The Bitches in the Basement

By Ashleigh Lake

Told from the perspective of three different people in a sexually charged triangle, The Bitches in the Basement is an intensely explicit exploration of temptation, expectation and infidelity.
Set against the status seeking backdrop of New York City, the three-storey brownstone on the Upper East Side has become a sexual war zone with the lines clearly drawn between the three sexy socialites living in the main house, and the two slutty bad girls living in the basement apartment.

Caught in the middle is Luke Prescott, political protege, and conflicted fiancé of blonde beauty Kendra Mercer, who can’t seem to stop fantasizing about the dirty girls downstairs, especially the sex kitten with the killer curves, Cady Lane, who makes no apologies about going after what she wants.
At the same time, Kendra is tired of playing by the rules and being the perfect society girl, and harbors some kinky desires of her own. When the right kind of bad boys show up on the scene with intentions of seducing the bride-to-be, chaos ensues.
Tricks, deception, and dirty sex games abound in this wild modern tale that shamelessly taps into some of our most basic desires and instincts. Just who are the players and who are the pawns? The only thing that’s certain is that when it comes to the playground on Brentwood Street, lust overrides logic, and nothing is as it seems.
Word Count: 50,000+ words
Rated: Hardcore / Explicit

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lush Stories
• Release date: Jun 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301108718

Ashleigh Lake

Ashleigh Lake is an up-and-coming author of erotic fiction. While her passion for writing began as a child, and also includes dramatic fiction and non-fiction pieces, her interest in erotica and bringing the voice of the modern twenty-something woman to the genre inspired her to continue her pursuits of writing highly explicit tales of scandal, intrigue and sexual mis-adventures. Her stories are tales of inner urges and dirty desires played out by real, relatable female characters that are willing to risk it all to get what they want. 'Good girls gone bad' and irresistible alpha bad boys are trademarks of many of her stories, which often include multiple twists and turns along the way. Some of her short stories have received Editor's Pick acknowledgements and received awards in international erotica writing competitions. You can find out more about Ashleigh at www.ashleighlake.com

Book preview

The Bitches in the Basement

By Ashleigh Lake

Copyright © 2013 Ashleigh Lake

Cover Photo Rights Licensed © 2013 David Lace (www.davidlace.com)

Smashwords Edition

The rights to this story are owned by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author.

This book contains works of fiction. The characters and situations are products of each author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

License Notes: This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold, or given away to people.

Lush Publishing is a division of www.lushstories.com, the adult social network for erotica lovers.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Luke’s Story

Kendra’s Story

Cady’s Story

The Aftermath

Conclusion

Prologue

Her nails gleamed fire engine red under the hot summer sun.

Such a pretty little thing.

Such a dirty little mouth.

Such a devious little mind.

She tucked the note into the white envelope and left a kiss upon the crisp fold like her own wax seal. The imprint of her cherry lips was a signature calling card, heralding trouble ahead. It was wrapped with the package and set aside for a trip to the post office later.

She smiled to herself, leaning back into the lounge chair and stretching her curves.

Life was good on Brentwood Street.

Luke’s Story

The parties that went on at 71 Brentwood Street were legendary. When Luke Prescott received the invitation email by Blackberry during his final year at NYU, he had high expectations. The house was a three-storey brownstone on the Upper East Side, and was being rented by three of the hottest girls on campus.

Kendra, Lacey and Chloe were commonly referred to on their social scene as ‘The Babes on Brentwood.’ He had seen them making the rounds and knew they were a sought after presence at many a Manhattan party and society event. While thoroughly intrigued, Luke had always been far too intimidated to ever talk to them on his own. Although tall, athletic and attractive in a preppy sort of way, he had always been more of an academic than a party animal. In fact, he initially suspected that it was his prestigious surname that had gotten him his first invitation to the exclusive and highly anticipated Halloween bash on Brentwood.

That year, his father had run for senator, and coming from a very wealthy, politically influential family, the Prescott name had been in the newspapers on a regular basis. In fact, he had noticed a surge in his own popularity along with it. Not that he was complaining. He was definitely not going to pass up an opportunity to socialize with the society types that his father was always encouraging him to get involved with. The membership to the country club, the keys to a brand new Range Rover and the pressure to complete his political science doctorate had already begun to successfully steer Luke in the direction his family preferred. And meeting the right people had always been high on their list of importance.

