Dirty Games: A BWWM Romance Read online

  “Beautiful,” Wes whispered. “You look so perfect.”

  He pressed his lips over Zenobia’s cheek then shifted down to her throat. He let the arm he had around Zenobia’s chest slide lower, his warm hand caressing her ass teasingly before slipping a finger inside Zenobia’s entrance, feeding her just the tip before pulling it back out to run in circles around her quivering hole.

  Zenobia wailed, her wetness slicking up Wes’s hand. Heat coiled tight in her belly as she didn’t know which way he should go, if she should open wider or thrust up against Wes’s hand, her moans becoming higher and more disconnected as a wave of pleasure shook her from within.

  “Come on, Zenobia,” Wes encouraged

  His arms coiled around her thighs as he continued his delicious torment, the pad of his finger massaging her fiercely. Wes’s lips pressed warm over Zenobia’s belly, and his arms tightened as his slick hand drew a choked wail from her lips and come splashed across the couch, thick, fast and messy.

  Wes wrapped Zenobia in his arms as her body turned to warm butter and melted against him, easing her onto the couch, snug in his arms. He tipped her shaking chin up to steal a kiss. She blinked slowly, trying to come back from the earth-shattering orgasm that had rocked through her body.

  “That was…”

  She struggled to try and find words for what she was trying to say, but Wes cut her off with another kiss.

  “Yeah,” he said simply.

  He pressed his thumb over Zenobia’s lips, and Zenobia instinctively sucked it into her mouth, getting a soft noise out of Wes’s throat.

  “Do you need…” she didn’t complete the sentence, but Wes shook his head with a grin, kissing the tip of her nose.

  “Nope,” he muttered with a wink. “But I might need a change of pants.”

  Zenobia blushed as a warm, almost proud feeling was spreading through her chest, knowing that she just managed to get Wes to orgasm without even touching his cock.

  “We could do with a shower,” she muttered, her eyes gleaming, but Wes shook his head with a chuckle and kissed her again.

  “Don’t have time,” he whispered. “You know that if we get in a shower together, we won’t ever get out in time for the draw, and I don’t want to leave Rose by herself too long.”

  Zenobia nodded, trying to push herself to a sitting position as Wes sat up himself.

  “To be honest, I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with her, Wes,” Zenobia said, looking around for her discarded clothes. “She’s just shy.”

  “Lately, she’s been getting worse. I mean, I know this was never really her kind of scene, but I don’t even know if she wants to work here anymore.”

  “Well, she did say that she’s coming in tomorrow,” Zenobia revealed. “So I don’t think that’s the problem.”

  Wes shook himself out of his dirty jeans and looked around for a cloth to clean himself and Zenobia.

  “Then what would you think it is?”

  “A man tried to hit on her at the bar, and she was just… completely flustered. I had to come in and save her.”

  Wes’s eyes suddenly twinkled in a spark of understanding.

  “Did you really?”

  “Yeah. I think she’s just… lonely. And shy. It’s hard to get through to her.”

  “Oh, but I will.”

  “Wes…”

  Grinning, Wes swooped down on Zenobia, kissing her nose again as he ran a washcloth over his cock.

  “Don’t worry.”

  “When you say that, I am actually terrified.”

  Wes laughed and stuffed himself into a fresh pair of jeans. “I won’t do any lasting damage. I just need to find out.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat, Wes.”

  “Really?”

  Zenobia snorted and tried to regain feeling in her legs, pushing herself up tentatively and wrapping her arms around Wes’s waist.

  “Don’t scare her away, love, okay?”

  “Scare her off? Me?”

  Zenobia raised her eyebrows at him, and a softer grin spread across Wes’s face.

  “I just want to help her out, okay? I care about her. She’s a good kid.”

  “All right,” Zenobia granted, kissing his cheek. “Just be nice.”

  “I’m always nice.”

