Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little Secrets #1) (9 page)

“Do you have a lot of projects lined up?”
 

“I’m booked out until December,” I lie. Well, it’s not a complete lie; I do have a few projects that I’m working on, but I’m not completely booked out. I just don’t want Ben to know that.

Ben nods. “I’m always looking for talent at my company,” he says, as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a card. “If you ever decide you want to try something other than the freelancing, give me a call. I’d love to take a look at your work.”
 

I take the card, and get a look at the name. Ben
Williams
? Oh god, I’m a huge fan of his work. His firm has been involved in some truly cutting-edge development. It’s all I can do not to squee, and tell him I’ll drop everything for a chance to learn from him.
 

“Always selling something,” Caleb says, shaking his head.
 

I slip the card into my purse, because maybe someday I’ll be able to…

“Don’t tell me you don’t have a stack of cards in your jacket,” Ben says accusingly, before taking a sip of wine. “If you say no, I’ll know you’re lying.”
 

All Caleb says is, “I have more sense than to pull them out at dinner.”
 

Ben rolls his eyes. “You’re acting like I pulled out my-”

“Mia,” Felicity says loudly, turning to me to distract the two of us from the testosterone that seems to be on overload tonight. “Why don’t we go out for lunch soon? Maybe do a little shopping after?”
 

I smile at Felicity. In the background, Ben and Caleb are going on about something else now, thankfully. “I’d like that.”
 

When we get back to Caleb’s apartment, the first thing I see when we walk through the door is my bag safely resting in the corner of the foyer. Caleb jokingly put it there, teasing me about how it would be the first thing to welcome us back when we returned. And here it is. Safe.
 

“Feel better?” he asks, an amused lilt to his voice.
 

“I do.”

Caleb slides his arm around my waist, pushes my hair over my shoulder, then starts kissing and sucking the back of my neck. My back is pressed against his chest, and I lean against him as his hand snakes across my ribs before it cups my breast. I gasp when his thumb slides across my nipple, all the while feeling Caleb smiling against me.
 

The cut of the dress that I’m wearing doesn’t really allow for a bra, so I usually go without. Tonight is no exception, and Caleb is taking full advantage of that, cupping and caressing me with only the thin fabric of my dress between his hand and my skin.
 

“I’ve been wanting you all night,” he says. His voice is low, rumbly, and full of desire. It makes all the hairs on my body stand on end. “I’ve been waiting to have you all to myself again.”
 

“You have me,” I tell him, my voice a breathy whisper.

“Mmmm, I do. Now what am I going to do with you?” His breath is warm against my ear, making me shiver. “I love this dress so much. I could see your nipples through it all night. I’ve been wanting to do this,” he says, giving my nipple a little pinch. I arch my back, wanting to feel more of his hand on my breast, and my ass pushes back against his erection, making him groan.
 

“Caleb?” I ask.

He’s skimming his chin along the crook of my neck, teasing, scratching me with his stubble. “Yeah?”
 

“What else have you been wanting to do?”
 

“This,” he says, sliding his deft hands down my sides, until they reach the hem of my dress. He pulls it up, until the fabric is bunched around my waist, then reaches for my underwear. “Fuck, Mia. You’re not wearing any-”

“Surprise,” I reply, feeling smug.

 
He cups my cheek, turning my head so he can reach my mouth and cover it with hot, lingering kisses. “I can’t believe you went out like this.”
 

“Why, are you jealous?” I’m really turned on, but I also wouldn’t mind having a little argument right now. I think that could only stoke the fire building inside of me.

“I’m just glad I’m the lucky bastard you came home with.”
 

Oh, an argument would be such a waste. These,
these
are the words I want to hear. “So lucky,” I tell him.
 

He slips one arm around my waist, bringing my ass in contact with his erection again as his other hand finds its way between my legs. I let out a soft moan as Caleb’s fingers work their magic on me.
 

“Fuck, you’re wet already.”
 

“I have been for a while,” I say, reaching back and stroking his cock through his pants. I only manage three passes before he pulls away, and I hear the frantic unbuckling of his belt and unzipping of his zipper behind me.
 

Caleb growls, nipping my earlobe. “I want you. Now.”
 

“Then have me,” I tell him, hoping the low, raspy tone in my voice will spur him on. I turn my head and glance over my shoulder. My breath catches as I get a good look at Caleb, all hard and impatient as he rips open a condom and rolls it on.

“Face the wall,” he says gruffly. “Brace yourself against it.”
 