Marry a beautiful, sophisticated woman, his father, Elliot Prescott, had urged him. One with class, and from good breeding, that you can trust to stand by your side. If you’re going to run for political office one day, then you can’t afford mistakes when it comes to your social life. You’d better think with your head… His father didn’t have to finish the words ‘rather than your dick,’ as it was already implicitly implied.

Luke often rolled his eyes at the suggested pressure of his father’s words. Yet when he met Kendra Mercer at the party on Brentwood, dressed in the sexiest angel costume he had ever seen, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been conjured directly from his father’s imagination. Kendra was an art history major, and her family was well connected in New York. She was tall, and WASPy with model looks and a silver tongue that was well adept at charming even the most jaded skeptic. She had spotted him almost immediately after he’d arrived, and made all the efforts to show she was more than interested in getting to know him better. It had almost been too easy and suddenly Luke had become the man of the hour on campus. Everyone wanted to know who he was and how he’d managed to land the debutante princess of NYU.

There was an immediate kind of appeal to the type of woman Kendra was, and for the first few years of their relationship it was impossible for Luke to take his mind or his eyes off her. Her champagne blonde ponytail would swing behind her as he admired her willowy frame in her crisp tennis whites as she confidently held her own against Luke, who’d always been well skilled on the courts. She had a gorgeous ass, long legs, and a face like a porcelain doll. What was there not to love? Plus she had the kind of upbringing that ensured that she knew how to play the game perfectly. There were no scandalous skeletons in her closet or questionable gossip about her around town. She was quintessential marriage material, especially according to his family. They were immediately impressed with Kendra and had urged him into an engagement, probably a little sooner than he would have preferred.

While Kendra was an effortless image of carefully crafted perfection in public, as the years of their relationship wore on, she began to develop a bit of attitude behind the scenes. It was clear that she was well aware of her worth, often reminding Luke of this when he was put off by her bossy nature. Shortly after he’d put the four carat Harry Winston on her finger, she became more demanding and easily frustrated by his preference to spend weekends relaxing at home rather than working the New York social scene and staying, as she liked to call it, ‘relevant.’

You’re making us a boring couple, she whined to him on yet another Friday evening. We should be networking, and meeting the right people and staying on Page Six, she said, referring to the highly coveted society pages.

She looked forlornly towards her roommates, Lacey and Chloe, who had spent the last three hours getting their hair and make up done and squeezing themselves into their Herve Leger bandage dresses. Kendra’s expression was unmistakably resentful as she eyed Luke with frustration the way she often did when she didn’t get her own way.

Hey… feel free to go hang with them, Luke said amiably, putting his feet up on the leather ottoman. I think that the Babes on Brentwood should have a night out together, anyway.

In truth, all Luke really wanted to do was go home, and maybe watch some dirty porn and fall asleep. He was exhausted from interning at his father’s campaign office and had no desire to play social games in some trendy nightspot while engaging in mindless conversation with strangers. It had never been his thing, and while he could suck it up when it came to family and work affairs, he preferred to avoid that scene when he could. He also knew that Kendra thrived and was in her element at those events and he anticipated the usual blow up.

Right on cue, Kendra scowled.

"But I want to be with you."

He pulled her against him and kissed her pretty pouting lips. Then stay home with me. We can have some fun tonight.

His hand began to slide slowly up her thigh, and she quickly rolled her eyes and pulled away. Fuck this, he thought, inwardly angry at the way she seemed to be constantly putting off his advances more and more. He was engaged to a girl that looked like a Victoria's Secret supermodel but who often found sex messy and unless she was in precisely the right mood, mostly unnecessary, especially now that she had that diamond sparkler on her left hand.

You’re always obsessed with sex, she said to him, the way she always did by turning things around and making him sound like some kind of pervert.

Well, it is kind of what people do when they’re in a relationship, isn’t it?

He almost said ‘married’, but silently cringed at the looming fear that once the deed was signed, Kendra would morph into an asexual socialite wife just like all his friends had been warning him for years.

I just need a little more effort from you sometimes, she told him, standing up and running her hands through her long silken blond locks as though preening in front of an imaginary mirror. You know, it’s not just about grabbing my leg and ripping my clothes off and expecting me to be hot and heavy and ready to go. You know, you really could be a bit more attentive that way. Maybe light some candles and put on some music and you know… romance me a bit.

He sighed.

Tell you what, she said, her eyes lighting up as though she’d negotiated her own perfect solution without bothering to consult him. I’ll go out with the girls tonight, but tomorrow night I’m all yours. Maybe you can surprise me with a hot little seduction scene.

Right.

