Dirty Little Secret (Dirty #1) (19 page)

MELISSA

I wriggled against him, trying half-heartedly to get away.  The world was interesting, upside down like that.  And I could almost see his tattoo, which I’d kind of forgotten about until that second.  I twisted my head to try and get a better view.

“Why
is it?” I mumbled drunkenly as we moved through the crowded house.

“Why is what?”

“Why is it the griffin?”

He shoved open the door and took the steps carefully, one at a time.

“It’s a mythical creature, half lion, half eagle,” Cutter said.

“I know
what
it is,” I replied. “I want to know
why
it is.”

“Why it is what?”

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see me.

“Are
you
drunk?” I asked. “I want to why. It. Is. On. Your. Back.”

He paused in his caveman routine, but didn’t put me down.  Which wasn’t a bad thing, because the grass looked a little spin-erific from where I was.

“It’s fucking personal, all right?” he said roughly.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me, or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or I’ll run away.” I squirmed, but of course he held me in place easily.

“Stop that,” he growled.

“Stop what?”

“Running your hands all over me.”

“Tell me, and I’ll stop,” I countered.

“Fine. It’s a symbol of strength,” he told me. “Which I need a lot of at the moment.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“For fuck’s sake! No. Inner strength. Courage. My life hasn’t always been easy, okay?”

“Oh.”

He sighed. “Good enough?”

“Yes.”

He started walking again, and I let myself relax against him.

Because I’m drunk, not because he feels so fucking good. Not because his bare back is so damned sexy pressed into my chest. Definitely not because I still want him.

His hands were almost – but not quite – resting on my ass.

“So warm,” I murmured.

Cutter shuffled me a bit, then I heard the click of his truck door, and he settled me into the passenger seat.

My head rolled to the side, and I pressed it to the window, thankful for its coolness.  I ignored Cutter
as he climbed in, and as he turned the engine over, making it roar to life.

I ignored
him
hard
.

Until he drove right past my house.  Not that I wanted to be there with Danny and Shelby and their private party, but still…

The streets passed by in a blur that made my head spin.

“Where are we
going?” I finally demanded.

“My place.”

“I’m not staying there.”

“
Sleep it off in the truck then. I’ve got some rope. I’m sure I can rig it so you’re safe.”

I had a sudden vision of Cutter, wearing a devious smile and not much else, snapping a rope between his hands.

“No way!”

He t
urned off the engine and raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re being ridiculous.”

I shot him
a glare. “I am not. And why are we stopped?”

“Baby-doll, you’re very drunk.”

“So?”

“So look where we are.”

Cutter inclined his head out the windshield, and I realized that we were already in front of his building.

“Take me somewhere else!” I demanded.

“You’re a very difficult woman,” he told me.

“
Stop telling me what I am! I’m not ridiculous, and I’m not difficult,” I protested.

“So you’re…
drunk and easy?”

“Fuck you.”

“Later?”

He was never going to let me live down that little slip up.

“You had your chance,” I snapped.

“Listen,” he replied with exaggerated patience.
“You can either haul your ass out and up to my apartment, or I can throw you over my shoulder again.”

“Like the Neanderthal
you are?”

“Like the Neanderthal I am,” he agreed,
poorly disguised amusement evident in his voice.

I was tempted – oh so tempted – to let him do it.  I pushed down the lick of desire
that told me to let go and surrender to Cutter.

“Fine. I’ll get out willingly. But this isn’t going to be
like the time in the country club. Or the lumber yard. Or the goddamned hotel,” I warned him, aware of how ridiculous the list made me sound. “I’m not just going to - ”

He cut me off. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of touching you. I don’t even want to.”

How utterly insulting.

I narrowed my eyes at him.
“What? Why not?”

He smirked. “Because I don’t get off on taking advantage of drunk chicks.”

“I’m not
that
drunk.”

“You’re right. You’re not drunk
at all. You’re fucking wasted.”

I unsnapped my seatbelt.  With minimal lack of coordination, I slid across the front seat, flipped myself into his lap and straddled him.  Cutter froze.  I wriggled around a little.

“What are you doing?” he growled.

“Getting comfortable. My ass is kind of jammed against the steering wheel
, and it doesn’t feel great,” I replied.