  Zenobia shook her head with a chuckle. Wes bounced out of the studio just as the speakers cracked to life, the music turned down and a suave voice called, “Welcome to Casa Blanca’s Blind Dates night! The lottery draw is now open…”

  Chapter 3

  Rose looked around at the tables, at the customers waiting for the draw, nervously glancing for Wes’s charismatic presence. She didn’t mind being at the bar alone, but at the same time, she always felt better if Wes was there with her to manage things. She was only a bartender after all, and she knew that most of the crowd was there not only because of the night’s specials, but because of Wes himself.

  No one ever came there to see Rose—a poor young woman working in the most glamorous club in all of Florida, and it didn’t matter how many times Zenobia and Wes both told her that the club was multi-racial. She still felt like the underdog, despite trying as hard as she could not to let it affect her work or her relationship with the bosses.

  Rose had been working at Casa Blanca’s for about three years now, and she had to admit that since Zenobia came on board for the management of the club, she felt less out of place. Zenobia was just naturally sweet, and had a real charm to her that made Rose feel less tense when she was at work. She knew of course that Zenobia and Wes were a team in more ways than one, which felt a little awkward to several of her co-workers at first. As for Rose, it felt nice to finally have someone take notice of her. Most of the men who came to this club did nothing for her. They were fine enough, and gave her good tip money, but they were just patrons in her eyes. There was, of course, the occasional classy-looking older man who still had a lust for life and enjoyed beautiful women. Unfortunately, she was never really brave enough to speak to any of them. Those men always seemed to be preoccupied with someone else, anyway. Then there were others who were just flat-out creepy. During one of her first nights there, a man started shouting at her over the bar and telling everyone how he would fuck her in the back alley. Needless to say, he was thrown out. It’s amazing that she came back to work after that.

  It also didn’t help that no one in her family had any idea what she was no doing for a living. Hell, they all thought she was working at a fast food restaurant. She had been brought up in a very strict Christian household where she had been expected to find a husband right after high school and save herself until her wedding night. She obviously had no intention of doing any of that, but it had always been a challenge to try and shake that belief system from her train of thought.

  The beautiful woman in charge of the lottery draw was speaking through a microphone, calling numbers, when suddenly, Wes’s hand came down on her shoulder and squeezed.

  “Hey there, Rosie.”

  Rose smiled briefly. “Hey. Business okay?”

  “Never been better,” Wes grinned, but he wasn’t looking at the lottery, he was glancing back at the studio’s door. “You know what, I can take the bar tonight. You take off early, mingle, and have fun.”

  “Uh… but… no, Wes, really, I’m okay.”

  “Well, you work six days a week, and you have college on top of that. It’s a good night. Me and the other guys can manage.”

  Rose bit her lower lip, unnerved and agitated at the same time. “Wes, really. I just… I wouldn’t know what to do.”

  “I’m sure you could find something to do tonight,” Wes said with a wink.

  Rose shook her head. “If you don’t need me, I’m just going… home.” She knew that she sounded defeated, almost, and she wished she could kick herself in the ass. Way to look like a loser.

  Wes’s grin faded in a genuinely concerned, if knowing, look. “Rose.”

  Rose swallowed hard. God, she really hoped she hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m worried about you. And Zenobia is, too.”

  “Why?”

  “You just don’t seem to ever have any fun,” Wes said easily, leaning on the bar counter, arms crossed over his chest. “I mean, I know I’m only your boss and all that, but I worry.”

  Rose blushed, shifting on her feet. She was spared answering for a moment by the arrival of a couple of clients, and both she and Wes quickly prepared their drinks, smiles firmly in place. Rose didn’t dare look at Wes as she worked, the sounds of the lottery were cushioned by the agitated rush in her ears. Once the guests had finally moved on, Rose finally turned back again to face her boss.

  “I don’t… have many friends,” she confessed then, rubbing the back of her neck without glancing up. “It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault.”

