Pretty Dirty Trick

by Tabatha Kiss

  Her cheeks turn a little whiter. “And… what’s… that?” she squeaks.

  “Close your eyes,” I whisper.

  They stay open. “Why?”

  I kiss her trembling lips. “Trust me.”

  “Why?”

  “Pretty please?”

  “What are you gonna do?” she asks.

  “With sugar on top?”

  “Thad.”

  I smile. “Trust me, Pheebs.”

  I kiss her again, cutting off her next protest, but she relaxes. She parts her lips, taking my tongue, as I move my hands up her body. I run a line up her sides, moving slowly toward her hands as I guide her arms over her head.

  She giggles as my fingertips graze her armpits and I grin.

  “Ticklish, huh?” I ask.

  She hesitates. “A little…”

  “Good to know.”

  I wrap one end of my tie around the nearest bar of her headboard. It’s a little difficult to achieve with my tongue down her throat so my hands fumble a bit near her forehead, drawing her focus away from my distraction.

  She tilts her head up and her jaw drops again. “Thad…”

  I grab her left wrist. “Just a little playful shenanigans to get your blood pumping.”

  I expect her to jerk from my grasp but she doesn’t. She lets me move her hand and I wrap it loosely around her wrist, tying her to the headboard with plenty of give to keep her calm.

  “Is this okay?” I ask. “One word and it’s off.”

  Phoebe moves her hand in a wide arc over her head. She looks at me and exhales as the pink returns to her cheeks. “Seems okay…”

  “Good.” I shift away. “Let me grab the nipple clamps from my jacket.”

  She bolts upward. “The what?”

  I laugh, doubling back instantly. “I’m just kidding, Pheebs. I don’t carry nipple clamps around with me… but it’s kind of interesting that you think I would.”

  “God…” She breathes out and a laugh comes with it. “You said playful.”

  “This is playful.” I lean down to kiss her neck. “Just getting your blood pumping, remember?”

  “Yeah…” She sighs.

  I feel the light pulse of her heartbeat beneath her skin and smile. “Seems to be working.”

  “Mm-hmm…”

  I bite her lip and she flinches before letting out a quivering breath. “Silly Pinky,” I say. “You’re tense.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Or you’re really, really turned-on.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I sit back on my heels and laugh as I reach for my belt. Her breasts heave beneath me as she watches me unzip. I let my pants droop downward but stop at the base of my cock to tease her while I unbutton my shirt.

  “Thad…” she says.

  “Yeah?”

  “So… is this a one?”

  “A one?” I slide my shirt off my shoulders and toss it away.

  “Yeah, like… on the roughness scale?”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, this is a one.”

  She nods. “Okay.”

  I pull my tank off as she leans up onto her free elbow.

  “What’s a ten?” she asks.

  I study her big eyes, full of curiosity, and I shake my head. “Oh, you’re not ready for that,” I joke.

  “Well, duh.” She titters. “Just wondering what it’d be like.”

  “Okay.” I glance down her willing body again. “On the low-end of the scale, we have soft restraints, blindfolds, gags — the stuff you’d expect.” I lean over her and she stares into my eyes with great interest. “Around four or five, we get into…”

  I slide a hand behind her head, gently taking hold of her scalp.

  “Hair pulling.”

  I tighten my fist and she inhales sharply. I pause, waiting for her reaction but she’s still here. Still intrigued.

  I slide my free hand up her thigh, tracing a line between the split of her skirt.

  “Clothes ripping.”

  She gasps, jerking her head down as I yank it free, tearing it along the seam.

  “Whoa…” she breathes.

  I kiss her once, holding onto her hair with a tight grip to keep her still, as I rest my open palm on her hip. “And, my personal favorite thing…”

  I lightly slap her exposed flesh once and her lips twitch.

  “Spanking,” I say.

  Phoebe kisses me hard, her mouth hot to the touch. She caresses my face with her free hand and it falls along my shoulder and chest to rest on my waist.

