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Pizza From The Dumpster


I’ve never confused sex for love.

I’m not even sure I could even tell anyone what love is. To me, sex has always just been a way to keep moving forward. A way to put food in my stomach and to keep a roof over my head. A way to get what I want. But mostly? Sex is an escape. I love it like surfers love waves, like chef’s love food, like writers love books.  It’s who I am to the core. 

I remember when Vix, oh, sorry, Madame Vix, took me in and explained to me what she did for a living. She told me that I could live in an apartment all by myself with all the food, clothes, and things I could ever need or want. When I asked her how, she said as long as I went on a few dates each week and maybe slept with a couple of my clients if I so chose? Pfft. I jumped at the opportunity. 

Ok, I may have only been seventeen when she found me eating that freshly tossed, still warm cheese pie off the top of the dumpster in the back alley by Frank’s Pizzeria, but I was a wayward gal. And also? I’d been eyeing Frank’s for awhile and I knew that night they’d be tossing out the extra food that wasn’t eaten before they closed up for the night. I never understood why they cooked so much food every Wednesday only to throw it out. I may not have understood it, but I didn’t mind it, and I definitely wasn’t going to complain about it. 

As I mentioned before, my parents kicked me out of the house when they caught me screwing the gardener. What I hadn’t mentioned? Well, there’s so much, so I’ll give you a little bit at a time. It’s easier to digest that way. 

I remember it like it was yesterday even though it was just about ten years ago.

I was heading to the pool in my bikini and cover up when I passed my dad’s office. I normally just waltz past but my dad’s voice floated across the cold air that blasted from the constantly blowing central air system and made me slow to a stop just before the office door. I waited, holding my breath. 

“Yes, as per the terms of our agreement, you will have my daughter’s hand in marriage once she turns eighteen and her hymen will be intact.”

My eyebrows shot up and I almost burst through the door in indignation. There was no one else to whom he would be referring. I was his only daughter, unless he had some secret family out there that mom and I didn’t know about. Otherwise? It was me on the chopping block. Where the chopping block equalled an arranged marriage. What. The. Fuck. Also? Who says the word hymen anyway? Gross!

I slipped my flip flops from my feet and walked closer, pressing my ear close to the crack between the door and the jam. My bare feet didn’t make a sound on the cold, marble floor and my skin puckered with goosebumps all over. 

“Thank you, sir.” I heard a male voice reply. “I’ve seen your daughter, and from what I can tell so far, she will grow up to be a beautiful woman, perfect for the life I have planned for her.”

I scoffed softly, my face easily conveying my disgust. What a fucking asshole. I was seventeen for godssake. How old was he? Thirty? Forty? Sixty?

Fuck this, I thought. I scurried along, not wanting to hear anything else. It was my goddamned birthday weekend and my dad was giving me away to the highest bidder? As a virgin? We’ll see about that. 

I alternated swimming laps in the pool and sunbathing, wondering what the hell my life was turning into. I debated calling Stephanie, my best friend and neighbor, to tell her what was going on, but I didn’t want it getting back to my dad. I loved my bestie, but she had lips that flapped like a flag from a pole in the middle of a hurricane. I didn’t need my father finding out that I knew about his little scheme. Especially when I was planning on coming up with my own. 

The next day my mom was called into the hospital for an emergency surgery and my dad had to fly overseas for some last minute merger or acquisition meeting with some billionaire company or other.

It was also my seventeenth birthday.

The Devil & His Fallen Angel

I shook my head from my reverie. Ugh. My parents were such assholes. Thank God I didn’t need them anymore.

I was sitting at my desk scrolling through all of the membership applications that After Darke received since opening barely a week prior. Had it really been just last week? A mere six days ago that Grant waltzed back into my life completely uninvited and turned it upside down?

I had a business to run and he wanted me to fucking moonlight during the day as a business consultant who was actually a secretly hired escort. I was exhausted. I had only met with Jennifer that Tuesday and I was ready to go to bed and sleep for days. I guess it was better than the alternative. You know, dead.

I was actually kind of surprised that Grant hadn’t knifed me in the back when he kissed me. He probably needed me alive more than he desired to kill me. I guess time had lessened the effect of what I’d done. Yay me. 

I rolled my eyes and denied the next applicant I that popped up on my screen without even looking at it because I was so frustrated. I rubbed the bridge of my nose to relieve the tension there that always caused me headaches. 

The elevator doors that opened into my office swished open just then.  

“You look like you could use a drink.”

I looked up and, lo and behold, there stood the Devil himself. I gave up trying to find out how he managed to get past Joe and the rest of my security team. But, fuck, I was going to have to have a talk with Joe. If Grant kept getting past, who knows who else would decide to try to make an appearance. Thankfully, the last person I ever owed anything to was the man who stood across the room from me.

