Page 20 of Tempting Bad

I laughed so hard my head fell back into the pillow. “Wow… I was not expecting that one.”

“Just saying,” she giggled.

I wanted to hear more of that sound, so I tickled her and she started screaming, laughing, and kicking; moving around frantically.

“Stop! Oh my God, stop! I have to pee! You’re going to make me pee in my bed!”

I laughed louder and harder, my stomach hurt. I let up on her and she was able to pull away from my grasp and jumped off the bed.

“You’re an asshole! You almost made me pee myself!” she yelled, stomping off to go to the bathroom.

I held my stomach and I had calmed down by the time she came back. I smacked her ass as I made my way to the bathroom. When I walked out, she was laying on the bed looking through her phone.

“I used your toothbrush.”

Her face scrunched up. “Eww…”

I grinned, sitting at the edge of her bed and grabbed her legs to pull her my way. She squealed.

“Eww? Your come was dripping down my face last night. I think we’re way past coy.”

“That’s because you made that happen. I have no control over that.”

“I loved it. And don’t pretend you didn’t.”

“I have no complaints.” She shrugged her shoulders as I used my five o’clock shadow to tickle all along her neck.

“Stay still. Stop moving.”

“Then stop torturing me!” she half-yelled, half-smiled.

I finally pulled back and that’s when I noticed that my body was on top of hers. She picked up on it immediately and her eyes glazed over. I pulled her messy bedhead away from her face and kissed the tip of her nose. Just like I had the first night we met. She arched her neck to tease my lips and entice me to kiss her.

So I did.

It started off innocently enough, but it rapidly turned into something else entirely. Our hands started to roam everywhere, not deciding where we wanted to touch each other. When her tiny, delicate hand found my cock, she moaned.

I scooted her up toward the headboard as she stroked me up and down, her hand barely closing around my shaft. I leaned back and helped her take off her nightie. My mouth instantly went to her nipples and I sucked them until they were pebbled stones.

“Don’t stop,” she murmured, pulling down my boxers with her hands and then using her feet to push them down. I kicked them off when they were at my ankles. My hand found her pussy and she was already soaking wet.

“Fuck… you’re always so wet and ready.”

She smiled into my mouth. She grabbed the edge of her panties; I helped her take them off, going right back to rubbing her clit again.

“No, I want you. I want you, Devon, please.”

My mind was running frantic; this was not how I wanted our first time to be. “Bambi… not like this.” I kissed her neck and chin.

“Oh my God, I will kill you if you don’t stick your dick inside me. I’m not kidding.”

I chuckled. “Needy, little girl.”

“Please… please… please…” she shamelessly begged, knowing that they were the magic words.

“I need a condom. I don’t have one,” I groaned, placing my forehead on hers.

“Are you clean? Have you been tested?” she panted, looking into my eyes.

“Yes, but I’ve never gone without a rubber.”

“Oh.”

“I will. I will with you. Have you been tested?”

She nodded. “Of course, I get tested every three months; I just got one a few weeks ago. All the clients of VIP are tested before hand and I’m on the Depo-shot.”

“Bambi, I don’t want to talk about you fucking other men.”

“I’m sorry, I just want you to know. I’m safe. I want to be your first. Please… let me be.”

I smiled before claiming her lips and positioned myself at her entrance.

“Go slow, you’re fucking huge,” she stated, making me chuckle.

I grabbed her leg and angled it upward, bending her knee so that her foot rested on my ass. I hesitantly pushed in.

“Oh fuck…” she breathed out, keeping her eyes open even though they wanted to close.

“Jesus… you’re tight.”

She peeked up at me through her lashes. “Kegals.”

I laughed again. This was not what I imagined our first time would be like. I couldn’t help, but love the fact that we were laughing and it was amusing. As if we had been doing it for years. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable; how it usually was with women I had been with. Most of the time we were drunk, and I was taking them home from my bar.

“God, you feel fucking amazing. I haven’t felt another woman since my ex-wife.”

Her eyes widened and then she attacked me. She grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me with so much power and passion; I returned it tenfold. I thrust in, little by little, until I was fully inside her, stopping to enjoy and enrapture the wetness; the sensations of Brooke and only Brooke.

My mind was plaguing with thoughts that I tried to ignore, but couldn’t.

The feel of her.

The taste of her.

The smell of her.

Her.

Brooke…

Bambi…

Mine… I wanted her to be mine.

It was a shock to my core; my whole world came tumbling down, as I was engulfed with being inside her.

We were one.

I was hers, and she knew it. She had to.

Like a cold fucking shower, drenching me and making me shutter.

I was falling in love.

For the first time in my life.

I knew I had no business wanting to be his first; in anything. But I couldn’t fucking help myself. God help me, I didn’t care. I wanted him.

I wanted to claim him in any way that I could. I wanted to be so immersed in his body that I was the veins that pumped his blood, and the lungs that allowed him to breathe. I wanted to be the reason for his existence.

