happened to me in there.