Dirty Deeds (Get Dirty 3)

My words galvanize Meghan’s body, leaving her panting, her breath smelling like sugar with a faint hint of coffee, making me want to sip the flavor from her lips. I don’t think she means to say it out loud, but a soft hiss escapes her pink lips unbidden anyway. “Yesss.”

I cup her jaw in both hands, forcing her eyes to meet mine and lock. The next words are the hardest words I’ve ever spoken, tearing from the depths of my stomach like coughing up nails. “But we can’t. You know the rules. Dominick would kill me. Literally, most likely. And you deserve better than me. You see me as a dangerous thrill, but I’d ruin you. A night with me would leave your pretty pink pussy in tatters from fucking you so rough because I’m not a gentle lover. I’d take you hard, wringing your orgasms out of you until you passed out in exhaustion. I’d give you so much cum, your pussy couldn’t even hold it all and it would run down your legs.”

Her eyes are dilated, wide and soft as if I’m whispering sweet nothings in her ear. I thought she’d be shocked, maybe even offended by my crude words. Some of me hoped she would be, that she’d be repelled and maybe we could end this dance between us. But it seems this angel has a bit more devil in her body than I thought.

Every bit of me wants to make good on my words, toss her on the chair in the corner and earn the first cries of her orgasm with my tongue between her legs. With the way her skin tasted, death by Dominick’s hand might be worth it.

As much as I don’t want to, I have to tell her the rest, leaning in to smell her hair before whispering in her ear. “As much as that excites you—and yes, my cock is throbbing at the idea too—I’ll break your heart, Angel. I’ll take what I need, make you a dirty mess, and leave. It’s what I do. I’m a bastard, a motherfucker who only hurts those who let me in. You deserve better than me.”

I pull back from her ear, letting her see the truth of my words in my eyes, on my face, knowing that even if I wanted to, I can’t keep her. That’s not who I am. It’s . . . impossible.

The spell is broken, my words sinking into her head, her heart. I can see the moment her desire and arousal turn to hurt, then anger. She pulls back, putting space between us, and I hate it instantly, missing the feel of her so close.

“I see,” she says, turning on a heel and heading toward the lockers. I want to chase her, push her to the ground, and take her like the predator I am. I want to bury myself inside her, feel her spasm as I stake my claim on her body, mind, and soul. Mine.

But this is the right thing to do. Let her push me away for her own sanity and safety. I can take it, even if it hurts. And right now, it does hurt, both in my gut and in my balls.

Just before reaching the curtain to the changing area, Meghan turns back, her eyes flashing dangerously. “You say I deserve more. That’s for me to decide. Don’t act like you get to make decisions for me. Is this just a game to you? Get me all riled up and then squash me with some lame justification that sounds more like a carrot on a stick enticement than a real warning? Well, fu–forget you.”

She pushes the curtain aside, and I feel like I just got punched in the gut. She almost cursed at me. If I needed any more proof, that tells me how hurt she really is. Fucking hell. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I just couldn’t help myself. She calls to me without even meaning to, and I’m barely holding back, for her sake.

She leaves the curtain open, stomping her little body over to her locker and ripping her scrap of a miniskirt out. She glares at me over her shoulder and then pulls it on over her sweats, only dropping them once she has the scrap in place.

I don’t bother telling her that when she bends over to grab the sweats from the floor, I can see the bottom of her ass cheeks, so grabbable and biteable. And the peek of her good girl panties, white with lace trim against her tan flesh, does more for my fantasies than any fancy lingerie ever has.

She snatches her black lace bustier off the hook, holding it to her front like a shield even though she still has her tank top on.