Me alone.

It wasn’t fair because I couldn’t return the sentiment, but Jesus Christ I wanted to. And I had no idea what that even meant. No idea how to make it happen. It was confusing, overwhelming, and all consuming. He was inside me, on top of me, and it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

I wanted more.

I needed more.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I went from feeling nothing, to feeling everything. It was liberating, powerful, and blinding. I was blind for him, so blind that I needed his guidance. He showed me the way. He showed me how to live again.

How can that be?

I was supposed to be living the day I became a VIP.

“Where are you?” he asked, kissing all over my face. “I know you’re not here; I can see you, but I can’t feel you. Don’t go. Stay with me, in this moment, in this time. Right here. Right now. Please…”

It was the first time I heard real desperation in his voice. I moved his face to look at him and we locked eyes. I saw my whole world in his stare.

I was falling in love with him.

I wanted to tell him, it was on the tip of my tongue, but I was scared, terrified, petrified, frightened; every synonym of the word.

Love.

I thought I hated love.

I thought I didn’t understand it.

I thought it wasn’t real.

I thought I wasn’t made like that.

I was wrong.

So fucking wrong…

Devon was love… his kindness, his smile, his laugh, his words, his caresses, his control… all of it.

Staring me right in the face since the moment I met him. He was meant to come into my life. I was meant to meet him.

He made my heart beat again.

He found all the missing pieces that were scattered in places I didn’t even know I had hid them.

He put it back together.

He put me back together.

And there I was… handing it ri

ght back to him. Praying that I wouldn’t hurt him. Because, I knew he would never hurt me.

That’s when I felt tears roll down the sides of my face, and I bit my cheek. Just like he said I always did.

He knew me before I even knew myself. I was learning who I was through his eyes and embraces.

How is that possible?

The look on his face didn’t read sadness or sorrow, for what I thought he would be thinking. He looked happy… as if he knew he had finally broken me. He closed his eyes and I felt his lips kiss away my tears and then they flowed freely. He had unlocked a box inside of me that I didn’t know was there, but he found the key.

I smiled and grabbed his face, bringing it back to mine. I wanted him to look into my eyes, to see me.

To see Brooke.

The girl I once was.

The girl I didn’t think I’d ever be again.

We kissed and I moved my hips, he took my silent plea and he began to thrust in and out of me. I had done this hundreds of times before, but like everything else, it was much different with him. I moved my legs so that they were wrapped around his lower back. Bringing him closer to me, I swear I could hear our hearts beating at the same rhythm on each other’s chests. He rested on his elbows that framed my shoulders, and his hands never left the sides of my face; his thumbs pressing into my cheeks. And I hugged around his neck.

We kissed the entire time, not being able to get enough of each other. It seemed like hours went by and the whole world was shut out behind my closed curtains.

Devon and I lived in our bubble.

Where it was just the two of us.

And I never wanted to leave.

We spent the entire day learning each other’s bodies. We never got dressed and ate naked on her kitchen island. When she brought out dessert, I decided to eat it off her. We showered and became consumed and wrapped up in each other some more. I couldn’t even tell you how many times we made love. It seemed like we never stopped.

We fell asleep around two in the morning, still holding each other, and again I slept like the dead. No nightmares, a solid nine hours. I was the first to wake up the next morning and I recalled the day before. The way she cried and broke down in my arms was a memory that I would take to the grave.

I watched her sleep, enjoying the way her eyes blinked every few seconds, and how her pouty lips puffed out with each breath. She swayed her face into my chest and shyly smiled when she caught me staring at her.

“How many days do you have off?” I asked not wanting to know the answer.

“Two more.”

“Let’s get in my car and just drive with nowhere in particular to go. I’ll drive until I run out of gas and we will eat at whatever places we can find. Run away with me… for the next two days. Be mine.”

She smiled bright and high. “I’ll race you to your car.”

And just like that we began our road trip.

“If you keep playing this music, I’m going to hurt you,” she threatened. “My ears are bleeding, Devon, I cannot listen to this shit anymore.”

“I thought girls loved country music?”

“Are we from Alabama? Oh my God, how many times can you talk about your dead dog, your tractor, or your beer? Please… three pound… five ounce… baby Jesus, let me change this music.”

“Fine.”

“Oh, thank you!”

She grabbed her phone and connected her Bluetooth. Summertime Sadness, by Lana Del Ray, played through the speakers.

“You like house music?”

“Like? I love house music.”

“So does Ysabelle.”

“Who do you think taught her?”

I nodded. “Ah.”

“So… what’s up with you and Ysabelle?”

I looked over at her. “What?” I asked confused.

She shrugged. “I mean… she’s never talked about you and you don’t really talk about her, but you guys have known each other for over a decade. I don’t get it.”