I sat upright and then settled back in my chair and crossed my legs. I closed my laptop and slid it to the side. Just because I owed him didn’t mean he had the right to invade half of New York City’s privacy. I kept a wary gaze on him while I motioned toward the bar. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” I murmured.

He raised a brow slightly and then made his way to the bar where he began mixing a set of drinks. The sleeves of his white button down were rolled up revealing strong, corded forearms. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone and his tie was hanging loosely around his neck as if the beast inside was tired of being confined to its leash all day. Grant’s usually perfectly moussed hair was a wild mess, evidence that he had been running his hands through it all day. His face looked drawn with the five o’clock shadow he sported accentuating his high cheekbones. He looked like he could use a drink as well. 

Grant looked wild, feral, and, as a result, he looked sexy as fuck. 

I closed my eyes briefly. I had to get a grip. No way was I going to go down that road. I was sure to get lost down some dark road to my eternal demise. 

Grant stalked over to my desk and placed a glass down on the coaster he placed down first. Little did he know I didn’t give two shits about condensation rings my desk. It was just a means to working. It was bulky and ostentatious. But, that was what people expected of me, so I gave it to them. I let them believe that I spent all my money on useless shit. 

Not saying a word, Grant walked around the giant hulk of wood and, what I could only describe as a graceful flop, he sank into the chair opposite me. 

I waited for him to get comfortable before even reaching for my glass. 

When he finally looked at me, he raised his glass in a silent toast. 

I gripped the cold tumbler and the condensation cooled my hand, which had gone clammy at his nearness. Why, was beyond me. 

We sipped.

He remembered.

I swallowed my surprise along with my taste of the most delicious Tom Collins I’d ever had and pretended his attentiveness didn’t shake me to my core. 

“I have a proposition for you.” He said while he watched my every movement. His face was unreadable. 

I sipped again before answering. 

“Oh?” Yeah. Real smooth there, Seductress of the Night. I mocked myself with the title the local media had given me. Not that I was trying to seduce Grant. Far from it, actually. But, I still felt self-conscious for a moment and I wasn’t really sure why. I was so confused.

Grant leaned forward, resting those sexy forearms on his knees, his drink dangling loosely between his slender fingers. Despite the soft, yellow lighting I liked to keep in my office — I couldn’t stand those damn bright white lights as they reminded me of harsh cold and betrayal and I couldn’t stand it’s glare — I could see the light dusting of hair on the backs of his hands. It reminded me of his strong chest pressing into mine, his chest hair so soft and yet tantalizingly scratchy against my breasts. I wanted to moan at the recollection. 

Damn my vivid memory. It was both a blessing and a curse. 

He sipped again, dipping his head down between his shoulders. He looked almost…shy. No, Grant wasn’t shy. And yet…

He looked up and I sucked in an audible breath at the look of hunger in his eyes. 

“I want to fuck you, Scarlet—“

“Okay—“ We both sat upright, equally stunned at my immediate reply. My eyes widened when the self satisfied smirk stole over his features. I could see the desire in his eyes circling the amusement like fire licking at the unsuspecting victim in front of it. Ready to burn it to the ground. Ready to completely and utterly destroy it. 

Despite the soft way Grant placed his empty glass down on my desk, it sounded as loud as a gunshot signifying that he was the one in control…that I was now his to command.

I didn’t say a word. All I could do was lower my gaze to the floor. It felt like my heart was going to beat straight out of my chest and bleed out in front of me on the floor. I literally began to pant like I’d just run a marathon and I could feel my core clench. 

Grant stood.

I heard his soft footfalls on the carpet as he walked around the desk to stand next to my chair. His hand came down on the back of my neck and his fingers dug into my hair.

“Has your safe word changed?” The words were soft, inquisitive, and almost pleading. I resisted the urge to look up into his eyes. I was afraid of what I’d see if I did.

I shook my head. 

“You need to say it.”

“My safe word hasn’t changed.” I managed to whisper.

“Mmm,” he hummed approvingly. “Good girl.”

My body thrummed with energy. The excitement leaked from between my lips in a whoosh of breath. 

“Place your hands on the desk in front of you and stand up.”

I did as I was told immediately. It was almost embarrassing how far away my chair rolled when the back of my knees hit the edge of my seat. Almost. 

Grant hummed his approval again. I wanted to feel that hum vibrating on my skin. 

“So eager, Scarlett?” He smoothed his hand down my back slowly, feeling every outline of the soft bumps of my spine through the cotton of my dark green dress. 

“Y-yes.” I stammered. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. Oh my god, why am I so ready to sign my life away to the Devil? My personal tormentor. I blamed it on my obsession with sex. That was it…it was my addiction and nothing else. 

“Tell me, Scarlet. Over the past decade, have you thought about me when you’ve fucked other men?” His voice was soft, cajoling. His hands deliberate and firm on my body, feeling, squeezing, and rubbing in tantalizing repetition. 

