Pretty Dirty Trick: A Rich Bitches Novel Page 21

  Lance

  The alarm on my phone goes off. I almost reach out, hit snooze, and ignore it until it goes off again like any other morning but this time feels different. I turn it off, leave it on my bedside table, and roll back over to wrap my arm around Trix as she stirs awake.

  “What time is it?” she asks, her eyes still closed.

  I press my mouth against her bare shoulder. “Six forty-five,” I say.

  “Gross,” she murmurs. “You get up early.”

  “I have to go to work,” I say, chuckling.

  “When do you have to be there?”

  “Nine.”

  She pries her eyes open. “What kind of freak gets up at six forty-five for a shift that starts at nine?”

  I guide her onto her back. “The kind who wakes up with you in his bed... and wants to go to work with a smile on his face.”

  Her lips curl. “Ohhh...”

  I kiss her softly as her hands rise to my waist. Her touch on my skin is firm yet warm and inviting. She shifts beneath me, opening her legs. I feel her inner thigh rub against my erection and it takes everything in me not to slide inside of her raw.

  “I want you,” I whisper, dropping my kiss to her neck.

  Trix hums beneath me as her hands slowly slide behind me. “I can tell,” she says, sitting up an inch.

  She reaches down to squeeze the flesh of my ass. I nibble her collarbone, wanting more. I put my hands on her, cupping her breasts and growing harder with each tiny moan that escapes her lips.

  “Trix,” I breathe, my cock throbbing.

  She kisses me on the mouth, softly sucking on my bottom lip as she quivers. “Use your hands on me,” she says.

  I shift my weight onto one arm as I inch my other between her legs. “Like this?” I ask, teasing her.

  “Yes.”

  I touch the edge of my fingertips along her inner thigh, slowly crawling toward her slit. “Like this...?”

  She laughs. “Uh-huh.”

  I kiss her again, splitting her focus. I stop my hand before I reach her warmth and a light, frustrated groan rises from her throat.

  “Lance,” she whispers with a moan.

  I chuckle, extending the moment a little longer before tracing the line of her pussy lips. I rest my index finger along the side of her swollen clit and she tenses in my arms, holding her breath as the first inkling of pleasure reaches her eyes. My cock twitches at the sight but I’ll give her what she wants first.

  I rub her slowly. She inhales a sharp breath, her hips bucking slightly against my hand.

  “Yes,” she says in my ear. “A little to the right.”

  I adjust and she nods.

  “Right there.” She bites her lip. “God, right there.”

  I smother her mouth with mine, tasting the moans on her tongue. “I love making you come,” I tell her. “Are you going to come for me again?”

  Trix instantly reacts to the words. Her back arches and I feel her toes curl around my ankle. “Don’t stop and I definitely will,” she says, chuckling.

  I flex my hand to maintain a steady rub. A little more of this watching her writhe and I just might finish myself...

  Her warm hand wraps around my cock under the covers. I look her in the eyes, clenching as she starts a quick stroke.

  “Come with me, Lance,” she says, our lips grazing. “Come on me.”

  I kiss her harder, saying yes with a groan. We keep eye contact, gazing into each other as our hands work beneath our waists.

  Trix trembles. “I’m so close.”

  Her voice alone makes my groin surge. A cramp twists my hand but I don’t dare stop. “Where do you want it?” I ask, breathing hard.

  “On my chest.”

  We kiss again, taking one more deep breath of each other before climax takes over. Her thighs shake and my balls tighten. Just a few more seconds...

  “I’m coming,” she says, pressing her mouth against mine to silence her moans.

  I push up, keeping my hand fixed on her pulsating clit as I lean over her. She points my cock where she wants it and I don’t hold back anymore. I come hard, biting my lip as she pumps my cum onto her heaving breasts.

  I reach for the headboard to keep myself up, feeling dizzy but satisfied. “Fuck,” I grunt as I admire the sight of her mewling with pleasure.