  I smile. “You get above a seven and you basically need props.”

  She licks her lips, nodding and trembling beneath me. “Okay…”

  “Also,” I leave firm kisses along her cheek to whisper in her ear, “it’s pretty much guaranteed that I’d take your ass.”

  Her jaw drops but the lust never leaves her eyes.

  I give her lips a light peck before releasing her and sitting back. “But…” I shrug, “this is just a one, right?”

  “Right,” she says, her voice quivering.

  “Unless you heard something there you liked, of course.”

  She bites her lip, hesitating to answer.

  I won’t make her say it. I won’t make her do anything. Honestly, I could stop all of this right now and just fall asleep with her in my arms and I’d still wake up happy in the morning. Strange but true.

  Phoebe reaches out with her right hand before I can move. Her fingertips glide down my abs and hook into my open pants.

  She looks up at me, her eyes shaking. “Four,” she whispers.

  I raise a brow as my smirk climbs along my cheek. “That’s a good number,” I say.

  “I trust you,” she says.

  It makes my fingers and toes sing with warmth. She trusts me. In her bed. I won’t fuck that up.

  “Spread your knees,” I tell her.

  She does as I say, her eyes never leaving mine as she lies back. I look down to see her black panties revealed beneath her torn skirt. My blood pounds in my ears as I remember her tight and warm pussy. I haven’t touched anyone else since that night. I wanted her again. I needed her again.

  I push my pants down to my thighs, pulling my hard cock out as she stares with insatiable eyes. “You going to come for me tonight, Phoebe?”

  She scoffs. “Probably.”

  I chuckle at her response. “Then, I guess we should stop chatting about it…”

  I scoop her knees upward, drawing her even closer to myself. She wraps her thighs around my waist to align us perfectly and I smile as I feel her warm cunt just begging for me.

  I reach down and push the crotch of her panties aside. There’s no time to remove them anymore. I need to feel her now.

  One touch of her wetness and my body tightens. I feel a surge of greed deep inside. I want to take her harder but I hold back as I push in. I don’t want to hurt her. I want to make her squirm.

  She closes her eyes and her head tilts backs as she moans softly. I kiss her exposed neck, feeling that steady pulse thumping beneath her skin again. It’s faster than before. Pounding hard.

  I use it as my metronome, picking up my pace as I take her with quick, shallow thrusts.

  Her mouth sags open and she bites her lip. “Thad,” she whispers.

  I smile, excited by the thrill of my name on her tongue. “Yeah?” I ask.

  She kisses me, stealing my breath. “Harder,” she begs.

  “Not yet,” I tell her.

  She nods, submitting to my words, but I’m not resisting for her. If I fuck her like that now, then this will end far too quickly.

  I slide her bra strap down her shoulder, pushing the cup off to feel her bare breast in my palm. The size of it overflows in my hand as I squeeze and her nipple hardens for me. I lick my lips and lower down to pinch the hard bud between my teeth.

  She winces, feeling the sharp etch of my bite, but she never stops moaning. Good.

  I let my hips pulse a little harder, still holding b
ack somewhat. I want to pound her into the fucking headboard but she’s still not ready. I’m still not ready.

  I find her lips, cupping her cheek to pull her in. She returns every one of my kisses while I burrow my fingers back behind her head again, taking hold of her hair.

  “Milady,” I say, making her laugh. I press my forehead against hers, staring into her wide-open eyes. “You feel amazing.”

  She tries to say something but her voice falls away behind her moans.

  “Shhh,” I whisper. “Don’t say anything. Just look at me.”

  Her eyes stay locked on mine. I curl my fingers into a tighter fist, teasing her with the slightest pain as I tug her hair back. She quivers beneath me, barely blinking.

  I do it again, giving her a quick yank, and she bites her lip.

  “Did that hurt?” I ask. “Nod or shake your head. Don’t speak.”

  She nods.

  My lips graze hers. “Did you like it?”

  She nods again.

