Pretty in Kink Read online

  “Oh no. No.” She shook her head. “I-I didn’t mean it that way. I’ve just never been to a party like this before, but I’m enjoying it so far. In fact, I’m glad you brought me.”

  “Really?” He grinned and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. She had an urge to bite it, to suck it inside her mouth, but she resisted.

  “Really.”

  He kissed her, right there in front of everyone. The gentle brush of his lips sucked the strength out of her, made her eyelids flutter and her knees go weak. Why was it that her knees always seemed to be affected by everything he did?

  “Be right back,” he said with a click of his tongue and a wink that made her dizzy with giddiness.

  She gripped the table and lowered herself to the bench. Wow. What that man could do to her with so little effort. She toyed with her long ponytail and tried to catch her breath without appearing as if she were some infatuated, drooling teenager.

  He took a few steps to a nearby vendor trailer, sauntered back to her with a huge plate of powdered-sugar-coated funnel cake.

  “Breakfast,” he announced with a devastating grin that made her heart do a flip in her chest.

  He sat next to her. She caught the pleasant aroma of soap and leather entwined with smoke. Nice.

  She took a long draught of the cocktail, then picked at the warm cake. The sweet, doughy sensation of it melted in her mouth. Not her usual diet, and she’d never had a drink this early in the morning before, but the cake tasted heavenly and the cocktail went down smooth and strong. The heat of the morning sun beat down on her back while the cool, potent mixture slid down her throat and quenched her thirst. She took several more gulps and sighed when the first traces of alcohol hit her system.

  Britt’s gaze met his. Warmth and amusement twinkled in his eyes and gave her a sense of safety and a sudden charge of excitement. “Sorry about, you know, all the open gawking. I probably look like a kid who just found her parents’ stash of porn movies, don’t I?”

  Diego popped a wad of cake in his mouth, licked his fingers. He cupped her jaw and traced her cheek with his moist thumb. “No, it’s fine. Ya know, here—and anywhere with me—you can let go, explore, ask questions, give things a try if you want. Let loose. I won’t get pissed.”

  Let loose.

  “Yes, yes. Sure, I know.” Her gaze wandered around the perimeter, noting all the RVs and pop-up campers lining the fence, then over to the topless women again. They were dirty dancing with each other, licking hard nipples and kneading breasts, shoving their hands down each other’s cutoff, skimpy Levi’s shorts. The fact that they didn’t care who saw them made Britt smile and her pussy warm. She’d always had a secret fantasy of making love to a woman, but she’d never told anyone—oh my lord, no—and she’d never pursued it for sure.

  And yet the fantasy played out right here in front of her, the real thing. And no one seemed to bat an eye, especially not Diego. She supposed it was old school for him. He’d doubtless been in the middle of a group like that many times in his past.

  A stab of jealousy overrode her pleasure and spoiled the sense of freedom she’d been riding. She tore off a piece of cake, chased it with another swallow of the drink. The conglomerate of liquors worked, calming her nerves with each sip and gulp.

  A burly, tattooed man sat down opposite Diego. He wore a red hanky do-rag over gold-blonde hair secured in a low ponytail at the back of his neck like Diego’s. He sported several piercings on his lip and eyebrows. Handsome in a bad-boy, biker kind of way, she decided.

  His gray eyes swept Britt with a look of respectful appreciation. “Hey there. Name’s Glen. This is mine and my wife’s place, the house with the wild pool party too, but I don’t take responsibility for anything any of these crazy bastards and chicks do—unless it turns out to be something good, which is hard to come by.” He held his hand across the table and she placed hers in his bear paw. It was warm and soft. Welcoming.

  Britt laughed at his dry humor. “Nice to meet you, Glen. I’m Britt. You have a great place here—including the ‘wild pool’—and the charity function is an admirable thing.”

  “Thanks, doll. Now I have a question. What the hell’s a classy chick like you doing with a punk like this Scoundrel dude?”

  Britt couldn’t help but giggle again. “Scoundrel?” That was the second time she’d heard him called that and she’d just realized it was being used as a proper name, not in general.

  Diego shrugged. “Eh, just my idiot friends trying to be funny.”

  “Hell with that.” Glen snorted. “You earned that name big-ass time. Always breaking the ladies’ hearts.”

