Pretty Dirty Trick
A Rich Bitches Novel
Tabatha Kiss
Copyright © 2018 by Tabatha Kiss
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This novel contains explicit descriptions of erotic and sexual acts that some may find offensive, including perverse adult language.
All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual.
Reader discretion advised.
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Contents
Also by Tabatha Kiss
Pretty Dirty Trick
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
The Bitches Will Return In…
Dear Reader
Pretty Little Thing
2 in the PINK
Hot Sauce
Also by Tabatha Kiss
About the Author
Also by Tabatha Kiss
RICH BITCHES SERIES
Pretty Little Thing
Pretty Dirty Trick
Pretty Ever After
SWEET CRAVINGS SERIES
Sugary Sweet. Sinfully Dangerous.
Stand-alone Romances.
Muffin Top
Hot Sauce
THE SNAKE EYES SERIES
Stand-alone romances. Interconnecting stories.
One unforgettable adventure!
Bodyguard
The Hitman’s Dancer
Love and Wargames
Bloodlines
Hard Bounty
No Fury
THE BAD BALLER BOOKS
Irresistible Stand-alone Sports Romances!
Whiplash
Johnny Deeper
Home Run Baby
THE MIDWEST ALPHAS TRILOGY
Romance, Suspense, and MMA!
Untouched
Unbroken
Undying
STAND-ALONE ROMANCES
Bad boys, billionaires, and so much more!
Blind Girl
Ruin Me
Lumberjack BOSS
Old Habits
2 in the PINK
For more, go to tabathakiss.com
Pretty Dirty Trick
By Tabatha Kiss
I had one job.
Stand up tall, look pretty,
And don’t fall for the lawyer trying to put my father in prison.
I had one. fucking. job.
I’ve always had a thing for the forbidden guy.
So, I shouldn’t have been surprised by the rush of blood to my cheeks the moment I laid eyes on Lance Tyler, Attorney at Law.
Tall, handsome. A jaw chiseled from solid rock. Wicked smart — and not just street smart. He could triple word score me all night long if you know what I mean.
But any primal urge I have instantly goes cold when I remember why I entered his office in the first place.
My father is in jail. Lance wants to keep it that way.
Sleeping with the enemy isn’t my style but Lance has a few urges of his own.
One touch. One kiss. One night with him… and I’ve completely lost myself.
No man has ever wrecked me like this before.
But it feels so good.
I’m your dream girl
this is real love
but you know what they say about me…
that girl is a problem
-Natalia Kills
One
Trix
Dammit.”
Not again.
I look out my bedroom window at the busy Chicago street below. Cars and pedestrians hustle by, either to work or church or shopping or whatever it is normal people want to do with their Sunday mornings. Not my problem nor my business in any case — except for the tall man lingering on the corner outside of his black car, leaning against the hood and staring at my goddamn front door.
Marcus.
His dark head tilts upward as if he feels me staring at him. I twist away behind my curtains to avoid his eyes. My apartment is on the fifth floor, so I doubt he saw me but then again, it’s his job to know exactly which window to look at.
He’s my family’s bodyguard. And my fuck buddy. Former fuck buddy, I should say, but Marcus hasn’t quite got that little detail into his thick skull yet.
I stomp my heel. “Go the fuck away,” I mutter to myself, needlessly waving my hands to banish him.
I take another quick peek through the curtains and heave a thick sigh at him. He’s not going anywhere. He’s going to stand there until I come outside and I’ll have to once again tell him how so very not interested I am in him or his cock he so delightfully keeps sending me unsolicited pictures of.
I don’t have time for this shit.
I grab my black denim jacket and throw it on over my peach tube top and blue jeans. If Marcus isn’t going to let me walk out my front door undisturbed then I’m going to have to find another way out of here.
With my small purse clenched between my teeth, I throw open my kitchen window and climb outside onto the fire escape. Before I can even tell myself not to, I stupidly gaze downward at the alleyway below. My nose recoils from the stench of trash, oil fumes, and other shit but it’s either this or talk to Marcus.
