Dirty Deal (Dirty Rich 1)

It's scary how much I want him in control of my body.

I lean into his touch.

His lips brush my neck.

It's soft. Tender. Hot as hell.

I let my eyelids flutter together. I surrender to the sensations forming in my body.

Blake pulls my dress off my shoulders. He cups my breast, over my bra. Kisses a trail from my lips to my collarbone.

Objections form and dissolve on my tongue. I force myself to hold onto one of them. "We haven't agreed to anything."

"Is there anything else you want?"

"How long will this be? Is it indefinite?"

"Six months. A year, max." The strength drops from his voice. It's hurting. Something about this hurts him.

"Is there an out?"

"I'll only accept a full commitment."

A year with a man I barely know.

That's a huge gamble. But it's worth it for the end of that awful mortgage. For an education for Lizzy. And for me.

A million dollars.

That's enough to travel the world. To get a fine arts degree. To start my own comic studio.

That's… everything.

"Okay." I offer my hand.

He shakes. "I'll have my lawyer draft a contract. We'll sign tomorrow."

"Okay."

He stares deeply into my eyes. "This will move fast. You'll need to be ready by next week."

"I can do that."

"There will be cameras when we announce our engagement. You can wear what you want, but if you need help finding something, my assistant—"

"Okay." I nod. As much as I don't like the idea of being a doll, I don't know fancy parties. I don't want to look out of place. It's going to be hard enough convincing the world I'm Blake Sterling's girlfriend looking the part.

"I'll pick you up Saturday morning at nine a.m."

Jesus, that's early for someone who works mostly nights. "As long as you bring coffee."

He brushes my hair from my shoulder. "When you're with me, I'll take care of everything."

"Coffee?"

He nods.

"Food?"

He nods.

"What else?"

He runs his hands over my bra. "Clothing."

"Oh, that stands for clothing, does it?"

He nods.

His lips close over mine. It's magic. Like one of those scenes in a movie where fireworks explode over a pretty pink castle.

His lips are soft. Sweet. Commanding.

I run my hands through his hair. It's short. Thick. Neat.

His hand slips into my bra.

His fingers brush my nipple.

Fuck, that feels good.

I'm shaking. It's been a long, long time since anyone has touched me like this.

No. No one has touched me like this, like I'm a gift they want to unwrap.

I groan against his lips. Slide into his lap. Details fade to the back of my mind. They’re so much less important than my body against his.

I dig my hands into the soft fabric of his shirt until I can feel the hard contours of his muscles.

Desire overwhelms me.

I've never wanted anyone this much. I never even knew you could want someone this much.

He tugs at my dress, but he's pulling it back on, back over my shoulders.

My head is spinning. He's not… but he… he can't stop now.

I'm pent up.

I'm going to explode.

"It's late," he says.

I blink a few times, but he's still staring at me with that same impenetrable look on his face. "What else?" I ask. "Besides food, coffee, and clothing?"

"You'll come when you're with me, Kat. I'll make sure of it."

"But not tonight?"

"Not yet." He shifts off the couch. "I'll walk you out."

"I can walk myself."

I reach for my coat, but Blake is already holding it.

His fingers brush against my neck as he helps me into my coat.

Heat floods my body. It's everywhere. I can barely stand.

But we're not having sex tonight.

I… I don't get it.

I squeeze my purse. This is for the best. I've only known him a week.

Blake walks me to the elevator. He waves his key card in front of the door. "I'll have one made for you."

"Sure."

"My driver will take you home. If you need anything, call."

"I'll be fine."

His stare is intense. "Anything."

My stomach flutters. He can't mean sex. He just sent me out of his office with my dress falling off my shoulders.

I clear my throat and step into the elevator. "Goodnight."

He nods.

The doors slide closed, and I finally exhale. Almost home. It's a quick ride to the ground floor. As promised, there's a sleek limo waiting out front.

The man standing in front of it nods. "You must be Ms. Wilder."

I nod.

"Jordan." He offers his hand.

I shake.

"It's lovely to meet you." He opens the door to the backseat and motions after you.

I slide inside.

It's not like the limo I took to Junior Prom. It's sleek. Dark. Black leather and soft suede.

The minibar is stocked with tiny bottles of top-shelf stuff—brands I've never heard of. I crack open a mini bottle of gin and take a long sip. It's good.

But it's not doing anything to help with my frustration.

It's only winding up the tension inside me.

Letting down all the walls protecting me from my libido.

The door closes. Jordan speaks into his earpiece. "Understood, sir." The partition rolls up with a quiet whir.

I'm as good as alone.

My phone rings in my purse. Blake. What the hell?

I answer. "Hello."

"I said anything, Kat."

"I was there."

"You want something."

My heart races. Of course I want something. He's not an idiot. "Yes."

"So ask for it."

Heat rushes through me, collecting between my legs. "I…"

"Take off your underwear. I want to hear you come."

Chapter 5

My cheeks flush, but I can't blame the alcohol.

I'm hot everywhere.

Take off your underwear. I want to hear you come.

I… Uh…

I can't strip in the back of a limo.

Even if I'm more or less alone.

"Kat?" His voice is a command. It's now.

I let out a heavy exhale. "I can't."

"You want to come?"

"Yes."

"Put the phone on speaker."

I do. I set it on the bench next to me. The limo is already moving. It's not far to my place. We're right by the Brooklyn Bridge.

Is ten minutes enough time for this?

It's not like I take my time when I masturbate.

But this is different.

It's for him.

"Kat." His voice drops an octave.

"It's on speaker." I squeeze my knees together. It does nothing to temper the heat racing through me. I'm achy.

I can't believe it, but I want to strip right here.

I want to touch myself for his listening pleasure.

His voice flows from the speakers. "Don't make me ask again."

My fingers curl around my panties. I lift my hips and slide them to my ankles.

"Done," I breathe.

"Good girl."

It should annoy me, but it doesn't. It makes me hotter. It makes me even more desperate for release.

"Spread your legs."

I slide my knees apart. It shifts my pelvis up. Cold air hits my tender flesh. It wakes up my nerves. It winds me tighter.

"Take off your bra," he demands.

I roll my dress to my chest, unhook my bra, and slide it off my shoulders.

My nipples tighten.

I'm stripping for a voice on the phone. No, for Blake. For a man with all the money and power in the world.

I like that he has the power to snap his fingers and destroy me.

I like that I'm out of my fucking mind.

I want to forget the rest of the world. I want to forget everything but his demands.

"Good." His voice gets heavier. "Play with your nipples."

I squeeze my eyes closed and imagine him here, touching me the way he touched me in the office.

Slowly, my thumbs brush my nipples. I draw circles. Soft ones. Then hard ones.

A groan falls off my lips. Then another. It's almost like he's touching me. But, fuck, I really wish it was him touching me.

His breath gets heavier.

Needier.

He's the one in control, but I'm doing something to him too. I'm driving him out of his mind too.

"Bring your hand to your thigh," he says. "But don't touch your cunt. Not yet."