Tempting Bad

by M. Robinson

  I tried not to stare, but I think my mouth may have been slightly parted. My cock was the first to jump onboard. I cleared my throat and sat up straighter; she was not what I was expecting, in the least.

  She grinned as if knowing exactly what I was thinking. She raised an eyebrow, which only made her look more alluring.

  Jesus Christ…

  “It’s rude to stare, Devon; didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” she stated, in a teasing yet flirty tone.

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry, but it appears as if you already know who I am.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “And you know who I am, so who’s playing coy?”

  I nodded and nudged my head toward her seat.

  “Aren’t you going to pull out my chair?”

  I laughed. “Again, I apologize, let me.” I stood up and pulled her chair out.

  She leaned forward a little too close to my face and I instantly smelled her coconut scent. She placed her delicate hand on my shoulder and sat down; making sure to spread her legs just enough for me to see she wasn’t wearing any panties. She caught me gazing, because she immediately crossed her legs and scooted in her chair.

  “Thank you, I knew there was a gentleman in there somewhere.”

  “I grew up with three sisters and a mother, I know all about being a gentleman, Bambi.” I don’t know what possessed me to call her that, it just sort of came out. She had these big blue eyes that held so much expression and emotion behind them; it reminded me of Bambi. I had watched it with my nieces and Ethan a few weeks ago.

  “Bambi? Now I’ve been called a lot of things before, but never Bambi… I like it.”

  I nodded, smiling.

  The server arrived with my drink and a bottle of wine. I noticed the label immediately; I had it at my bar. It was a $10,000 bottle. I always wondered about the types of people that would spend a small fortune on frugal items. It only made me more curious about her. He poured her a glass and she excused him while we waited for the rest of our party.

  “They know me by name here. I actually come often. Hence, the complementary wine.”

  “I see,” I replied, taking a sip of my drink.

  “So… Devon, I’m not big on pet names. In my opinion, when a person gives you a nickname, it’s because they don’t actually remember your real name. They would rather call you something simple, like baby or sweetie. You see it’s not really a term of endearment, it’s so they don’t scream out another woman’s name while you’re riding them.”

  My eyes widened and I almost choked on my drink.

  She didn’t falter. “You don’t mind if I just call you Devon, do you? I like to learn people’s names.”

  I felt like she was baiting me… almost as if to prove to her that men were scum. It was a test of some sort and I couldn’t tell if it was for me…

  Or for her.

  “I know your name, Brooke Stevens,” I clarified and she locked eyes with me.

  “Good to know.” She leaned forward and her tits were pretty much in my face. She licked her lips and spoke with conviction. “You can look, Devon, I actually want you to.”

  “Wow, so this is how it’s like, huh? You come on this strong to everyone?”

  Her eyes glazed over, puzzled, but she quickly covered it. “Only to men that I like.”

  “How long have you lived in Miami?” I asked changing the subject, but she didn’t move.

  “All my life.”

  “How long have you known Ysabelle?”

  “Eight years.”

  “Do you like Miam—”

  “Devon,” she interrupted. “Why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “How long have I been a VIP?” she countered confidently.

  “Alright… I’m game. How long have you been a VIP?”

  She smiled. “I was born one.”

  I laughed. “You’re not going to make it easy on me, are you?”

  “Is that how you like it? Easy?” She leaned forward a few more inches from my face, and looked down at my mouth, that was mere centimeters away from hers. “Because, Devon, I like it rough. You should come to The Cathouse and I can show you just how rough I like it,” she erotically whispered.

  The smell of her peppermint and cabernet breath, had my already rock hard cock, jutting to the point of pain. She bit her bottom lip, waiting for me to make the next move. I don’t know what came over me, but I moved her hair away from her face and she leaned into my hand, never taking her eyes off my mouth. I caressed her soft skin with my knuckles, but stared at her face. I didn’t want her hiding from me, and something inside me told me that’s all she ever did.

  “I’m sorry we’re late,” Ysabelle’s voice interjected, breaking our connection.

  She subtly pulled away, turning to get up and hug her and Sebastian. I followed suit, pulling Ysabelle into a tight hug and kissing her on the cheek, and shook hands with Sebastian.

  We all sat down and the waiter poured them wine. Sebastian ordered a scotch and I ordered another whiskey neat.

  “Bella, I love that dress. Where did you get it?” Brooke asked. Her demeanor had changed. The girl went from hot to cold in seconds and it gave me an eerie feeling of how many times she had done this before.

  Was this a rehearsed performance she repeated often?

  “I’m not quite sure. I bought it on the island, so it’s not designer,” Ysabelle answered.

  Brooke cocked her head to the side, almost offended in a joking manor. “What are you trying to say? I don’t wear anything that doesn’t have a label on it?”

  Ysabelle rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say.”

  And Brooke shook her head, blowing it off. She turned to look at me with those intense baby blue eyes that could bring me to my knees. “I was just telling Devon here how he should come by The Cathouse and maybe see about getting a membership.”

  Ysabelle choked on her drink. “Oh my God, Brooke! I told you to behave.”