  I kiss her, offering a soft reward. “Do you want more?”

  Again, she nods, this time pushing up to steal a harder kiss from me.

  I snatch her chin between my fingers, giving her a firm touch to remind her who’s boss. I won’t punish her, though. Playful. That’s what this is.

  “Give me what I want first…” I say, “then I’ll give you more.”

  She twitches as passion and heat roll through her.

  “You know what I want to see, Phoebe?” I growl. “What I want to feel?”

  She nods.

  “Do it.” I kiss her hard. “For me.”

  Her jaw drops as climax rattles her from the inside out. I pause to watch the muscles of her face contort and the blood pulse through her cheeks like a warning light. She feels just as good as she did before but different. Tonight, she’s all mine. This was all me. These moans are for me and no one else.

  I slow my thrust, nearly pulling out of her as I release her and catch my breath. “Turn around,” I whisper, “and I’ll give you more.”

  Phoebe takes a few breaths to calm her buzzing body. Then she leans forward to shift around and her wrist catches as the tie goes taut. “Forgot…” she says, covering her face with her hand and laughing at herself.

  “I could always make it tighter,” I tease.

  She grins. “That’s my line.”

  I laugh as I press my lips against hers. “Oh, you’re fun.” She chuckles. “I like you.”

  Without another word, she turns around onto her hands and knees. Her neck cranes back and she looks up at me with soft, trusting eyes, waiting patiently for what I might do next.

  I hook a finger into the elastic of her panties and pull them down to expose her round ass. Pure white skin. Glistening pink folds.

  I lick my lips. “Good girl,” I say.

  I rest an open palm on her fleshy cheek and she shows a playful smile.

  * * *

  She’s exhausted.

  I pull the blanket up to cover us both. Phoebe rests on her back, her eyes losing a serious battle with fatigue. She could fall asleep at any moment but her lips twitch every so often. Blissful, content. Satisfied.

  I did good.

  Not that I’m surprised, naturally. It’s still a little shocking lying next to Phoebe Pink but I’ll get used to that quickly, I think. Every inch of my skin buzzes. That doesn’t happen to me much. I definitely want to feel this again. I will feel this again.

  “Hey, Thad.”

  I glance over at her. Her eyes are fully open now, softly staring up at her ceiling. That little catnap must have given her an extra boost. “Yeah?”

  “Do you spend any time in New York?” she asks. “I know you travel a lot, so…”

  “New York?” I repeat, sitting up. “Oh, yeah. I love New York. JFK is a massive bitch to fly into but the city’s great.” I study her pensive face. “Why?”

  She gives a quick shrug. “I’m up for a promotion at work. If I get it, I’ll have to relocate there.”

  “Awesome.” I nod. “Yeah, you’d love it.”

  “You think so?”

  “I usually pass through there about twice a week. We can meet up and I can show you around, if you want.”

  She smiles. “I’d like that.”

  “Do you think you’ll get it?”

  “If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, I’d have said hell yes.” She wrinkles her nose. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

  “Why not?”

  “My boss’ son-in-law wants it, too.”

  “Let me guess. You’re better, smarter, and way more qualified than he is?”

  “Pretty much,” she mutters.

  I shift onto my side to face her. “Sounds about right.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Want me to kick his ass for you?”

  She grins. “No. At least, not today.”

  “The offer will stand indefinitely.”

  “Thanks.”

  I lean down to kiss her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Pheebs. You’ll get it.”

  “I will?”

  “If you really, really want it, then you can have anything your heart desires. If that’s not true, then Disney movies flat-out lied to our generation and I want my childhood back.”

  She lays a hand over her mouth and laughs hard. “You make an excellent point.”

  I grab her wrist, lowering her hand down to free her lips. “Also,” I say, moving in, “you’re better,” I give her a kiss, “you’re smarter,” and another, “you’re way more qualified and I’m just naïve enough to think that still matters in this world.”

  “And if it doesn’t?” she asks.