  Zenobia had finally emerged from the studio, and was walking briskly toward them, looking at the back of her boyfriend’s head with amused, if warning eyes. Wes looked behind him when he heard the division to the bar flap open, and grinned at Zenobia, wrapping his arm around her waist.

  “Hi.”

  “What’re you doing to her?”

  “Me? Nothing.”

  Rose smiled at their antics, the knot in her stomach giving way slightly.

  “Don’t listen to him, Rose. He’s being an… well, he’s being his annoying self, that’s who he’s being.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Wes said, eyes bright with mischief. “Come on, Rose, you don’t have a boyfriend now, do you?”

  Rose fumbled with the cocktail shaker and nearly dropped it at the question, her blush spreading from her cheekbones to her
neck and chest, the rush of heat quickly melting into sweat. She didn’t even see or hear Zenobia reproaching Wes, too wrapped up in her own embarrassment.

  “Rose, please don’t mind him. He’s being a dick right now.”

  Rose mumbled something unintelligible.

  “What?”

  “Leave her alone” Zenobia demanded calmly, but Wes was not to be deterred.

  “I didn’t catch that.”

  Rose looked between him and Zenobia again, turning redder and redder.

  “Uh…never…”

  “What?”

  “I said, never.” Rose swallowed. “I never…never even did it.”

  Did she really just admit to her bosses that she was a virgin? God, how much more awkward and embarrassing could she possibly get.

  There was silence after that. It was as though the music had jarred to a stop and everyone had turned to look at Rose. It wasn’t the case, of course. People were too busy picking up their keys and wandering off to the upper rooms of the club, and the music was still strong and loud, but for Rose, it could’ve very well been the center ring in a circus with a single spotlight on her.

  Wes blinked, taken aback by her blunt answer, then apparently managed to pull himself together and tried to play it cool.

  “Oh. Oh! Okay. Um. Yeah. Okay. Well then, we need to get onto that.”

  “Get on to—what? No, uh, no, I-I mean…” Rose stuttered, not understanding what Wes was on about.

  “Wes, you can’t be serious right now.”

  “I am. Come on, you need to live a little. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four,” Rose replied.

  Wes was silent as he tapped his chin with a finger, pondering what the best course of action was.

  “Okay,” he said at last. “You’re taking a week off, starting now.”

  “What?”

  “For the next week, you will come to work, but you will enjoy the club as though you were a customer. Everything on me.”

  Rose hesitated, looking between the two of them, trying to figure out whether they were joking or not.

  “What?” she repeated, feebly, not really believing what she was hearing.

  “Are you on a quest to mess with her life?” Zenobia asked, a hint of exasperation creeping up in her tone.

  “Nope. Just to get you to have some fun,” Wes added, turning to Rose again.

  Zenobia shook her head and took half a step forward, looking way more understanding.

  “I think what my boyfriend is trying to say, with his usual eloquence, is that you need to live a little; you can’t just watch things happening around you. Trust me, I did it for long enough, and it never pays off.”

  The words rang honest, and, sadly, hit too close to home for Rose to ignore them. She swallowed and lowered her eyes, realizing for a jolt that it was the first time someone ever cared to notice how monotone her life was. And the first time someone thought about doing something for Rose, no questions asked.

  “Come on.” Wes encouraged. “You can go change in the studio while I arrange for your lucky night,” he added with a wink.

  Rose hesitated, then nodded again, finally deciding to cross the proverbial threshold and give in to Wes’s plan.

  It was with a thrill of foreboding that she walked into the studio and started taking off her bartender’s uniform as though she’d unconsciously agreed to something that was going to change her life, irrevocably and forever.

  ****

  Brent kept his keys in his pocket, surveying the club with bright, attentive eyes. He was so used to the night scene at Casa Blanca’s that he didn’t even go through the draw anymore. He just picked up a key, and whoever was waiting behind the door was fine in his books.

  Sometimes though, he liked pursuing the clientele. Tonight was one of those nights. “Hey,” he sat in a stool before the bar, nodding at Wes with a grin.

