Dirty Secrets (Get Dirty 4) - Page 30

“Thanks, honey. I’m teaching the kids, but I’m still around here too,” I assure Tina. “Actually, I’ve got a feature soon, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the finances work out on that idea. It’s a bit counterintuitive to the usual give them what they want, more only give them what they want every once in a while and hope they pay extra for the rarity.”

One of the other girls, a newbie named Sarah, chimes in. “Well, if they don’t, I’m sure Boss Man will make up the difference for you.”

She says it in a good-humored teasing way, but it stings a bit anyway. I try to laugh it off, not sounding all that convincing.

“Not really how that works.” But at the five sets of eyes boring into me, I falter some more. “Uhm, so does everyone know?”

Tina laughs loudly. “Does everybody know?”

She looks at the other girls, her face telegraphing Do you believe this shit? When she turns back to me, she grins, but seeing my face, she gets up and talks to me in that mom voice that tells me she’s going to make sure this is the last time anyone says anything about me and Dom.

“Hon, we’ve known there was something between the two of you for months. We knew you weren’t breaking the rules. I woulda called your ass on that. But we could get high on the fumes of your chemistry just by walking by. What do you call those? Phera . . . phomo . . . pheromones?” She snaps her fingers. “Yeah, pheromones in spades. We had a pool going on for a while, betting on when you two would finally combust. Too bad Logan put a stop to that after his dates were all past. Sore loser, I think.” She winks like that’s funny, but I’m aghast.

“Whoa, I’m not really sure what to say to all that,” I say quietly. “Tina, you—”

Tina pats my shoulder, ever the momma of the group, “Baby, nobody here is judging you for falling for Dominick. He’s a good man, even with who he is, and it’s not like any of us are jealous because we thought we had a chance with him. We’ve always known you’ve had that man on a string, for a lot longer than you’ve known it, and it’s about damn time you yanked on that line.”

She mimes jacking off, her hand pumping an invisible cock.

I laugh at her outrageous action as much as the thought that I have Dominick on a string. If anything, it’s the exact opposite. I feel like he’s not teasing me to him. He’s just inserted himself into my life and expected that I’ll accept that.

Funny thing is, I really want to. He’s different than I’d thought, kinder and more respectful, and definitely hotter than the ice-cold image he projects. In fact, I can’t believe I ever thought he was cold.

“Thanks, Tina,” I reply, not hugging her simply because I don’t want body glitter all over my black T-shirt. “All right, ladies, I think I’m gonna head upstairs to my man.”

Claiming Dominick, even lightly to my friends, feels big, really big, but I think I like it.

It feels right.

There’s a round of catcalls, but Tina’s words are the most heartfelt. “Allie, go be happy. Go on, girl.”

I swear she’s looking at me with a hint of motherly pride as I leave the dressing room, which is extra-odd because Tina, for all her wisdom and life advice, isn’t that much older than me. But the hand life dealt her made her pretty perceptive, and I’ll keep her advice in mind.

Upstairs, I knock and go in at Dominick’s called-out invitation.

I’ve gotta give him credit. He does a good job of pretending he hasn’t known I’ve been downstairs for the past ten minutes as he crosses the room and kisses my cheek.

“A pleasant surprise. You couldn’t wait to see me until later?”

I smirk at his cocky arrogance and assumptions, teasing back. “Maybe I came to see the girls, not you. I just wanted to toss you a bone before going and seeing how Sarah’s new routine is working out.”

His smile falls in increments, his eyes darkening at my insolence. If he were looking at anyone else this way, I’m sure they’d be shaking in terror. I’m shaking, but there’s not a drop of fear in my blood.

No, for me, it’s all adrenaline and arousal.

He smiles, calling my bluff. “Well then, by all means, let’s get you a seat for the show.” He takes my hand, leading me to the wall of glass windows.

He grabs his desk chair, a big black leather throne fit for a king.

No . . . fit for a Boss.

He sits down and pulls me into his lap. We face the windows, which are transparent right now, though I know that from the floor, they’re blacked out.

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