“There’s nothing to get. I met her when she was a baby. She was sixteen years old and drinking; acting like she was grown. I took her under my wing, I guess. She reminded me of one of my sisters. I love her.”

She grinned. “Do I remind you of one of your sisters?”

“No. Not even close.”

“I love her, too. She has that allure about her. I remember the first time I ate her out; she was a scared little kitten.”

I looked over at her again, shocked. “You’re lying.”

She shook her head. “Why would I lie about that? I was her first.” She beamed.

“So… you were together often?”

“At the beginning, yes. Madam had me train most of the girls. But over the last few years that she was with VIP, rarely. We became like sisters and Madam knew it, so… we didn’t have to play that often.”

“I see. How often are you with women?”

Her gaze went from my eyes to my dick, which was standing straight at attention. “Do you want to know? Or does my best friend, The Incredible Cock?”

My head fell back, laughing. “Seriously?”

“What? It suits him, Hulk would be proud… but to answer your question, I’m with women often.”

“So you’re bi-sexual?”

“Hmmm…” She placed her finger on her lips, thinking. “I wouldn’t say bi-sexual, I would say tri-sexual. I’ll try anything once, and if I like, I’ll do it again.”

“So you like women?”

“I love women. Being with a woman is very different than being with a man. They’re soft and tender, and kiss different, too.” She rubbed her fingers over her lips. “I love to have a woman sit on my face and see her tits bounce up above me. To have her ride my tongue and mouth, and I have no choice in the matter because she’s taking what she wants. Her pleasure. It’s pretty fucking awesome,” she marveled at the thought and I readjusted my dick in my pants.

“You ever had a threesome?”

I cleared my throat. “Plenty.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Do you enjoy them?”

“Of course.”

“Ever share a woman with another man?”

I nodded.

“And?”

“Not my cup of tea. I don’t really like to share.”

“And two girls is different?”

“Much.”

“Why is that?”

“Women are naturally sexy and watching them go at it and suck my dick at the same time is… as you so gracefully just said… Pretty. Fucking. Awesome.”

“Huh, I’ll make sure to remember that,” she said with a wink.

We drove around for the next few hours, laughing our asses off about nothing in particular. When she reached over and grabbed my hand, placing it in her lap, I fell in love with her a little more. Brooke was subtle about her tactics, but when they happened it meant that much more to me.

She told me about her sisters and how they were all married and had kids; she had three nieces and two nephews that she adored. She spoiled them rotten and she knew it, saying her sisters always gave her shit about it. We talked about her growing up with a silver spoon in her mouth; she went to preschool in a limo, went on a trip around the world before she was five and didn’t remember a thing.

Her parents owned their own plane and she had traveled everywhere before she turned fourteen. They took fifty thousand dollar vacations like it was nothing and normal. We didn’t talk about her father and his affair, or how she became a VIP. But I knew I was right… Brooke wasn’t with VIP for the money or the glamour. It was different for her and I hadn’t quite put my finger on it yet…

I told her about my bar and how it fell into my lap. She listened to every word I said, taking in everything that I was sharing. We ate at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant and rented a hotel room that had the smallest shower known to man.

The sheets were rough and Brooke was scared that they had crabs, but I carried her o

ver to the bed and made love to her anyway. After that she didn’t care. We made love into the wee hours of the morning and slept on top of the sheets, because once the orgasm frenzy was over, she was terrified that bugs were going to crawl up her lady bits and make a home.

Her words, not mine.

We used each other as blankets and woke up the next morning and made love again before we left. I had no nightmares; just solid sleep.

I never imagined in a million years that I could feel the way I did.

Nothing could have prepared me for what was ahead.

In more ways than one.

We drove around aimlessly again and ended up somewhere in Naples.

“I’m hungry.”

“For someone who is so tiny, you sure do eat a lot.”

I slapped his arm.

“Fine. We will stop at the next place I see.”

“I want breakfast food, like chocolate pancakes with a lot of syrup and a buttercream doughnut.”

“Wow.”

“What?” I frowned.

“I mean a few weeks ago you were making me carry you into lakes to eat anything, but a salad. Now you’re asking for pancakes and doughnuts.”

“You make me be a bad girl.”

He smirked. “Pancakes and doughnuts coming right up.”

It was almost eleven thirty by the time we walked into an I-Hop. I could smell the calories. The hostess grabbed two menus and we followed her back to the corner booth.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw them. They were sitting side-by-side, her hands in his lap; looking lovingly and adoringly at each other.

Devon looked in the direction of my stare. “What? What’s going on?”

He heard his voice and looked up.

“Brooke,” he spoke.

“Dad,” I answered.

Devon looked back and forth between us...the realization finally hit him. He figured out that the woman sitting beside my father wasn’t my mother.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand, but I couldn’t move. My dad stood and walked toward me and that’s when I stepped back.

The woman stood up next to him. “Brooke, I’m Charlotte,” she spoke as if it were nothing.

It took me right back to that night.

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