  I roll my eyes. “We’ve covered this already. I’ll kick his ass.” She cracks up again. “I’ll kick all their asses.”

  “Stop,” she says, still laughing.

  I push up, balancing on my arms over her. “Seriously, though. I could, right?” I ask, flexing. “Look at these guns.”

  She snorts. “I can’t breathe…”

  I laugh with her, laying kisses on her nose and forehead until she pulls herself together. Tears in her eyes. Bright, pink cheeks. Smile lines etched into her face.

  I look at the clock on the table beside her bed. Just after ten. Already?

  “Do you need me to leave?” I ask.

  “Leave?” she repeats, surprised.

  “Just wondering whether or not I should keep my hotel reservation.”

  Her eyes brighten on me as she lays a warm hand on my cheek. “No, you can stay.”

  “I can?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, but... if I stay, I’m probably going to fuck you again.” She laughs. God, I love making her laugh. “I’m just saying. It’s a strong probability.”

  Phoebe leans up and kisses me. “And there’s a strong probability that I won’t mind.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I kiss her back.

  She moans. “Yeah, I just might even participate.”

  I chuckle against her lips. “Well, I should hope so.”

  I feel her other hand drift slowly between us, inching for my groin. My blood races her there and I’m almost fully erect again by the time her fingers wrap around it. She strokes me and I groan.

  “Oh, you weren’t kidding,” I say, grinning.

  She scoots down, calm and easy. “No, I wasn’t.”

  I close my eyes, feeling every little kiss she leaves down my abs until that warm, wet mouth opens for my cock. She takes me in deep, sucking hard and I flex to keep steady. Her hands squeeze my ass, fingernails digging in, and I groan with instant pleasure.

  Phoebe Pink.

  Who fucking knew?

  Seventeen

  Max

  Brittany Ives sits up tall in her chair and signals to the court reporter that she’s ready to begin. She scans across the table, her eyes peeking out over her thick-rimmed glasses at me and David across the table.

  We sit on either side of Alonso Argento’s plump form. His hands rest on top of th
e table, each wrist locked in handcuffs. Pretty standard protocol for a mobster on trial for murder.

  “Mr. Argento, have you ever been deposed before?” she asks, her voice deep with experience.

  Argento leans forward. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, a chuckle beneath his voice. “I have.”

  “Then, you are aware that, as the defendant in this case, you may invoke your fifth amendment rights and refuse questioning at any time?”

  He raises his hands. “I have nothing to hide.”

  “Sir, please refrain from any hand gestures and answer all questions verbally.”

  His palms touch the table again. “Okay.”

  Already, I begin to zone out. There’s no real reason for me to be here other than muscle. I wasn’t there for the prep and I honestly skimmed the notes. It’s not my case, no matter how much my father wants to try and stuff that down my throat.

  I glance at my watch. Fifteen past one. Five more hours and I’m free to head over to Phoebe’s for dinner. My mouth waters. Not sure if it’s because of the steak or her. The latter, I bet.

  I force my smile to stay down.

  “I will also remind you that you are under oath and any false information—”

  “Ms. Ives,” David says, smirking, “my client is aware of his rights and has been well-prepared for this deposition. Please get to the questions.”

  Brittany’s lips twist into what I assume is a smile. She casually looks to me, as if I’m David’s fucking keeper or something. I might as well be, truth be told.

  I give her a quick nod.

  “Very well.” She clears her throat. “Mr. Argento, would you please detail your whereabouts on the evening of January 19th of this year?”

  Argento smiles. “I was at my home away from home.”

  “And where is that?”

  His answers come out stiff and rehearsed. “Room 279 at the Botsford Plaza Hotel downtown,” he says.

  “Can anyone corroborate that?”

  “Of course,” he says. “The owner, the room service staff, and my wife.”

  “Was your wife there with you that night?”

  “No. We spoke on the phone.”

  Brittany pauses as she jots down a note. “And how exactly can your wife know your location? You could have called from anywhere.”