Tempting Bad

by M. Robinson

  “Brooke…”

  “Please… for me.” I urged.

  “All right. I’ll book the next flight out.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have the jet come get you. It should be there by tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  “And Bella?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you coming alone?” I don’t know what possessed me to ask that, but I did.

  She hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Okay, I love you.”

  “I’ll see you soon,” she said and ended the call.

  I put down my phone and hugged Madam. “I don’t know what I would have done, if I would have lost you. Oh my God, I have never been so scared,” I honestly spoke. I wanted to tell her what was going on, but it wasn’t about me. It was about her. She didn’t need anything else on her plate.

  “It’s all right, darling, I will be fine. It will take some time, but I will be better than before; you will see. Everything will fall into place. I promise.”

  We both turned when the door was roughly pushed open. A man with long blonde hair that was pulled back into a ponytail, rushed in. I had seen him a few times before, mostly at parties and sometimes in Madam’s office. I never spoke to him; I think his name was Mika. He was older, but fuck he was sexy. The intensity of his stare at Madam made me come unglued and nervous.

  I stared at him, confused and then back at Madam, by the look on her face she was as surprised as I was.

  “I’ll leave you two alone. I will be right outside,” I announced, walking out of the room, and shutting the door behind me to give them privacy.

  It took everything in me to not call Devon. I wanted to so desperately just to hear his voice, to have a shoulder to lean on. We hadn’t spoke since the day he ran out of my condo. I sat in the waiting room, and my head fell back against the headrest.

  I closed my eyes and tried not to think about it. I focused on the fact that Ysabelle was coming home.

  Back to VIP.

  I saw Ysabelle’s face light up my cellphone screen. “Hey, Kid,” I answered, placing my phone on my shoulder and angling my head to hold it. “What’s up?” I asked, looking over the liquor shipment.

  “I’m here.”

  I looked around the bar. “Come again?”

  “I’m in Miami.”

  “Okay… is Sebastian with you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “No.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Sitting outside your bar in one of Madam’s cars.”

  I awkwardly laughed. “Are you going to come inside?”

  “Okay.”

  I heard the sound of the call ending, and a few seconds later she walked in. I hadn’t seen her dressed like that in years. She looked like Brooke; she looked like a VIP. Straight hair displayed all over her face, heels sky high, tight jeans, and an off the shoulder blouse. The outfit probably cost more than my mortgage. No longer the carefree island girl with crazy curly hair, running wild and free.

  “Do you want a drink?” I asked as she sat on the stool in front of the bar.

  “Water,” she simply stated.

  I grabbed a glass, sprayed some water in it and handed it to her.

  “Are you okay?”

  She shrugged, still looking in front of her in a complete daze.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I have not a fucking clue.”

  I nodded. “Kid…”

  Her eyes met mine.

  “Start from the beginning.”

  She chuckled. “Devon, if I knew where the beginning was, I would gladly tell you. Madam got assaulted and she’s in the hospital. I’ve been here a little over a week. I came back to help Brooke, but I also left Sebastian. I don’t know which side is up or down anymore.”

  “You’re not like working, working, right?” I blurted.

  “Of course not. I’m just helping run the business side of things. I’m not a VIP. I have no desire to become one again either.

  “Does Sebastian know that? And does he know you’re here?”

  She raised her eyebrows, reminiscing. “Oh yeah. That didn’t go so well. He showed up at The Cathouse. It was bad, but he knows I’m only here to help. I need a break… you know? I just need some space. Everything is so intense; too intense. I went from my piece of shit mother; to you, to VIP, to Sebastian, back to VIP, and then back to Sebastian. I never thought he would come to me, not after how we ended things with our fucked up affair. But there he was… almost two years later on my island. For me. And now one year later… here I am. At VIP.” She took a deep breath, contemplating what to say next.

  “I never thought I would be back here, Devon. The day I walked out, I never looked back. Now I’m here, and it feels like home. How the fuck does that make any sense?”

  I thought about Brooke. VIP had a hold on both of them, and I didn’t understand why.

  “I love him, Devon. I love him so much. I’m never going to be Julia, his ex-wife. They have a child. She was perfect. She is perfect. I don’t think I want to get married, and with the genes I have running through me. What if I’m just like my mother? I would never bring a child into that.” She laid her head on her arms that were on the bar.

  I rubbed her head, not knowing what else to do. “Kid…”

  She turned her head to the side to peek up at me.

  “You’re going to be okay. I know you will. Sometimes it takes for us to get lost until we can find our way.”

  “You sound like a fortune cookie.”

  I smiled. “How’s everything else?”

  “Madam is… well, Madam. She wants me to take over, like indefinitely. Brooke is… I don’t fucking know.”

  I lowered my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s being weird, evasive. I feel like she’s hiding something from me. I know it hurts her that Madam wouldn’t offer VIP to her. I don’t really understand why she would offer it to me. I’ve always had a special place in whatever she calls a heart, but so has Brooke. It’s a very confusing time for all of us,” she half-joked.

  I cleared my throat. “So… Brooke, hasn’t said anything to you, about anything?” I casually asked.

