Play Dirty By Sandra Brown Novels & Stories

"There is no such thing as losing with us, Puppeteer." "Yes, and we will set this deal with a handshake." "Deal! Then we set it in flesh. The black whore has been a most appropriate offering..." "True, but let us make sure that she is truly gone before we adjourn for the day," "Ah yes, the beauty of mixing pleasure with business... really, dirty business..." "Indeed, Mastermind... now, to pleasure."

' Mischa angrily hissed to herself while her eyes burning in flames locked on Narco. Eyebrows pulled down and face wrinkled in disgust, Klauss grimaced at his current situation. He was having trouble with the dirt that stuck to his clothes and body. The veins in his head, neck, and hands have popped out of anger. He wants to take a bath in boiling acid just to get rid of the extreme grossness he feels right now.

Hae-Jae barked, stepping in front of me. Sandra tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Oh, but it is. Imagine the headlines if certain people knew… imagine the whispers in church, in school, in every corner you try to hide in. Poor Anna, already stained once before, now again? People don’t forgive twice.” My blood ran cold. She knew. Maybe not everything, but enough to cut me open. “Get out,” Hae-Jae ordered, his voice dangerously calm. Sandra’s smile widened, as if she thrived on the fury she ignited. “Fine. But remember, secrets rot when you bury them. And I’m very good at digging.” She turned on her heel, her heels clicking like gunshots, and left the room.

Be honest, what’s the worst, filthiest thing you’ve ever done for money? I’ll give you a minute to think about that. Think very closely… Great, now I’ll tell you what mine is… sex. Filthy dirty sex where I was used like a whore and worse; it wasn’t even by a man. It was a woman. A powerful, rich woman who turned out to be exactly the kind of dirty fantasy my body had been craving for years.

From inside, Sandra’s voice rang out, sharp and irritated: “Can someone tell Brenda to stop sweeping the street outside our house like she owns the road? She’s been staring through the window for ten minutes straight!” Sure enough, Brenda was outside with her broom, moving dust from one side of the gravel road to the other, her eyes darting toward the house every few seconds. When she saw Gail and Aubrey step back inside, she smirked and muttered loudly enough for them to hear: “Families who air their dirty laundry should at least make sure it’s clean first.” Sandra stormed to the door and yanked it open. “Brenda! Sweep your jealousy somewhere else before I report you to the ward councilor f

Her high-pitched moans echoed beautifully in the quiet office. This was exactly what Mira lacked. The woman in front of me didn’t care about pride or dignity. Right now, Sandra belonged entirely to me, acting like nothing more than a bitch in heat. “I’m cumming,” she gasped, the wet, friction-filled sounds of her body filling the room. “Yes, give it to me, baby,” I growled, leaning up to bite hard on her earlobe. I drove my fingers in deeper, curling them upward. With one last, hard thrust of my hand, Sandra shuddered violently, her body tightening as she emptied her wetness all over my fingers.

He continued to drive up into me through the aftershocks prolonging the intensity until the sensitivity bordered on too much and then followed with a deep final thrust as the hot pulse of his release flooded into me adding to the thick mess already coating my inner walls. I collapsed forward onto him afterward still joined and the solid heat of his body beneath me kept the deeper sense of connection from fading too quickly yet the soft shift of weight near the foot of the bed told me the watcher had moved closer and the knowledge of those familiar eyes taking in the way my body still trembled around Elias made the fragile completeness crack with a sharper more immediate vulnerability. Elias’

“What is your business with my virginity? Maybe you should learn to stop poking your nose into other people's business. Then you will live long on earth. Mira pokes my hand, motioning for me to stop. I ignore her. Someone needs to tell him that. Who else but me? He acts all calm and saintly, like he knows everything, but I know what lurks behind that mask. Mira bends down, picking up the rose vibrator and stuffing it into her bag. I reach out, snatching it back from her.

Julian finished inside Ava as the sun began to rise. By 8 a.m. we were up again, fucking in the shower one last time before we had to start cleaning. We scrubbed the house frantically — changing sheets, wiping surfaces, airing out rooms — but the scent of sex lingered faintly no matter what we did. Ava helped, but her touches never stopped. A quick finger in the laundry room. A blowjob for Oliver while I loaded the washer. By early afternoon the house looked almost normal. But we were all still buzzing, bodies marked, eyes full of shared secrets.

Complaints, insults, excuses, frustration. “That asshole plays dirty.” “The ref was bought.” “We shouldn’t have lost like that.” I clench my jaw as I read, close the chat without thinking too much because I don’t want to stay there, don’t want to keep going over the same thing, don’t want to think about the game or him, so I set my phone aside and take a deep breath, trying to clear my head, even if it’s just for a while. Tonight I’m only going to do one thing, drink enough to not feel anything and leave early before it all becomes unbearable, no drama, no complications, not giving him more space than he already takes.