  She eyed Diego over the rim of her cup. “Really? Well I think that’s kind of obvious just looking at him.”

  “Oooh. Uh-oh, look out, she’s hot on ya, man.” Glen’s eyebrows arched, but he didn’t say anything more.

  Diego didn’t miss a beat of his friend’s humor, and he didn’t seem to be threatened by Glen’s reference to Diego’s player image either. He took a long gulp of his ice water then shook the cup at Glen. Ice rattled. “On the other hand, Glen here’s the top-dog asshole. He’s not as mean as he looks, though.”

  Glen shrugged his strapping shoulders and examined the label on his bottle of beer. He wore a black leather vest with no shirt beneath it. His hairy chest revealed more tattoos. “Fuck you, man. I’ll show you mean.”

  The two laughed and bumped fists across the table.

  “Hey. Couldn’t help overhearing…” Glen downed half the beer, belched. “This here bastard, there is one thing that’ll piss him off.”

  Britt gave Diego a sidelong look. His eyes grew stormy and he shot Glen a glare that could kill, one that said, “Shut the hell up, or else.” Diego took a mouthful of ice, chomped and shifted his boots beneath the table.

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?” Britt asked.

  Off in the distance, a hard-rock song started, the lyrics chanting something like, “You’re mine, babe, you’re mine. Watch out, I know the sign.”

  “Shut up, Glennon. It’s none of your damn business,” Diego grumbled.

  Glen raked Britt up and down with a look of male appreciation. “A sophisticated broad like this, I think she needs to know that in spite of all the kinky shit she’s seeing out here, you don’t share your women. Well, at least not with men. Now with women…” His gaze danced to the topless biker chicks. “That’s another story. Not in his bed, mind you. Just gets off on watchin’ his babe play and tease him. Oh no, won’t welcome anyone else in his bed. It’s just a twofer. Damn him,” he grumbled.

  “A twofer? Sounds juvenile. Now goddamn you, you prick,” Diego muttered, “it’s our first date. She doesn’t need to hear that crap.”

  An idea started forming in Britt’s head, granted it swam with the Long Island Tea, but that had become her vehicle to get up the nerve. She eyed the seductive women. Her pussy flooded with heat and her mind raced in anticipation at each sense that could become enhanced. Would she like the taste of a woman, the feel of her skin, the pressure of fleshy breasts and nipples together, getting full-on cunnilingus with one of these gorgeous, uninhibited gals? The anticipation that Diego would “get off” on it, that he’d be watching her please and be pleased by another woman? Phew. The entire scenario had Britt’s pulse going thready and her panties dampening.

  But did she have the nerve to initiate it? Or even be coaxed into it?

  Another swallow went down. She slammed her cup in front of Diego. “It’s no problem. A woman needs to know where she stands with her man. Oh, and I’ll take another tea, please.”

  Herman? Did I really just say that? Whoa, this is one potent cocktail.

  Diego picked up the cup and peered inside. He jiggled the remainder of the melting ice. “I’ll get you a water too. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be hung over in two hours.”

  “Funny.” Britt tilted her head and made a face at him.

  Glen snorted. “Did I mention the dude’s also a gentleman? L
ooks after the people he cares about.”

  People he cares about. Hm, she liked the sound of that. It made her feel safe and secure.

  Diego unfolded himself from the picnic bench and grumbled something about nosy-assed friends. He headed back to the bar and Britt couldn’t help admiring the “Diego saunter” that emphasized his nice butt and the strain of hamstring muscles beneath worn denim.

  “See the hot, topless brunette over there looking our way?” Glen asked, his voice gruff and cryptic.

  Britt couldn’t help but notice. She danced at the center of the rowdy crowd of partiers, the most gorgeous of all the women. She could easily be a model in one of Britt’s catalog shoots. “You mean the one who keeps winking at you and me?”

  Glen grinned, revealing a row of white teeth with one gold cap over an eyetooth. Small gold loops in his earlobes glittered by the sunlight. “Yep, that would be the one. My naughty, beautiful wife Michelle. She’s been devouring you since you rode through the gate on Diego’s bike. If you’re interested, they’re getting ready to start the Gelatin-Wrestling Contest. Well, it’s not really a contest.” He gave a crooked, roguish smile. “Everyone wins with something as hot as that. But really, she’d welcome a little play in the Jell-O pit with you. Go get a suit on and dive in and make her day.”

