Dirty Games: A BWWM Romance (6 page)

She twisted her hair and looked sheepishly at the tips of her shoes, last night’s clothes hanging loose on her.

“It… um. I’m glad I have the week off, because I think I will spend most of it recovering.”

Wes beamed brightly at her. “That’s awesome.”

Rose looked away, clearly a little bit uncomfortable, not only physically. “Wes, uh… how… how well do you know Brent?”

Wes caught something in her tone, and he moved from where he was restocking the bar to guide Rose toward one of the booths.

“Not so well, but as well as anyone, I guess,” he said, sliding on the padded bench and biting his cheek not to smile as Rose very slowly and carefully edged her way in, grimacing all the way through.

“I just… I never…” she stuttered and broke off. “I mean. Okay. It’s just… I don’t know what the etiquette for this sort of things is. I mean, what do I do now?”

Wes blinked. “Well, whatever you want?”

“Oh.”

There was something missing. Damn it, where was Zenobia when Wes needed her? She was the sensitive one and could handle this situation so much better than him.

“Do you want to see him again?”

“Yes! I mean…I don’t. Or, I do, but… I don’t know if he wants to.”

Wes rubbed one hand over the back of his neck. “Brent isn’t famous for doing relationships,” he said, as gently as he could. “Did you guys talk about it last night?”

“We… um. We fell asleep, and this morning…” she started to say as she blushed deep red and bit her lower lip, eyes skating downwards.

“What?”

“We… um… we kinda didn’t talk because we did it again, and then he was late.”

Wes blinked. “Uh… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“We… did it again. Uh. And then he was late. So we didn’t really…”

Wes didn’t listen in to the rest of the sentence because his brain was still stuck on the “morning” part, trying to process the fact that Brent had stayed the night.

“Wait, wait. You mean you woke up and he was still there?”

“Yes,” Rose bit her lip. “That a bad thing?”

In all honesty, Wes didn’t know what to tell her.

“I guess you need to talk to him about it.”

“How?”

“Rosie, for one, this is your job, so you are bound to see him again—”

“That’s the thing, too. What if this was only a one-time thing and he just… doesn’t want to see me ever again?” she asked in a rush.

Wes shook his head with a barely suppressed grin.

“I don’t really know if that’s the case, hon. But there’s one way to find out,” he answered as she looked expectantly at him. “Just come back tonight and find out.”

****

Rose picked out a short dress from her closet that she’d never worn before, and just bought on a whim after last winter’s sale. It was dark blue, lower cut than she was used to, and covered in sequins. She paired it with her most basic black heels and some gold jewelry. She must have checked herself in the mirror at least eleven times before heading out the door.

She called a cab because she just couldn’t think about walking all the way to work without her back seizing up in protest. Come to think of it, she didn’t even know if she would be able to be fucked again. She was still quite sore and pulsing from the activities of the previous night, but if there was even the smallest chance that Brent was going to be there, she would take the risk.

Brent was there, of course. As he had been almost every other night for the past few years, and Rose’s stomach tightened, butterflies batting their wings wildly as he walked toward the bar. Brent turned even before Rose managed to make her presence known, and his eyes immediately darkened, a slow, sensual smile spreading on his face.

“If you can walk here on your own it means I didn’t do my job right,” he whispered in Rose’s ear.

Rose shivered, looking up at him with what she hoped were sultry, inviting eyes.

“I have the whole week off,” she whispered, her voice higher than she had intended, probably out of nerves. “Maybe you can… I mean, we can… you…”

Brent’s hand slipped over the small of her back and tugged her against his chest.

“As long, as hard as you like, pretty,” he muttered, the tip of his tongue tracing the outer curve of Rose’s ear.

She shuddered and closed her eyes, her pussy suddenly aching in earnest at the mere sound of Brent’s voice.

It wasn’t a special night. There was no Speed Dating, nor were there any keys being passed around, but Rose suspected Brent had a golden guest key or something similar, because she was immediately steered toward the staircase to the upper level.

That’s how it began. That night, Rose went down on her knees and did things with her mouth that would’ve made a seasoned sailor blush. She couldn’t really handle another wild fucking like the previous night, so Brent had her lie out on the bed and suck on three different dildos before he had gone on to fuck her mouth with abandon and come all over her face.

With Brent, Rose discovered that she came harder when she was being called names, when Brent’s sexy lips spilled all sorts of obscenities in her ears, when she was tied down, her ass in the air and ready for a spanking. It was as though Brent had opened something inside of Rose that she never thought she possessed, and it made her heart beat faster and her stomach clench only thinking about it. Zenobia had warned her, too, against getting too attached to Brent, but by that point, for Rose it was like a drug.

Every Friday for Blind Date night, she had her night off, and she would meet Brent in the upstairs bedroom that she had begun to consider theirs—however dangerous that line of thought might have been. Brent had taught her what a safe word was, and how to use it, but so far Rose had never needed it. Brent knew exactly what Rose liked, and wanted, and he knew just how to give it to her. One day, without needing to be asked, she finally began taking regular birth control. Shortly after that, they started to forgo condoms. It felt nice, as though they were in a real relationship and not just a string of one-night stands that just wouldn’t go away.