  Trix laughs between light, sharp breaths. “Fuck is right,” she says. She lets go of my cock and licks the edge of her fingers, cleaning them off.

  I collapse onto the bed beside her again, looking down at the lines of glistening sweat and semen on her chest as it rises and falls.

  “A man could get used to this,” I say.

  She turns her head, her bangs gently falling over her eyes. “It’s not bad for the lady, too, ya know.”

  I smile as I push the bangs back again, pausing to draw a curved line down her cheekbone. “You should stay here again tonight,” I say.

  “And tomorrow, you’ll want me to stay the night again. And then the next.” She smirks. “And the next.”

  “I like having you around.”

  “You like keeping an eye on me,” she says.

  “If one accomplishes the other, that’s fine with me.”

  Trix sits up on her elbows. “You’re still scared of Marcus, aren’t you?”

  “I am not scared of him. I’m scared for you. There’s a difference.”

  She smiles. “Lance, don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t live like this.”

  “Like what?” I ask.

  “I need space,” she says. “Room to move and stretch. To be in control of my surroundings. I can’t do that if you’re watching over me twenty-four seven.” She pats the bed. “And as nice as this is, I need a night or two in my own bed.”

  I look down. “All right. I get it. I just worry about you, that’s all.”

  She tilts her head. “And I appreciate that. A lot. This is all just very new and... scary for me.”

  “Scary?” I ask.

  Her eyes find mine again. “No one’s ever cared about me like this before,” she says. “It feels like...”

  I pause, waiting for her to find the words.

  “A fresh start,” she finally says. “I don’t want to screw it up.”

  I lay a hand on her cheek. “You won’t,” I say, leaning in. “If you need space, I’ll give you space. It’s okay.”

  I kiss her and her lips instantly purse against mine.

  “Thank you,” she says, closing her eyes.

  “And hey,” I say, caressing her cheek, “I don’t mind spending the night at your place sometimes. Just putting that out there. I understand that this house might feel a little... crowded.”

  She chuckles. “I might take you up on that one.”

  “Yeah?”

  “How about tomorrow night?” she says, kissing the edge of my mouth. “I still owe you a cooked meal.”

  “I definitely won’t say no to that.”

  “You can come over, bring a bottle of wine.” She smiles. “We’ll have dinner and then see what happens.”

  “I’m in,” I say, kissing her back.

  She eases closer, deepening our embrace. “Good...”

  I pull her in until I feel her little body pressed against mine.

  “Oops—” She leans back with a laugh and looks at my chest. “Forgot I was covered in... well, you know.”

  “I don’t care,” I say, wrapping my arm around her as my blood pumps south. “We’ll shower after.”

  Trix hums with delight. “Love a man who likes to get dirty.”

  I roll over onto my back and she sits up, straddling me. “Damn right,” I say, admiring her glistening tits as she leans over and grabs a condom off the bedside table.

  She tears the wrapper off and shifts back to roll it onto my stiff cock. “You’re so hard already...”

  “You’re surprised?” I rest my hands on her hips, holding her up. “You’re gorgeous.”

  “Ooo, say that again.”


  She aligns herself with me, easing down to penetrate herself. Her warm opening grips me as I slide inside.

  “You’re fucking gorgeous,” I say again.

  Her hips grind in careful circles, taking my cock over and over again. She lays her palms on my chest and holds herself up as she rides.

  I don’t move. I let her take what she wants, giving her full control — just like she said she wanted. She needs space. Room to stretch and move. I’ll respect that, no matter how much it makes my insides turn over.

  A fresh start. That’s exactly what this feels like, for me as well. I want to make this last but I wonder if that’s possible with her family still roaming free out there.

  “Oh, shit,” she says over me. “You feel so good...”

  I keep my hands on her, holding her up. “Don’t stop,” I say, bringing my attention back to her.

  Trix. My Trix.