“I can’t remember the last time I had sex without thinking of you.” The unbidden words pushed passed my lips, which formed a horrified “O” after I realized what I’d said. Fuck. I felt tears prick my eyes and I wanted to laugh at the absurdity. What the hell was going on with me?

I stared at the pattern of the shiny wood grain that lay beneath my hands and held my breath. Grant didn’t say anything for a very long time. 

When the silence became unbearable I risked a glance over my shoulder.

What I saw nearly knocked me to the ground. I quickly averted my eyes, closing my eyes in regret. I shouldn’t have turned around. 

The spanking came hard and fast. I hadn’t even noticed that he pulled my skirt up and bunched it at my waist. 

I couldn’t help the surprised yelp it elicited. 

“Don’t turn around, Scarlett, or I will spank you again, and I won’t go as softly.” While he spoke, his hand rubbed my skin in soft, gentle circles, soothing the sting. 

“Y-yes, sir.” The words slipped out again. It was as if I couldn’t grasp what was happening, couldn’t quite understand. I was lost. I was hungry. I was exposed. And Grant was here to fill each and every need. I didn’t want it to be him but I couldn’t do anything but comply when his hand pressed between my shoulder blades and he shoved my torso down. The cool feel of the desk contrasted with the heat of my skin. 

Grant trailed his fingers down my back, over my bunched dress, and around the swell of my hip. His touch left a burning flame in its wake. 

“So perfect.” Grant murmured. My back arched at the words.

Those slender fingers dipped between my ass cheeks and brushed over that tight, sensitive pucker of my asshole and down into the juicy folds between my thighs. 

He sucked in a breath that made my scalp tingle and the hair on my arms stand up.

“You are more than ready for me, Scarlet, aren’t you?”

I was about to reply when he shoved his cock inside me.

My head arched back and I keened in instant pleasure. I didn’t even think about the fact that I was so focused on what he was doing to me, I never even heard him unbuckle his belt and pull himself out of his pants.

He bowed over me, his chest pressing into my back, holding me immobile on my desk. 

“Don’t come, Scarlet.” 

I was so far gone in those few moments that I could barely hold back. 

He pumped into me once. Twice. Three times. I moaned like a slut with every stroke. 

Grant pulled out all the way and I aimed my hips toward him, begging for him to take me. 

“I’d forgotten.” He rasped so softly that I  wasn’t even sure he said it. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t dare turn around. I knew what would happen if I did. 

Then again…

I turned my head to the side and I didn’t even make it halfway before his palm collided against my skin.


That was good.

His belt was out of his pant loops and fastened tightly around my wrists before I knew what happened. He was still behind me, his hands never leaving my body. He caressed and rubbed me in all the right ways and then he shoved my thighs apart so my legs were spread while I lay immobile beneath him. 


Grant walked around the desk so he was in front of me, still gripping his belt, holding it like a leash. I was his to command, to control. His pants hung loosely around his hips and his ramrod straight cock suspended from over top of them. His shirt was untucked and I wanted to see his abs so badly, but I didn’t dare ask. My mouth was salivating at the thought of tasting him again. It had been so long.

He tossed the belt over his forearm then grabbed my arms and slid me forward so that my face was right in front of his dick. I could see the pre cum beading at the tip and I licked my lips. 

Slender fingers slipped into my hair and rubbed my scalp. 

“So tense. So stressed.” He tsked softly. “But, so beautifully laid out for me to admire while I think about how I want to fuck you the most.” 

He pressed his hips forward and rubbed the warm, slightly wet tip of his cock on my lips. I opened them slightly and pressed my tongue forward to feel his softness. Eyes closed, I breathed deeply, loving the clean, male scent as it teased my nose. He smelled of warm sunshine and dirty sex. 

He slipped further into my mouth and my lips closed around him. I moaned, mouth full. My eyes squeezed shut and I willed the unexpected tears not to fall.

But, as he slid it deeper into my mouth and back out again, I realized it was already too late.


I threw my head back when I felt the warm, wet, softness of her tongue on the tip of my dick. It was always a toss up of what I liked better when I was with her because all of her was equally incredible. Nothing was ever sub-par, it was never just okay. It was always, always en pointe, perfectly spec-fuckin-tacular. The groan rumbled from my lips and I allowed myself to look down to see the vision before me. 

And damn, it was quite a vision. The soft lighting made her blonde hair glow while her head bobbed up and down. Her skin was porcelain. Her lips. Fuck. Her lips were swollen…so kissable.   

I held her head still and pressed deeper into her throat. She choked softly and the sound made my balls ache. The tears pouring from her eyes gave me sick, twisted pleasure.  She looked like the Devil’s perfectly fallen angel.

I came at the thought.

