Dirty Little Secret (2 page)

Women glanced up, over, and around, his dark good looks drawing them in. He knew what they saw; he saw it in the mirror every day. A stranger. The crisp, dark hair, brown eyes, engaging smile—they belonged to someone he didn’t recognize anymore. Inside he was numb, hanging in a limbo that dulled the hungry edge with which he usually tackled life, completely disconnected from the successful business persona that conquered anything put in his path. Oh, he knew why, understood what the problem was, but he couldn’t fix it. Just wallow in it, hide it, and hate himself the whole time.

He shook his head and straightened, turning toward the door. He had to get back to the office before he got downright maudlin, and that he would never accept, ever.

The wide glass doors leading out to the street still loomed half a room away when he spotted her, the sight literally stopping him in his tracks. Thick, curly blonde hair swayed to below her shoulders, and when she pushed it back to tuck behind a delicate ear, soft caramel eyes shone in the dark of the room. She looked younger than his own thirty-six years, or maybe that was just the innocence in her unlined face talking. But her body didn’t say innocent; it screamed
come take me
. All lush curves and mysterious hollows encased in a black dress that should be declared illegal for the way it conformed to her shape. Damn if his cock didn’t sit up and beg with that very first glimpse. And the longer he looked, the harder he got, until every single thought vanished and all he could concentrate on was making his way toward her. He needed to know her name; he wasn’t sure why, and he didn’t care. Knowing was all that mattered.

Think, idiot, and with something besides your hard-on. Can you afford this?

White-knuckling the wrought iron to halt his progress, he stopped, dropped his head, forcing out the picture of her lithe form making her way down to the dance floor.
Weigh the cost. Consider the risks
. But all his brain wanted was to justify his hungry gaze on her.

The past two years had been consumed with protecting his reputation, insulating himself from innuendo, rumor, the wagging tongues that followed success—his in particular. Practicality said that at some point, he had to have another woman, if for no other reason than to relieve the constant blue balls he lived with every day. His libido shouted
yes!
at the thought, but his brain brought the tongue-hanging drive for sex to a screeching halt. His arms shook at the force of his grip on the balcony, but he refused to let go.
Think.

He closed his eyes, letting the world around him fall slowly away. Okay, so he’d think. One, he was in a new city, one not nearly as gossip hungry as LA. Two, it hadn’t been long enough for his employees to get to know him, professionally and personally, or for him to worry about what they might say. Not that he’d seen anyone he knew tonight anyway. And three, if he didn’t act and act soon, he was gonna fucking do something drastic, like throw himself off the nearest bridge high enough to put him out of his misery.

That’s what he told himself, anyway.

The truth was, she captivated him. No name, no conversation, not even eye contact. None of it mattered. When he raised his eyes and caught sight of her in the midst of the crowd, slender arms arched above her body as she writhed to the beat of the music, logic fled, and the heavy haze of desire demanded he have her.

Guess that answered his question. He really was losing touch with reality.

Too bad. For the first time that he could remember, Alex Brannigan threw caution completely to the wind and made a decision based solely on his dick. God forgive me, he thought as he made his way down to the lower level. There was no going back now.

A PAUSE IN the cacophony was followed by the sultry sound of a sax filtering across the dance floor. Cailin stopped to catch her breath at the sound. She hadn’t been completely alone as she danced; several men had approached, partnered her for a few minutes, then left, leaving her available for another dance, another partner. She’d thought she would feel awkward dancing with strangers, but she didn’t. She enjoyed it. And she didn’t feel like a slut, either.

As the timbre of the music worked its way into her bones, she let her body move, sway, absorb the pleasure of sense and sound. When broad, heavy palms landed on her rocking hips, she startled. She whipped her head around, only to meet the darkest, sexiest brown eyes she’d ever seen. They blazed with emotion in a face that put Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, and every other Sexiest Man Alive to absolute shame. Her mouth opened in a soft “oh” as she stared.

God, he was beautiful.

And then he smiled. It was soft, secretive, sexy. Steaming. Her legs wobbled beneath her, but his grip kept her upright. Then his body made contact with hers—full-body contact, her back, point by point, met by the muscled heat of his chest, stomach, thighs. A gasp escaped as his pelvis brushed the base of her spine and an unmistakably rigid bulge made itself known. The next moment, she was lost in the intensity of his touch.

