Pretty Dirty Trick

by Tabatha Kiss

  “If I just showed up, she wouldn’t talk to me anyway,” I argue.

  “Only one way to know for sure.” He pulls his sunglasses from his jacket with his good hand. “What the hell else are you gonna do today? Other than sitting around and moping beneath a gray cloud of drabby shit?”

  I stare straight ahead as he stands up, feeling the slow mix of adrenaline brewing in my gut. “Yeah, I’ll think about it,” I say.

  “No.” Robbie shakes his head. “You have not been paying attention at all. Don’t think. Just go do.”

  “I don’t even know where Nora is right now,” I say.

  “It’s Sunday. There’s only one place she’d be.” He slides the sunglasses on and grabs his coffee. “Go do.”

  This fucking guy. Slow-cookers and can-do attitudes? Clearly, he has no idea what he’s talking about. None of this will work on Nora Payne.

  The Perfect Nora Payne.

  I look up at the table across the coffee shop. The one we sat in during our “first date.” She told me all about Robbie and his drinking problem and how he…

  Never gave up. He’s never given up on the love of his life.

  “Hey, Rob.”

  He pauses and turns back to me.

  “Thanks,” I say. “You’re kind of a cool guy.”

  He smiles. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  Robbie exits the shop and zips up his jacket as he starts walking down the street, happily sucking on his hot pink straw.

  If I was that much in love, I don’t think I’d give up so easily.

  I told her that. Nora thinks I’m a liar now.

  I’m going to prove her wrong.

  Thirty-Seven

  Nora

  Tradition is tradition.

  Would I rather be curled up in my chair with yoga pants and pints of ice cream? Yes. Yes, I would.

  But it’s Sunday. And Sunday is brunch day.

  It was designed exactly for times like this. Leave your troubles at the door and enjoy a round of drinks with friends. Forget about that problem in your life for an hour.

  Forget about Clive Snow for an hour. I can do that. I can forget about his hands on my body and his voice in my ear and every little touch and caress of his lips. I can forget about the way my heart skipped when I saw him and how just one look into his blue eyes gave me butterflies for days and—

  Yeah, it’s not working. I can’t do this.

  Melanie snaps her fingers at me. “Stop that.”

  I blink out of it. “Stop what?”

  “You know damn well what.”

  “I’m sorry.” I tear another corner off my toast but I don’t eat it. “I’m still feeling pretty raw, okay? My head hurts, my nose is sore, and I’m afraid if I drink anything my body will just send it right to my tear ducts.”

  Trix nods. “You’re really rocking that sweater, though…”

  I smile. “Thanks.”

  “You’re gonna make it through this, Nora,” Melanie says. “I mean, if you really think about it, things could be a lot worse right now.”

  “I know. You’re right. I could be fending off reporters over a huge data dump scandal. I could lose my company, my reputation.” I sigh. “You’re right. I just can’t get past something Clive said.”

  “What’d he say?” Trix asks.

  I stab the crust of my toast with my nail. “He said that night in New York was real.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “I do,” I say, exhaling hard. “Was I too harsh?”

  “No,” Melanie says. “He lied to you and tried to steal your stuff. That’s instant not-okay.”

  Trix tilts her head. “Well…”

  I raise a brow. “You disagree? Whatever happened to poor equals thief?”

  “Okay, you know I’m not one to play the I told you so card, but I did tell you so about that one.”

  “Acknowledged and accepted,” I say.

  “But… I think I do disagree a little. I mean… Yeah, sure, he started out with some pretty cruddy intentions, but in the end, he did the right thing.” She shrugs. “That earns him some points in my book.”

  Melanie shakes her head at her. “Your moral compass is all over the place lately.”

  “It’s more like a pendulum, truth be told.”

  “Okay…” Melanie sighs. “I’ll concur — reluctantly — that he’s not all bad. He did make you very happy for a while… or his penis did, anyway.”

