Dirtiest Secret (SIN 1)

She indicated her own naked body with a sweep of her hand. "Fair is fair," she chirped.

Oh yeah. He'd love to turn her over his knee.

He closed his eyes and willed himself not to think about her ass. Or any part of her at all. She was wearing him down; he knew it. And he needed to get back control. "You should go." He spoke firmly in the kind of voice the women he invited into his bed obeyed. The kind of voice that gave inarguable orders to his team.

"Not happening," she said, apparently immune. "I'm tired of waiting, Dallas. I'm going to take what I want."

"You don't want this." Why the hell couldn't she get that through her skull? "You don't want me. I can't give you--"

"What? Everything? You think I don't know that? What we are to each other? Why it can't ever work, ever?" She stepped around him and headed for the bedroom.

He stood for a moment, a little irritated but mostly amused.

"Of course I get it," she continued. "And if I have to be just your friend, just your sister, then okay. Fine. I can deal with that. But we can't even get there because of the damn elephant in the room."

She sat on the bed, her legs spread just enough so that he could see how wet and swollen she was. She patted the mattress beside her. "You want me--don't you even think of denying it. And I want you. And so I'm here to take what I want, and then maybe, just maybe we can get our heads clear and move on."

"Don't you get it? There is no fucking you out of my system. I can't--"

He stopped, his mouth tight and hard, then took a deep breath and tried a different tack. "You will never be out of my system, and you have no idea what you're asking."

"I know I can't live like this. Everything wild and scattered. My emotions all over the place. I hate it, and one day I'm going to hate you, too, for making me feel this way."

"Maybe you should. Maybe I deserve it."

"You're not the one who deserves it," she whispered, as a shadow crossed her face.

"No," he said, remembering what she'd confessed in the cabana. That she blamed herself for those extra four weeks he'd been held. "Don't even think that."

She looked up at him, and now her expression was hard as steel. "Then take my mind off it. Tell me what you want, Dallas. Do you want me to lay back? Do you want to watch while I touch myself? Do you want me to suck your cock?" She glanced toward him, where the cock in question was enthusiastically answering both those questions in the affirmative. "Well," she said with a smile. "I guess so."

He stepped closer to the bed.

"This is what you want?" he asked. "For me to treat you like one of those women who fall into my bed? Who gossip that they've had me and whisper about the size of my cock?"

"Well, it's definitely worthy of its reputation."

He wasn't amused. "Jane."

"Yes." She lifted her chin. "That's what I want."

"You don't even have a clue what you're asking. If you knew what I did with--"

"Then show me. Pretend I'm your little Oxford grad Argentinean girl. Or that bitchy redhead from your party. Do you kiss them, or is that too personal? Maybe you just fuck them."

He scoffed. "That's the last thing I do."

"Then show me what you do first."

He almost laughed, but the sound caught in his throat as she stood and came to him. "Do you order them on their knees?" she asked as she went onto hers. "Do you fuck their mouths?" She brushed the tip of her tongue along his glans, then took in just enough to tease.

And then, without warning, she opened her mouth and drew him in so deep his balls brushed up against her chin.

Lust and self-loathing combined inside him, an explosive combination, and he reached down, grabbed her under the shoulders and practically tossed her back to the bed.

She stumbled, then sat. "Dammit, Dallas, I--"

He was in front of her in a second, pushing her back so that she was lying flat on her back with her knees bent and her legs hanging over the bed. He stood between her legs as he leaned over, then pressed his hand against her mouth to keep her quiet as her eyes fired with anger.