Filthy Dirty Secrets: Filthy Dirty Alpha Book 2 (2 page)

Chapter Two

Burke

Lola’s eyes burn into mine with a fire I can’t begin to comprehend. I knew she was holding something back from me, but I never suspected she had this much pain contained inside her.

I want to kiss her until I can drag the pain out like venom from a wound, but I know it won’t work. This is Lola’s pain, and all I can do is help make bearing it a little bit easier.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I get it. This is personal for you, even though you never knew Hope.” The words feel inadequate, but they’re all I have. I feel like a jackass for trying to get her to quit. I want to turn back time and throw every piece of information I have into her lap to make her search a little easier.

She’s right. I did forget about Hope. After paying that PI an ungodly amount of money, I didn’t see anything else to be done so I shrugged it off and walked away, just like I did with every problem that gets too big for me to handle.

“I won’t ask you to forget about her. You’re right—I owe Hope more than just hiring a PI and shoving the report in a drawer. I want you to be safe though. Can you at least promise me that you’ll be careful? I don’t want to lose you too.” I touch her hair softly. I’m so afraid of how breakable she is. Her spirit is all fire, but her body is soft—vulnerable. I want to wrap her in my arms and keep her safe from the world, which is ironic because I’m the dangerous one lurking in the shadows. I huff out a breath. This woman has turned me upside down and inside out. Next I’m going to start acting like a teddy bear instead of a Dom.
Fucking hell.

Lola lays her hand alongside of my face and smiles. “I don’t want you to lose me either.” She leans forward and I meet her lips. Her mouth gives easily under mine. She offers up control to me, but for once I don’t take it. I slide my hands down her back and stroke her soft curves. Our lips dance together in an easy give and take. We are a tangle of limbs and hands on the couch. I lower her down until her back hits the cushion. Her brown hair fans out like silk across it. I pause a moment to admire the view, and she gives me an inviting smile.

“I think—,” I start to say.

“No,” she interrupts me. “Don’t talk.”

She’s right. The feelings swelling in my chest bear no resemblance to anything I’ve ever felt before. I wouldn’t know how to explain them if I tried. They have hard edges and soft centers, and I’m worried if I press too hard against them I’ll slice through the hard exterior that’s kept me from forming an attachment to any woman.

Lola wiggles her ass and swings her legs up to wrap them around my waist.

We’re both still fully clothed. I have no idea how this is going to work, and I don’t care. I’m too caught up in the moment to plan ahead now. I trail kisses over her exposed collarbone, and she hums with pleasure. I never want her to stop making that sound. For me. Only me.

I move lower until my lips hit the edge of her top. I catch my teeth on it and pull the fabric down over her nipples. Lola laughs and swats at me. “Don’t rip my shirt!”

In that moment the last thing she’ll be thinking about is her clothes. I pinch her nipples through the lacy bra she’s wearing. She moans and thrusts her hips against mine as I tease the hard nubs.

“More,” she begs, her voice a rough plea.

I love the sound of her voice—all honey and cool professionalism turned to hot desperation. I reach around her and tug free the hooks of her bra and push it out of the way. I finally have access to her smooth, creamy skin. I give it all my attention until she’s whimpering my name.

She struggles to get her hands between us to undo the buttons on her jeans. I’m all too happy to assist her and shove the tight denim down her hips to reveal the lacy panties underneath.

“I want you stripped bare, so I can take you properly,” I growl.

“The bedroom,” Lola gasps. She pushes me, and I pull away to give her room. She staggers to her feet and shimmies her jeans off. With every inch of skin she uncovers, my cock pulses harder against my zipper. She flings her shirt over her head and starts for the bedroom, tossing a heated look over her shoulder. I follow her, feeling half predator, half very aroused man.

When I hit the threshold, she’s naked and sitting on the edge of the bed.
Good girl.
I tug my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor. Pausing with my fingers on the button of my jeans, I slow my movements to appreciate the view in front of me.

Her breasts are perky and topped with dusky pink nipples. She’s soft and curvy. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve fucked her before and thoroughly enjoyed her body; this time is different. Things have shifted between us.

I’m not good enough for her.

It’s a strange thought that hits me out of nowhere. She’s a complicated woman—driven by pain and loss as much as determination and ambition. She’s stubborn and beautiful and too good for me.

I’ve never doubted anything in my life, but for the first time I’m doubting myself. I have enough self-awareness to know that I’m selfish by nature, and my list of priorities is short. I was only interested in Lola in the first place because I wanted to fuck her. What does that say about me? What if she glimpses my soul like I’ve glimpsed hers and all she sees is a shell of a man who is completely unworthy of her?