  “We don’t really talk about stuff like that. I know she’s confused and hurting… I just assume it’s from Madam being in the hospital and almost losing her; then her offering me VIP. I know Brooke wants it; she’s been there forever. She knows what she’s doing, too. I’m helping where I can, but she knows her shit.”

  “Yeah,” was all I could say.

  “She’s sad though. I can tell. The crazy thing about Brooke and I, Devon, is that we don’t know much about each other. I shared with her a little bit of my past, and she shut down on me. We went to Vegas instead.”

  “What did you do there?” I asked, thinking about the mansion she took me to for New Year’s Eve.

  “Watched her get fucked up and babysat.”

  I nodded, not being able to hear anymore.

  “Anyways… thanks for listening. I don’t know what I would do without you,” she acknowledged, reaching for my hand.

  “Good thing you never have to find out.”

  “Yeah… how many VIPs does he need?” I asked Madam on the phone.

  “He said six, but he’s also requested you as well,” she replied in a neutral tone.

  “I haven’t really been playing, Madam, running things takes a lot more time than I would have premeditated.”

  “I understand, darling, however, Marc has been with VIP for a long time. He’s important, and so is his business. I don’t want to let him down.”

  I understood her subtle, yet persuasive order. “Then I won’t let him down.”

  I could sense her smiling on the other end. “I knew you wouldn’t. I told him he could have my condo for the night. There will be about twenty of them. They love to watch…”

  “Then I will make sure that they get a hell of a show.”

 
“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me. Have a great time, Brooke baby.”

  “Always.” I hung up, looking out Madam’s office window, which overlooked all the front grounds.

  I thought about everything; Devon, Sebastian, and Ysabelle, my parents, Madam, and VIP. It was a juggling act in my mind; each thought scrambled the other and moved about quickly, as I tried to maneuver one at a time without dropping any of them.

  One thought barely ended, before the other began. If Sebastian and Ysabelle couldn’t make it work, then what was left for the rest of us… they were devoted to each other; almost annoyingly so. I loved visiting and watching them together, it sometimes gave me hope in moments of despair. Especially since I thought I never needed any to begin with.

  They were beautiful together, and I would be lying, if I didn’t say that I was shocked that she was back at The Cathouse. Ysabelle didn’t belong there, she never did. She wasn’t like me. No one was. That’s why it hurt so much when Madam offered her VIP. I felt like I took a knife to the heart. The same heart Devon had stolen, and had yet given back.

  I did the only thing I knew to be true. I poured myself into VIP, running it with Ysabelle by my side, for the last week or so. She didn’t know as much as me, but Madam never trained her… again, I didn’t understand. Although I didn’t question it, Madam did things her own way, and it wouldn’t matter if I had. I marched in line, exactly how I always did.

  One day turned into two, two days turned into one week, which then turned into weeks. I hadn’t spoken or seen Devon in two weeks, but it may have been closer to three. Everything blended together. As much as I tried not to think about him, I subconsciously looked at my phone every night and every morning… waiting for the text messages that never came.

  I did the only thing that came natural. I drenched myself into VIP. At the end of the day, it’s all I had.

  It’s who I was.

  The night of the orgy fiesta was here. I got dressed in a sequined, lacy red bra and matching panty set. The garter belt was snapped perfectly into place, and my heels were sky high. I looked at myself in the mirror; the VIP staring back at me was stunning and picture-perfect; she was flawless. The illusion so eloquently portrayed. I leaned forward and did a line of cocaine, which was already spread out ready to be inhaled.

  I rubbed my fingers over my nose and sniffed in the powder that would take away my pain.

  Numb me.

  Make me complete.

  I never thought that I would lose more than just myself that night.

  I would lose my whole world, and the only man I believed meant it when he said…

  I love you.

  I had spent the last few weeks obsessing over Brooke. I checked my phone every night, and every morning, resisted the uncontrollable urge to text her. I found myself typing in the words, and then deleting them before I could click send. I drowned myself in work and Ethan. Christine tried to talk to me about it, but I blew her off every time.

  My sisters and mother were the same way. I pretended like I didn’t know, or understand what they were talking about; even though I knew my emotions were displayed on my sleeves for everyone to see. Which is exactly why I avoided mirrors, or more than a few minutes to let my mind wander.

  I had Ethan on the floor playing with his cars, while I packed his overnight bag. My mom had been begging me to keep him over night for the last few weeks.

  I crouched down to his level. “You ready, buddy, Grammy is excited to see you.”

  “Vroom, vroom, vroom,” he related, sliding his toy car all over the floor.

  “That’s right, buddy, vroom,” I repeated.

  He looked up at me and shook his head. “No!” he shouted. “Vroom, vroom,” he accented. “Brooke vroom, Brooke vroom!”

  My eyes widened.

  He sat up and started rolling the car everywhere, saying Brooke vroom over and over again.

  “I love Brooke vroom, I love Brooke vroom,” he yelled, laughing.

  I placed my hand over my mouth in shock. I didn’t even think that Ethan would recognize that she wasn’t around anymore. She had bought him a couple car sets and it quickly became their thing. I picked him up and placed him on my hip.