It wasn’t until after six months after the first time, when Rose caught a spectacularly bad cold that nailed her in bed for over ten days, making her miss not one, but two blind dates. She acknowledged to herself that she’d fallen in love with Brent, for some inexplicable reason that went far beyond sex. And somehow, she couldn’t help hoping that maybe, in some corner of Brent’s mind he felt the exact same way.

She bounced back after a week on antibiotics, and was behind the bar when Brent walked into the club. Zenobia gave her a fond, if exasperated shake of her head when Rose quickly pretended to be absorbed with work, where Wes merely winked at her and began shaking a margarita for Brent.

“Hey there,” Brent said, his voice low and raspy as usual, slouching in his stool, his whole body leaning toward Rose.

“Hmm? Oh, hi,” Rose said, her confidence a little higher now, but still feeling that incredible pull at her stomach whenever Brent was around, which made her overcompensate.

“How are you?”

“How are you, I should say. They told me you were on your deathbed.”

Rose snorted. “I had a cold, that’s all.”

She looked sideways at where Wes was pretending really hard to not be listening, and blushed.

“Uh, how are you doing, then?”

“I’m good, if lonely.”

“Oh?”

“Hmm-hmm,” Brent nodded. “What time do you get off?”

“Err… at three, I think?”

Brent smirked and slid the key across the bar to her, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “Meet you upstairs.”

Rose stared after him, clutching at the key in her hand as her heart did cartwheels. The next three hours would be the longest of her life.

Chapter 7

Brent chuckled and pushed his thumb back inside Rose, teasing the flesh that was now feeling sore after being so thoroughly fucked. He quickly pulled it out and ran it over her swollen nub, getting another long, drawn-out moan from her before bouncing from the bed over to the cabinets.

“Brent,” Rose begged, strung out and boneless on the bed, her pussy dripping onto the sheets, wrists bound behind her head and  legs bound back against her chest with a black, silk scarf, completely exposed to Brent’s will.

So far she’d come twice, once while Brent ate her out and the other while he fucked her from behind, her wrists straining against her bounds. Brent was perusing the cabinet of toys, gloriously naked, his hard cock curled up against his stomach in a testament to perfection. The collection of toys was updated every other week, and Rose knew there were dozens they hadn’t yet tried, anticipation making her stomach clench. There were dildos of all shapes and sizes, some brightly colored, others naturally hued. Many other toys were in there as well—vibrators, anal beads, nipple clamps. The whole deal.

Rose licked her lips and tried to struggle against the scarf, wanting to find some way to get some much-needed friction. Brent turned around and smirked, crawling up the bed again, stroking his dick a couple of times, lazily collecting pre-cum that he went to smear across Rose’s pretty pink lips.

“So eager, my good little slut. I’ll give you what you want, trust me.”

Rose mewled and whimpered, her eyes half open as she watched Brent laid the items he’d picked on the bed by her side. There was a vibrator, something smooth and slim, and a dildo, thick, ridged and heavy, that guaranteed to leave her hobbling for a week.

“Patience, dear,” he whispered, caressing Rose’s calf. “I promise you’re going to see stars.”

Rose whined softly at the back of her throat, sucking hungrily at Brent’s come-covered fingertips. Brent took a moment just to drink in the breathtaking beauty that was on display before him, open and needy, long limbs and smooth curves that led to a perfect face. He bowed over her and pressed a quiet kiss onto her panting mouth, soft, unhurried, his tongue gently probing her, slipping past his bruised lips to tangle with hers, tasting the bitter, salty aftertaste of his own cum on her tongue.

“Beautiful,” Brent whispered when he pulled away, sticky fingers trailing down Rose’s breast, “So fucking beautiful.”

Slowly, carefully, Brent snapped the nipple clamps on, his tongue following to lick at the pink, hard nubs peeking from between the hard silver. Rose whimpered and bucked up again, or as much as she could in her restraints.

“Choose, darling,” Brent murmured, picking up both the vibrator and the dildo and tracing them down Rose’s breasts, to her hips and the groove of her thighs. She groaned, her eyes rolling back in her head as the thick head of the dildo teased her swollen entrance.

“Easy things first, maybe?”

Brent watched as she gasped and squirmed around the width, trying to get used to it, trying to force it deeper inside of her pussy.

“Yes,” Rose moaned, voice high-pitched and needy, “God, yes. More, please.”

Brent dipped his head to kiss at the sweat pooling in between Rose’s breasts, his forearm draped over the slight curve where his spine met his ass to prevent him from rolling back. It was intoxicating, knowing that he could just stay there and watch, watch his fill, stare at Rose’s quivering body and hear her moan and beg until her voice was reduced to incoherent mumbling.

“You look so fuckin’ beautiful, spread out like this,” Brent mumbled into her skin. “At my mercy.”

She moaned and tried to push up, but he was holding her down, preventing any movement.

“Always” she moaned, her thighs trembling with the strain.

Brent bit his lower lip, the statement making his breath catch in his throat curiously.

“Shh.”

Brent’s lips licked a swathe from her belly button all the way up to her chin, biting her lower lip once. He kept rolling the dildo in a circular motion, but wouldn’t feed Rose an inch more of what she already had inside.

“So good,” he murmured, kissing the damp hair at her nape. “Your pussy was made for this,” Brent whispered in her ear, pulling the dildo out and then back in again a few times, making Rose thrashed and scream.

“You’re just so wet and waiting to be filled. I bet I could drive this thing as deep as it goes, and still you’d be wanting more…”