  She shrugged. “I am… this is me behaving.”

  The night proceeded with dinner. When the bill came, Sebastian and I pulled out our wallets, but Brooke grabbed it immediately, insisting that she was paying the bill; much to our disapproval.

  We made our way to a bar down 7th Ave. Sebastian and Ysabelle walked hand-in-hand, while Brooke and I were beside them. She was swaying her perfectly round ass with each step she took. Her figure was ridiculous; she was curvy in all the right places.

  Men and women’s eyes turned to look at her, to look at both of them. I knew Ysabelle had a pull when it came to the opposite sex, but Brooke was exactly the same. There was something about them that screamed sex and it wasn’t subtle, it was blatant and in your face.

  They walked right up to the entrance, not bothering to stop or even look at the line that was around the corner. The bouncer didn’t bat an eye, he unclasped the rope and let us right in. Brooke led us upstairs to a private table that was in the dead center of the place. It was the best table in the house. There was a bottle of Moet and Grey Goose with mixers, glasses, and ice.

  A circular, white leather couch surrounded us. The bottle hostess introduced herself immediately and stated that she was our private hostess for the entire night. She said she would get us “anything” we wanted with a nod and a wink. Brooke smiled high and bright, looking over at me and winking.

  I watched Brooke hand Sebastian a drink and Ysabelle champagne, they exchanged a few words and Brooke pulled Ysabelle away. I made my way over to the balcony with a drink in hand, leaning on the railing and nodding my head to the music. I caught Sebastian standing next to me from the corner of my eye.

  “Any particular reason you didn’t tell Ysabelle about our confrontation?” Sebastian asked, looking straight ahead.

  No time like the present.

  “I could ask you the same thing. I love her and as long as she’s happy, that’s all that matters to m
e.” And it was the truth. There was no need for me to inform Ysabelle of our argument when I came to visit. It wouldn’t change anything. I knew he was a good guy. I knew deep down he was fully aware that he fucked up.

  Men want what they want when they want it. That’s just how we’re made. We’re selfish.

  “Well then, we can agree on that,” he replied, still not looking at me.

  I was over playing this back and forth game with him. A part of me wanted him to suffer for what he put her through, but it wasn’t my hand to deal, it was hers.

  “We’re going to be in each other’s lives, Sebastian. I’m not going to take her away from you. I’m not going to fight for her; I’m not a threat to you. But… I will always be here for her.” He needed to understand that I wasn’t going anywhere, as much as he wanted me to…

  He turned to look at me. “Man to man, Devon, I don’t fucking like you and I’m not going to pretend like I do. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be in her life, and if I were an asshole, I would tell her so. I’m grateful that you protected her and looked out for her when I wasn’t there, but I’m here now and I’m not fucking going anywhere. Let’s agree to disagree and be civil for her sake.”

  I nodded.

  At least now we were on the same page.

  “If you’re dragging me in the bathroom to do drugs with you, Brooke, I’m going to slap you,” Ysabelle informed.

  “Eww… no. I want to talk about Devon,” I stated, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

  She looked taken back. “What about Devon?”

  “I don’t know; you’ve never talked about him before. Why have you kept him hidden?” I questioned, half-serious.

  She laughed and shook her head. “I didn’t keep him hidden, I just didn’t want him to know what I was doing.”

  I could understand where she was coming from. I never shared any of my past either. For the first time since I met her, I wanted to know her secrets and maybe a part of me wanted her to know mine.

  “Why is that?” I cocked my head in the mirror, wondering if she would be honest with me.

  “Well, for one thing, Madam was adamant about our friends and families not knowing what we did.”

  I finished applying my lipstick and turned to face her. “Okay… so tell me about him now?” I bluntly asked.

  She nervously chuckled. “Devon is really not your type, he’s not like other men. He’s probably one of the last nice guys left on this earth. Who would never be okay with his girlfriend being a VIP.”

  Interesting…

  A part of her had to know that this would only provoke me more. I wanted what I couldn’t have and the chase made it all the more fun. She was a VIP. She knew the rules.

  “Bella, I’m not talking about dating him, I’m talking about fucking him. Is he amazing?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  My eyes widened. “You’ve never slept with him?”

  “No.”

  There weren’t many things in the world that could shock me, I had seen and experienced it all. But this… was earth shattering.

  “Oh… huh… why?” I replied confused.

  “Because, he’s my best friend and a brother to me.”

  I frowned. “I thought I was your best friend?” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  She grinned and rolled her eyes. “Okay…he’s my best guy friend. Better?”

  I smiled. “Much. How would you feel if I took him for a ride? Literally. I mean, didn’t you say he just got done with a divorce or something? I would totally take one for the team, help him to relieve some sexual tension; trust me, he’s backed up.”

  She jerked back and I hadn’t expected that. We shared everything, including men. Sometimes women. I’m not going to lie and say it didn’t bother me that she wanted to keep him for herself… but not as much as it made me wet, to know that he hadn’t been touched by another VIP.

  That was like finding a needle in a haystack.

  I thought about her and Sebastian… I often wondered what made her give everything up for him; he was a married man and she was the other woman. I experienced this scenario way too much in one lifetime.

