Read A Million Dirty Secrets Online

Authors: C. L. Parker

Tags: #Contemporary

A Million Dirty Secrets (17 page)

I felt like a dirty old man paying for pussy. Oh, my God, I’d paid for pussy.

“Why not just order me to suck you off?” I could always depend on Delaine’s sassy attitude to pull me out of my funk and set me back on track. “After all, you did pay an awful lot of money for me to make you feel good.”

I smirked. “Because I think you’re starting to like my cock in your mouth a little too much.”

She reached across the space between us and slapped me. Hard.

Finally we were getting somewhere.

I grabbed her wrist and yanked her into my lap, turning her over to lie across my legs, with all the rounded, creamy glory of her bare ass staring me in the face.

“Obviously you forgot your place in this relationship, Delaine, and you must now be punished like the little brat that you are.” I raised my hand and brought it down hard on her pert ass. A red palm imprint grew across her flawless skin and I felt my balls draw up tight. I’d fucking branded her, and damned if that didn’t turn me on.

She was mine.

She jerked in my hold and tried to scramble away, but I slapped her ass again, reveling in the way it bounced with a slight jiggle.

“You bastard! Let me go!” she screamed, her face red with anger.

“Tut, tut,” I reprimanded her. “Name-calling is another no-no, naughty girl.”

I smacked her ass again, harder this time, and then rubbed my hand over the pink wheal that was beginning to rise as a result. She flailed her legs, inadvertently spreading them wide and giving me a fantastic view of her sweet pussy. I angled my wrist and smacked her bare lips next. Once, twice, three times. And my little naughty girl moaned.

“You like that, huh?” I asked in that husky voice I happened to know she couldn’t resist.

I smacked her ass again when she didn’t answer. Afterward I leaned forward and caressed the mark with my tongue to ease the sting of pain. While doing so, I gave the folds between her legs a gentler slap, feeling and hearing the wetness that had developed there. I moved the pads of my fingers in a circular motion, earning another moan that she dragged out between clenched teeth.

Three wet fingers slapped at her opening in rapid succession before two dipped inside.

“Unf …” She wiggled in my lap.

“Be still!” I ordered her, and then removed my fingers, spanking her ass hard again.

She yelped in response, but stilled her movements as ordered. That deserved a reward, so I slipped my fingers back between her slick folds and massaged her clit before dragging her wetness up and between the cheeks of her ass and circling her other opening. When I applied a slight pressure there, she rolled her hips, pushing back into me.

To say she was receptive to my touch there would be an understatement. I bit down on my lip, barely able to contain my excitement, because I knew I was definitely going to slide my cock into her pretty little ass.

“You want me to make you come, don’t you?”

“No. I hate you.” And then she moaned, the sound a total contradiction to the words she spoke.

“Do you?” I asked with a devilish smirk.

I gently patted her pussy again, making sure I hit her swollen clit. She lifted her ass into the air, trying to angle herself so that she could reap more of the benefit on that little bundle of nerves. I gave her what she wanted, but when I felt her body tense, signaling her impending orgasm, I stopped and gave her ass one last, hard slap. Before she could even register what was happening, I lifted her and sat her back down in the seat across from me. She was panting pretty damn hard, her chest heaving, as she dropped her chin and looked at me. Anger flashed in her eyes, which only amused me.

I felt the car stop and knew we had arrived at our destination. I still hadn’t been able to get off, but we were out of time and it would have to wait. No matter; I happened to know the shop had private dressing areas, and I knew one of the saleswomen personally. She was a real hellcat in the sack, very eager to please and willing to try anything once, or even five times.

I tucked my dick away in my pants and leaned across the space between us. Cupping Delaine’s chin in my hand, I forced her to look at me even though she was trying to pull out of my grasp.

“For future reference, slapping me only turns me on. And judging from the way that pretty little kitty purred when I spanked you, I think it’s safe to say the rough stuff turns you on, too. I’ll have to remember that.”

I bent to kiss her and she curled her lips in, denying me. I
tugged on her chin and gave her a stern look. “Kiss me, or I’ll take all your lovely new clothes away again and make you walk around the house naked for the next two years.”

