Tempting Bad

by M. Robinson

  Who the fuck does he think he is?

  “Bambi—”

  “Brooke!” I yelled, turning around to face him. “Brooke, Devon, my name is Brooke.”

  He looked apprehensive and regretful. “Listen… I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to offend you. I thought—”

  “You didn’t offend me. Don’t apologize.” I smiled. “You don’t even know me, baby. You can’t hurt someone, unless they let you.”

  I had no idea how we went from flirty banter and sexual tension, to this heated conversation. Her demeanor was strong and confident, but her eyes gave her away… Bambi was indeed fragile and she was hurt by what I said to her. It wasn’t my intention.

  “Let’s start over, Bambi,” I said purposely reaching over and pulling the hair out of her face. I desperately wanted to see her hair pulled back and away from her façade. She was like a deer in headlights; like a fawn scared of the world.

  But she had a beautiful face, and those penetrating eyes.

  She narrowed her eyes at me, contemplating what to do. I could read her internal struggle that she so badly wanted to hide. She didn’t understand what I was doing to her, and that was okay because I didn’t understand it either. All I knew was that I wanted to know her.

  To really know her.

  I wanted us to learn together.

  How absurd is that? I just met her…

  It’s as if she could read my mind… And just like that her eyes glazed over and it was gone. She wasn’t Bambi anymore.

  She was a VIP.

  I looked deep into her piercing blue eyes that hid her dark elusive secrets.

  “I know all about hiding,” I murmured so close to her mouth that I could taste her if I wanted to. “I perfected it,” I admitted. I had never shared that with anyone, and I could tell that she knew that.

  She didn’t take her stare away from mine, studying me like I was some lab rat on a table. I wanted to read her thoughts and know what she was thinking, but her mind ran rapid. All I could see was chaos and turmoil behind her baby blues.

  She grabbed my hand and brought it to her mouth. She ran the tips of my fingers against her pouty red lips; it was the most seductive gesture any woman had ever done to me. Her tongue peeked out and she slowly licked her lips, barely touching my fingers.

  She glanced up at me through her eyelashes, and her gaze was sinful. Her eyes were dark blue and dilated; the color changing as fast as her mood.

  “You have no idea who you are fucking with, Devon. Are you sure you still want to play?” she whispered.

  I blinked and she was gone. She didn’t even give me a chance to reply. She walked in front of me and I followed for a few more blocks.

  She didn’t want to hear my answer…

  She was scared it was going to be no.

  But she was petrified that it was going to be yes.

  The guard greeted her with a nod and we took a private elevator to the penthouse floor. The elevator doors opened to a lavish living space that had bay windows all across the back walls of the suite; it overlooked all of South Beach. This place must have cost a fortune. There was white elegant furniture perfectly placed everywhere, and a piano sat in the corner of the room.

  She walked toward the bar that was on the other side of the room.

  “What’s your poison?” she hollered.

  “What do you have?”

  “Everything,” she simply stated.

  “I’ll take a whiskey neat.”

  I looked around the room and although it was classy and refined, it didn’t feel homey. It felt cold and detached. I made my way over to stand in front of the bay window. The view was breathtaking.

  It was then that I realized this wasn’t a place to sleep.

  It was a place to fuck.

  “This isn’t your home, is it?”

  “No,” she stated in my ear, behind me.

  “I see.”

  “It’s Madam’s.”

  “Where do you live?”

  She handed me my drink and took hers down in one gulp, placing the empty glass on the table. She moved to stand in front of me and leaned against the bay window. The lighting made her look like an angel.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she stated, reaching up unclasping her hair. It flowed loosely down and she shook it out, making it fall right in front of her face. I knew she did it on purpose.

  Hiding.

  I let her have her security.

  For now.

  “I thought you wanted to play, Devon?”

  I laughed. “Bambi, I couldn’t afford you,” I blurted without thinking. Her eyes widened with a mixture of hurt and confusion, but just like before, it was gone before it even fully appeared.

  “What if I don’t want you to pay?” she offered surprised by her own words.

  “Does it work like that? Kinda like a drug dealer, huh? Give the first sample for free and have me coming back for more?” I teased, trying to break the intensity of our stares.

  Now it was her turn to laugh. “Something like that. So are you going to take me up on my offer?”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “The time of your life.”

  “Sounds tempting. Except I don’t want to fuck a VIP.”

  She raised an eyebrow intrigued, but also cautious.

  “I don’t want to be just another client. You can be whoever you want with everyone else… with me… you’re Brooke Stevens. My Bambi. And I’m Devon Hill.”

  “What’s in it for me?” she mocked, throwing my words right back at me.

  I finished my drink and placed it next to hers on the table and walked over to her. Her chest was rising and lifting with every step I took. She was turned on as much as she was petrified.

  I stopped when I was mere inches away from her face, and immediately pushed all her hair aside. I could tell it made her uncomfortable, and though it was a small insignificant gesture to anyone else, to her it was huge. She let me grab the clasp from her hand and I tied her hair back; completely away from her face.

  She sucked in her bottom lip from nervousness and the tension I was creating, by making her not be able to hide from me.

