Skank

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Authors: Valarie Prince

Tags: #Contemporary, #Erotic Romance, #Ménage, #Interracial

BOOK: Skank
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When the ultimate goal is to divorce your husband…sometimes you’ve got to get creative.

 

 

A desperate woman invites three eager men to partake in an unconventional evening of debauchery and lust. However, her ultimate goal is her bid for freedom from a miserable marriage. She decides that being a Skank does come with a few advantages.

 

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

 

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Skank

Copyright © 2014 Valarie Prince

ISBN: 978-1-77111-837-8

Cover art by Latrisha Waters

 

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

 

Published by eXtasy Books

Look for us online at:

www.extasybooks.com

 

 

 

 

 

Skank

OPEN Anthology 2

 

 

By

 

 

Valarie Prince

 

 

 

 

Dedication

 

 

This work is dedicated to every person who wants to know what good love feels like.

 

Chapter One

 

 

Carmen was so tired of living a lie. Born dirt poor into a family that was the poster child for modern dysfunctional, she’d always heard her mother stress that her ticket out of this corner of hell was to marry a man with money…a lot of it.

She never forgot her mother’s sage, lopsided advice, and now, many years later, Carmen stood in her New York penthouse overlooking the landscape of the city. She pulled in a deep, cleansing breath. She had accomplished all her goals except one. Her freedom.

Kennedy Powers had been the man of her dreams, her ticket out of hell. Now he was the monster in her living nightmare. He was cool, financially strong, and wore the face of an angelic savior in public. But behind closed doors, he had the contorted evil visage of a real demon—her husband, her dictator, her only obstacle to her freedom.

He was a successful real estate broker with a warped taste for dominance and brutality. Carmen had known rough men in her life, but Kennedy was a whole other level. As his wife, she had experienced the madness more than most.

Once, early in their marriage, she had approached him with the idea of ending their marriage. He had grabbed an old newspaper, rolled it up, hit her upside the head like a dog and then went on to beat her to within an inch of her life. He had grunted and shouted that he would see her dead before she ever had the chance to walk away from him. The humiliation of that beating still clung to her like wet toilet paper.

She shivered at the window now, remembering the words he had hissed in her ear. “You, Carmen, are nothing without me. You represent a great investment of time and training. You are a status symbol of my achievements in life.”

She shook off those words and composed herself. After six years of physical, emotional and verbal abuse, she knew Kennedy would never let her go unless he had a damn good reason to. Carmen had decided the only way to escape her husband was with the only weapon she possessed—a woman’s revenge.

“Carmen,” Kennedy called. “I see you have been behaving yourself this week.” He glanced at her. “You’re wearing the dress I placed out for you.”

Inspecting her appearance in the mirror, Carmen thought the dress he chose was beautiful, but it wasn’t her. It clung to her abundant curves and overly showcased her large breasts. But that was how he preferred her clothed, like a trophy wife, his private playground for other men to ogle and envy.

Slowly, she grabbed a few spin pins and twisted her shoulder length hair into a loose, messy French roll. Looking at him through the mirror, she replied, “Yes, I wanted to make you happy. The dress is lovely.” She actually sounded sincere when she recited the words. The very sight of him made her nauseous.

“Good. Is all ready for my party tomorrow? I want everything to be perfect. As you know, I’ve invited some very influential people. I must make a splendid impression.”

Suddenly he was standing directly behind her in their full length mirror. She met his hard stare in the reflection. He waited for her to finish pinning up her hair, then tangled his fist in it. He grinned when she winced and finished, “I hope I can count on you to be a charming hostess.”

Carmen burned with fiery rebellion but cooled her features and tentatively said, “I will be everything you want and so much more, Kennedy.”

He reached for his suit jacket. As he straightened up, he gave her twisted hair a hard tug and crushed his mouth to hers. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He slipped on his jacket and walked out of their bedroom. Carmen swiped her hand across her mouth to wipe away his foul kiss.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

The following evening, the cocktail party was in full swing. People were everywhere—mingling, laughing and truly enjoying themselves. Carmen thought if she took anything away from her marriage with Kennedy, it was how to throw a successful party.

Everyone who was anyone was in attendance. She saw a few familiar faces from other parties—some of high society’s elite power players.

There was Richard Floyd, prominent divorce attorney to the stars. Maximus Armstrong, world renowned plastic surgeon to the rich and famous. And, of course, the unmistakably handsome Simon Cantor, international playboy and jet setter.

It was whispered in certain circles that Simon’s wealth was the by-product of some very creative blackmailing on the part of his mother, who was rumored to have been the mistress of an American president who'd had a weakness for beautiful women with exceptional skills at giving head. These men moved in spheres that Kennedy desired to be a part of. Their connections were lucrative and for him, they were his passport to the next level.

For Carmen, they were her ticket to freedom. Slowly, she made her way to her first accomplice, Richard.

“Are you enjoying the party, Richard?” She gave a warm, seductive smile.

He returned it and said, “So far I can’t complain. Lawsuits and divorce must be trending at the moment. Some of these people tonight are so desperate, I’m sure I’ll have a few new clients on Monday.”

A soft hint of a laugh bubbled up from Carmen. “I noticed you’re not married. Is it because of your work?”