I shifted again, pushing myself forward so there was a bit more space between me and the ste
ering wheel.   It had the bonus of propelling me closer to Cutter.  I inhaled sharply as I realized that whatever he said about having no intention of touching me, there were certain parts of his body that had other ideas.

“
You’re a fucking liar,” I breathed. “And I know you want to touch me.”

“Not with a ten foot pole.”

I rocked my hips. The full length of his erection pushed against me.  My own body sprung to attention in response.

“You
like
me,” I said.

He didn’t deny it, he just spoke slowly and deliberately, looking me right in the eye.
“I. Am. Not. Touching. You.”

“All right.”

I pulled his t-shirt off my body, exposing my breasts to the heat of his breath. 

“You better take this back, then,” I said
, and tucked the t-shirt down beside him.

“No.”

My nipples hardened at just the nearness of his mouth.  He kept his hands at his sides.  I placed one of my palms in the center of Cutter’s bare chest, and dragged the other one across my stomach.  I traced my fingers upwards in a slow, circling motion until I hit my left breast.  I cupped it and leaned into him.

“Christ, Melissa,” Cutter groaned, his mouth brushing my nipple as he spoke. “What do you want from me?”

I couldn’t suppress my own moan.  I was probably wet enough that he could feel it, even through both sets of our jeans.

“I want you. To be
wrong
. And to be sorry.”

“I
am
sorry.”

“You are?” I was surprised at how easily he said it.

“Why the fuck do you think I came after you?”

My brain was all muddled from the alcohol.  And from the nearness of him, and the scent of his skin in my nose, and
in my mouth, and…I tried to say something intelligible.

“I didn’t know you came after me.”

“Do you think that party was my kind of thing?” he asked.

“Do you think it was
mine
?” I countered.

“I don’t know. You were there, playing cards on a human fucking table.”

“Why are you sorry?” I asked.

“Because. Goddammit. Can we talk about this when you’re sober?”

I ran a finger down his perfect jaw, across his collarbone, and along his shoulder.

“Baby-doll.” His nickname for me rumbled through his chest, and
I leaned back, not sure who was more tormented – me, or him.

Cutter reached up, and for a moment, I thought, and maybe hoped, that he was going to give in and touch me.  Instead, he flung open the truck door.  Cold air blasted through the vehicle, m
aking me shiver.

“I’
m taking you inside,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument.

CUTTER

By the time I got her upstairs, she was nearly asleep on her feet.  She stumbled to my pull-out couch, collapsed on top of it, and let me tuck the blanket around her bare shoulders.

I glanced down at my ankle, pulling up the cuff of my jeans so I could see the monitor.

For the longest fucking second in the world, it glowed red.  Then it flipped over to green, and I took a breath, waiting for the phone to ring.

How late was I?

My cell stayed silent.

I exhaled softly
and turned back to Melissa.

In the few second
s I’d been looking away, she had flipped over.  She was lying spread eagle, and face down.  That ridiculous rip in her jeans exposed more ass than it covered.  Her hair was a golden cloud on my pillow.

I wished I could’ve managed to get the shirt back over her head. 
There was abso-fucking-lutely
no
way I was going to get to sleep with her lying in my bed, half naked. 

I’d never really felt so cramped in by my own apartment before.  I usually appreciated the fact that I could reach my
fridge from my bed-slash-couch, and that I didn’t have to sit at a table for dinner.  Because with the big screen TV, there was no room for a dining set anyway.

Melissa somehow took up more room than all of the furniture combined.  Her p
leasant scent - currently punctuated by a hint of liquor that only made it sweeter - touched my nose no matter how shallowly I breathed. 

I stared at her un
til I couldn’t stand it anymore, wondering why I felt like she was going to disappear any second.

I wanted to get out, to get rid of the overwhelming sense of despair at the thought.

But I was housebound, and even if I hadn’t been, there wasn’t a chance I would’ve left her.

I had nowhere to go but up to my studio.  So I headed up to the loft, where I could be alone with my thoughts and a canvass.  Pretty soon, I was sorting through the first as I thrashed angrily on the second.

Why didn’t I just
give in when I had the chance, to get her out of my system?