  “You’re so goddamn beautiful,” I praised, trying to ease her trepidation.

  “What do you want, Devon? What do you want from me?” she questioned anxiously.

  “I thought we were playing a game,” I said, using her words against her.

  “Is that what this is? A game?” she paused. “Who’s the cat and who’s the mouse?” she grinned and I wanted to bite her bottom lip. “I do have a pussy, so…” she taunted, trying to lighten the intensity of our stares.

  My hand was still in her hair. I moved it to the nook of her neck and roughly pulled it back.

  “Fuck,” she inherently moaned, making my cock hard. “You may control your pussy and pleasure with other men—”

  “And women,” she goaded.

  “And women…” I repeated, trying not to show her how much that one sentence affected my head; not the one on my shoulders. “I know you make men and women fucking beg for it… but in my bedroom.” I moved my mouth to her ear and she shivered. “When you’re in my arms and I’m holding you, touching you, fucking you…” I groaned and I could feel her breath elevate. “You will be the one begging, Bambi. I’ll give you whatever you want… you just have to say the magic word.” I let my words linger and by the look on her face, they were causing the effect that I desired them to.

  I gently pressed my lips right beneath her earlobe. “Do you understand me?” I kissed, moving my way down. “Now tell me, Bambi, what do you want? Ask nicely...” I taunted, waiting and silently praying she gave me what I so desperately needed to hear.

  She tried to pull her head forward and away from my grasp, not wanting the emotions I was making her feel, I was sure. I coarsely pulled her hair back further placing her where I wanted, right up against the window. Where she couldn’t move and I could control her arousal.

  Her skin
was red and warm. I could see her nipples harden through her dress. She wanted to say the words, but she was too stubborn, too guarded. This was a power struggle—an exchange of some sort that I wasn’t going to lose. I kissed my way down to the side of her neck, right along the edge where I knew it drove women crazy. She closed her eyes, not wanting me to see the lust and yearning that was pouring out of them.

  “My, oh my, Bambi,” I taunted, gliding my free hand up and down her thigh; each time going a little higher toward her pussy.

  “Are you wet?” I could feel her rapid pulse against my lips; I slowly and tortuously rubbed the tips of my fingers against her labia. She was soft and very smooth, her moisture spreading fast; I hadn’t even touched her clit or folds.

  “Do you want me to touch you here?” I lightly slapped her clit and her knees buckled, but she didn’t make a sound, nor did she open her eyes.

  Tough little kitten… let me make you purr.

  I nudged her clit with the palm of my hand and purposely rubbed up and down, while pushing my middle and ring fingers into her tight, warm, cunt a little more each time.

  “Fuck me… you’re soaking wet… does it excite you to finally have a man who challenges you? Hmm… Bambi, I won't have you walk all over me... you play by my rules or we don’t play at all,” I warned.

  She finally started panting when my hand moved faster.

  “Fuck me,” she moaned.

  I smiled and bit her neck.

  “Damn it…” she whispered loud enough for me to hear.

  “That’s not the word I want to hear, answer me, Bambi, and I’ll give you what you want.”

  “Yes…” she breathed out.

  “Open your eyes...” she groaned in protest and I shoved my fingers inside her, right to the spot that had her biting her lip and spreading her legs further.

  “You like that? Huh? You like it when I fuck you with my fingers?”

  “Yes… harder… faster…” She withered.

  “Your pussy is pulsating and getting so fucking tight? God, I wish that was my cock.” I kissed along her jawline. “Open your eyes. I want to see those beautiful eyes staring at me, as I give you pleasure and the release you want.”

  I spoke with conviction. “I want to watch you come.” I slowed down my assault on her g-spot and she immediately opened her eyes.

  “You greedy, little girl.”

  We locked eyes and it was the most breathtaking view I had ever witnessed. Her guard was completely down and she looked satisfied… riding out the ecstasy I was causing. Her mind had stopped spinning with answers to questions she could never ask, but so badly wanted to know.

  In that moment, I realized why she was a VIP. It’s because she didn’t have to hide anymore. She was free from the secrets that she held so deeply in her heart. And it only made me want to know her more.

  I wanted all of her.

  I had just met her and in that second, having her literally coming apart in front of my very own eyes… I saw what my family and friends talked about when they said they met, “The one.”

  This girl was going to be the death of me. And I didn’t fucking care…

  One bit.

  Her pussy clamped down and her eyes rolled to the back of her head, as she cried out my fucking name.

  It’s not what I wanted…

  But it was a start.

  I rode the high as long as possible, I didn’t want to surface back to reality. The emotions were spilling out of me, one right after the other and I couldn’t control them. I was literally letting this man into my mind and that was much deeper than letting him into my heart.

  I wanted to scream.

  I wanted to cry.

  And especially wanted to run.

  To hide.

  It was the moment of truth for me. When the orgasm subsided and reality set back in, it was a cold, brutal cunt that I wanted to punch in the fucking face. My senses went from being high and euphoric, to being drenched in freezing cold water.

