Dirty Secrets (Get Dirty 4)

But the thrill of any degree of openness with her is tempting.

“Both of those questions have the same answer,” I reply, reaching out and putting my hand on top of hers. “From the moment I saw you in that corner, a blood-splattered angel, I felt it inside me. You are mine. We danced around it even before that, but that instant was the switch when you became the most important thing to me. And since then, I’ve been patient. Fuck, I’ve been so patient.”

My voice goes quiet as I reach up to slip a tendril of hair behind her ear. Even with the majority locked in a tight ballerina bun, there are wisps of hair breaking free from the bonds she has them in. It feels a bit like Allie . . . easy and tight on the surface, but with a desire to be free.

At her core, Allie is a free spirit, tamed and tamped down by life and circumstance. Alternatively, I am cold at the surface, and the deeper one delves into my soul, there is only darkness. Perhaps that’s why I’m so attracted to her light. I stroke my thumb along her jaw, and she tilts her chin, giving me greater access.

“Why did you wait? Why now?” she whispers.

I notice she doesn’t ask what happens if she says no. She’s giving herself to me, and somehow, I feel like I’ve both been granted a precious gift and sullied a flawless jewel. She doesn’t deserve a bastard like me.

That doesn’t stop me, though, as I grasp her chin in my fingers, bringing her eyes to mine.

“You weren’t ready then. I wasn’t sure if you would ever be able to deal with me and everything that comes with that. I’m still not sure, but with you no longer at the club, I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. And while tonight might have been hurtful and my actions likely criminal, this feels like a karmic jumpstart, giving us a giant leap forward by exposing more than I ever thought I’d be able to. Every breath I take, I think of you. Every beat of my heart, I want you. Every thought in my mind is of you. And while some would call me a strong man, I could never, ever let you just leave my life without trying to at least come to this point, to look you in the eyes and tell you that whether you’ve known it or not, you are mine, marked eternally as such. Because you’ve marked me.”

My words are intense, leaving no room for doubt at how serious I’m taking this with her. It’s pedal to the metal, no coy dating with pecks on the cheek at the doorway. No will-he-won’t-he. None of that shit. It’s scary, it’s frightening . . . it’s jumping into the abyss without a parachute and praying your soul isn’t consumed by it.

I only hope that she can find some dark romance in the honesty of them. Her breath hitches, her eyes jumping from my left to my right as she searches for . . . something. I don’t bother to hide, wanting her to see me just this once.

All of me.

I might be an ugly monster that rules with an iron fist, a bastard that runs this town, but for her, I’m but a man whose heart is vulnerable to the one creature that can kill me with barely a thought . . . Allie Bancroft.

She lets the moment stretch, torturing me before mercifully placing her hand on my cheek and touching her forehead to mine.

“Okay. I’m ready—”

Before the words fully leave her lips, I’m on her, pressing her back against the pile of pillows and plundering her mouth. She has been in control for too long, leaving me dangling from a leash like a lovelorn puppy even though she was unaware of her power.

Even tonight, I submitted myself to her will and answered her questions. I apologized. That hasn’t happened since, well, I can’t remember. I have let her be the boss, but it’s time I take the title back, show her who’s in charge. Both here and everywhere.

I’m a force of nature. I’m thought, and will, and determination. I’m who took the world by the throat and am forcing it to bend to my plans.

I use a handful of her hair to hold her head in place, teasing and savoring her lips until she whines in need before giving her a deeper taste as our tongues twirl.

She tastes like cinnamon and coffee, a spicy combination much like her own fire. I press into her, needing every inch of her against me, even if there is a thin layer of fabric separating our skin.

Thinking of her skin, I reach down, running a rough hand up her thigh, enjoying the satin of the legs that have taunted me endlessly.