Tempting BAD: VIP Spin Off (29 page)

“Fuck yourself hard and take your other hand and rub it back and forth on your bright, pink clit, that’s just waiting to be touched.”

I did as I was told and moaned louder.

“I’m going to come, I’m going to come…” I repeated over and over. “Devon… Devon… Devon…” I breathed out and he made this sound from deep in the back of his throat, which made me open my eyes. I watched with a hooded gaze as his dick exploded all over his stomach. It was the most erotic, passionate experience to come at the same time and we didn’t even touch each other.

We both lay there, panting and breathing rapidly. I placed my hand over my heart to try to steady the beating.

“That was random,” I announced, laughing.

“Not exactly what I had in mind, but I’m not complaining.”

“You know we’re doing this all backward.”

“I like to break the rules, keeps things interesting.”

“I see that.”

“So what next?”

“What do you mean?”

“When do I get to see you again?”

My eyebrows lowered and I bit at my cheek. “I go back to work tomorrow, Devon.”

He was quiet for what seemed like hours and I waited for him to say something… anything; I was on pins and needles.

“How often do you work?” he finally spoke.

“I usually get a few days off a month.”

“Wow, that much?”

“No sleep for the wicked…” I teased to no avail.

“When is your next day off?”

“In a few weeks. It’s not like I get a schedule ahead of time,” I simply stated.

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t,” I argued. “I told you, Devon, this is what I do… and I love it. If we’re going to be frie—”

“Goodnight, Bambi. We will talk soon,” he interrupted not wanting to hear anymore.

I nodded. “Good night.”

He hung up and it ended our call. I looked all around my room and for the first time since I started VIP, I wished someone were lying beside me.

Not someone…

Devon.

Three weeks went by and he texted me good morning and good night every day. He always asked me if I made it home okay and wanted to make sure that I had the door locked. I kept insisting that I had security guards, but he insisted it didn’t matter.  In the morning he wanted to know how I slept and if I was ready for the day. At first I thought he was doing it to be cute and a nice guy, but after the first week or so, I knew he did it because he was genuinely concerned that I was safe.

I also subconsciously knew that he wanted to be the last thing I thought about when I went to sleep, and the first thing I thought about when I woke up. And it was working; he was consuming my thoughts. I started looking forward to waking up to his text messages, and laying my head on my pillow to his good nights. He always texted late enough that I was already home. I knew it was partially from him knowing that I would be home late, and the other part was from him working late as well.

I missed him.

I missed him, a lot.

Our text messages sometimes turned into phone conversations that would go late into the night. We would Skype occasionally and we usually talked about nothing in particular; even though he asked about everything. I hadn’t disclosed any more information about myself, since the night I told him about my father. I still didn’t know why I shared that with him, other than I wanted him to know a part of me.

I thought he would run and maybe I did it as a test…

He passed with flying colors, as always.

It was late by the time I got home from being with a client. He was a partier and we had gone to an underground rave. I had taken some old school ecstasy, not this new shit called Molly; which was way different and didn’t last nearly as long. I was still zooming by the time I got back to my condo. It was near five in the morning, and I had yet to receive my nightly text message. I grew anxious. Nervous. I don’t know what came over me, but I took a shower, changed, and jumped into a cab.

By the time I made it to his bar the last few people were walking out. I didn’t see him when I walked in, so I asked one of his bartenders where he was. He told me he was in the back, in his office. I knocked on his office door and heard him say, “Come in.”

I opened the door and he didn’t look up from his paperwork.

“You didn’t text me good night,” I blurted, the drugs making it easy for me to do so.

His eyebrows rose before he glanced up at me, confused and stunned that I was standing in front of him.

“I didn’t get a text message and I got worried.”

He raised an eyebrow, questioning my appearance. “Are you fucked up?”

I laughed.

“Did you drive here?”

Always the nice guy…

“No, I took a cab.”

“What are you on? And don’t say nothing… your eyes are so dilated I can barely see the blue.”

I shrugged. “I was with a client and he wanted to have a good time, so I had a good time with him. Is that a problem?” I challenged. He was ruining my happy, euphoric state and this wasn’t what I wanted.

“Why are you here?”

“I missed you,” I sincerely stated.

“Is that you or the drugs talking?”

“Me… the drugs just help,” I simply said. 

He leaned back in his chair, placing his hand over his mouth and rubbing back and forth, examining me in a way I had never seen before.

“I thought you would be happy to see me,” I added.

“I am. Don’t twist my words.”

“You’re not acting like it.”

“I’ve just had a really shitty night.”

“Is that why you didn’t text me?”

He nodded.

“What happened?”

“Chris—” he hesitated. “My ex-wife, she showed up here and it went from bad to ugly real quick.”

