Dirty Little Mistake (Dirty #2) (13 page)

In the dark, hi
s head moved up and down in a slow, lascivious exploration of my body.  In spite of the fact that I couldn’t read his expression, I sensed he was grinning.

With a gasp, I skittered away.  My back hit the wall and my hands closed on the doorframe beside me.  In
a panicked move, I slid up and darted away.

“Hey!” His protest followed me down the hall.

Oh, God. What am I going to do?

I cursed Risa and her stupid plan.  I cursed myself and my willingness to go along with it.

The slap of his bare feet on the hardwood announced his approach and sent my heart rate sky high.  I flattened myself against the wall.

“You can’t get away!” he called mockingly.

“Wanna bet?” I called back, then promptly clapped my hand over my mouth.

His reply was another muted laugh.

What the hell, Brenna? Have you totally lost it?

I was trapped in the guy’s hallway, dressed in my underwear, virtually blind and a shoe-in for a breaking and entering charge.  And he was right, of course.  There was no way I was getting away.  Yet there I was, yelling taunts.

I inched along the wall until my hands found the edge of a doorframe.  Then, in a last ditch effort to prolong my inevitable capture, I slipped into the bedroom and swung the door shut.

But I wasn’t quick enough.

Before I even got my hand off the door, it met with resistance.  I yelped and jumped back.  He came striding into the room, sans-blanket, hands on his hips.

“
You know…The front door
is
unlocked,” he told me softly.

I took a step away.  H
e moved too.  He was so close that if I reached out, I would’ve been able to put my palm on his chest.  I took another step.  My bare calves hit the bed.

Oh, shit!

The silent expletive was followed closely by a mental command in a voice that sounded an awful lot like Risa’s.

Seduce him!

Without a second thought, I grabbed a hold of his undershirt and yanked him toward me.  He stumbled, clearly surprised by the sudden assault.  I used it to my advantage.

And I kissed him.

Chapter Seventeen

Ridley

I’d been through a lot
of shit in my life.  What some people would easily and accurately call heartache.  For some reason, it was harder for me to watch Brenna suffer through dinner with the heartbroken look on her face.

I’d never felt like such a fucking chump.

None it if compared, though, to the pain that writhed through me when Ian followed Brenna out.

It tore me up.

If I hadn’t been so ashamed of my own weakness and if I hadn’t felt compelled to wait politely with Shay, I would’ve slunk out to torment myself further by watching them.

In the end, I’d walked away the second Ian came back inside.  I couldn’t stand knowing what they’d said to each other.

A chump
and
a pussy.

Hours later, t
rue sleep still eluded me, and I finally gave up on my bed and slumped into a restless slumber on the couch.

I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep until t
he scrape of the window sliding against its sill made my eyes fly open.

A curse
– directed at what was inevitably an Ian thing – died in my throat as Brenna Cooper’s voice drifted through the window above my head.  I rolled my head in the direction it’d come from.  Which was up.

What the hell?

I was groggy, but not so bad that I thought I was still dreaming.  Brenna had featured prominently in my sleep-life over the last month and not once had she been dressed a dude getting reading to rob a convenience store.  Nor had she ever been hanging half-in my window while muttering angrily to herself.

Suddenly her shirt flew off and landed beside the couch.

Ah,
I thought with a grin I couldn’t suppress.
That’s more like it.

I wondered if I should call out and alert her to my presence.  I wasn’t sure if there was a rulebook on how to treat home invaders, but it did seem like the gentlemanly thing to do.

I opened my mouth to call out to her, but didn’t get a chance.  She flew forward into the room, skidding a few inches across the floor hard enough to make me wince and sending a cloud of her unique, sweet scent my way.  She called out to someone – probably the roommate – but I couldn’t focus on what she was saying.  Her hands held the edge of the couch, just an inch from my stomach.  Her face was level with my chest.

Close enough to kiss.

It took me a second to realize she was shaking a little as she glanced around the room frantically.  Was she hurt?  Scared?  A strong protective urge almost overwhelmed me.

Back it up
, Ridley. She just broke into your house.

