Dirty Little Secret (Dirty #1) (15 page)

Immediately, her breathing quickened. “Like what?”

I pulled our hands, together, to
her throat.

“Like the fact that you’re passionate and full of life,” I told her. “I can feel your pulse, right now. It’s racing through your veins, and there’s nothing cold about it.”

I slid our fingers down, slowly, to the bottom of her robe, then up, stopping mid-thigh.

“I can feel it here,” I said. “And I can see it in your eyes, and
in the rise and fall of your chest.”

On cue, she inhaled and exhaled deeply.

“Do you believe me?” I asked.

“Yes,” she gasped.

“If you want to stop, say so now.”

In response, she pulled our hands up a little further.  She wasn’t wearing any underwear, and I was pretty fucking pleased by that.

“Leave your hand there,” I said. “I’m going to undo your robe so I can watch.”

“So you can watch what?”

I gave her a wicked smile as I slipped my fingers into the knot at her waist, unfastened it slowly, and slid the fabric from her shoulders.  Her body was fucking amazing.  Soft curves in all the right places. 

I pushed her knees apart
and drank in the view with my eyes.  My cock strained against my pants in response to seeing her splayed out like that.

“So I can watch
you
show
me
where it feels good, baby-doll.” I drew her hand up, positioned it in just the right spot, and whispered, “Show me now.”

She obeyed without protest, opening herself wide, and running her fingers over her pussy in a smooth, rhythmic motion.  Her eyes
met mine for the first few moments, pulling me in, driving me crazy with the desire I saw there.  Then she started to get into it, and her lids slid shut.  Her breathing grew quicker, and she whimpered a little as her fingers sped up, too.

She reached for my hand, guided
it up to her eager pussy, and moaned when I refused to drive my fingers into her.  I watched as she found her clit, but I kept my fingers on the outside.  Even though I longed to tunnel into her perfect, wet pussy, I held back, letting her spiral around.  I left my thumb stay just on top, rubbing and pressing.  She grew hotter and hotter.  I could feel it under my hand, even from the outside.  Her hips twisted, matching her motions, and every breath she took was ragged.

“Cutter,” she gasped, and my name on her lips spurred me on.

“Come, baby-doll,” I said. “Not for me, but for yourself.”

Her free hand found my h
air, and her fingers clutched at it roughly as she found her release.

“Thank you,” she murmured into my hair.

“No one should ever take this from you,” I said thickly. “And I’d kill any motherfucker who tried.”

I pulled her to me, holding h
er as close as I could manage.

I want her
, I thought.
I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life
.

MELISSA

I felt good.  So good.  Liberated.  Like the last hour before Cutter, the one I’d been forced to spend with Danny, had been wiped away from me completely.

My rapidly beating heart was finally slowing in my chest, and I was regretful that the high had to wear off.

I could still feel Cutter’s hardness, pushing into my back. 

Shit. I’m being selfish, lying
here, and enjoying the aftereffects, while he’s left wanting.

Even though I’d just experienced one of the best orgasms of my life in a way that should’ve made my f
ace flame red, the thought of Cutter, wanting me so badly it was obvious through clothes
and
blankets, was enough to reignite the spark between my legs.

I waited for him to grab me, to push aside my robe
again, and to take what we both wanted.  But he just held very still, gripping me like he was drowning and I was his life raft.

He sighed.  His hand traced a gentle trail up my arms, warming them in the cool air. 

“Cutter?”

“Mmmhmm?”

“Are you all right?”

“You’re asking that again?” he teased.

“I can’t help it.”

“Baby-doll
, I’m a little bit better than all right.”

“Do you want to -“

He cut me off. “No.”

“No?”

He chuckled softly. “Not the answer you were expecting?”

“Not exactly,” I replied. “I was thinking maybe a hell, yes. Or at least a yes, ma’am.”

“Hell, yes, ma’am?”

“Exactly.”

He still didn’t reach for me, and I frowned.  I might’ve thought I was misreading him if it weren’t for the obvious physical indication that gave him away.

So why i
sn’t he all over me?

Cutter sighed and let me go.  My heart deflated.  But in only a moment, he grabbed my shoulder, rolled me over, and tilted my chin toward him with his finger.

“I’ve got a very good reason for resisting the urge to throw you down and fuck you senseless,” he said in his softest, sexiest voice. “And believe me…It’s pretty damned selfish.”

I was speechless, unable to decide if I was offended, or turned on.