“What did she want?”

“It doesn’t matter. Stop biting your cheek,” he ordered in a voice I hadn’t ever heard before.

See, here’s the thing about ecstasy… it heightens your senses. Touch, sounds, sights, feelings, emotions; you’re wrapped up in them. Not being able to break free, until the chemicals have stopped working their magic. That’s the beauty of the drug, you love everything and anything, and the happiness you feel is addicting.

Devon was different than I had ever seen him before. I could feel it, see it, and even fucking taste it.

“Does she want to get back together with you?” I asked, wanting to know the answer.

“I said it doesn’t matter,” he barked.

I jerked back. “This was a bad idea.” I turned to leave.

“Stop,” he ordered, making me turn to face him again. “Come here.”

I didn’t know what to do; I just stared at him. His hair was disheveled, like he had been pulling at it. His eyes were dark, daunting, and menacing.

“I said come here.”

I took a deep breath and a tentative step in his direction, stopping when I was standing in front of his desk.

“Here. Brooke. Come. Here,” he ordered again in a dominant tone.

He didn’t ever call me by my name; I rounded the corner and stayed perfectly in place in front of him. He narrowed his eyes at my body, taking me in completely. Even the way he admired me was different, nice guy Devon wasn’t here at all. I didn’t recognize this man… not even a little bit.

And that
excited
me more than anything.

The second I saw Brooke walk into my office I knew I was fucked. It was the last thing I needed to add to an extremely fucked up night. Christine came by and she was wasted, she had left our son with her parents and had been drinking. She was doing that a lot more lately, and I knew in the past she said alcohol and drugs had been an issue for her.

She said it was my fault… that I had done that to her. She said she still loved me and wanted to make it work. That we had a child and he needed both his parents, she talked about my nightmares and how I needed to get help. I tried to calm her down and reason with her, but it was useless. I was finally able to get her into a cab and called her brother to make sure she got home okay. Landon was a good guy and he knew what his sister was like.

I wanted to talk to Brooke; I wanted to text her and go to her place. I missed her terribly. All I wanted to do was hold her. Then, as if on cue, she walked into my office… all fucked up, too. It was one thing after another. I knew she had been with clients and that’s why I wasn’t seeing her. But I hated it. It pissed me off just thinking about it.

She looked fucking gorgeous with her hair flowing loosely around her face. Her eyes looked alive and vibrant, as if they were animated and thriving in my direction. She was wearing heels and a black coat. I don’t know what came over me, but I wanted to punish her.

I wanted to hurt her, and that
terrified
me more than anything.

She was inches away from me, and I could smell her arousal; she was turned on. I roughly grabbed her by her waist and placed her on my desk, never getting up from my office chair. I leaned back and took a second to look at her. To really appreciate the beauty that is Brooke. Her face was flushed. Her eyes were more dilated, if that was even possible.

She was a fucking vision. I was addicted to her; our time together was never enough, and even when we were together… I wanted more.

I rubbed my first two fingers on my lips, contemplating what to do next. I knew what I wanted to do, and as much as I tried to talk myself out of it…

I couldn’t.

The urge was too powerful.

Too consuming.

I leaned forward and untied her jacket; it easily fell open. She sat there in nothing, but heels and an opened coat. My dick was so hard; it was on the verge of pain.

I wanted her so fucking bad.

It was tempting bad…

“I forgot to put on clothes,” she joked to herself.

There was nothing funny about the situation. Not even a little bit. I looked up at her and she stared down at me. She had this tantalizing stare, that she must have shared with other men. It made my blood boil; my mood became dark, it heighten and strengthen.

She wasn’t mine. Never was. Bambi was gone.

All that was left…

Sitting before me.

Was…

VIP.

“Did you fuck him?” I snickered.

Her eyebrows lowered in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Did. You. Fuck. Him? It’s a simple question… did he touch your pussy? Or did you suck his dick? What was on the itinerary for tonight?”

Her eyes widened, hurt, the image would be embedded in my mind, but I didn’t care. “How many men have you fucked these last three weeks? Do you even remember?” I sneered.

She moved to step down and I immediately spread her legs open and placed myself in between, holding onto her waist and locking her into place.

“What the fuck?” she yelled.

“I didn’t say you could leave.”

“I don’t remember asking for permission,” she violently spewed.

“Answer the question. Did you fuck him tonight?”

“No.” She narrowed her eyes at me and pursed her lips. 

I cocked my head to the side. “No?”

She shook hers. “He was too fucked up, he took too much and couldn’t get hard.”

I nodded. “I see… is that why you came here? Huh? Get your happy ending? Is that all I am to you? Your fuck buddy, friend?”