Bad, Bad Things (4 page)

She finds the DVD we need and we replace the rest of them. It takes twenty minutes to fix all the dumped suitcases then we drag Cruz across the floor and haul him up onto 25

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the bed. Replacing the key around his neck is our first task and then we split up to tackle the others.

I jerk on the sides of his man thong and snap the flimsy elastic so I can tug them free. I toss them over my shoulder and pull a tube of lipstick from my pocket. It’s a cheapie from the drugstore, one I won’t mind throwing away because there is no way in hell I’ll ever use it after what I’m about to do. First I apply a thick coat and leave lipstick kisses all over his neck and waxed chest and belly. I run my palms over them, blotching the stains artfully, mimicking the smear likely to happen during frantic sex. As carefully as possible, I smudge cherry red circles around his semi-hard penis to make it look as if he received a blowjob.

Fox opens three condoms, adds a dollop of lotion inside the tips for good measure and wraps each in some tissue. She leaves them on the floor around the bed. I avert my eyes as she shimmies out of her panties and drops them next to a Lucite hooker heel.

The other shoe she stuffs in her purse.

“What do you think?” Fox asks, stepping into the extra pair of panties she stashed in her bag.

“I think he’s going to wake up hungover as hell, take one look at this room and think he had the time of his life. Give me your gloves.” She peels them off and hands them over. I motion toward the door. “You should go. I’ll clean up and hit the road.”

She nods. “I’ll find Jolie and we’ll catch up with you tomorrow. Can’t chance being seen together tonight.”

Fox tucks the DVD into her purse and leaves. I set the room to rights, bunch up my gloves and shove them into my pocket next to Fox’s. As I exit the room, my heart is beating a million miles a minute. I’m shaking but do my best to play it cool.

Luckily another housekeeping call sends me back to work. The rest of the night passes quickly.

“Where were you around three?” Frau Hauskeeping stands over me as I restock my cart before the end of shift. The run in her pantyhose has reached mid-calf now. “I sent 26

Bad, Bad Things

someone from maintenance up to 1774 and you weren’t there. We tried to reach you repeatedly.”

“I was up on the twentieth floor.”

“What were you doing there? You’re not supposed to be up there.”

I keep my eyes down as I stuff more paper towels into one of the compartments. “I dropped my cell phone under my cart in the elevator and hit the wrong floor button when I was trying to grab it. It took me up to that floor.”

“What were you doing in the elevator?”

“I wanted to take a smoke break.”

She huffs loudly. “You can’t just take a break when you want to, okay? I tell you when you can have a break, got it?”

“Yeah.”

She lingers as if she wants to say something else but apparently decides against it and walks away from me. I breathe a little sigh of relief and finish my end-of-shift duties. The last thing I do before clocking out is drop the wiped-down card in the lost-and-found box.

And then I get the hell outta there.

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Chapter Three

“Let’s watch it,” Fox urges, sitting cross-legged on the end of my bed the next evening. As a kind of celebration, we’re decked out in our jammies and spending the night watching movies and noshing on yummy pizza and the most expensive champagne Fox could steal—er, borrow—from her stepfather’s wine cellar.

“No way!” Jolie scrunches up her nose as she examines her pedicure touch-up.

Fox turns toward her. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like we haven’t watched porn together before, Jo.”

“Don’t call me Jo,” she says sharply. “And it’s just different. Porn is people you don’t know. We know who these people are. I have to see one of them for the rest of the week. I don’t want visions of his wang in my head when I run into Cruz in the lobby.”

My tummy clenches. “How is that going? Anything come up today?”

Jolie shakes her head. “If he noticed the DVD was gone, he hasn’t said anything.

Neither the team’s handlers nor security have made any inquiries. They’d be the first ones to start nosing around. I think, for the moment,” she qualifies, “we’re in the clear.”

“The maid I borrowed the uniform from having any trouble?”

“She’s on shift tonight so I won’t know until tomorrow at the earliest. If anything comes up, I’ll just pull some strings and have her moved out of housekeeping and over to guest services, catering or events. It’ll be fine.” She waves her hand. “I’ll deal with it.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Fox interrupts and springs from the bed. “We’re watching this DVD. O needs to know what’s on it to make sure it’s actually worth the money. End of discussion.”