  “Brent,” Wes greeted, beaming. “How’re you doing, friend?”

  “Just fine,” Brent said easily, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. “Checking out the scene, the usual. Hi, Zenobia.”

  Zenobia nodded and waved, easy and comfortable behind the bar as though she’d always been there. Brent sometimes found it hard to believe that she and Wes had only been together four months. That was like a lifespan of five minutes, and yet they worked together like a well-oiled machine.

  Brent wasn’t as jaded as people made him out to be. Sure, he was a real player, and he had no qualms about admitting it. Relationships weren’t for him, but he was happy to dip and taste whatever flavor he could find while he still could. He was nearing his forties, though nearly everyone who first met him said he didn’t look a day over thirty. Of course, there were lots of people who thought he was too old, some even saying he was having a mid-life crisis. Brent didn’t care about them. What he cared about was getting booze flowing in his veins, grabbing a warm body for the night and fucking until he passed out.

  That’s when he saw her: standing by the far end of the bar, talking quietly to Zenobia, with long red hair and pants so tight they looked as if they were painted on. It was the very first time Brent really noticed her, yet he knew he’d seen her before. She stood out in that kind of place, mostly because of her slightly nervous posture, an attempt not to draw attention to herself—certainly a new practice at Casa Blanca’s. She was young, maybe a bit too young for Brent, and looked wide-eyed and innocent enough to draw all sorts of predators to her like honey for the bees. Yeah, he’d have one of those.

  Brent signaled Wes over. “Who’s that gorgeous creature over there?” he asked him, nodding toward where Zenobia was talking to her. “She looks familiar, but I don’t think I’ve met her.”

  “Not in these circumstances, probably.” Wes said with a wink. “That’s Rose. Our back-up bartender. I gave her some time off to have fun.”

  Brent sat back, appraising his target. “How come I’ve never seen her before?”

  “She goes to all sorts of lengths so people won’t notice her.” Wes grinned. “Rosie’s a bit of a loner. We’re trying to change that.”

  “Really?” Brent smirked and took his drink, downing it whole. “Well, I sure as hell noticed.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  ****

  Zenobia put another highball in front of Rose, who shook her head and pushed it away.

  “No, I can’t, I’ve had enough.”

  “This one’s from that guy over there,” Zenobia said as she turned to where Wes was talking to the newcomer.

  “The blonde?”

  Rose had seen him, alright. She’d been watching him pretty much every night that he came to Casa Blanca’s, excusing herself to the bathroom to rub one out every time he would take off to the secret rooms upstairs with some new companion on his arm. She would imagine what wicked games they would be playing, blushing to herself as she replaced Brent’s partner with herself in her mind’s eye.

  “Oh,” she said simply, not knowing what to do, her stomach clenching as a shiver raked down his spine.

  Zenobia winked at her “Will you drink it?”

  Rose looked over at Brent, startled to find him staring straight at her. Instinctively, she reached for the drink and downed it in one go. She set the glass down and waited, her left leg shaking in a jittery, nervous motion.

  Brent didn’t so much as blink as he ran his tongue hungrily over his bottom lip. Brent wasn’t one to wait for an invitation. He watched those pretty green eyes widen and grinned. He halted a few steps away from Rose. Still interested, but still not crossing any sort of personal space: well, at least not for now.

  “Hey,” he called with a sultry, slow smile. Rose’s eyes skimmed from the few open buttons on Brent’s shirt down to the jeans that clung to his strong, lean legs, and took the seat next to him, nudging at his fingers.

  “Hi.” The voice surprised her. It was low, raspy, and hot enough to slice right through Brent and pump straight in his blood. “I see you… I mean, you come here often.”

  Brent chuckled lowly at the shy statement. Rose was looking uncomfortable, and her attempt at boldness intrigued Brent more than the sleek routine he was used to from other partners he had.