Lola doesn’t seem to be suffering from any self-doubt. She crawls backwards on the bed and gives me a sultry smile.

Knowing that I’m not good enough for her doesn’t change the fact that I want her—need her.

I shuck off the rest of my clothes and follow her down. Our naked bodies tangle together on the red comforter. Her hands skim up my abs and she lets out a contended sigh. I want to be enough for her. I want it so badly I’m afraid the shards of my feelings really will slice me to pieces.

How can she stand to feel this much? Just a taste of her is driving me crazy.

Her legs wrap around me again until her ankles press against the small of my back.

“I need you. Now,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her temple.

“No blindfold? No cuffs?” she asks, breathless.

I shake my head. “Just you.”

Her mouth forms a small smile before she brings her lips to mine again. This woman is going to be my undoing.

I should use a condom, but I can’t bring myself to put anything between us, and the way Lola bucks her hot, wet pussy against my cock makes me believe she wants me bare too.

“I need to be inside you right now, sweet girl.”

“Yes,” she breathes.

Pushing forward, I sink my cock into her tight, slick heat and push aside all my fears. For now, there is only Lola.

Hot. Wet. Heaven.

My heaven.

I’m balls deep with one thrust.

Fuck
.

Her inner muscles clamp down, and she squeezes me.

“Goddamn, baby. Go easy on me,” I say, looking into the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Burke…” she murmurs my name, tossing her head back as her eyes go hazy. “You’re so big… I love it.” 

As I begin to move inside her, she moans and rakes her fingernails against my back. We move together until she tightens again, and comes with a shuddering scream and the echo of my name.

Her pussy slams down around me, and my own orgasm pulls me under. Her name falls from my lips as I let go of my control, spilling deep inside of her. We collapse in each other’s arms and lay together in spent exhaustion.

“It should always be like this,” she says sleepily.

Fear is a cold knot in my stomach. This kind of vanilla sex—the kind that feels so much like making love—is not part of our deal. And if I let myself have this side of her, I won’t be able to keep myself from falling for her.

And falling for Lola would be the biggest mistake of my life.

Chapter Three

Lola

My head is tucked against Burke’s chest, and the even beating of his heart keeps time with my own. I’m relaxed for the first time in days. This must be what happy feels like. My mouth curves up in a smile. I never expected to find this with Burke. He’s not exactly the kind of guy you associate with a long-term relationship.

But that’s exactly what this has begun to feel like. A relationship. I shiver and press closer to him, but I’m already beginning to feel farther away. I don’t need to ask Burke to know he doesn’t do relationships. This thing between us was only ever supposed to be a fling. Thirty nights—that’s our expiration date.

My happiness is already beginning to fade as fear drifts back in. Fear for Hope. Am I betraying her by being happy here when I should be out there looking for her? Then there’s a different fear, a fear for my own heart.

I’m missing something with this investigation, and I know it. It’s a feeling in the pit of my stomach—there’s one more awful discovery out there just waiting for me, and when I uncover it, nothing will ever be the same.

I turn restlessly in Burke’s arms. His even breathing signals that he has already fallen asleep. I want to know every little detail about him, but I know the more I learn the harder it’s going to be when I have to leave him. If I’d had any sense I never would have made the bargain that landed me in his bed. From the first time I saw him I knew the spark between us was strong enough to burn down this entire town. Someday maybe I’ll have enough sense to listen to my gut when it screams
danger!
But today is not that day.

I sigh and stare up at the ceiling. No matter what happens next, my heart doesn’t stand a chance.

* * *

The next morning, Burke got up and went to deal with Second Circle business while I lingered in bed for a few more hours before finally getting up.

I shower in his opulent bathroom and try not to feel lonely because he isn’t here. I try to divert myself from thinking about him by thinking about Hope, but I have no leads and nothing to go over but yet more old information, so my thoughts drift right back to Burke.

I want to make him dinner. It’s a silly, ludicrous idea, but I want it. I want to sit at a table with him over a meal I cooked myself and talk about our respective days like we’re a regular couple.

The idea seizes me with so much excitement I throw on the most normal clothes I can find in the closet Burke has provided for me. The jeans are still a little tight and the shirt is nearly thin enough to show my bra, but I can pass well enough for a casual Saturday.

I call Lainey as I get on the elevator. She picks up after the first ring. “Hey girl! How’s your hunky sex toy? Any new fun kinks I need to know about?”