“Polly will just—”

I cut her off in midsentence and claimed her mouth with mine. That must have pissed her off because she bit down hard on my lip. A low growl echoed from my chest, but I continued and shoved my tongue through her parted lips. She pushed on my chest as I smothered her cries of protest, ignoring her attempts to get free.

I finally released her and gave her a cocky smile. “I told you, I like the rough stuff. You can pull your skirt down now.”

She looked down at her lap and tugged on the minuscule piece of cotton just as I tapped on the window and Samuel opened the door for us. “Le Petit Boudoir,” I said in a flawless French accent as I stepped from the car. “Come, Delaine. Let’s shop.”

She huffed and climbed out of the car to join me on the sidewalk. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

I turned to face her, fed up. “You know, you might be a little appreciative of the things I do for you. You knew what you were getting into when you signed up for this gig. So it makes no sense to me whatsoever that you feel like you constantly have to cop an attitude with me. I’m not exactly mistreating you. In fact, I think you’ve been treated pretty fairly, better than most other women in the same situation.”

“Yeah, well, I highly doubt you’ll find many other women in the same situation, Mr. Crawford, so you don’t really have any evidence to validate that statement.” She swung around,
her ponytail smacking me in the face as she stalked past me. “You fucked my mouth, you threw away my clothes, you made me greet you at the door just to give you head, and you took my virginity. So you’ll have to excuse me if I’m not exactly compelled to apologize for hurting your feelings.”

I noticed she didn’t mention the ass spanking I’d just given her.

She reached the door and swung it open a little harder than necessary. Without even looking back at me, she stepped inside and disappeared from sight.

“Yeah? Well, you liked every minute of it!” I yelled after her, but of course she didn’t hear me. However, the half dozen or so people walking by on the sidewalk did.

I was Noah motherfucking Crawford, Chicago’s most eligible bachelor, and she made me look like some psychotic lunatic shouting at thin air. I looked back at the car just in time to see Samuel trying to conceal his smile.

“I’m glad this is entertaining you. Wait here. We won’t be long,” I snapped, and then followed after Delaine.

My eyes scanned the shop in search of her, and I found her rummaging through some of the undergarments in the center of the room.

“Noah Crawford,” a sultry Latin voice cooed from behind me.

Delaine looked up right as a pair of hands encircled my waist from behind and warm breath trickled over my skin. “I’ve missed you, lover. Where have you been hiding?” Fernanda whispered in my ear.

I turned my head to the side and gave her my best smile,
never taking my eyes off Delaine because her reaction was too priceless, comical even. The lift of her brow and the way she defiantly raised her chin exposed her jealousy.

Well, now, this could get interesting.

“Fernanda,” I acknowledged my onetime mistress as I turned and gave her cheek a lingering kiss. “How have you been?”

“Lonely,” she said with a pout.

I thumbed the pout and then stroked her cheek. “Aw, a beautiful woman like you? Lonely? I find that very hard to believe.”

Delaine cleared her throat, and when I looked up at her, she tossed her head to the side and continued to browse, acting as if she hadn’t been paying attention to the interaction. She wasn’t fooling anyone.

I took Fernanda by the hand and walked her toward my girl. “I’d like to introduce you to someone. Fernanda, this is Delaine. Delaine, meet the very voluptuous Fernanda.”

I threw that in there on purpose. But she really was voluptuous: long legs, jet-black shiny hair, full lips, and a figure that made grown men cry. Le Petit Boudoir was just a little side job. Her main income came from nude modeling for various prominent magazines aimed at refined gentlemen.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Delaine,” Fernanda said with a pleasant smile as she offered her hand in greeting.

Delaine looked at me and then back to Fernanda before she finally shook her hand. “You too.” Her words were curt and her tone sharp enough to cut glass.

“So,” Fernanda said, retracting her hand and sliding it
around my arm while pressing her other hand to my chest possessively. “Are you treating the lovely lady today?”

Delaine narrowed her eyes, focused on the familiar way in which Fernanda touched me.

I gave Fernanda a flirtatious smile to further taunt Delaine’s little green-eyed monster. “As a matter of fact, I am. Do you have a private room available?”