  “Yeah.” I chuckle. “He did.”

  “Do you think you’ll go back to the club?” Trix asks. “Find a new Dom?”

  “Hadn’t really thought about it.”

  I try and picture it. Me strapped to a St. Andrew’s cross with some other man standing behind me. Bent over and submitting to him instead. His hands on my body and his voice in my ear. His lips…

  It’s not the same.

  How in the world could anyone ever compare to Mr. Snow?

  A lump forms in my throat.

  I pull my napkin off my lap. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

  I stand up and walk away, slowly zigzagging around the tables toward the ladies’ room. It’s empty, thankfully, and I retreat into the first stall I see before my eyes spill over.

  No. No, Nora. You can’t do this to yourself.

  I swallow them back down and dab my eyelids with my sleeve.

  Clive lied to you. It’s complicated, but simple. It’s hard to fathom now, but someday, you’ll find love again. You see it all the time. You built a living based on that very fact. There’s always another open space in your little, black book for the next guy. No harm done. World not over.

  And you’re not alone. You have Trix and Melanie. And Robbie. Maybe even Lenny the massage therapist if you promise not to make insane house calls.

  You are Nora Payne.

  Fucking act like it.

  I stand up tall and check myself in the mirror before heading back. Our usual server stands near a table just outside the restrooms, gathering a round of empty glasses and setting them on his tray.

  “Excuse me,” I say, prompting him to turn toward me. “Could we have a few waters delivered to our table, please?”

  “Yeah. I’ll bring them right out, Ms. Payne,” he says with a nod.

  “Thank you...” I pause. “I’m sorry, I’ve been winking at you for like a year and I don’t even know your name.”

  His lips curl. “It’s Roger.”

  My jaw drops as I place his voice. He hits me with a sinister wink and spins away, epically balancing his tray of empties as he rushes off toward the back.

  I close my mouth. “Well, that’s a twist,” I mutter to myself.

  “Nora!”

  I stop in my tracks a foot away from our table. “Clive?”

  I spin around as he rushes toward me through the restaurant. People turn in the chairs, muttering among themselves and recoiling as he runs by.

  “Clive, what are you doing here?” I ask as he stops in front of me. “And what is that smell?”

  “I had to see you,” he says. “And… bus.”

  “Bus?”

  “The horrible, awful bus I took to get back here from New York.”

  My lips twitch. “You just now got back here?”

  He nods. “I spent all day and all night thinking about what I could possibly say to you to make you forgive me.”

  I cross my arms, cursing my curiosity. “And what did you come up with?”

  He shakes his head. “A bunch of sentimental crap, mostly. And excuses for my judgment. But it’s all meaningless bullshit because even if it worked and everything went back to the way it was, we’d still be living with the fact that I took advantage of your trust and I don’t know how to fix that. No amount of trust falls could ever make up for what I did.”

  I look down, biting my cheek to force the tears away. “You might be right,” I say.

  “So, I don’t blame you,” he says. “If you tell me to turn around right now and get out of
your life, I’ll do it.” He takes a deep breath. “But until you do, I’m gonna beg.”

  He drops to his knees, bringing a few swoons from the crowd.

  “Ms. Nora Payne, I’m begging you to take me back.”

  My cheeks burn red. “You’re begging?”

  “Yes.” He holds his hands in prayer. “I’m begging you. Forgive me, please.”

  “Clive—”

  I take a step back but he follows me on his knees.

  “Clive, get up—”

  “I’ll do anything to be with you again,” he says. “Just say the word and I’ll do it.”

  My brow piques. “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  I hold my breath and look around. All eyes are on me. Trix and Melanie. Clive and the staff. Complete strangers have abandoned their meals to see how this plays out. My skin tingles with embarrassment. My heart bleeds for him all over again.

  Clive doesn’t even blink. He adores me with those sinfully sweet blue eyes, patiently waiting. And he’ll keep waiting. He’ll beg and plead to me like…

  Like a sub.