I’ll take the other shit.
I slam the window closed behind me and start my slow trek down the ladder. Heels were a bad idea in hindsight but at least I’ll look good when I get down there. Assuming I don’t fall and kill myself in the process but that’d still be a better alternative than enduring yet another awkward encounter with Marcus “Do you like that, baby?” Donner, my father’s favorite errand boy.
Sure, it was fun at the start. Two silly teenagers doing silly things behind my family’s backs. Sneaking off to the abandoned campgrounds while my half-brothers launched firecrackers at each other on the Fourth of July. Hooking up after the homecoming game and on prom night and the day before he got shipped off to
basic training and… okay, again when he got back and then again when he came home from Afghanistan and yeah, sure, we had sudden bursts of silly sex-having fun over the nearly ten years he’s been my father’s full-time bodyguard.
But it was just sex. Fun, silly, no strings sex.
Or so I thought.
When we were young(er), Marcus knew how to take no for an answer. He’d shrug his broad shoulders, turn around, and snap his fingers like The Fonz. Some eager girl within earshot would look up all misty-eyed and she’d drop to her knees for him. Hell, he could still do that easily. He’s got that tall, dark, and handsome thing going for him but there comes a time in a girl’s life when sneaking around with the bad boy just ain’t that fun anymore.
It’s usually around the time her father gets thrown in jail for criminal conspiracy to commit murder.
What can I say? Girl stuff can be complicated sometimes.
I release my grip on the ladder, letting gravity take me the rest of the way down into the alley. It’s only a couple of feet but I just barely stay upright on my wobbling heels as they clack with the concrete. My balance returns to my limbs and I hightail it out of the dirty alleyway to find a cab while slipping on a pair of black sunglasses to hide my shame. No way I’m risking going to my car with Marcus parked right outside my building’s private garage.
It’s a quick ride through the city to Moira’s Cafe, the one happy place I still have in my hectic life right now. Hot and delicious breakfast, cold and sweet mimosas, and my two best friends in the entire world, Nora Payne and Melanie Rose. It’s where we go to leave our troubles behind, vent our frustrations, and just be there for each other through thick and thin.
And right now, my life is a little on the thick side.
I pay my driver and step out onto the curb, eagerly wading through the passing crowd to make it into the cafe. As I step inside, I take a deep breath, letting the very smell of the place start its loving, soothing embrace in me. I’m here. I made it past Marcus’ annoying, watchful eyes. Just a few more breaths and I’ll forget all about him.
I walk through the entryway where two hostesses stand, one with their back to me as she folds a few napkins.
“Good morning!” the other says, stopping me. “Do you have a reservation?”
I laugh as I slide my sunglasses off. “You must be new here.”
The other hostess spins around with the sound of my voice and gently bumps the other girl out of the way. “I’m sorry, Ms. Argento, you can go on in. Your party is waiting,” she says with an apologetic smile.
The new girl’s face turns pure white.
“That’s all right.” I wave a hand. “Don’t sweat it, hun.”
Her smile inches back up as I continue through the restaurant. I tune an ear backward to catch the tail end of their conversation.
“That’s the one I told you about!”
“Oh, god. I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”
“Didn’t you recognize her?”
“She was wearing sunglasses!”
A little bit of fear, a little bit of awe, and a whole lot of respect. That’s the reaction the Argento family always gets. Or it was until my father got arrested and the spotlight on my family became less about our contributions to the community and more about murder and mafia conspiracy.
But that’s a problem for Tomorrow Trix.
Today Trix is about to get drunk.
I round the corner and weave my way through the restaurant toward our table in the back. I hear Nora first, her tiny voice just barely reaching over the soft rumble of others nearby. Melanie is to her left, sitting back in her chair in full listening mode with her arms folded over her chest and her eyes soft on Nora’s worried face.
“It’s a little weird, right?” Nora asks.
Melanie scratches the back of her dirt-brown head. “No, that’s just guy stuff, Nor.”
“Are you sure?”