Her head turned to the side, Cailin tried to smile, but nerves and something else had wicked the moisture from her lips. He moved against her, his hips more agile than Patrick Swayze’s in
Dirty Dancing
, and nuzzled his sharp nose against the cheek closest to him.

“Hi.”

Her head reeled, her tongue tied itself in a firm knot, and she wished the solid floor beneath her would do her a favor and swallow her whole. Fast. “Hi.”

And then she gave herself up to the music. Talking was impossible, but moving wasn’t. And it felt delicious. She melted into the firm body supporting her, countered the sway of his hips, and fell in love with a man she’d spoken only one word to. Of course, she only loved him for his body. Nothing could compare. Nothing could ever feel as good as he felt against her. His arms circled her waist, his hands flat on the soft curve of her stomach. She wanted them on her breasts. On her mound. Between her legs. The music made love to her, one beat at a time, and he partnered it perfectly until her brain couldn’t think, couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. Didn’t want to. All she wanted was for this moment to last forever.

Which, of course, it couldn’t.

At the music’s final note, the man turned her in his arms, his tight grip pulling her into his body until her front was as firm against him as her back had been. She looked up—and up. Her head tilted back farther than she’d imagined it would have to in order to meet those chocolate eyes. He had to be at least six-four, much taller than Sean—

No, she wouldn’t think about Sean tonight. In the fantasy world she’d created, Sean no longer existed. He belonged to tomorrow and reality. Now was for sweet heat and the fantasy lover staring down at her.

“I’m Alex,” he said. His voice was a mix of gravel and velvet, the sound clenching her womb. Cailin blushed as a rush of hot moisture coated her inner thighs.

“Cailin.”

Alex tucked his head down to hear her, and at her name, he turned, eye to eye, his wide pupils mesmerizing her. Time stopped. Sound receded. And then he wet his bottom lip with a slick pink tongue. “Nice to meet you, Cailin.”

That seductive smile flashed again, so close she could touch it, taste it, before he straightened. The press of the heavy wall of his chest into her sensitive breasts brought a moan to her lips, one she abruptly cut off as soon as she realized what she’d done.
Jeez, Cailin. Get it together
. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact his eyes heated further, and he rubbed lightly against her. In the back of her mind was the thought that if anyone else had pulled that move, she would have to remove his balls with her knee, but with Alex, it felt right. She didn’t know why. It just did.

Music swelled again, and Alex took control, moving her against him, the subtle rubbing of their bodies the most sensual foreplay she’d ever experienced. She knew in that moment that she would have sex with this man. If he wanted her—and the erection still going strong between them said he did—she would have him. She wouldn’t lose this opportunity. Guess she’d found her courage…in his arms.

The minutes passed with no regard to how much she wanted them to pause. As the next song came to an end, she realized they were close to the edge of the dance floor. Alex stepped aside, took her hand in his, and led her toward what looked like a dark hallway heading off to one side. Cailin balked, some unwanted feminine instinct waking her to reality and danger, but Alex soothed her. “Offices. The owner’s a friend of mine. I thought we could talk someplace quieter.”

Turning for a last look at the crowded dance floor, she followed him down the long hall, berating herself for the stupidity of the move but unable—or unwilling—to say no. Something deep down in her soul, some gut feeling she thought she’d lost when her marriage fell to pieces, trusted this man. Maybe it was the way he seemed to read her mind, to know what she needed before she did. The way he anticipated every move, as if even a breath didn’t escape his notice. She’d never felt like the center of a man’s entire concentration. She wanted more, wanted to bask in the intensity of Alex’s attention.

And the occasional employee passing them assured her they weren’t completely alone. If she screamed, someone would hear. Wouldn’t they?

A wide, heavy door marked, appropriately enough, OFFICE waited at the end of the passageway. Alex knocked, and a dark-haired man with classic playboy looks opened the door. The surprise on his face eased more of her worry. So this wasn’t a regular occurrence; thank God, even if she did want to sink through the floor in embarrassment.