“Anything and everything I have is available to you, Noah Crawford. You know that.” She laughed and tossed her long hair over her shoulder enticingly before leading me toward the back.

Delaine was left to trail behind us, and I had to hide my smirk. Payback was a bitch, and she was seething with jealous rage. I could feel it rippling off her like heat off a desert highway.

We were escorted into a private dressing room. Three of the four walls were covered in mirrors, and there was a smaller room for the lady to change into different outfits before coming out and modeling for whomever she brought along for the show. Two racks of the top-selling lingerie were stationed in one corner beside a minibar. In the opposite corner there was a red velvet-covered bench. Fernanda led me to the center of the room and sat me down in an oversized armchair that was in the perfect position to see everything.

Delaine sat on the bench seat with her arms crossed over her chest. “Pick something that you like and try it on,” I told her, motioning toward the rack of garments.

“Noah, I don’t think—” she started.

Fernanda cut her off. Of course she sensed the tension and
wanted to help out. “You know what? You look like my size. Why don’t I pick something out for you? I know what he likes.”

Delaine’s claws shot out like she was the daughter of Wolverine. Or it seemed that way to me, anyway; I might have been seeing things. Without waiting for an answer, Fernanda left the room to go back into the shop. Delaine turned on me immediately, not even bothering to lower her voice.

“Did you fuck her?”

“Does it matter?” I stood and walked over to the bar to pour myself a drink.

“Yes, it matters.”

“Why? Are you jealous? Because I fucked you, too, and you get the benefit of a whole hell of a lot more fucking than she ever got. Does that make you feel better?” I took a sip of the scotch I’d poured for myself.

“You’re disgusting!” she huffed, and then turned away from me again.

“I’m insatiable. Big difference.”

“Why did you even need to spend millions of dollars on me when Little Miss Cuchi Cuchi Charo was willing to make
anything and everything
available to you?” she asked, mocking Fernanda’s accent. It was kind of cute.

“Charo is from Spain. Fernanda is Argentinean,” I corrected her. “And while Fernanda is quite pleasing to the eye, a lot of eyes have been pleased by her.” I winked and tilted my glass toward her. “It wouldn’t work between her and me in public. But she’s cool. She understands.”

She started to say something in response, but Fernanda
came back in and started hanging garments up in the smaller dressing area. “I picked out a few things I thought would really accentuate your figure.”

“Go ahead, Delaine,” I said, taking my seat again. “Show me.”

She sat there, stubborn and unmoving. Fernanda looked at her and then back at me in question.

I shrugged. “She’s shy.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay. I can model them for you, if you want.”

God bless Fernanda and her eagerness to please. This couldn’t have turned out better if I’d planned it.

“You know, I think that’s a fantastic idea, Fernanda,” Delaine spoke up. Her voice was hard and sarcastic as she stood up with a huff. “I’m sure Noah would prefer to see you in them, anyway. In fact, let me give you two some privacy.” She turned on me and narrowed her eyes. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

With that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Did I do something wrong?” Fernanda asked.

“No, it wasn’t you,” I assured her. “Just wrap up whatever you picked out and charge it to my account. I’ll take it all,” I said as I stood. “It was good to see you again, Fernanda.”

“You too, Noah.” She hugged me close and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll have them delivered first thing in the morning. Go get the girl, sweetie.”

I nodded my thanks and headed for the car. When I got inside, Lanie was sitting with her arms crossed over her chest
and her face turned to look out the window. “Home, Samuel,” I directed him before he closed my door.

“You mind telling me what all that was about?” I asked Delaine.

She whipped her head around and glared at me. “In the future, if you want to go visit one of your old girlfriends to get your freak on, please have the decency not to make me go along. I’m not into that.”

“She’s not an old girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend, plaything … same difference.” She studied my face and then shook her head before turning away. “You might want to wipe that hooker red lipstick off your cheek.”

I swiped at the side of my face and looked at my hand. Sure enough, Fernanda’s lipstick was smeared on my fingertips.

“Look, I didn’t bring you there so that I could get my freak on with an old girlfriend. Although I’d be perfectly within my rights to do so, if I wanted. The contract states you can’t be with any other men. It says nothing at all about me.”

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