“Shh, quiet,” I say as the elevator doors ding open at the lounge. The room is empty at this time of morning. I tiptoe across the floor toward the door. There’s no rule saying I can’t leave, but I still feel like I’m getting away with something as I creep out the front door into the sunlight of the outside world.

“Okay, first of all, he’s a sex club owner, not ‘my sex toy.’ Secondly, things are going… really well, actually. I want to make him dinner. Meet me at the grocery store and help me figure out what to make?”

Lainey squeals. “You’re going to cook dinner for sex toy!”

I bite back a laugh. “His name is Burke.” Just saying his name gives me a shot of pleasure.

Lainey sighs happily. “You’ve got it bad.”

She’s right. I do have it bad.

I meet Lainey at the grocery store three blocks over from Second Circle. She already has a grocery cart half-filled with food when I get there. How she got here and set to shopping so fast, I have no idea.

“Are you cooking him meat?” she asks. “I have a few different options.”

I hadn’t thought of that. I’m a vegetarian, but Burke’s not. “Umm, I’m not sure. What if we compromised with … seafood?”

She nods. “Of course. I’ve got the perfect thing. You’re going to make him paella. It’ll be super easy,” Lainey says. She then proceeds to rattle off an astounding number of cooking words while I try to nod along.

I watch the cart fill with ingredients like saffron, yellow Spanish-style rice, tomatoes, garlic cloves, lemons, fresh shrimp, and a small package of chorizo sausage that she says can go into his dish, and just to cook it separate.

Maybe I should have just decided to order takeout. Takeout can be romantic, can’t it? Lainey tosses a white tablecloth and a pair of candlesticks into the basket.

“Wait a second, what do candles have to do with paella?” I ask. I may not know much, but I do know that.

Lainey rolls her eyes. “These are to set the mood.” She tosses a loaf of hearty bread into the basket.

“Can you write all this down?” I ask, thinking of all the instructions she’s been lobbing at me as we cruise through the aisles.

“Sure,” Lainey says.

I catch sight of a brunette heading into the frozen section. My heart seizes. It looks just like the picture of Hope in my file. Her hair was that same shade of chocolate brown.

I know it’s an absurd impulse, but I can’t help myself. I hurry after her.

“Lola?” Lainey calls after me.

“One second.” I leave Lainey behind in the aisle and follow the girl toward the frozen food. When I catch up to her she’s leaning down to grab a bag of peas from the bottom shelf of a big freezer.

“Hope,” I gasp.

The girl looks up at me blankly. Her eyes are brown and her nose is squat. She isn’t Hope. My heart sinks.

“Sorry, you looked like someone I know.” I back away, my face turning hot.

This is crazy. I’m chasing a mirage, and I might just sacrifice the best relationship I’ve ever been in for nothing. But I can’t give up. I know a normal person would have had the sense to let this case go by now, but I can’t. Hope could still be out there somewhere, desperately hoping someone is searching for her.

My enthusiasm for the rest of the shopping trip is dampened, and I trudge back to Second Circle with my arms full of grocery bags. I used to think that giving up on my childhood friend Claire was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, but part of me is beginning to wonder if this is. Letting the searching drive me crazy. Not knowing when to surrender.

I get back to Burke’s apartment and set the table up before I start cooking. Setting out a tablecloth is much easier than cooking and crumbling sausage. I keep washing my hands and wrinkling my nose at the uncooked meat. This is why I’m a vegetarian. Well, that, and I don’t like eating anything with a face.

“He’ll like it,” I tell myself. “It’ll be yummy, I’m sure.” I’ve managed to get the paella simmering in a big pot, and the sausage cooked in a skillet by the time Burke walks through the door.

“Lola?” He calls from the entryway, as he sees what I’m doing. “Do you have a vendetta against my kitchen, or…”

“I’m cooking dinner.” Removing the lid from the rice, I peek beneath it. It’s starting to resemble paella, and smells incredible. I feel proud, and thankful for Lainey’s advice.

Burke comes closer to inspect my work. “Damn, it smells great in here. What did you make?” His greedy eyes are looking at the bubbling pot on the stovetop.

“Paella. I hope that’s okay.”

“You made me meat?” he asks in disbelief, seeing the chorizo.

“Yes.”

Pulling me into his arms, Burke presses a kiss to my temple. “I’ll open some wine.”

I want to cry with relief. I don’t cook. Ever. But his reaction makes me feel incredible.

He flashes me a smile. “A goddess in the bedroom, and she knows how to cook too. You’re going to spoil me, princess.”

Soon we’re seated at the table I set. Two candles flicker in the dimmed room, and soft jazz music that Burke put on flows easily in the background.