  She imagined herself rolling around in the pit of gelatin with Michelle while Diego watched. Britt’s lower belly quickened and an achy flood of heat soaked her pussy. Her panties dampened yet again. Damn. By the time she got out of here, she’d have to change her panties several times.

  Michelle was stunning—long dark hair, full lips, large breasts, curvy hips and long legs. Britt wasn’t sure how she’d gotten those skimpy shorts on, but she wondered what it would be like to try to get them off Michelle.

  Britt fanned her face. Whew. What was wrong with her? She’d never been with a woman before, yet she’d rolled through the gates of this biker rally not thirty minutes ago and now she didn’t recognize herself. She’d become a nympho full of curiosity and ready to try anything.

  Including a woman.

  In front of everyone.

  For Diego.

  “What lies did he tell you while I was gone, babe?” Diego asked, setting down a fresh Long Island Tea and two glasses of ice water.

  “Oh, I told her she should—”

  “Shh, Glen, it’s a secret,” Britt cut in.

  “Ah, I see,” Glen said with a nod and a conspiratorial snort.

  She enjoyed this little interplay with Diego’s friend. Something had evolved in her since bumping into Diego in the store. She didn’t recognize the woman she’d become since meeting him, since arriving here, but she basked in it nonetheless.

  She wanted to let loose and see what a walk on the wild side felt like for once in her stiff, boring life.

  Doris would so kill her if she could see her now. “You’re going to ruin your promising future,” she’d chide.

  Britt suppressed a laugh, imagining her agent stalking through the gate and spotting her sitting here surrounded by bikers and their rough and rowdy party. And so early in the morning at that.

  “Well I don’t see shit. What’s the hell’s up with you two?” Diego asked.

  When Britt and Glen remained silent and grinned at each other, Diego took a long sip of his water. A single eyebrow arched wing-like, suspicious, but not for long. He shrugged and dug a pack of cigarettes out of his inside vest pocket. He’d swapped the leather jacket out for the vest and stuffed it in the bike saddlebag as soon as they’d arrived.

  “Mind?” he asked Britt, holding up the pack.

  The band announced a break. Partiers whooped and whistled. Motorcycles roared to life and a group of bikers revved their engines at a dirt raceway across the field. A local hard-rock radio station blared over the speakers, entertaining partiers in the band’s absence. Up the aisle of vendor tents, a skimpily clad woman focused on painting the breasts of another woman, her nipples erect, dark discs of brown. Britt dragged her gaze from the sensual picture the two made sitting in the sun, artist and “canvas”.

  “No, not at all. It’s your lungs,” she said with a cheerful note. Britt had never dated a smoker before, but there had been something sort of…sexy about kissing him with the vague taste of mint gum mixed with tobacco in the kiss.

  He chuckled and nodded a thanks, lit the cigarette, took a drag and blew a smoke ring to the side, away from her face. He eyed her through the stubborn whorls of smoke the breeze brought back. The entire gesture screamed alpha-man hot.

  In fact, it made her hot just watching him.

  No, she didn’t mind him smoking at all.

  “A secret? What’dya mean?” he asked in that raspy voice of his.

  She glanced over at the Jell-O pit. The “gelatin men” continued to carry five-gallon buckets over to fill the vat.

  Glen rose and winked at Britt. “Well, I’ll get outa your hair and let your old lady explain that one. Welcome, Britt. Good to see you, man,” he added, slapping Diego on the back before ambling to the bar.

  Old lady?

  “Shit. No telling about him. What was that all about?” Diego asked with a groan.

  Britt took a long drink of water then chased it with a sip of the sweet, strong cocktail. “You’ll see.”

  Her stomach did a few butterfly flips. What had gotten into her? Was she going to do this? For real? Her gaze wandered over to Michelle, who gave her a seductive smile and a wave. Britt waved back with a slight lift and flutter of her fingers off the tabletop. It had to be Diego and the atmosphere. She took another drink of the tea. And it had to be the wicked cocktail too.