Except I honestly didn’t care.  I just wanted to touch her. 

For the last few days – hell the last few weeks, if I was being honest – I’d been dreaming of her soft, welcoming mouth and wishing to be wrapped in her sweet, sexy curves.

I’d been doing both while pretending – hard – that I was doing neither.

Having her on my living room floor, hair askew and knees red with wood-burn, made it hard for me to remember why that seemed like a good idea in the first place.

What made me so fucking stupid?
I wondered.

I’d been
deluding myself into believing that she hadn’t gotten to me – gotten into my head – so quickly.

I reached for her now,
ready to set the record straight.  For the briefest of moments, she let me smooth her hair back, pliable under my tenderness.  Then she leaped backward.  She landed spread eagle, just a few feet away.

My eyes raked her body, recalling the feel of those smooth legs wrapped around my waist.  My gaze rested on that hot pinkness of her lacy panties and thought of the hot pinkness
underneath
those panties too.

Fuck.
My body needed that.
Say something to her.

“Well,” I teased. “This is a nice view.”

She gasped and slid away.  In seconds, she’d disappeared down the hall, leaving me staring after her in confusion.  I tossed aside my blanket, scooped up her things –
a ski mask…really?
–
and went after her, wondering what the hell her game was.

“You can’t get away,” I called out.

“Wanna bet?”

I couldn’t quite cover my laugh.  I rounded the corner just as she ducked into
my room.  I followed her in.  It was near to pitch black, but I could still see her curved outline, arms up and legs pressed against the bed. 

Her stance was defensive.  It was also just a little bit ridiculous. 

I tipped my head to one side and smiled. “You know…The front door
is
unlocked.”

She jumped forward then, and I thought she was going to force her way past me and out the door.  I almost moved to let her go, but then her lips found mine in a crushing, amorous assault that made it difficult to
do anything other than respond with equal fervor.

In the time it took for her pull me in and tip her head up to close her mouth on mine, my arms were already around her, molding her to my chest.  My hands dragged to her ass, then to the small of her back, then back down once more.  I was desperate to feel her, to touch her, desperate to make up for the
days without contact.  I wanted to know that our time together hadn’t been in my head, and that the feelings she stirred up weren’t one-sided.

I slowed the tempo of the kiss.  I explored her mouth thoroughly, doing my damnedest to fuse the memory with the now.

Yes. They were the same.

Her lips were as sweet as I remembered, her enthusiasm as rich.

Maybe not the same,
I corrected.
This is better.

Her hands were on my back.  Then on my hips.  Then they were inching down my quads.  With a swift, light move that made me groan against her mouth, she reached her fingers into my pajama pants, stroked me once, and then slid around to grip my ass firmly.  She held me there for an agonizing second.  She rocked sideways in just the right way before sliding her hand in once more.  This time her stroke was a little firmer, a little more demanding, and far more maddening.

I was hard, and ready, and about to lose control.

Calm the fuck down, Ridley.

The insistent, commanding voice was right.  The last thing I wanted – or needed – was a complication in my life.

She’d made it clear I wasn’t her first choice.
 

I’d spent years dragging myself from the lure of cheap drinks and girls who used me for the one thing I was good at and no way was a
slip-up going to drag me back.  I wasn’t in a head space that would allow it.

I pulled myself away from her forcefully, determined to ask her what her deal was.

“Br—”

Her lips cut me off once more, even more insistent than the first time.

Jesus.

The way she was pressed against me, dressed in nothing but
her panties and a matching bra, made it impossible to pretend I didn’t want her.  If I tried, my body would just betray me anyway. 

Her tongue darted into my mouth, then out again and heat raged through me.

I don’t stand a chance.

The realization hit me hard.

And if I’m going to suffer, so is she.

My arms came up again quickly, one hand finding her waist and the other the back of her neck.  I slipped my fingers into her hair and pulled.  I used just enough pressure to force her head back, but I was just gentle enough to make her gasp in pleasure too.