  I’ll make sure they know that.

  Thirty-Six

  Lance

  Follow the crime rate.

  Seemed strange when I first read it but a day of research later, I realized that Max was definitely onto something.

  Chicago can be a dangerous place in a lot of ways but one neighborhood in particular stands out. The crime rate changed overnight in the mid-90s. What was once considered a very bad place to find yourself even in broad daylight is now a very thriving series of streets with popular internet businesses, daycare centers, and coffee shops — even a kink club, which also happens to be the longest-running business on the street, so that’s my first stop.

  This place used to be crawling with gang activity. I’d bet good money these businesses are part of Argento’s protection racket.

  I glance up at the wooden sign above a red doorway. The Red Brick Road. Truthfully, I’ve never heard of the place before. I’ve never had the time to get into kinky things and more tastes are more vanilla anyway, so I’m sort of nervous as to what I’ll find in here.

  I step inside and, for a moment, I wonder if I somehow entered the wrong place. Like a dentist’s office, perhaps. If it weren’t for the path of red bricks leading to another very large red door, I would be lost.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  I look at the desk in the corner. A middle-aged woman sits behind it with a mountain of paperwork scattered around her. She wears wire-rimmed glasses connected from a chain around her neck, along with a tight, padlocked choker digging into her throat, but otherwise, very normal-looking.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, stepping forward. “Are you Judith Barnes, by chance?”

  “Judy,” she says, raising a brow as she looks me up and down. “Are you a cop?”

  “No,” I answer with a smile, “just a lawyer.”

  “That’s worse.”

  I force a chuckle as I hand her my card. “Judy, I wondered if you’d answer a few questions for me.”

  She eyes the card for less than a second before tossing it on her desk. “About?”

  “Your business is the oldest on this street,” I begin. “You opened in ‘88, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you familiar with a man named Angelo Argento?”

  Judy raises her head slowly and slides her glasses off her nose. “Sure. Angie and I go way back.”

  I raise a brow. “Angie?”

  “Haven’t seen him in a while,” she says. “Heard he ran into some legal trouble.”

  “He did.”

  “Shame.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She shrugs. “It’s the same thing I always say when this town loses one of their own.”

  “Judy, it has come to the attention of the State’s Attorney that Mr. Argento has been extorting local businesses. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Can’t say I do.” She doesn’t even blink. “Is that all?”

  I step closer. “I understand that you might be hesitant to come forward but if you—”

  “Sounds like a problem for the police department,” she says. “What’s a lawyer like you getting involved for?”

  “It’s relevant to my current case,” I answer. “Mr. Argento has been a thorn in this city’s side for a long time. I want to help in any way I can.”

  “Were you born in Chicago, Mr. ...” she picks up my card to read it, “Lance Tyler?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Where are you from?” she asks.

  “San Francisco.”

  Her nose curls. “Where’d you go to law school?”

  “Harvard.”

  She snorts and flicks the card away again. “Fuck off.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I will not.” She stands up out of her chair. “Do you know what it’s like to live in fear, Mr. Tyler?”

  I blink. “I can’t say I do.”

  “I do. My neighbors and customers do. You’re not from around here but there was a time when this street wasn’t so easy to walk down. Close friends of mine were stabbed to death on the way to their cars just because the wrong person saw them walking out of here one night and decided they were trash. Drug wars, gang initiations. There was blood on the streets but the police didn’t care. The lawyers sure as hell did nothing.” She flexes his jaw. “But Angie did.”

  “Then you admit that Mr. Argento owns this neighborhood?”

  “And in exchange, we live without fear.” Her head tilts. “Small price to pay if you ask me.”

  “So, you’re content with paying a percentage of every dollar to a gangster?” I ask.

  “You’ll be lucky to find someone in this neighborhood who isn’t. Bad things happen here. It’s Chicago. But it was a whole lot worse twenty years ago and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna help some bushy-tailed Harvard brat take that away.” She crosses her arms. “Now, I’ll say it again and then I’m gonna get rude: Fuck off.”