I stop by the table, grab the first untouched mimosa off the center, and down it with a few long, hard gulps. Juice and bubbles blend in my throat, surging all the way down to rest in the pit of my stomach. Warmth spreads out into my limbs. It’s a good start but we’re gonna need a lot more of these.
When I set the empty glass down, both pairs of eyes are locked on me.
“Hey, guys.” I lower into the last empty chair. “Please continue,” I gesture at Nora.
She raises a brow. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
A fresh tray of mimosas appears in front of me and I flash a wink to the blessed server for his impeccable timing.
“And a thank you to you, kind sir,” I say as I grab one.
“Thanks, Roger,” Nora says, her eyes barely leaving me. “Seriously. Trix. Are you okay?”
I glance at him as he walks away. “Are you ever gonna tell us how you know that guy?”
“It’s a… long story.”
“Fair enough.” I take a quick sip before answering. “I had to leave my place via fire escape this morning.”
Melanie leans forward. “And you have my attention.”
“At what point does mild infatuation become creepy stalking?” I ask.
“The second it makes you uncomfortable,” she answers. “Is Marcus still bothering you?”
“Yes. I’m starting to consider hiring a bodyguard to fend off my bodyguard. It’s ridiculous. I can’t live like this anymore. Every morning, he’s there, waiting outside my door, wanting to talk to me. Every night, he’s blowing up my phone, wanting to talk to me — but we all know he doesn’t just want conversation, ya know what I mean?”
Nora nods. “Can you get a restraining order?”
“Easier said than done,” I say. “If I did that, I’d have to distance myself from my entire family, too. That’s the last thing I want, especially since I’m joining the business soon.” I exhale, shaking my head. “Anyway, I don’t even want to think about it right now. What’s going on with you, Nora?”
“Well…” Nora sighs. “I’ve never lived with a man before.”
I chuckle. “Trouble in Clive-a-dise already?”
“Not trouble. Just…” She bites her lip. “Okay. So, obviously, I asked Clive to move in with me on account of him being… you know… homeless.”
“Right.”
“And I was honestly a little happy about the homeless thing because I really like my place the way it is and I didn’t like the idea of a man’s stuff clashing with mine but since he has no worldly possessions, it’s not a problem.”
I squint. “So, what’s the problem?”
“He has no stuff!” she says, her eyes twitching with panic.
I look at Melanie. “What am I missing here?”
“About three more mimosas,” she quips from the edge of her mouth.
Nora huffs. “He has no stuff, so he has to use all of my stuff.”
I nod. “Ah, it all comes together.”
“My shampoo, my combs, my towels, my coffee mugs.”
“Wait, you don’t like him using your coffee mugs?” Melanie asks, laughing.
“I’ll admit, it had its cuteness at first,” Nora says. “I mean, how many times have you seen a six-foot-tall muscular Adonis sipping out of a hot pink mug that says boss lady on it?”
I snort. “Daddy’s awesome.”
“Anyway, I’m dragging him out this week to pick up some new stuff.”
Melanie tilts her head. “Thus fulfilling the horrid prophecy of him bringing a bunch of his man stuff into your place and clashing it with yours,” she points out.
Nora nods. “Yes.”
“So, you basically created a problem because you don’t like to share?”
She pauses. “… Yes?”
Melanie turns in her chair to look at me. “Okay, back to you.”
“Nuh-uh,” I say, forcing down a belch. “Not me. Let’s do you.”
She shrugs. “I got nothing.”
“Not nothing. How’s your new book coming along?” I ask.
“It’s…” Her voice fades into a long, barely audible growl. “Not.”
Nora throws on a sympathetic face. “I’m sorry, Mel.”
“It’s fine,” Melanie says. “It’ll get there. Eventually. Someday. Probably. Just seems like every book lately is harder to write than the one before it and I can’t figure out why.”
I glance at Nora, locking eyes with her. “Well…” I say slowly, “maybe this is just your brain’s way of telling you to take a break. Maybe take that cruise vacation you’ve been talking about for years?”