Maybe with Cutter, it’s a bit of both.
The thought turned up my lips at the corners.

“Your smile makes me crazy,” he murmured, and ran his thumb along my lip.

I grinned wider. “Does it?”

“It does. And that’s why what I’m about to say makes me a little sick,” he stated. “Melissa, cover up and roll over so we can cuddle. Please.”

I laughed. “What if I won’t? Are you gonna make me?”

I was kidding, but I knew as soon as the words were out of my m
outh that I’d hit that sensitive subject again.  Cutter’s face grew serious.

“
I promise you, no matter what happens, it will always be because you want it to,” he said. “I won’t
ever
make you do anything you don’t want to.”

“I know.”

“Thank you, baby-doll.”  His voice was very nearly sweet.

“Dammit, Cutter.”

I rolled over quickly, not wanting him to see the ridiculous tears forming in my eyes.  Cutter draped an arm across my body, cupping my breast and resting his chin on the top of my head.  The gesture was possessive and familiar, like he’d done it a thousand times before and would do it a thousand times again.  A bubbling elation built in my heart and spread outwards.  It made my toes tingle. 

“Sincerity,” he said teasingly
, right into my ear. “Gets ‘em every time.”

I snorted, and wiggled back up into him, pleased when he exhaled a breath that was almost a moan.

“Are you going to elaborate on your selfishness?” I asked.

He was silent for a long moment.  When he did answer, it was in a quiet, rough voice.

“When we have sex, Melissa, I don’t want it to be in the shadow of some asshole who made you bleed and cry. I don’t want it to be as a bandage to cover up whatever damage he’s done. I can’t fucking stand the thought of him being anywhere in your mind when you’re with me. I want it to be
all
about me.”

It was my turn to go quiet.  I knew his statement was partly about me.  About us.  But I knew, also, that it was
about the assault on his sister and how much it must pervade his own life.

A thought struck me, and I blurted it out before I could stop myself. “What happened to them?”

“Who?”

“Your sister’s boyfriend and his friends.”

Cutter’s grip on me tightened, and he laughed bitterly. “Not much. They were underage. My sister was complicit in the drug use and wouldn’t implicate them in the rape. The boyfriend…I kicked his fucking ass. And today, Fiona married him.”

Holy shit.

I wanted to comfort him, to protect him.  And in spite of the fact that he was a foot taller than me, and outweighed me by a hundred pounds, and in spite of his tough-as-something-stronger-than-nails exterior, it didn’t seem ridiculous. 

“I could be
your
bandage,” I offered softly.

His chest vibrated against my back, and for a second, I actually thought he might be crying.  Then I realized he was laughing.  When
his amusement finally subsided, he gave me an affectionate squeeze.

“
Baby-doll, tell me something about
your
self.”

“So you can laugh at me some more?” I retorted, only half-meaning it.

“No. Because you make me feel all fucking vulnerable and exposed, and while I very much like your offer to be my bandage…I’d like you to distract me from the fact that I feel naked. And not the kind of naked I like.”

“You’re not the kind of naked
I’d
like you to be either,” I replied archly.

Cutter groaned. “Tell me something about yourself that’s not going to make regret being such a selfish prick. What’s your biggest secret?”

“What are you? A twelve-year old girl?” I teased.

“What I am, is incredibly horny, and I’m trying as hard as fuck to control myself.”

I decided to take pity on him, and opened my mouth to confess all the little things I kept from my friends and family.  My wish that I’d never been a cheerleader because it was so damned typical.  The philosophy class I signed up for every semester, then dropped because it was too impractical.  What came out instead made me glad I was faced away from him so he couldn’t see the red in my cheeks.

“Last month, I found out – by accident
– that my sister was actually my mom. And the woman who I’ve always called Mom, told me my dad was some idiot who got himself locked up in jail, then died there. Oh, and I think my fake-mom stole my toothbrush to get my DNA.”

Cutter was silent for a moment, and then he chuckled his increasingly familiar chuckle.

“I wasn’t being funny,” I told him, and tried to pull away.

He brought both arms around me and forced me to stay where I was.

“Actually,” he replied seriously. “I think
I’m
funny.”

“You
would
make my questionable parentage about you,” I muttered.

“I mean, when I asked you that question, I just assumed you’d say me. I wasn’t expecting you to drop a soap opera bomb instead.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Suddenly, you’re not just beautiful. You’re
white trash
beautiful. It brings you down to my level.”