  I inhale to argue but the large red door opens beside us. A man steps inside, tall and muscular, carrying several broken-down boxes beneath one arm.

  He pauses, his eyes bouncing between me and Judy. “Everything all right, Judy?” he asks.

  “I have it under control, Clive,” she says, still glaring at me. “Mr. Tyler here was just leaving.”

  I take a step back, giving the man a nod. “I’m sorry I bothered you, ma’am.”

  Judy lets out a soft, annoyed grunt as she sits down and turns back to her paperwork.

  I leave without looking back, quickly closing the door behind me as I step out onto the sidewalk. A cold chill passes by and I shove my hands into my pockets to stay warm. Dead end number one. Maybe one of these other businesses will be more helpful, unless her warning is true…

  “Let me guess...”

  I glance at the familiar, smug voice to my left and my anger spikes instantly.

  Marcus stands there with his hands in his coat pockets, one foot propped back on the wall. A small bandage sits on his cheek where Trix scratched him up. Looks bad, too.

  Good.

  He has the audacity to smile at me. “She told you to fuck off, right?” he asks.

  I keep walking but he juts off the wall to stand in front of me.

  “Mr. Donner,” I say, “I’m the last person you want to mess with right now.”

  He raises his hands in surrender. “And I’m not here to mess. I’m here to talk.”

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

  “Since this is more of a listening exercise, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

  I try to move around him but he steps in front of me again.

  “Trust me, Mr. Tyler, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “And if it were up to me, you’d be in jail,” I say.

  He nods. “To be honest, I’m surprised I’m not. But this isn’t about her. It’s about you.”

  “More thinly-veiled threats?” I ask.

  Marcus takes a few steps back and opens the door to the coffee shop next door. “Only one way to find out,” he says, gesturing inside. “Let me buy
you a cup of coffee. I’ll say my piece. And then you can go on with your day.”

  I hesitate but my curiosity wins out in the end. I step into the coffee shop and Marcus walks in behind me.

  “Take a seat,” he says, passing by me on his way to the counter.

  I exhale through gritted teeth. At least the place is well-populated. Don’t have to worry about getting whacked, I suppose.

  I find an empty booth in the corner and sit down. A few minutes later, Marcus returns with two black coffees and sits across from me. He settles in and takes a quick sip from his mug, staring at me the whole time. Strangely, he’s not looking at me with hate and annoyance like he usually does.

  He knows I’m on to something. This is respect.

  “So, how’s Judy?” he asks me.

  “She has a very high opinion of your employer,” I say.

  “Most people do.” He taps the edge of his mug. “Obviously, you stumbled on a private arrangement Mr. Argento has with some local business owners. I’m here to formally request that you leave it that way.”

  “Why would I do that?” I ask. “These people are being extorted.”

  “And you wanna be the superhero, do you?” He smirks. “The glowing fist of justice for all the poor, helpless victims?”

  “Your words, not mine.”

  He bobs his chin toward the windows. “Take a look outside. What do you see?”

  I glance outside, scanning the sidewalk. Parents walk by with smiling children carrying froyo cups and lattes. Not a single boarded up window or out of business sign. This place is thriving. No suspicious faces... or litter, now that I really look around.

  I say nothing.

  Marcus nods. “Do these people look like victims to you?”

  “Is that your defense?” I ask. “Crime is fine as long as everyone’s happy?”

  “No victim, no crime.” He shrugs a shoulder. “If a restaurant overcharges for a hamburger but the customer is full and satisfied, who loses?”

  “The customer.”

  “But if the customer is willing to pay for quality product, then what business is it of yours?” He takes another sip from his mug. “I understand where you’re coming from, Mr. Tyler. In fact, I admire your position, I really do, but you’re picking the wrong crusade here.”