Dirty Secrets (Get Dirty 4)

She’s trying to get out of here as fast as she can. Trying to get away from me.

She lifts her chin, challenging me. “I’m not here to discuss personal matters, only business. We need to go over receipts for the night so I can get my share.”

Though my every instinct is to rush her, press her into a chair, and beg for forgiveness with my tongue buried in her pussy, I know it’s not the right move. Not for her, not for me, and not for us. Not now.

“If that’s what you wish,” I say, feigning acquiescence. “Please, sit.”

I gesture to the chairs in the sitting area of my office, not wanting my desk between us. If this is the only taste I have of her at this instant, then I don’t want even a scrap of paper between us.

She sits primly on the chair’s edge, not relaxing even an inch. “So, fifty dollars a person entry tonight times . . . do you have a head count from the door yet?”

I eye her, keeping my face neutral. “The fire marshal said our capacity is maxed at 350. Logan will have exact figures after closing, but I’m certain we hit it, maybe exceeded ever so slightly.”

She does some quick math in her head, ticking off things on her fingers to help out. “So the door take is at least $17,500, and my share at twenty-five percent is . . .”

I already ran the numbers on a calculator earlier. “About forty-four hundred minus tip share. Not a bad night.”

“Says you,” she huffs before looking to the side, whispering quietly to herself, “Took everything I had to walk in here tonight.”

Finally, I’m getting to her, ruffling her feathers and pulling her away from her desire to stay all-business. I lean forward, wanting to use this moment of honesty not as a weakness but to show her that I’m just as broken by what’s happened between us.

“Allison, I’ve had to near-physically restrain myself from breaking down your door for the last two weeks to force you to listen to me. It took everything I have to let you walk on that stage tonight without being marked by me. And it’s taking every drop of control I possess to remain in this chair and not drop at your feet to worship you like the queen that you are.”

I clasp my hands between my spread knees to watch her eyes come to me, her lips trembling as she realizes what I’ve said.

“Dom, don’t,” she finally gasps, shaking her head. “I can’t.”

“Don’t what?” I challenge her, my voice thick with emotion. “Want you, need you? Because I know one thing, Allison.”

I get up slowly, not wanting to startle or frighten her, and close the small gap between us. Bending forward, I place my hands on the armrests on either side of her and lean down to whisper hotly in her ear.

“You have damned me. I am yours. And you are mine.”

She turns her head away, and though I suspect it’s more to keep her lips from mine and create some space between us, she only succeeds in giving me greater access to her neck.

I lay soft kisses and licks along the tendon stretched tight there, letting her ragged breath be my guide. She whimpers as I get close to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, so I bite gently, not breaking the skin, but so that she feels the gentle tug of my teeth. I taste her sweat, drawing her flesh into my mouth and sucking to pull blood to the surface, wanting her to see that I am with her even when she’s alone later.

Because I know that she will leave me again.

It will take time. She is fighting herself as much as anything else, but she is still mine.

“You already know that you hold my heart, and though a part of you wants to rip your heart from me, I can’t let you go. I love you, Allison. Always,” I whisper, and a tear slips down her cheek. I chase it with my tongue, catching its saltiness and savoring it, though I don’t want her to cry.

She turns to look at me, her chocolate eyes pleading with me to stop this madness, but I can’t. With her bright red lips so close, I can’t stop myself from tasting them.

She cries out against my lips, her hands going to my shirt, and though I think she initially intended to push me away, instead, she pulls me closer and kisses me back. Between kisses, she speaks in stilted utterances, foregoing breath. “I shouldn’t. It’s wrong. I can’t be . . . who you want me to be.”

Confusion races through me, and I pull back from her, searching her face. Her eyes meet mine again, and then she breaks, the tears wrecking the last of her makeup as sobs shake her body.