Part of it was
because what I’d told her was true.  I wasn’t in the habit of taking advantage of drunk girls.  I didn’t need to.  There was more to it than that, though.  I was pretty sure it had something to do with the fucking ring on her finger.  I wanted to run down the stairs, rip it off and toss it out the window.  I refrained from doing it. 

As hot and bothered as she was before passing out, I was hella sure she’d be pissed at me if she woke up and found it missing.

Besides that, no matter how much of an asshole her fiancé might be, I needed her to know I wouldn’t become the other man.  I knew exactly how it felt to be on the receiving end of that, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

The kicker – the big, fucking kicker?
  As bleeding heart as it sounded, I couldn’t stand the idea of turning
her
into Brandy. Oh, the irony wasn’t over my head.  I’d gone from thinking all those high-and-mighty bitches were the same to being damned certain Melissa was different.  Too many drinks make people do all kinds of crazy things.  I didn’t want to become something she regretted.  I didn’t want her to turn those beautiful blue eyes on me and feel sad, or guilty.

I wanted – no
needed
– a clear picture on where she stood in her relationship with Danny, to know if she actually felt something for
me
.

“Jesus Christ, Cutter,” I muttered out loud. “You sound like such a pussy.”

I slapped angry strokes onto the canvas until my arm ached from the effort, then collapsed into the big chair in the corner of the room.

I dozed fitfully, plagued by visions of blonde hair, twisted up in my fists, and full, soft lips a
ll over my body.

When a
hand finally squeezed my shoulder gently, I woke feeling disoriented and frustrated. 

The sight of Meli
ssa’s slim figure dwarfed in another of my t-shirts sparked a heat that made me want to devour her, to sate my sexual frustration without thinking of the consequences.  Her eyes still had that soft, sleep-filled appearance that doubled as a come-fuck-me look.

“Good morning,” she whispered in a voice that perfectly matched her expression.

It would be so easy to grab her, to take her now,
I thought.

I forced my eyes to her finger, sought the ring there, and used it to dampen my need.  It worked.  For ten seconds.  Which is how long it took me to realize I’d stripped down to my boxer briefs at some point
in the night, and that her gaze was trained on my obvious erection.  When she saw me catch the direction of her stare, she quickly averted her gaze.

I shot her a grin and grabbed my pants from the floor
, slipping them on before she could spy my anklet.

“I guess both of us want
to say good morning to you, too,” I teased.

“Yo
u’re disgusting,” she shot back, and I fought down a stab of hurt.

“I’m not the one sleeping it off in someone else’s apartment,” I pointed out as I flopped back into my chair.

“I was just leaving.”

“So go.”

“I just didn’t want to take off without saying goodbye.”

“Because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings?” I was trying to lighten the mood, but her eyes flashed.

“I don’t give two shits about hurting your feelings. If you even
have
feelings,” she snapped. “But there’s something to be said for politeness. So. Thank you, for letting me spend the night, and for not taking advantage of the situation.”

She didn’t sound thankful at all.  Just the opposite, in fact.  I shook my head. 
I wondered which one of was going crazy.

Explain,
nudged a small voice.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” I stated.

“Yeah, I got that.”

Her sarcasm grated on me. “You’re welcome. For saving you from a very bad situation.
”

She rolled her eyes. “Chivalry is you
r fucking specialty.”

She turned to go.

“You going to put on your shorts and take off my shirt before you leave?” I called after her.

She paused.  Turned back.  Stripped the t-shirt off.  Tossed it at me.

Holy fuck.

She was wearing tiny bikini bottoms that
hugged her curves perfectly.  They showed off the softness of her hips, fully displayed the tightness of her ass, and hinted at the sweetness that was underneath the stretchy fabric.  I dragged my eyes up, trying to ignore the way my cock sprung to attention at the sight of her perfect tits.  I focused on her face.  Not that it did much good.  Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were parted appealingly.

“Problem, Cutter?” she asked. “You’ve got your shirt.”

“I’m tired of this fucking game, Melissa,” I growled.