  Although, he did give up everything for her, too. I contemplated if that was the secret behind it all…

  Did she want Sebastian, because he wasn’t tainted with VIP?

  He was only hers; he’d never been with another VIP.

  “Ummm… yeah, I guess,” she answered, taking me away from my thoughts.

  Her voice was different and I knew it wasn’t from jealously… she loved Sebastian.

  It was from caution.

  She knew what it was like being a VIP. We made men fall in love with us, not because we wanted to.

  But because we could.

  I was the illusion.

  I was the dream.

  It was a game.

  A game I wanted to play…

  With Devon.

  I danced on him all night and I could feel his hard cock the entire time. He wanted me… maybe even more than I wanted him. We exchanged goodbyes with Ysabelle and Sebastian and as they walked away, I looked over at Devon; backing away from him toward the direction of my condo.

  “Aren’t you going to walk me home? I mean a girl like me could get into a lot of trouble on these streets.”

  He chuckled. “For some reason I think you could hold your own.”

  I smiled. “Walk me home anyway.”

  He nodded, stepping toward me. I turned knowing he was following, and purposely swayed my ass even more.

  He cleared his throat and I internally giggled.

  “How far down do you live?” he asked.

  “A couple blocks.”

  “Don’t your feet hurt? I don’t understand how you can even walk in those heels. They look painful.”

  I looked back at him, laughing. “Let me tell you a little secret… they’re called, ‘Fuck me heels’ for a reason.” I kissed the air before looking back in front of me. He quickly caught up with me and we walked side-by-side for a few seconds.

  “You don’t ever stop, do you?” His tone of voice definitely caught me off guard.

  “Excuse me?”

  “This act,” he explained, pointing back and forth between us.

  “This act?” I repeated with raised eyebrows, looking over at him.

  He caught my stare and we locked eyes. “Yeah. This act.”

  I laughed so hard that my head fell back. “No wonder Ysabelle loves you. You really are a nice guy. Wow,” I breathed out. “I haven’t met a nice guy in a really long time, Devon. I didn’t even know you guys still existed.” And for some reason Landon’s face appeared in my mind and I swiftly brushed it away.

  “You mean you don’t meet nice guys doing what you do?”

  “Doing what I do? Oh, come on… Devon, I’m a big girl, you can say the word.”

  “VIPing… you don’t meet nice guys VIPing?”

  I inadvertently smiled. It was sweet that he wouldn’t call me what I truly was. It warmed my heart a little bit, but I quickly brushed that away, too.

  I shook my head. “I do. However, it’s usually an act.”

  “How do you know I’m not acting?” he responded, still looking at me.

  I peeked up at him through my lashes. “Because you’re no good at it.”

  He smirked and fuck did it look sexy on him. Devon was devastatingly handsome and I knew he had no problem getting pussy. His tan skin and chocolate brown eyes would make panties drop; he didn’t even have to open his mouth.

  “You think you can read me that well, huh?”

  I nodded. “I’d like to think so. I think Ysabelle told me you run a bar on South Beach… The Cove? Right?”

  He nodded still grinning, but now it was from being amused.

  “You work all the time and I know that because the bouncer didn’t recognize you. So, that tells me even though you could pull rank, you don’t. You’re a workaholic… but it works for
you. It’s where you get pussy. It’s thrown at you constantly; you don’t even have to try.” I paused to let my words sink in. “Here’s your loophole, Mr. Hill, you let them stay the night. You probably even cuddle with them. Not because you might want to fuck in the middle of the night like most men would. It’s because you don’t want them to feel used, even though you probably won’t ever call them again. You come from a loving family, no father… You said you grew up with sisters and a mother. Which is why you’re such a nice guy. You never stood a chance… but…” I hesitated, not knowing if I wanted to say the rest. “You have secrets. The only reason I can tell, is from the way you’re looking at me right now. You’re terrified I can see them.” I raised an eyebrow. “So… how warm am I?”

  He immediately looked away, not answering my question. Not wanting to look at me anymore. We continued to walk in silence for a while. I was beginning to think that I overstepped my boundaries, and pissed him off.

  “You know, Bambi, I’m really good at reading people too,” he spoke; looking straight ahead, almost like it pained him to look at me.

  “Try me,” I baited.

  “You asked for it,” he warned in the same tone he had used earlier. “You grew up spoiled. Probably had everything you ever wanted; provided by mommy and daddy, of course. I’d say you come from money; a lot of money. So, this lifestyle you lead now doesn’t surprise you in the least. You’re not in it for the money or seeing the world, like Ysabelle described it to me. You’re a VIP, because you’re lost. You’re so lost you can’t even see straight. So you play this VIP part exceptionally well, not because you love it… it’s because you hide. I think you’ve been doing that for a very long time. No one knows you…” He stopped walking and grabbed my arm. I looked up at him with a concentrated stare. “Especially you.”

  I roughly pulled my arm away and smiled high. Neither one of us said anything for what felt like hours. I couldn’t take the silence any longer, so I turned and walked away from him.