Jolie starts to argue but seems to realize it won’t do any good. She opts for sulking instead. “Whatever.”

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I don’t even try to dissuade Fox. When she wants something, Fox gets it. “At least lock the door, Fox. I don’t want Delia bursting in at an inopportune moment.”

Fox does as I ask and pops in the DVD while Jolie clears away the pedicure paraphernalia from atop my comforter. We settle onto my bed, Jolie between Fox and me, and wait for the tape to start. In unison, our heads tilt to the left as the camera focuses in and out and seems turned on its side. Eventually it’s righted, paused and then shifts to life again.

“No way!” Jolie perks up and points at the TV. “That’s one of our hotels!”

“How can you tell?” I wonder, squinting at the room.

“I chose that wallpaper for the European market.” Her forehead scrunches. “It has to be Germany, Munich or Berlin.”

“They play a lot of soccer over there.” I let loose my ponytail and shake out my hair. “Maybe this was filmed after a game.”

“Shh!” Fox turns up the volume. “I hear voices.”

Sure enough, the sound of a conversation between two men can be heard. It’s a little muffled and not at all clear and takes place entirely off screen.

“What a crap recording job! With all the DVDs we found, you’d think he’d be some kind of a pro at this,” Fox remarks.

“Maybe this was his first tape,” I suggest, not knowing much about the age of this tape or the others.

“Doubt it,” Jolie says. “Cruz didn’t move to Sergei’s team until early last year. This tape was made between then and now.”

“This is boring!” Fox picks up the remote and fast-forwards through at least fifteen minutes of the recording during which all the action is off stage. When Cruz moves onto the screen, she hits play again.

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I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Cruz is completely naked except for a red ball gag strapped into his mouth and some kind of black thong-like device around his genitals.

“Is he…? Is that a…?”

“Chastity belt,” Fox says and scoots closer to the end of the bed for a better look.

“Looks like latex or rubber.”

“Whoa.” Jolie’s eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them. “It’s like a thong but scarier.”

Cruz climbs onto the bed, his movements hindered by the chastity belt straps circling his thighs. Head down, he presents his ass. I’m suddenly very glad for the side view the camera provides. I don’t think I’d much care for a straight-on view.

Another man steps into view. He’s fully dressed in black trousers and a pinstriped shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal muscular and tattooed forearms. A looped belt rests in one hand. Only the very bottom of his angular jaw is visible.

“Is that him?” Fox pauses the tape.

“I can’t tell,” I reply, biting my lip. “The camera is tilted down too far.”

She hits play and we watch in silent fixation as the man we assume to be Sergei administers one hell of a whipping with his belt. Cruz cries out in pain but pushes his ass back again and again to accept the blows. At one point, Sergei barks an order and Cruz grabs his cheeks, spreads wide and takes even more punishment. The belt licks between his buttocks and smacks against his plump, latex-encased sac. Like a consummate sadist, Sergei takes his time administering the whipping. He alternates quick whacks of the belt with slow, almost teasing swipes.

It’s a fascinating and disturbing display. To see Cruz practically begging for another biting lash, his hips rocking, distorted words filtering past the gag, does something very strange to me. At first I’m stunned, appalled…but then I’m inexplicably turned-on by the whole thing. There’s something so incredibly exciting and forbidden about watching someone else’s private moments.

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By the time the whipping stops, the three of us are breathing hard. I sneak a sideways glance at Fox and Jolie. They’re both flushed and tense, eyes locked on the television. There’s something in the air, an electric zing that tells me this night is about to get a lot more interesting.

On screen, Sergei puts down the belt and orders Cruz onto the floor. There’s no mistaking Sergei now. His voice is clearer on the DVD and the Russian accent is unmistakable. Cruz kneels at Sergei’s feet like some kind of well-trained pet. When Sergei bends down to remove the gag, his face is plainly visible. It’s all the proof I need.

I expect Jolie to point this out and demand Fox stop the DVD, but she seems distracted by a silky patch of skin just above the waistband of Fox’s pajama bottoms.