“Shut up. Nothing could bring me down that low.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t even know why I told you,” I a
dmitted. “I’ve known for weeks, and I haven’t told anyone else.”

“My open and caring nature breeds trust,” he replied.

“Uh huh.”

He stroked my bare leg, the rough skin on his palm making me shiver.

“Melissa?”

“Yes?”

“If you weren’t so annoyingly perfect, I might really fucking like you.”

My heart hammered in my chest. “And if you weren’t so annoyingly redneck, I might really fucking like you, too, Cutter.”

It was the last thing I remember saying before I drifted off.

When I
woke again, I found him seated in the chair across the room, legs curled up, yoga-style.  A bit of sun peeked through the blinds, showcasing his amused expression.  It wasn’t bright enough to be
real
morning, and it was definitely too early to look so pleased.

I’d been pretending for twenty years that I
was
a roll out of bed go-getter.  And I didn’t want to do it anymore.  I stretched a little and shot Cutter an I’m-not-a-morning-person glare. 

“Something funny yet again?” I asked.

“You.”

“Clever, as always.”

“I aim to please.” Cutter’s grin widened. “You know…I’ve heard of the ugly cry. Even seen it a few times…But until this morning, I didn’t realize there was also such a thing as an ugly
sleep
.”

I narrow
ed my eyes. “What are you saying?”

“You, baby-doll
, have an ugly sleep.”

“I do not.”

“You do,” he insisted. “Your mouth hangs open, and your eyes don’t close all the way, even when you’re dreaming. You twitch occasionally. Oh, and you snore a little.”

“I do not!” I said again, this time more loudly.

“I took a picture. You wanna see?” He held his phone up.

“Give me that.”

He stood up and waved the phone around. “Come and get it.”

“We’re seriously going to do this? You took a picture of me sleeping!”

“In the nude,” he added.

“Goddammit, Cutter!”

I grabbed a sheet from the bed, wrapped it around my body, and dove toward him.  He sidestepped me easily.  I stumbled, but recovered quickly and went after him again.  As I lunged for the phone, the sheet slipped, and I was forced to pause and adjust it.  Cutter laughed, then moved out of my reach, holding the phone above his head.

“Now you’re
giggling
?” I asked mockingly.

He shot me a dirty look. “I’m not fucking giggling. I’m a man.”

“Prove it,” I challenged, and dropped the sheet.

His Adam’s apple moved up and down as his gaze travelled the length of my body.  For a second, I thought he was going to take the bait.  His arm dropped halfway to his side, and he took a step toward me.  Just as a triumphant smile tipped up the corners of my mouth, Cutter held the phone out
, and with a click and a flash, I knew he’d just taken another photo.  Another
nude
photo.

I leapt at him, throwing my full weight into the effort.  I knocked him to the couch, and finally got a grip on the phone.

“Aha!” I called out.

“Aha indeed,” Cutter replied.

He let the phone go easily.  He was no longer fighting me off, either, and after only a second, I clued in.  I was lying on top of him.  Naked.  The fabric of his dress pants rubbed me pleasantly in all the right places.  It was hard to ignore the way it made my insides light up.

“Did you sleep in your
tie
?” I asked as lightly as I could manage.

“Yes.” His voice was husky.

“I think I need to even the playing field a little.”

“Hmm.” The throaty noise made his chest vibrate underneath me, and goose bumps rose all along my body in response.

I sat up, amazed that I felt utterly un-self-conscious as Cutter eyed my exposed breasts hungrily.  If anything, his desire - apparent in his face and in the increasing hardness pressed against my inner thigh – made me feel powerful. 

What a difference between him and Danny,
I thought, then wished I hadn’t.  I wanted to forget about him.  I wanted to lose myself in Cutter.

I dropped the phone on the floor and loos
ened his tie.  I worked the knot open, then slid my fingers between top two buttons of his shirt and popped them open, too.  The first glimpse of his strong, exposed collarbone sent a jolt of heat straight from my stomach, then down between my legs.  Unconsciously, I thrust my hips forward.  Our moans were simultaneous, though mine was followed by a little gasp, and his by a growl.

Cutter gripped my hips, looked me in the eye, and flipped me over so that he was on top.  He pressed himself,
long, hard, and exquisitely sexy, between my legs.  His mouth found my throat, while his hands found and cupped my rear end.  My hips rose to meet him, then stopped.  I could feel every inch of him, but it wasn’t enough.  He was still wearing his pants. 
Why
the hell was he still wearing pants?  I dragged a hand down to his belt, desperate to have all of him.