  “Stand up,” I tell him.

  He pushes off the floor and stands up tall in front of me.

  “Take off your belt.”

  His brow furrows in confusion. “My belt?”

  “Take off your belt.”

  I extend my hand for it.

  Clive studies the hard lines on my face before exhaling and doing as I say. He reaches down and tugs it free, quickly sliding it out of his belt loops and laying it in my open palm.

  I fold it in half, gripping it tightly. “Lay your palms on the table,” I tell him.

  He blinks. “What?”

  “Lay your palms on the table, Mr. Snow.”

  His expression shifts, losing every bit of confusion and replacing it with subtle shock. He glances around as if to silently remind me of where we are but I know exactly where the fuck we are.

  He clears his throat and turns to place his palms on our table. “Ladies,” he says, nodding at Trix and Melanie.

  “Don’t talk to them,” I snap. “You’re talking to me right now.”

  He turns his head around. “Nora—”

  I touch the belt to his back and he shuts up. “Did I say you could turn around?” I ask.

  Melanie and Trix take out their phones.

  Clive looks forward again. “Nora—”

  “You will call me Ms. Payne.”

  “Ms. Payne,” he corrects, “don’t you think this discussion could happen somewhere a bit more private?”

  I shrug. “Nah.”

  I snap the belt along his back and he tenses. An audible gasp lingers behind me but I don’t bother turning around. Let them watch.

  “Tell me, Mr. Snow,” I say, pausing to tap him again, “if your submissive lied to your face… what would their punishment be?”

  Clive hesitates. I hear him inhale but no words come out.

  I hit him again, this time a little harder. “When I ask you a question, I expect an immediate response.”

  “I…” He breathes out. “I don’t know.”

  “Would you tie them up for a public flogging?” I ask. “How many lashes would make up for lying?”

  “Depends on the lie,” he answers.

  I whack his shoulder. “Conspiracy to commit theft. How many lashes for that?”

  He sighs. “Nora…”

  “Saying I love you.” I hit him as hard as I can and he grunts. “How many lashes for that?”

  “I didn’t lie about that.”

  “Bullshit.”

  I raise the belt as Clive spins around. He catches my wrist in mid-air and forces me to stop.

  “I didn’t lie about that,” he says again, his eyes locked with mine. “If you walk away from this believing anything, make it that.”

  I look away from him but he nudges my chin right back up.

  “Nora, I love you.” His fingers slide to my cheek. “I might be your chocolate or your strawberry or your rocky road, but you… you’re my vanilla.”

  Melanie frowns. “The fuck?”

  I ignore her as Clive leans in a little closer.

  “You’re the…” He smiles and he lowers my arm. “You’re the silky-smooth, under-appreciated staple that I should have embraced a long time ago. You make everything sweeter. And I can’t imagine a life without you.”

  He takes a step back and lets go of my wrist. His hand falls from my face as he puts a little space between us. My heart aches. I’ve lost my anchor again.

  “But if this is what you want, Ms. Payne, then… you should do it right.”

  Clive loosens his tie and pulls it up and over his head.

  I blink with confusion, my eyes widening as he takes off his jacket and starts flicking the buttons open on his shirt. “Clive…”

  “Ten,” he says.

  He tosses his clothes back at the table and Trix snatches them in mid-air.

  “Ten?” I ask.

  Murmurs and chuckles rise behind me. He stands tall in nothing but his pants and shoes, his epic arms and chest on full display. My jaw drops along with everyone else’s but no one seems to do a thing to stop this.

  “Conspiracy to commit theft,” he says. “Ten lashes.”

  He turns around and places his palms on the table again.

  Trix gasps at his shirtless chest. “Oh, Daddy...”

  “It’s happening,” Melanie whispers, tilting her phone for a better angle.

  This went a lot further than I thought it would…

  Uh-oh…

  “Ms. Payne,” he says, “I’m ready for my punishment.”