  “You love Brooke vroom, buddy?”

  He happily nodded.

  “I love Brooke vroom, too. Let me see if I can do something about that.” I kissed his head and drove him to my mom’s.

  I was fucked up.

  Drunk, high, I couldn’t even tell anymore. I enjoyed the music that carried all around me, in a calming and tranquil lull.

  “You’re such a gorgeous fucking girl,” Marc whispered into the side of my face, leaning me on to the balcony that overlooked downtown Miami.

  I giggled and laid my head back, enjoying the sensations of his lips all over my neck. The breeze made it feel as if I were free, flying, and I carelessly flew in it. Enjoying the rapture of the wind, taking me up and down.

  “You love when I touch you, don’t you, baby,” he murmured, trailing his tongue along my cleavage and collarbone.

  “Hmmm…” I moaned, drowning in an ocean of waves, not caring if I came up for air or needed to breathe. I let it overtake me. I wanted to hide in the blissful euphoria of nothing. My heart thumping so recklessly with abandon, that it stirred me in ways that I never imagined possible. It was as if someone was running down the halls, and it echoed off the walls.

  “Your skin is so soft, and your smell is addicting. I love the way you feel when you’re riding my cock, begging for more.”

  I sucked in my lip and rolled my head forward to look deep into his eyes.

  They weren’t chocolate brown.

  And for a moment it made me sad. They were green and dilated, mirroring mine I was sure. I got close to his lips and laid lazy kisses on the corner, not being able to meet his gaze any longer.

  “I want to see you dance for me, and then I want you to fuck me in the room full of people. I want you to be the center of attention. I want all greedy eyes on you, beauty… every last one of them. I want their cocks hard, and your pussy dripping wet,” he spoke with his whiskey breath that made me think of someone else.

  I shook my head, removing the thoughts before they had a chance to make their way into my pores. I didn’t want Devon breathing life in me. I didn’t deserve it. Not now.

  Maybe not ever.

  “I’ll do whatever you want,” I replied in a low sultry tone.

  He grinned into my mouth. “As I knew you would. That’s what makes you so fucking perfect. No one is like you, beauty, not even close. I want those men to wish they were me…”

  I licked his top lip with the tip of my tongue, brushing it across the smooth surface. “Lead the way.”

  He grabbed my hand, and I followed him into the living room that was dim, candles were lit everywhere. The translucent lighting made it appear as if I were floating in a cloud of nothing, but lust and desire. People were scattered around the couch, some were already fucking, while others just waited.

  For me.

  Marc sat himself in the center of the white leather couch, placing his hands on the back of the settee, and spreading his legs. Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven breathed through the speakers. I felt it in my veins, pumping my blood in a weightless pulse and pattern.

  A blindfold was tightly placed over my eyes, and I enjoyed the lure of seduction that waited. My mind and body scrambled and knotted the music in separate distinctive pieces, converging it into a stream of strokes that were so altered, but vivid, colorful, and bright together. I could see and feel the abstraction and familiarity all around me.

  I untied my red silk robe. It slowly fell down my shoulders, my arms, and glided down the rest of my body, to pool at my heels. I let the gentle lure of the music guide my movements, the drugs and alcohol that flowed through my system, made it easy to do so. Easy to get lost in the melody that I was creating for all to see.

  I was there, but I wasn’t.

  I danced around in a s
ea of emptiness and longing, it moved around me easily, carelessly, harshly.

  It was all and it was nothing.

  It made me full and it made me empty.

  It pleased me and it dismayed me.

  I didn’t care. I was there to do a job. To be a VIP. I played my part beautifully, just as I always did. Letting myself get taken away on empty promises of nothing, but somehow seemed like everything.

  I took off the rest of my lingerie. My body swayed to the progression of the music, not missing a beat. Soon my bra and panties were on the floor next to my robe. The heels stayed on, they always stayed on.

  It was a rehearsed routine. One I refined through the years. I was on a stage performing, like one of those ballerinas in a jewelry box; turning in circles with nowhere to go, but too lovely to stop. You found yourself twisting the silver knob at the back of the box, before the music stopped playing, and the illusion was gone.

  Rough and callused hands touched me everywhere, from my neck to my shoulders, and down my arms, to my legs. When one touched my mound, I purred like the perfect pussy would. They lowered me onto my knees and held my arms securely at my back; I couldn’t move unless they allowed it. A soft, flat instrument trailed from my neck, down to my pussy, taking its time on the way down; awakening nerve-endings with its gentle glide. It slapped against my folds, making me spread my legs further apart. That’s when I realized it was a riding crop.

  They slapped it against my clit a few times till my body surrendered, and all the will to fight was gone. Not that I had any to begin with. Fingers soothed the sensitive nub, and it had me withering against their touch.

  “Do you want to come?” I heard Marc taunt.

  When I didn’t answer, the crop smacked against my stomach, and then my breast. See, this was a game… they didn’t want me to answer. They wanted to fuck with me, and they knew I was well aware of what was expected of me. Fingers pushed into my opening, angling it directly toward my g-spot, and my mouth parted.