“Yes and no. I’m too much of a freak to settle down with just one woman. It wouldn’t be fair. It’s best I remain single so I can sample all the pussy I want without requiring the use of my own legal services.”

Carmen sensed Richard was exactly the kind of man to appreciate a good, freaky fuck. She remembered all the other parties she’d attended with Kennedy and how she’d always felt Richard’s eyes devouring her.

If she was lucky, he would get the chance to do more than just devour with his eyes. She flashed her most provocative smile. “If you like a little spice and adventure in the bedroom, there will definitely be some fireworks just behind that door in about an hour.”

Richard slowly lifted his wine glass to his lips and cocked his left eyebrow. “Discretion is my middle name.”

Carmen gave him a sly wink and moved on to her next challenge, Maximus.

After working the room as the hostess for another ten minutes, Carmen casually approached Maximus Armstrong. She replaced his empty glass of scotch with a filled one. “I see you came unescorted. I was sure an attractive man such as you would have a date.”

He accepted the drink, took a pull from his electric cigarette and frowned. “I don’t have time to date, and the only woman who gets me off lately is my work. Too many times I get with a woman and when she finds out what it is I do for a living, instantly two things happen. One—she starts imagining herself as the next Mrs. Armstrong, and two—she’s begging me for a discount on her next nip-tuck.”

“So it’s been a while for you, huh?” Carmen asked.

Maximus paused a moment to think about it. “Let’s just say, I wouldn’t turn down any right about now.”

She leaned in as if to convey her sympathy for his situation and whispered, “Well if some easy, uncomplicated pleasure would restore your good mood, in about forty-five minutes, just behind those double doors on the second floor, a buffet of fucking will be waiting for you. Of course, discretion will be mandatory.”

Maximus tossed back his scotch, took a hard pull from his e-cigarette and nodded. “I can hardly wait.”

Carmen took the good doctor’s second empty glass, flashed him a naughty smile and eased on to the final puzzle piece to her freedom, Simon.

 

* * * *

 

Oddly enough, Simon Cantor had been covertly watching Carmen all evening. He had seen her at many social functions with her husband over the years. But tonight he sensed there was something different about her. Something was happening. It was how she was moving through the crowd of party goers—especially the more notably single male guests in attendance.

There was also the way she seemed to always hesitate whenever she approached her husband. From his observation, it appeared almost as if she was afraid of him. He’d often wondered what the attraction between the two of them was. It was obvious to him that Kennedy didn’t appreciate his wife and had ignored her most of the evening.

He’d even watched as Kennedy almost pushed her down when he charged over to greet one of his other guests. The man, in Simon’s opinion, was a shitty excuse for a husband. Now, as he watched Carmen’s voluptuous pendulum hips swing in his direction, he had a feeling the mystery was about to be revealed.

“I was wondering when you’d make your way to me.” He leaned against the wall, nursing a short shot of cognac.

She stepped into his personal space and said, “Well, this is a rather large party, Simon. Besides, you looked to be otherwise engaged with the redhead over there.”

He followed her glance to the delicious beauty mingling with other party goers while simultaneously eye fucking him from across the room. He sighed. “Just killing time, Carmen. Just killing time.”

“So she’s not your date?”

“No, but she’d love to be. Or better yet, she’d love to fuck me.” He pulled his eyes from the redhead and focused them squarely on Carmen.

 

* * * *

 

When she was locked in the heated gaze of his hazel eyes, Carmen tossed out a sassy smile. “Are you saying you’re not interested?”

He openly devoured her luscious curves and swells. “I’m interested in fucking,” he threw back his shot of cognac in one gulp and finished, “just not in fucking her.”

The final piece had just landed in her lap. “Well, if fucking is what you’re in the mood for, in about fifteen minutes there will be some hot and heavy fucking going on in that room over there. If you can assure me that you know how to keep a secret, then what awaits you behind those doors will be well worth your time.”

Simon surrendered his empty glass to Carmen. As she reached for it, he caught her wrist in a firm grip and whispered, “Nothing excites me more than a mystery. I’ll be there.”

Carmen stepped back, turned to leave, and over her shoulder gave Simon a smoldering look she knew would tell him he wouldn’t be disappointed.

Carmen embraced her hostess duties with grace, style and flare. She kept multiple conversations going with several guests while closely watching the clock. She made a point to make the rounds of the party another two times before finally approaching her husband. “Sweetheart, I know you’re busy, but I must speak with you.”

 

* * * *

 

Kennedy hated it when Carmen interrupted him. Later tonight he’d have to remind her of the rules again for when he was conducting important business at his parties. Maybe a split lip and a few bruised ribs would encourage her to remember them for next time. He turned with a plastic smile and said, “Yes, Carmen. What is it?”

“I need to go upstairs and change my dress. A few of our zealous guests bumped into me and spilled their drinks all over me. I smell like a brewery. I’ll only be gone for a short while. I wanted you to know where I was if you needed me.”

She had the nerve to disturb him over something as trivial as a silly, smelly dress? He knew right then that bruised ribs and a busted lip would not get the job done. He’d have to break a bone to ensure that she never bothered him with dumb-ass shit like this ever again. He choked down his rage. “Fine. Just hurry back.” He turned his attention again to his honored guests.

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