  I glance at the belt in my hand.

  Oh, my god…

  I bite my cheek, my eyes locked on his muscular back. It feels strange to be on this side but utterly exhilarating, too. My pulse quickens and my sex begins to throb.

  I raise my arm and snap it down. The belt hits his right shoulder blade and he cringes.

  “One,” I count.

  I hit his shoulder again, leaving a light pink spot on his skin.

  “Two.”

  A smile creeps across my lips.

  I slap his left shoulder, two quick taps just a little bit faster.

  “Three. Four.”

  Clive lets out a light groan but his hands don’t leave the table. An intense spike of curiosity trembles me. I wonder what it would take to make him move… make him cry out for me.

  I whip him three times in a row, slapping as hard as I can.

  “Five. Six. Seven.”

  His back stiffens, the tight muscles quivering beneath his skin. Heat fires through my core. Just three to go.

  I raise the belt but I don’t hit him. I let it dangle along his spine, gently tapping until a laugh exhales from his throat. I toy with him the same way he toys with me. He’ll make me regret it later, I’m sure.

  And I can’t wait.

  I smack him again. “Eight.”

  And again. “Nine.”

  I pause, letting the final suspense last.

  Finally, I jerk my arm and whip him on the ass.

  “Ten,” I say.

  Clive spins around to face me. His bright eyes lock on me and I can barely take another breath before he grabs my arm and yanks me closer.

  He kisses me hard. I fall into his arms, accepting the embrace as our tongues come together and his body heat blends with mine.

  Trix and Melanie erupt into hollers and applause, prompting several other tables behind us to do the same.

  “Okay,” I say, taking a breath. “I forgive you now.”

  Clive pulls away but he’s not done with me yet. Not by a long shot. He takes his belt from my hand and turns to retrieve his shirt and jacket from Trix and Melanie.

  “So, what do normal couples usually do after a public flogging?” he asks me.

  I smile, my chest heaving. “Well, according to my expertise… a fuck-ton of sex. Immediately.”

  He looks over my should
er. “You ladies got the check?”

  Trix grins. “Yeah, we got it.”

  He grabs me and tosses me over his shoulder. I yelp in surprise, laughing hard as excitement and passion rip through me.

  He takes a few steps but turns back and points at Melanie. “Was that video?” he asks her.

  “I got every second,” she answers with a laugh.

  “Send it to her phone, will ya?”

  She swipes her screen. “Way ahead of you, Daddy.”

  “Thanks.”

  Clive carries me around the clapping tables toward the exit. My skin tingles as every eye in the place watches us go. I don’t even try to hide my face. I wear my smile proudly.

  He is my Dom. I am his sub.

  And I’ve been a bad girl.

  We pass the hostess station and Roger rushes forward to hold the door open for us.

  “Have a good day, folks,” he says with a wink.

  He reaches down and low-fives me as we leave.

  Thirty-Eight

  Nora

  Judy lays the card on the counter between us. “And there you are, Ms. Payne,” she says.

  I pick up the card. It’s still a little warm from her laminating machine. I admire the scarlet-branded logo and smile at the one word glistening in its corner.

  Member.

  “Thanks, Judy,” I say as I slide it into my clutch along with my debit card.

  She smirks at me with a hand on her hip. “I knew I had a good feeling about you.”

  I hide my clutch in the pocket of my trench coat. “Well, when you’re right…”

  Her hand falls beneath the counter and she unlocks the door. “Enjoy your stay,” she says.

  I walk in. My eyes adjust quickly to the darker lighting and I stop by the bar for a bottle of water before heading right to the stairs.

  A dark form passes me halfway up.

  I flash a quick wink at him. “Hey, Roger.”

  He gestures at me with his black latex hand. “Ms. Payne,” he greets.

  I continue on without stopping. It’s what I was told to do.

  The second floor is crowded, making goosebumps raise on my skin. It’ll be all right, though. He’ll make me feel safe. He always does.