She leaned in to kiss him softly, but it was still undeniably dismissive. He waited for a while before leaving for the night, listening to the clattering of stilettos in the bedrooms above and the peels of laughter and constant giggling. He took note of her obvious enthusiasm at getting ready for a night out with her sorority sisters. She was energized and vivacious, whereas when she was alone with him, she often seemed distinctly mellow and sedated. Has she ever been that enthusiastic about me? he wondered, again feeling distinct trepidation about their future nuptials.

Begrudgingly, he grabbed his car keys and headed outside. The heavy August humidity hung in the air and he was just opening the door to his Range Rover when he saw her. Cady Lane. She was one of the two girls that lived in the basement apartment of the house on Brentwood, or as Kendra often referred to them as, ‘The Bitches in the Basement.’

Hi Luke, Cady drawled as she lugged the trashcan out to the curb, with her trademark sarcastic grin that always seemed to come across as slightly flirtatious. Or maybe that was just the way he had always preferred to see it. Transfixed, Luke hung by the side of his car door, his eyes eagerly taking her in.

Cady was one of those girls that could only be described as painfully hot; the kind that screamed sex even at first glance. Her body was voluptuously curvy with full breasts and a round ass and an impossibly tiny waist. She had long wavy chocolate brown hair and bright green eyes and a pretty face that seemed more sexy than classically beautiful. She was just imperfect enough to make her the ideal object of lust. The kind of girl that inspired men to want to grab those fleshy hips, bend her over at the waist and fuck senseless.

It was obvious that she would not be the type to make a fuss about messing her hair up or feeling objectified or degraded by a carnal libido. Cady always gave the distinct impression that she was up for anything. Because of that, she had starred in many of Luke’s masturbatory fantasies over the years.

He made a move to help her with the trashcan but then he had second thoughts and paused. There was something delicious about watching Cady’s body trying to maneuver the awkward object, her ass straining against the impossibly tight pink gym shorts that fit snug and low over her hips. She wore a cropped white tank top and his cock began to stir as he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra.

It’s damn hot out tonight, isn’t it? she grinned as she moved past him. He watched her until she was at the end of the driveway. As she leaned over to tie the garbage bag, he caught a glimpse of the sexy tattoo on her lower back. He could almost hear Kendra’s voice in his ears. How tacky, his fiancée had said more than once. Tramp stamps are for sluts.

Luke had never dated girls like Cady in school, but he had certainly fantasized about them often. There was something free and confident about her sexuality. There were no strategies or hidden motives behind her demeanor. Girls like Cady made no pretences about it; they just liked to fuck. Typically they wouldn’t look twice at a preppy guy like Luke, but sometimes he liked to imagine Cady was exhibiting a little more than just casual neighborly flirtation.

Tonight was no different as she slowly ambled up the driveway toward him. His eyes were fixed on the motion of her hips and the way her breasts bounced and jiggled under the thin white cotton tank top she wore. Her nipples were hard and jutted out obviously, and yet there was no air of self-consciousness about her at all. She seemed to enjoy the attention and obvious effect she had on him. Luke opened the door to partially hide his growing erection, feeling like a nervous schoolboy around her, as he often did.

So what are you up to tonight? she asked teasingly.

Just heading home. It’s been a long day.

No big plans tonight with Princess Kendra? she asked with a raised eyebrow. Her smile was undeniably flirty and Luke fought to try to keep his dirty thoughts in check.

Uh, no… Kendra’s going out with the girls.

Oooh, ‘The Babes on Brentwood’ are doing their society thing, of course. Coordinating their outfits and trying on their thousand dollar shoes. Sounds super fun. And then she laughed. I mean come on, let’s be real, Luke. That whole scene is boring as fuck. I seriously don’t know how you stand it!

He laughed along with her, but he kept one eye on the upstairs window to Kendra’s bedroom, hoping she wouldn’t look outside and notice he was still there talking to Cady, whom she’d always had open disdain for. Cady and her roommate were not Kendra’s kind of people and because of that, they were quickly dismissed as social outcasts and the kind of girls to be avoided at all costs.

Maybe you should come hang with us tonight, Cady said with a wink. Rayne just picked up some amazing weed. We’re going to roll a few joints, chill out, maybe get a little naked… You should join us.

His cock was rock hard, but he laughed dismissively. Nice. You know you really shouldn’t tease me like that.

Who said I was teasing? she asked innocently, her green eyes sparkling with mischievous intent.

There was a heavy silence between them, as Luke’s mind went into overdrive. Not that he could ever do anything about it. But just the idea of the invitation seemed to stall all sense of logic