  And then he grinned, he fucking grinned at me, he knew. He knew it all and I wanted to punch him in the face, too. I pulled away from him and slid down my dress, walking directly toward the bar. I was over there in seven strides with him right on my heels.

  “You want another drink?” I asked. I wanted it to seem like he hadn’t affected me. Like he hadn’t seen through me, as oppose to at me.

  “I’d love one,” he answered, not letting on what I knew he was thinking.

  I made us both a drink, handed him his first. I drank mine down and poured myself another, before he finished taking his first sip.

  “It’s okay, Bambi,” he stated in a sincere tone I didn’t want to hear.

  “What’s okay?” I asked, playing it off and not looking at him. It didn’t matter that he could see right through me anyway. I don’t know why I kept pretending like he couldn’t.

  “You’re gorgeous when you come, but you probably already know that.”

  This made me look at him, just as he wanted me to.

  How the fuck could he control me this much? What the hell was going on with me?

  “Keep them coming back for more, it’s my job,” I informed, wanting to make him feel like he was just another client.

  But he wasn’t and he knew that too.

  How the hell did the words, “not pay” come out of my mouth?

  I had been paid for sex for the last ten years…

  He nodded, letting me have my security and comfort.

  Jesus Christ… he really was a nice guy.

  “Do you want a tour of the penthouse?” I questioned, wanting to break this unconformable hold he had over me.

  “Is that your way of asking me to come see the bedroom? Now who is the one wanting seconds?”

  I laughed I couldn’t help it.

  God… when was the last time someone made me truly laugh?

  “You’re a really nice guy, Devon; too nice. You have no idea who I am and what you’re dealing with,” I spoke the truth. I couldn’t help that either.

  I didn’t want to hurt him.

  I didn’t want to play this game.

  Not with him.

  I had done that before and I couldn’t do that again.

  Landon.

  “So now you’re making decisions for me?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll walk you out.” I passed right by him, not giving him the chance to object. He didn’t say one word as he followed me to the elevator; I pushed the button and silently prayed that it didn’t take long to open.

  “I want to see you again,” he informed.

  I looked right over at him. It was now or never. “Call Madam,” I smiled.

  His eyes widened and he jerked back, offended and hurt. “So… was that part of your plan? Give me taste and then have me pay for it? Is that how this works?”

  It was a fair question, but it didn’t stop from making me feel like a VIP.

  Get your shit together, Bambi. FUCK! Brooke… get your shit together, Brooke.

  “Does it really matter?” I challenged.

  He shook his head. “I guess not.”

  I nodded and the elevator opened. He stepped inside and I turned.

  “Bambi,” he yelled, making me stop, but not turn. “It was really nice meeting you. I hope you find whatever it is that you’re looking for.”

  I stood there until I heard the doors close and then I cleaned up and got the fuck out of there.

  Two weeks went by like a windy breeze. I went on more dates with clients and everything was back to normal.

  Or so I thought…

  “Take off your clothes I want you in nothing, but your bra, panties, and those heels,” Jimmy ordered.

  He was a new client, older but refined and handsome. We went to dinner and a show; he was a perfect gentlemen… catering to me all night, telling me how gorgeous I was, and how lucky he was to have me on his arm. Everything I wanted to hear. He spoke it perfectly and precisely like some orchestrated show. But it was a
n act; it was always an act. The second we stepped back into the room, he shut the door behind me and out came the piranha, always the same.

  I did as I was told…

  I seductively lifted my blouse over my head and threw it in his direction.

  I slowly unbuttoned my pencil skirt. Gradually moving it down, I made sure to turn around just at the right moment. To bend forward, so he could see my pussy from behind.

  I kicked my skirt over to him, then I let down my hair; erotically shaking it to fall directly over my face, exactly how they wanted me to.

  I cocked my head to the side and gave him my shameless fuck me eyes.

  The response always the same…

  Want…

  Need…

  Lust…

  “Turn for me.”

  I did.

  “Bend over.”

  I did.

  “Face me again.”

  I did.

  “Touch yourself.”

  “Where?” I simply stated.

  “Your tits; start there and work your way down. The bra and panties can come off, too. Give me a show.”

  I provokingly smiled. “No music?”

  He grinned, walked over to the dock and put on Closer, by Nine Inch Nails.

  Classy.

  The beat of the music came on and I effortlessly moved my hips. I pulled my hair up from the nook of my neck and swayed my hips faster. The lyrics came on. I gradually moved my hands from my hair to my neck, then to my breasts. Touching myself the way I wanted him to.

  He understood my silent plea.

  I slid the straps of my bra down my arms and leaned forward to unclasp it, making sure to grab it before it fell to the ground. I could see his hard cock from a mile away…

  He was big.

  I liked them big.

  Trent Reznor sang the chorus and my bra came down as I fondled my breasts, and worked my way down to my panties. I grabbed the edge of the straps and slightly brought one edge down; then the next.

  His eyes widened.

  Once my panties were past my ass cheeks, I sensually gyrated around, touched my toes and made my booty bounce, lowering myself onto the ground with the beat of the music. I teasingly removed my panties, one leg at a time and licked my lips.