“Fuck!” I gasped on an inhale.

She hummed her approval and drank down every last bit as I emptied inside her mouth. I still held her head and when I saw her start to look up, I pressed it back down so her forehead rested on the desk. 

She was breathing heavily, her shoulders heaving. I raked my eyes over her shuddering form, resting on her quivering hips. As much as I knew I should have left at that very moment, I couldn’t deny myself just one more taste. 

I licked my lips when I came back around and saw her dripping down her thigh. I fell to my knees behind her. 

“Don’t come until I say so.”


Her response died as my hands rubbed from her knees and over the sensitive skin at backs of her knees and up to between her thighs. I tucked two fingers between her folds and scooped out her creamy goodness, immediately sucking my fingers clean. 

I shoved my face right where I wanted to and took a deep breath. I could already feel myself hardening again.

She whimpered and I felt her legs quivering against my cheeks. I finally stopped torturing myself and her and licked her from her clit to her ass hole. That tangy sweetness caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up and my jaw to tingle. I was almost ready to fuck her again. 



I was dead.

I had to be. 

There was no way this was real. 

No way that I was fucking Grant’s face with my pussy and groaning his name.

“Grant. Yes.”

I knew he saw my tears and I should have been horrified at the satisfaction in his eyes at seeing them, but I was more turned on that anything. I was sick. Twisted. There had to be something wrong with me.

My feet wobbled on my heels and I was thankful I could rest my body on the desk. My hands were still bound in front of me, the leather digging into my wrists. It felt so good to be completely at his disposal.

The feel of his tongue inside me drove me wild and my hands clenched. 

I was about to come but I held back the best I could. 

“Grant!” I gasped. “I can’t hold it!”

He stopped immediately and I wailed in disappointment. So close.

The smack! came as a surprise and I tossed my head back, my hair landing on my back and some covering my face, sticking to my lips. I blew out and struggled to stand. I needed to come so badly. 

“Stop.” The command came harsh but controlled. 

I immediately held still, half lifted. 

He stood and slid his hands over my hips and up my sides to grip my breasts. His fingertips tugged the neckline of my dress downward until my flesh spilled into his warm, waiting hands. 

I could feel the heat of his cock pressing against my thighs, against my slick flesh. 

“Is this what you want, Scarlet?” He circled his hips, rubbing himself against me. 

“Yes,” I whisper-whimpered. One of his hands slid around to my back where it found and gripped my hair, tugging my head back. 

“Yes?” He demanded, his voice dark and dangerous and his breath hot in my ear.

“Yes, sir.” I breathed.

“Good.” He slid all the way into me and I cried out. “Girl.” He praised, as he stood behind me. I risked a glance over my shoulder and seeing his head thrown back and his eyes closed, his face contorted in pleasure, was going to be etched into my mind forever. 

His thrusts gained speed and my bound hands fumbled their grip on the edge of the desk. 

“Now. Come.”

Having permission to finally let go brought more tears that were impossible to hold back. I didn’t have to hold it all together anymore. I could let go. 

I could be free.

I came screaming his name and trembling so hard the paperweight fell off the side of my desk along with all the papers underneath it. The decorative lamp crashed down next to it and shattered. 

He pulled out and came all over my bared ass. He just kept repeating “fuck” over and over again. 

I couldn’t help the smile that took over my face. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Shit. I was already crying. I turned my head and rested my forehead against my bicep, taking slow, deep breaths and trying to play it off as just an incredible, body shaking orgasm. 

Next thing I knew he had untied my hands and sat me down into my desk chair. 

He didn’t say a word when he saw my face streaked with tears silently tracking down my face. 

He didn’t look at me as he wove his belt back into the loops of his pants. 

Grant silently tucked his shirt in. 

The zipper closing resounded within my skull. 

The clanking of his belt buckle made my left eye flinch imperceptibly.

From the corner of my eye I watched him head toward the elevator. His perfectly impenetrable mask in place. 

He pressed the button and when the doors opened, he stepped in. He held the doors for a moment and looked at me then. 

“You may think you’ve changed, Scarlet, but you’re still the same woman, fucking someone because you’re told to do it. What does that make you?” 

I wanted to run over and beat him to a pulp. I could press a button and Joe would be there in an instant to take him out alive and then torture him and hide his body. At the same time, I wanted to run to him, drop to my knees and beg him to let me suck his dick again. Asshole.

“Hmm, Scarlet?”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out so I cleared my throat softly.

“Y-you’re whore.” I murmured, staring straight ahead at nothing. 

“Mmm. I like the sound of that. As I’ve said before. I own you. Next time I see you, you’ll be moving into my apartment until I get what I need from you. I’ll send a car for you tomorrow at eight. I have a feeling I’m going to want to fuck you in the morning.”

Then he was gone. 

I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or disappointed.