Dirty Deal (Dirty Rich 1)

My heart thuds against my chest. My breath catches in my throat. I want his laugh. And his body. And his heart.

But the latter is out of the question.

I need to let go of the idea.

I'm trying.

But when he looks at me with those piercing blue eyes…

"Sit. Get warm." He nods to the couch.

It's a good idea. I toss my wet clothes on the floor and wrap myself in the blanket.

Blake fills a coffeemaker with water. "What do you want to drink?"

"Hot chocolate."

"Really?"

"You have a problem with hot chocolate?" I put my hand on my hip, but the gesture is impossible under the blanket.

Blake turns to me, taking in my attempt at a confident, badass look.

His lips curl into a smile. Then—oh God, it's happening again.

He laughs.

My whole body fills with warmth. It's wrong how good his laugh makes me feel. How much I want his happiness.

"Hot chocolate it is." He grabs mugs from the counter.

I take a seat on the couch, willing my body to relax.

It's not happening. My stomach is still light. My heart is still racing.

But my thoughts are coming together.

I pull the blanket over my head. It's quiet. Calm. And I don't have to watch my expression.

I'm tired of being under the microscope.

He moves towards the couch. "You're not good at sharing, are you?"

No. I'm not.

I pull the blanket to my shoulders.

He's standing in front of the couch, a mug in each hand.

"I guess not." I'm perfectly good at sharing some things. But not my feelings. Not my history. Certainly not my heart.

With the blanket, well, I'll do my best.

I take a mug. I shift so half the blanket frees. Blake sits next to me and pulls the blanket over our laps.

My eyes refuse to obey my commands. They fix on Blake's shoulders, chest, and stomach. He's still wet. It highlights the lines of his torso.

I want to draw him.

Realism was never my style, but it's the only way to capture the majesty that is Blake. A cartoon version could never compare.

Hell, a drawing could never compare.

Nothing compares.

I let my eyelids press together. I soak in the sound of the rain. The warmth of the mug. The smell of chocolate wafting into my nostrils.

When I open my eyes, I'm surprised by the darkness. The sky is ugly. Deep blue with big, grey clouds. The rain is hard, but the sound of it is beautiful. Like music.

"Kat?"

"Yeah?" I look into Blake's eyes, but it doesn't help with my nerves. I still want to get lost in those eyes.

"You okay?"

"Mostly." I sip my cocoa. It's instant, but it's soothing all the same. I take a long sip then set my mug on the floor.

I don't need chocolate and sugar.

I need him wiping away the rest of the world.

Blake watches me the way he always does. He'd make a great scientist. Or a judge. There's no telling what's going on behind those gorgeous eyes.

He offers his mug of coffee. I nod and take a sip. It's black. Rich. Bold. Vanilla.

My gaze shifts back to the window. To the rain hitting the glass. "I should get home soon."

"It's pouring."

"It's always pouring this time of year." I shift and the blanket slips off my shoulders, all the way to my waist. "I'm sure you have more work to do. I don't want to impose."

He sets his drink on the floor. "I like you here."

"Yeah, but you have to work. And I have to work too. I might be able to make some of the spring admissions deadlines for art schools. There are a lot of choices I've never really considered. My parents insisted I go to a regular school."

Blake's eyes stay on mine. He doesn't glance at my exposed torso. Respect or disinterest, I'm not sure. Everything about today feels different. Almost like we're really a couple.

That's a lie.

The reminder isn't hitting me today.

Explanations bounce around my head. Some things are real. Our sex is real.

Maybe this is real too.

I shift onto Blake's lap, my thighs outside his, my crotch over his.

He's warm. Safe. But that's not right. There's nothing safe about this.

He pushes my hair behind my ears.

I wrap my arms around his strong shoulders. I squeeze my thighs around him.

He presses his palm against my lower back.

It sends a shiver up my spine.

When I look back into his eyes, his curiosity is gone. He's shifting back to the Blake I understand. The animal driven by lust and control.

My eyelids flutter together as I kiss him. He tastes like coffee and vanilla. And like Blake.

I slide my tongue into his mouth.

He holds me tighter. Kisses back harder.

His hands slide to my ass. His nails dig into my flesh.

I moan into his mouth. I'm not giving up control this time. I need to touch him everywhere. I need to touch him on my terms.

He drags his fingers over my back and shoulders. Then they're on my neck. Digging through my hair.

Blake pulls back. His eyes find mine. "Get on your back."

I shake my head. "I want to touch you."

"We're doing this my way."

The commanding tone to his voice makes my sex clench. But I can't relent here.

I stare back at his eyes. "I want to touch you."

He nods. "You will. Trust me."

I do. That's the problem.

But this is a compromise. Of sorts.

I need to do this.

His way is fine. No, it's perfect.

I nod. "Okay."

I shift and pull the blanket out of the way. My body sinks into his. I can feel him. He's hard under me. He's almost mine.

Blake grabs my hands and brings them to his shoulders.

I explore his chest with my fingertips. It feels so good to touch him. So much like he's mine.

He grabs my ass and pulls my body into his. His other hand goes to my hair.

He brings my head to his.

And he kisses me. It's hard, but it's sweet.

His way. I like his way.

I explore the nooks and crannies of his torso with my fingertips. There's a soft tuft of hair just below his belly button. I slide my hand beneath it and play with the waistband of his boxers.

He grabs my wrist and brings my hand back to his shoulder. A warning. Or a demand. I'm not sure.

He drags his lips to my ear. "Not yet." He plants kisses down my neck.

Every brush of his lips makes me shudder.

I'm desperate for more of him. For whatever he's willing to give me.

I rub my crotch against his. The friction of my sex against his cock is divine. Those damn boxers are in the way. They press into my tender flesh. They make everything harder. Rougher.

Pleasure knots in my core. I move faster. I groan into his ear.

He groans back against my neck.

His nails dig into my back.

It hurts, but in a good way. It's like he's marking me. Like I'm his.

He kisses me as he brings his hands to my ass and lifts my hips.

His hand brushes my sex.

I groan. I dig my fingers into his shoulders.

He strokes me with his finger.

My sex clenches.

My nipples tighten.

Desire collects between my legs as he rubs me.

I inhale every ounce of ecstasy.

I stare into Blake's eyes, commanding myself to hold his gaze.

It's intense, but I can handle it.

I can handle him.

I keep my eyes glued to his as he strokes me. As he pushes me closer and closer to the edge.

The pressure in my sex builds.

He takes me higher and higher.

Until it's a

ll I can take.

My teeth sink into his lip.

I tug at his hair.

There.

The next flick of his finger pushes me off the edge.

I groan his name as I come.

I stare back into his eyes as my sex pulses with aftershakes. He makes me feel so fucking good.

"Come here." He presses his palm into my lower back. "I need to be inside you."

My nod is heavy. Needy.

He slides his boxers to his knees and brings his hands to my hips.

Slowly, he guides my body over his.

His tip strains against me. Then it's one inch at a time.

Fuck.

He feels so good inside me.