I’m more interested in the action on screen. The idea of switching places with Cruz makes me tingle with excitement. I’ve always secretly gotten off on this kind of thing.

There’s a reason I have all those A. N. Roquelaure books stashed under my bed.

The sexual tension in the room sizzles and I’m not sure who makes the first move, but before I know it, we’re all lying on the bed in various states of undress. It’s all hands and mouths and tongues as clothes are removed and discarded.

Jolie’s lips are so soft beneath mine. A hint of champagne clings to her tongue. My hands tangle in her black hair, the texture so fine and smooth, what she jokingly refers to as “good hair”. Our breasts touch, nipples pebbled, hers a deep cocoa and mine a little rosier. She’s warm and supple beneath my roving hands.

Fingers grasp my derriere, the nails far too short to belong to Jolie. Pressed up against Jolie’s back, Fox nips at her shoulder blade and reaches across her hip to grab me. Her eyes are smoky with desire as she captures my gaze. There’s no mistaking that look. Tonight,
she’ll
be calling the shots. Fox wastes no time taking charge and arranging us as she likes.

With Fox’s not-so-subtle urging, Jolie ends up on her back and I end up on my tummy between her splayed thighs. Her immaculately waxed cunt is so pretty, the inner lips a stunning bright pink. The smell of her arousal tantalizes and I lick my lower 31

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lip, desperate to taste her. I circle her clit with my fingertip. It’s firm and already swelling and peeking out from beneath the hood.

As I’m kissing and nibbling my way up Jolie’s inner thigh, Fox pulls my hips up off the bed and slides underneath me. She palms my ass and presses soft kisses to my lower belly. My pussy clenches at her close proximity. No one I’ve ever met eats pussy as good as Fox does. I get so wet just thinking about her tongue sliding between my folds and flicking my clit.

But of course she’s a complete bitch about it and teases me mercilessly by blowing softly on my burning skin and kissing everywhere but right where I want her. When she finally sucks my clit between her lips, I yelp and thrust down against her tongue.

“Oh fuck yes!”

Reveling in the mind-blowing sensations Fox evokes, I swipe Jolie’s cunt with the pointed tip of my tongue. Her cream is slick and just the slightest bit salty. She always tastes so good. Jolie fists the comforter and bucks her hips as I lap at her pussy. I draw lazy circles around her clit with my tongue and then lick slowly up and down, throwing her off every time she seems to get close. She makes the sweetest little sounds, her moans and whimpers restrained and almost embarrassed.

Sometimes it’s hard to concentrate on giving Jolie pleasure because Fox is driving me crazy with her torturous techniques. She brings me right to the edge and then backs off, moving her lips to my thighs or belly. It’s frustrating and yet so good. I’m gripped by the urge to send her old girlfriend, Pip, a thank you gift of some kind.

I suck on two of my fingers and lube them up nicely before slowly sliding them inside Jolie’s hot, slippery pussy. Fingers pumping in her channel, I attack her swollen clit with my tongue. She goes wild. Her hips swivel. She grabs my hair and pulls hard as she rides out a breathtaking climax. I can feel her cunt pulsing around my fingers and it turns me on something fierce. The act of giving her joy provides an amazing a high.

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Jolie pulls away, sliding up the comforter and away from my tongue. Eyes closed, she reclines against a pillow and enjoys the afterglow. Smiling devilishly, I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand and sit up, my knees on either side of Fox’s head. She loops her hands around my thighs to hold me in place while she feasts on my pussy.

The sound of her tongue sliding through my juices competes with my moans and pants. There is nothing hotter than riding Fox’s face to an explosive orgasm. Our eyes meet, her pupils dilated with lust, and I’m gone. I come so hard I can’t breathe or cry out. I just keep my gaze fixed on hers as she licks and sucks me into another, even more stunning climax.

When I just can’t take any more, I fall off her and onto my back. As I pant and shudder, Jolie moves between Fox’s legs. I move closer to Fox, snuggling up to her side.

I kiss her neck and cheek and then capture her mouth. I can taste my cum on her lips and tongue. The musk of sex infiltrates my system like some kind of aphrodisiac. I suckle the tip of her tongue then teasingly bite Fox’s lower lip as Jolie tongues her to a shattering orgasm.