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MALICE (A HOUNDS OF HELL MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE) by Nikki Wild (33)

Nine

I walked out onto the cold New York streets, the wind and snow whipping around me, the frenzied rush of people speeding by so fast that I struggled to make it across the sidewalk to the waiting limo.

“Ms. McDonnell,” Max nodded at me as he opened the door.

“Max,” I said, turning to him before he closed the door behind me. “I need to go shopping, but I don’t have any idea where to go. Somewhere upscale,” I said, parroting Bear’s words.

“For clothes, ma’am?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“I know just the place,” he smiled, before closing the door and running around to the driver’s side. We pulled away from the curb and I leaned back in the seat.

My body had adjusted to the plug by now and the intensity of the sensation had lessened enough that with a little luck, I wouldn’t make a fool out of myself. I couldn’t believe I was doing this—going out in public like this. The entire situation was surreal.

I jumped when I felt my phone buzzing in my suit pocket. When I saw it was Marie, I smiled. She was exactly the person I needed to talk to.

“So?” she asked, not bothering with a greeting at all, just like always. “How’s New York?”

“It’s incredible. Bear’s given me my own apartment, just off Central Park!”

“You aren’t staying with Matilda?”

“Well, I thought I was going to, but no. Bear gave me my own place.”

“How’s everything going with him? Did he tell you what your job is?”

“Um…,” I hesitated. “Well….”

“You fucked him again, didn’t you?”

“Oh my god, Marie,” I said, my words rushing out of me like a river, as I lowered my voice. I wasn’t sure how much Max could hear through the glass panel separating us. “He’s amazing.”

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes. Twice.” She squealed and I pulled the phone away from my ear.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking your boss!”

“Neither can I,” I said, smiling. “He’s quite a gentleman, actually. When he’s not fucking me, that is.”

“He isn’t a gentleman when he’s fucking you?”

“Hardly,” I scoffed. “More like a fuck machine. He's so dirty, Marie! He made me give him head while his assistant was in the room!”

“What!” she yelled.

“I know!” I said. “And… he gave me a gift.”

“What kind of gift?”

“Marie, you won’t believe this,” I said, squirming as the plug sent jolts of pleasure through me.

“What is it?”

“Have you ever used a butt plug?”

Her laughter roared through the phone like a tornado.

“What! Sure I have,” she said.

“Of course you have,” I said. “I forgot who I was talking to.”

“So he gave you a butt plug? What the fuck kind of gift is that? He’s a billionaire, he should have given you diamonds!

“It does have diamonds. Pink ones, on the outside.”

Her laughter was contagious and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m wearing it right now,” I whispered, hoping to hell that Max couldn’t hear me.

“Now?” she cried. “What the hell? Where are you?”

“I’m in the back of Bear’s limo on my way to go shopping. He also gave me my own credit card.”

“Holy shit, Chloe! You hit the fucking jackpot!”

“I guess so,” I replied.

“Why aren’t you more excited?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “He’s just such a mystery. He won’t really answer any of my questions. I guess I don’t have a real job, not that I can tell so far, except fucking him and doing what he tells me to, apparently.”

“Look, I saw this man’s picture, remember? Fucking him can’t be that bad.”

“It’s not bad at all,” I replied. “It’s just not what I’m used to.”

“Speaking of what you’re used to, Harlan called me looking for you.”

“Did you tell him I moved?”

“No. I didn’t answer his call. He left a voice mail asking for information about you.”

“Don’t tell him anything. I’m avoiding him completely.”

“I would, too, if I had a rich new sugar daddy,” she laughed.

“Don’t call him that!” I said.

“What should I call him, then? Your boyfriend?”

“No, I don’t think that’s appropriate either. I have no idea what to call him.”

“Does he make you call him Daddy?” she laughed.

“Shut up! No, he doesn’t,” I said, laughing with her. “I just call him Bear.”

“Well, whatever, I call him ‘hot’,” she said. “He must be a total freak in bed.”

“That’s an understatement,” I said.

“So, wait a minute…you’re going shopping right now and he’s making you wear a butt plug the entire time? That’s so…perverted.”

“I know,” I admitted.

“Does it feel good?” she asked.

“In more ways than one,” I replied.

“Take a picture and send it to me!” she said.

“What! No, are you insane?” I asked. The car slowed to a stop and I looked out the window and saw that Max had brought me to Bergdorf Goodman’s. “Marie, I have to go, I’m at Bergdorf’s now.”

“Bergdorf’s! You bitch!” she teased.

“Eat your heart out,” I said, so happy she’d called. Her laughter was the best medicine.

“Alright, alright. Look, Chloe, you deserve this. Let go. Enjoy everything. You only live once, you know. Don’t be such a prude.”

“I don’t think being prude is an option at this point,” I said.

“Good!” she replied. “Keep me posted. And um, Chloe?”

Yes?”

“I wear a size seven in Louboutin’s. Christmas is right around the corner,” she reminded me.

I laughed and shook my head.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “I’ll call you soon. Love you!”

“Love you, too! Size seven!”

I hung up the phone feeling lighter than I had since I’d arrived in town. Marie always had that effect on me. Her perspective was always a little skewed but she managed to see the bright side of things most of the time.

I walked into the store, my step a little lighter, despite the pink ring pop stuffed inside of my butt. Another shiver of pleasure shot through my body as I gazed at the huge, golden Christmas tree shimmering at the entrance to the store.

I looked around at all the people rushing past me and grinned at my private secret.

I spent the rest of the day shopping, silently thrilled at my secret adventure, my body tingling with pleasure as Bear’s face stayed front and center in my mind with each step, thanks to the plug.

By the time I made it back home to my apartment, I was exhausted and I’d put a serious dent in Bear’s credit card.

I’d had five separate orgasms, in five separate dressing rooms.

Trying on clothes had never felt so fucking good.

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