Tempting BAD: VIP Spin Off (48 page)

BOOK: Tempting BAD: VIP Spin Off
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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 sea 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.

“Do you want to come?” Marc demanded once again.

“Yes…” I surrendered. I could feel everyone smiling around me, the heat off their composures, radiating against my skin.

“Beg. Fucking beg for it,” he ordered in the same commanding tone.

Something much harder slapped against my ass, and I begged to come. I pleaded until come was dripping out of me, and my body was trembling with aftershocks of my intense climax.

“Good girl,” he praised.

I didn’t have time to recover, I was shoved onto my hands and knees, and the crop smacked my ass yet again. They wanted me to crawl to my owner for the night. Once I felt his slacks against my face, I rubbed my cheeks and lips up and down, all around his cock. Exactly how they wanted me to.

He was rock hard; I could smell his potent pheromones and arousal for me.

Only me.

I heard the unbuckling of a belt, and then his dick was smacked against my face; I immediately opened my mouth.

“Stick out your tongue.”

I did and I was rewarded with pre-come that I licked off the head of his cock. He thrusted forward an inch, and I sucked his dick into my mouth, making sure to create a tight suction. He quickly removed it, and spit fell down the sides of my face, which was urgently licked off by someone else. I assumed it was another VIP. When she was done, the crop smacked my ass again, and I knew they wanted me to crawl up his body.

I made sure that my breasts, stomach, and pussy touched from his calves, to his thighs, stopping for a second when they reached his dick. I gently and tortuously sat myself on his lap. His shaft placed between my folds. I rolled my hips in a front to back motion, my wetness making it easy to do so. The blindfold also made it easy to stay in my own mind, lost among the serenity, harmony, and drug of the music.

I felt hands all over me once again; touching my breasts and gripping my thighs, making me dry fuck him harder and faster. I could feel myself about to come, and my head fell back onto a body that was waiting.

I heavily panted, my breasts heaving up and down, to greedy hands that touched me all over; kneading crudely. My body would be red all over. My mouth opened and just as I was about to come, they lifted me up and slammed me down onto his cock. In one swift thrust, he was fully inside me.

I screamed out in pleasure.

They didn’t allow me a chance to catch my bearings; roughly and urgently moving me up and down, front to back, side-to-side. I was theirs to do whatever they pleased.

Whatever they wanted.

That’s what they were paying for.

VIP.

Soft fingers touched my clit, and I knew it was a woman; she played me like a piano of her favorite lullaby. I didn’t know how many ravenous hands were on me. They had this insatiable thirst to control my orgasm and me. I gladly let them have it. I handed it over to them with a bright red fucking bow; keeping my eyes tightly shut under the blindfold that allowed me to pretend that I wasn’t really there.

They arched my back further and I lay on someone’s shoulder, I think. This angle was much deeper, and hit my g-spot effortlessly. Hands slammed me up and down onto his cock. I could hear the ruthlessness of our private parts slapping together, and me wanting to come undone. They held my arms behind my back, holding me in place and not letting me move.

My jaw dropped, and a tongue plunged into my mouth. I sucked on it, the overstimulation being abundant and overwhelming.

“Ah!” I cried out on the verge of falling over, but they didn’t let up. They only made me fuck him harder, mercilessly, and with no remorse. I clamped down onto his cock and they kept me firm in place, not letting me move as he pounded into me. Hands reached around to grab my hips.

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