I smile at him over each bite of paella, and it feels so
normal
. Like we could be any couple enjoying a meal together after a tiring week of work.

“How was your day?” I ask. My stomach does a backflip at how ordinary the question sounds.

“Good.” Burke gives me a slow smile that lights a fire inside of me. “Better now that I’m with you. How was yours?”

“Fine,” I say too quickly. I’m acting like such a scatterbrain. I look down at my dinner. The rice has spilled over the side of my bowl and onto the tablecloth.
I thought I saw Hope today
. I can’t tell him that. He’ll think I’m crazy. Or maybe he’ll understand. I look up at him slowly and he’s studying me with an intensity only Burke can manage.

The words tumble out before I can stop them. “Where is this going?”

“The food? Into my stomach.” He takes a big bite.

I barely smile. “No,
us
. Where are we going? Thirty days is going by so fast, and I need to know where we’re going to stand at the end of that.”

Burke swallows and lays his silverware down on his plate before meeting my eyes. “There is no
us
, Lola,” he says quietly. “We made a deal: you live with me and give me what I want, and I let you investigate Hope. That’s all there is.”

His words—spoken with such quiet finality—hit me with the force of a punch. The paella I’ve eaten sits like lead in my stomach.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel like there’s something more between us.” I can feel it even as we’re sitting here, a mere table length apart. It’s like there’s an invisible cord attaching us to each other. Burke occupies my every waking thought, and it’s not just that I want to tear his clothes off—which I do. It’s the man underneath all of that. The man who pretends to be untouchable but is really concealing an incredible streak of kindness and patience.

Burke pushes his chair back from the table and rises to his feet. He paces the dining area and changes directions to head for the kitchen. Our night was going so well and I ruined it by bringing up this subject. But I couldn’t just leave it alone and see where we stood in thirty days. I need to know where we’re going before I fall any harder for him.

“It’s complicated,” Burke finally says as he crosses back to the table.

“Life is complicated,” I shoot back. “And I need more than that. I need to know if there
could
be an us. Or maybe I’m totally crazy to even think about it. I mean, you run a sex club, you need to dominate everything around you, and I’m just normal. I don’t have kinky sex needs.”

“You sure about that?” Burke’s gaze is burning through my clothes as he looks at me.

I swallow. I pull my hands into my lap so he can’t see them tremble. Burke knows exactly what to say to turn me on. I know he’s changing the subject, but I’m not sure I can stop him. “We’re not talking about sex. We’re talking about us.”

“All there is to us is sex.”

Again, his words crash into me, and my heart plummets. I hate him. Or at least, I
want
to hate him. But I don’t know how to hate him.

He stalks toward me. I could leave now—show him he can’t control me. But … he does. He buries his hand in my hair and tugs my head backward.

“Tell me you don’t like this,” he says.

I stare into his eyes, and his expression dares me to lie. He already knows me too well.

“You know I do,” I admit quietly. My body is alive with electricity. I can feel him in every cell of my being. He lowers his head and his lips take mine. It’s a completely different kind of kiss from last night. There’s no gentleness about this. It’s hard and demanding. He takes control of me with his lips, and I give in. I am incapable of resisting him.

He runs a hand down my neck, cups my breast, and squeezes. His grasp is almost too hard, skirting the line between pain and pleasure. I moan against his mouth. He thinks he can prove I have a kinky side by pulling this reaction from me, but I know better. It isn’t what he’s doing to me that’s turning me on—it’s him. Only him.

Burke lets go of me, but only for a split second. Then his hands wrap around my waist, and he’s lifting me off my chair. I grip his shoulders, and my legs twine around him for support as my breasts press against the front of his chest. It’s so easy for him to manhandle me. He’s strong, solid, and capable. Truly a man to be reckoned with—something I’ve never doubted.

His lips find mine again, and he takes my mouth. Owns every inch of it until I can’t remember how to breathe and black spots dance in my vision. He shifts his grip to support me with one arm under my ass, and his other hand works at stripping me out of my clothes.

I slide a hand between us, finding the button of his pants and working it free. Another tug and I’ve released the zipper and slip my hands into his boxer briefs. He’s hard and huge against my palm. I want him in me, but first I want to take back some of the control he’s stolen from me. I need to turn the tables on him.

I run my hand over his cock, gripping the thick length in my hand. Burke groans, but he’s occupied with keeping me upright while tugging my shirt over my head and unhooking my bra.

I nibble on his bottom lip and give his cock a hard pull. He swears against my mouth as I grin.