“Damien, could I—”

“No problem.” The man didn’t ask for an explanation, and his cheeky grin said he didn’t need any. “Just lock up when you leave.” He nodded politely at Cailin before turning to walk back the way they’d come.

Alex gave a rueful snort and dragged her inside. The minute the door clicked shut, he had her backed against its unforgiving surface.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered roughly. “I need—”

Cailin kissed him before he could finish.

Chapter Two

Her mouth was sweet, silken heat. It seared his senses, fired a passion he swore he’d never felt before. He opened his mouth over hers, driving his tongue between her full lips, and entered paradise.

The door at her back was unforgiving, allowing him to feel every soft inch of her body as he pressed her into it. Firm, ripe breasts, nipples spiking into his chest. Womanly hips and belly, just the way he liked them. The hollow of her thighs nestled his sweetly, allowing him slight access to the center of her body. The only thing he couldn’t feel, he grabbed with both hands—a high, full ass that yielded to his touch just enough for a firm, perfect grip. She felt faultless, fitting him like a missing puzzle piece, and her kiss tasted of heat and hunger and a desperate need to match his own.

“Cailin…”

The sound of her name faded along with his thoughts at the tentative touch of delicate fingers against his jaw. They explored the evening stubble covering his cheeks and chin, rubbed against the sharp prickles of hair marching down his throat, then drove upward to sink into the sides of his hair and grip tight as he nibbled the tip of her tongue. Panting breaths filled the space between them as they devoured each other, need mounting with every exhale. The need for more. A need he couldn’t deny.

Hands shaking with the sheer force of his desire, he eased along the curve of her ass, his heart kicking at the lack of panty lines, then smoothed around to her nipped-in waist and up the soft contours of her rib cage. Losing the press of her body against his chest just about killed him, but her breasts waited, beckoning, and he needed his hands on them. Dark eyes met caramel as he palmed her, hands full and then some, and ran rough thumbs across both tight nipples. Cailin tipped her head back against the door and moaned, arching into his touch.

He was minutes, maybe seconds from the point of no return, but the memory of the innocence that rested behind her closed eyelids, such a sharp contrast to her made-for-pleasure body, had him asking, “Cailin?”

Heavy lids drifted up at his voice. She stared at the ceiling as if in a daze.

“Cailin, look at me.”

Her gaze met his as her pelvis tilted forward. She ground lightly against his hard-on. “You feel so good. It’s—” She clamped the rest of her sentence off behind tight lips.

He leaned his forehead against hers. “You feel good too. Too good. I need to know you’re with me, Cailin. I can’t…” Her mound circled against him again, and it was his turn to moan, his words trailing into the ether.

Then her lips were against his, her breath moist as she whispered into his mouth, “Yes.”

He hooked his fingers in the low neckline of her dress and pulled, taking the lace of her bra with them. He could feel the rapid pounding of her heart but kept his gaze locked with hers. Passion flickered there like an old-fashioned flip book, flashes of something else playing hide-and-seek as the fabric moved lower and lower still—fear, maybe, or…no. Embarrassment. Of her body, or of what they were doing? She wanted the sex as much as he did; he knew that. But this wasn’t normal for her. The truth of that was clear in her eyes.

In seconds her breasts were on display for him, and he dropped desperate eyes to see her. Beautiful, creamy mounds with hard pink nipples stretched toward him. He traced the blue veins mapping the route to those delectable tips, circling each sensitive nub before moving along another line, then back again. Gasps of pleasure escaped Cailin’s lips, rising into a wail when he gripped both nipples between fingers and thumbs and squeezed. He pulled out, milking her, lost in the dazed hunger consuming her face.

“Please!” She grabbed his head and pulled him to her. He surrounded a jutting tip with eager lips and suckled hard. Cailin screamed his name.

The last harness on his control broke in that moment. There was no going slow, no patience, no thought left. Only fast. Hard. Now. That was all he knew. Her breast in his mouth, he sent one hand seeking under the hem of her stretchy skirt. When he encountered skin, he popped off her nipple to curse soundly before taking the swollen peak lightly between his teeth and searching out the apex of her thighs.