My teeth and my lips took turns as I moved down to her collarbone.  Each little nip, each little lick made her shiver.  If I hadn’t been so focused on the tantalizing smoothness of her skin, I might’ve given myself a pat on the back when she moaned, low and fierce, deep in her throat.

But I didn’t have time for that.

I slid my hand from her waist up to her bra strap and unfastened it swiftly.  Her breasts sprang free and her nipples came to immediate attention.  I grazed a thumb over one, then the other, then brought my mouth down to each as well.  I teased and tasted and teased again before trailing a path of hot kisses back up her chest and throat. 

I nibbled her earlobe gently and exhaled a lust-filled moan into her hair.

I spread her thighs with my knee, then drew her leg up to my hip and pulled her against my erection.  Even with the fabric of my pajama pants and the lace of her panties between us, the sensation of being that close was hot as hell.  She clawed at my shirt and I pulled it off obligingly.

Her fingers traced an appreciative pattern over my chest.

Fuck do I want her. Right now.

With a growl, I lifted her from the ground.

“We should stop,” she gasped right in my ear.

At Brenna’s words – which sounded like a lie
– my grip on her hips loosened reluctantly.  As she slipped down a few inches, though, her warm, wet, nearly nude center slipped over my hard, waiting cock.

“You
sure you want me to stop?” My voice was a desire-ridden rumble.

“Yes.”

The tightening of her legs around my waist betrayed the truth.

I
took three steps forward and dropped us to the bed.  I slid down, helping myself to a mouthful of sweet, tender breast.  Her nipple grew firm immediately and I let my tongue play along its ridges, enjoy the soft little moan that accompanied each taste.

I paused for a moment to tease her. “How ’bout now? Still want me to stop?”

“Oh!” she breathed.

“Was that an
oh
or a
no
?”

I didn’t let her answer.  I took her other nipple between my thumb and forefinger and stroked it firmly while I moved my mouth down the length of her torso.

Brenna’s hips lifted under me, driving my mouth even lower.  My lips grazed the top of her panties and she gasped out something unintelligible.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured into her pubic bone. “I didn’t quite catch that last bit.”

“Ian!” she gasped.

I froze.

Did she say
Ian?

“
Ian, we should stop. Or slow down.”

Yep. 
She really thought I was him.

How the fuck was that possible?

I answered the question as quickly as I asked it.

Because she
wants
it to be him.

Bile rose in my throat.
  Not just because Brenna’s case of mistaken identity proved how badly she wanted Ian, but because I’d let myself believe she didn’t.

I was wrong when I’d thought the last thing I needed was a
slip-up.  Really, the last thing I needed was
this
.  A girl who made me feel a hundred emotions I didn’t think I was even capable of.

A
girl who can’t even tell me apart from my cousin in the dark.

“Ian?”

My head jerked up and I rolled to a sitting position. After a moment, I felt Brenna do the same.  I refused to look her way.

“You’re right,” I told her gruffly.
“If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to stop at all.”

That, at least, was the truth.

“This is just moving a little fast for me.”

I ignored the apology in her voice. 

It’s what Ian would do anyway.

“You should go,” I said.

“I should,” she agreed softly.

After another long moment, she stood and walked to the bedroom door, where she paused.

“Ian?”

I gritted my teeth.  I couldn’t stand hearing his name again and again from her voice, but there was no point in correcting her.  It would just embarrass both of us.

“Yeah?”

“Are we still on for tomorrow night?”

The bastard had already planned the second date and hadn’t told me?  Of course he had.  Sonofabitch.  I resisted an urge to cancel their plans.

I made myself confirm instead.
“Yeah, P – err. Yeah, Brenna. We’re still on. And we can pretend this didn’t happen.”

“Okay.”

I didn’t look up as she slipped out and I waited until I heard the front door slam before I gave the bed a bitter kick with my heel. 

I forced myself to lie down.

I stared at the ceiling.

I cursed Ian and his libido.

I cursed myself and
my
libido.

I knew I wasn’t getting back to
sleep anytime soon, but fuck if I was going to acknowledge – for even a second – that the situation hurt me. 

I got up and paced the bedroom
once more.