“This isn’t a game, Cutter,” she replied calmly. “I woke in the night. I was cold but u
ncomfortable. I took off my shorts. I borrowed a t-shirt. No big deal.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you mean? Because I have no clue. You kicked me out. One second we – if you want to say there was going to
be
a we – were fine. The next second you wouldn’t let me talk, and you told me to go back to the guy who’d just tried to assault me. Then you chased me down at a party, where I was of my own free will and dragged me here, only to start a fight. Your signals are a mess.”

Jesus.  She was right.  That’s exactly what I’d done.  What the fuck was wrong with me?

I stood up, strode over to her, and took her hand.  Forcefully, I shoved it between my legs.

“Do you feel that?” I demanded hoarsely. “Every time I see you – clothed, unclothed, wrapped in a fucking parka, I get that hard for you.  Hell, even thinking about you makes me stiff. Know
ing you is the worst kind of torture I’ve ever had.”

I expected her to balk, to back off, and she didn’t disappoint me.  She pulled her hand away gently.  Then she surprised me.  She took a deep breath, reached out, took my hand again, and guided it to her
bikini bottoms.  The thin fabric was damp, and hot.

“Do you feel
that
?” Her voice was soft. “Every time you look at me, I get wet. From the first second your truck pulled up in front of the school. Your hair, your eyes, your voice. I’ve never wanted something as badly as I want you. I’m not playing a game. I don’t want to tease you, and I don’t want to be teased.”

I groaned. “Don’t tell me that, Melissa. There’s nothing I’d like more than to back you up against the wall right behind you and fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

“So do it.”

“No.”

“Who’s playing games now?”

She shifted our
hands slightly, and my fingers were suddenly
inside
her bikini.  She thrust her hips forward, and I drew in a sharp breath as I brushed her clit.

“You don’t belong to me,” I hissed.

“I’d like to,” she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“What about your fiancé?”  At that second, I wanted to kill the sonofabitch for being able to lay claim to Melissa.

“I don’t want Danny,” she replied.

“For right this second.”

“I’ve never wanted him.”

“Bullshit.
”

“Cutter –“

“
I won’t be the other man, baby-doll. I’ve been on the losing side of that game, and it fucking sucks. It made me do things I can’t ever take back, and I wouldn’t put someone else in that position…” I hesitated, then added, “And besides that…I don’t want you halfway.”

Slowly, deliberately, she
used her teeth to slide the ring from her finger and tossed it across the room.  It rolled, and rolled, then spun to a stop with a finality that made my heart fucking jump.

“
He’s never touched me where you’re touching me right now, Cutter. I never wanted him to.”

Was she serious?  I leaned back a little bit, so I could look her in the eyes.  There was no dishonesty there.  I wanted to be sure.

“You and him never…”

“Fucked?” Her voice wrapped around the word in the sexiest way possible.

I was indescribably pleased that the other man hadn’t put his mark on her.  I slid my hand from her bathing suit and clasped her hips possessively.  I walked backward to the big chair, dragging her with me.  I tried to fall into it, but she grabbed me by the waistband and pulled me to a stop.  With a devious grin, she pushed my pants and my boxer briefs to my thighs, then down a little further. 

Shit. The ankle monitor.

She either hadn’t spotted it, or didn’t care.  She put her palm on my chest and pushed.  As I landed in the chair, Melissa swung her legs around my hips, straddling me.  She grabbed my hands, and I didn’t protest as she pinned them behind my head.

“Tell me you want me,” she commanded.

“If you can’t feel how badly I do…” I trailed off as she circled her hips in a slow, tortuous motion.

The smooth fabric of her
bikini glided over the hardness of my cock, silky and so arousing that when she stopped, I nearly begged for more.

“How’s that for a start?” she asked, and released my hands.
“I learned that one from you.”

I gripped the sides of
the swimsuit. “Take these off.”

“No.”

“Now.”

She smiled at me and moved my fingers from her hips to her breasts.  I circled both of her nipples with my thumbs.

She moaned and arched against me.  I caressed her cheek with the back of my hand.

“Take off the
bikini bottoms,” I said. “Please.”

“I will,” she agreed in a teasing voice. “Soon. I don’t want to rush my first time.”

I froze. “Your first time with me?”

“With anyone.”

Jesus.

“Melissa…
Baby-doll…We need to stop.”