  Oh, and that shameful photo shoot with Lexi. Now that had to be the culprit if she had to pick one thing that had started it all. Ever since then, she’d been in an almost constant state of arousal. Or maybe meeting Diego had shoved her libido into overdrive? Then there was his fiery, smoky kisses, the vibrating ride on his motorcycle and now this, all combined to make her more horny than she’d ever been.

  More than she’d ever thought possible.

  And now she considered playing in a vat of Jell-O with Diego’s friend’s wife?

  “Really? You’re going to make me wait and agonize over this ‘secret’?” The late-morning sun warmed his honey-toned skin and put a sparkle in his chocolate eyes. It made her breathless to hold his gaze with hers. She could just imagine those eyes pinning her to the bed while he pummeled her with his cock.

  Phew. She squirmed on the bench.

  Diego took one more drag then smashed his cigarette out in a sand-filled barrel at the end of the table. He let the smoke smolder out of his mouth, waiting for her to answer.

  She tore off a curl of funnel cake, popped it in her mouth and rose. Her heart thumped with her boldness, but something kept pushing her forward with the idea Glen had planted in her head. She wanted to be exciting for Diego, different for once instead of the same ol’ boring Britt Malone.

  She snatched up her backpack, her belly swirling with a potent mixture of liquor, nerves and arousal. She downed the rest of the drink, swallowed back a cough. “Yep. Let me hit the restroom and then as I said, you’ll see.”

  “Okay. I’ll be waiting. Impatiently.” He gave her an intense, appraising look that melted her heart and seemed to caress her pussy.

  She turned and walked toward the outdoor restroom facilities. She heard a long whistle and knew it was Diego. His appraising look caressed her ass too. It made her smile, feel prideful of the compliment.

  Once inside the concrete brick structure, it relieved her to find it clean, fresh-smelling—and empty. She slipped into one of the two metal stalls, hung the backpack on a hook and dug for her bikini. She found it buried among flips-flops, a set of clean panties, a t-shirt and socks for later.

  “Damn, why did I bring this one?” she whispered as she pulled out the neon-pink, string two-piece. Would Diego and all his friends think she was trying to show off her body? She wasn’t sure, bu
t a one-piece might have been the safer route to go.

  Too late. She’d already fallen in way too deep to back out now. She’d just have to down another Long Island Tea and deal with it. She blew out a few cleansing breaths to slow her breathing, stripped down naked and zipped her jeans, tank, Nikes and soaked panties into the backpack. By the time she had the suit on and her feet into flip-flops, women filtered into the bathroom, giggling and chattering.

  Great. Now I’ve got to parade out in front of them.

  She took one last gulp of air and opened the stall door.

  “Whoa. Baby, you look hot,” one bleached-blonde said on a low whistle. Her ice-blue gaze raked Britt with open admiration.

  “Thanks,” Britt said softly while her face flamed with embarrassment. But at the same time, something about it made her crotch tingle.

  A chubby redhead scoured Britt with a look of envy and shrugged. “Nothing special in my opinion.”

  The tingle extinguished between Britt’s legs.

  “Oh Candy, you’re just jealous,” another blonde said, “because she’s snagged Diego. Not to mention she’s gorgeous as all get-out.”

  “Whatever.” Candy rolled her eyes and locked herself in a stall.

  A pretty brunette standing in line held out her hand and smiled. Dimples dented her cheeks and lent her a youthful, cheery look. “Hi. Mindy here.” She had a husky voice and a barely clad, well-proportioned body, far from youthful.

  Britt took the woman’s hand. An instant connection of warmth and genuine welcome engulfed her. “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Britt. Britt Malone.”

  Mindy sidled closer and elbowed Britt amicably. Britt caught the heady scent of her perfume. Out of the side of Mindy’s bright-red-painted mouth, she murmured, “Michelle, Glen’s wife, she’s got the hots for you. Why don’t you go play with her in the gelatin pit? You’d make her day—not to mention Diego’s. He’s known—among other things—for getting off on watching his woman with another chick.”

  “Yeah, I heard that rumor,” Britt said with a nervous chuckle. “And that’s just where I’m headed—to the gelatin pit. A little nervous about it, but I’m going to give it a shot.”