I’m already so turned on, but Caleb telling me what to do, well…that dials everything up about 10 more notches. I do what he says, letting my fingers spread out for leverage as I place my hands against the wall.
 

“Good.” He slides his hand down my back, making my ass arch out toward him. He reaches down and runs his hands up the insides of my thighs. “Spread your legs.”
 

Slowly, Caleb’s arm finds its way across my middle, pulling me back, close to his body. He’s so warm, and I just want his skin against mine, but it seems like he has other plans for now. I spread my legs for him, and the second I do, I’m rewarded with his lips pressing kisses along the crook of my neck.
 

“How do you want me to fuck you?” he asks.
 

My eyes flutter shut. I fight the urge to tell him to take me any way he wants, because I feel like I’ll only drag this out if I’m anything less than incredibly specific. “Fast,” I tell him. This isn’t going to be about tender touches and teasing. This is about hot, insatiable need. “Hard.”
 

Caleb slides the head of his cock along my slit, pressing it against my clit to the point where I’m pushing back into him, desperate for more.
 

“Please,” I beg.
 

Just that one little word sets Caleb off, and he pushes into me, making us both groan.
 

“More,” I gasp. “Harder.”
 

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He’s holding onto me tightly, pounding his hips against me.
 

“You feel so good, Mia.” He’s practically breathless.
 

He feels amazing to me, stretching me, hitting me so deep in just the right spot.
 

“Make me feel
better
,” I breathe.
 

Even in his frantic hurry to fuck me, he manages to exhale a little laugh, but he does exactly what I ask him to. He starts stroking my clit, his other hand gripping my breast. The fabric of my dress rubs against my nipples, making them harder. He keeps working my clit as he pounds into me, and it’s all too much. I let my head fall back to rest against Caleb’s shoulder, leaving my neck open for the taking, because it seems to be his favorite spot.
 

“I’m…I…”
 

“You gonna come?” he asks. His voice is thready and tight, like he’s holding on by a string, staving off his orgasm until I have mine.
 

“Yeah. Yes, just…”
 

Like he knows what I’m going to ask him for, he rubs my clit a little harder, a little faster, and before I know it I’m falling apart in his arms. He lets me ride it out, and then I feel him stiffen behind me, his hips stuttering in an unfocused rhythm as he comes.
 

After, I’m leaning against the wall with my head pressed against it, my body too weak to hold itself up without assistance. Caleb turns me in his arms, and gives me a soft, breathless kiss.
 

“I was bored the day we met,” he says, looking down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “I walked into that bar on a whim.”
 

I want to tell him that I’m glad he did, but I keep my mouth shut until he says what it is he wants to say.
 

“I don’t have a history of making good decisions in bars,” he admits, his nose brushing against mine before he leans in for another kiss. “But now I do.”
 

“I wish you would let me come and pick you up,” Caleb says. “I’m leaving the office now, I can come and get you on my way home.”
 

“No, it’s okay,” I tell him. “It’s out of the way, and will take longer. Besides, I’m already on my way to you.” I’ve been staying in this shitty hotel for almost three weeks now, and all of my tracking programs are showing the same thing that they have since I left Chicago: absolutely nothing. Every day I feel braver, am a little less paranoid when I step out into public. I’m willing to leave some of my clothes in the hotel at this point, but never my computer. I still carry it everywhere with me, but every day I think that maybe, maybe someday soon I’ll feel comfortable walking around without it. Every day I think maybe this will all turn out okay.
 

I blatantly ignore the fact that at some point I’m going to have to deal with the friends I left back home, who are going to wonder what happened to me, and why I haven’t come back. I wonder if I could gradually phase them out, and just lose touch with them. The thought of not going back home again gives me this pang of sadness in my belly, but it’s better than the alternative. If not being able to go back to Chicago is the only price I wind up paying for what I did, then I’m going to consider myself truly lucky.
 

“Mia,” Caleb says, sounding exasperated. He doesn’t like me walking alone when he can send the car for me, I know this.
 

“You can keep me company while I walk.” I’m hoping that agreeing to stay on the phone while I walk will placate him.
 

“Okay,” he says warily. “Tell me about your day.”
 

“I did some coding, ventured out into the sunlight to get a salad at the deli on the corner. I talked to a friend for a little while. That’s pretty much it.”
 

“Sounds exciting,” he says dryly.
 

“The most exciting part of my day usually comes at night.” I’m grinning, because the thought of going to see him makes me feel like wild butterflies have taken up residence in my stomach. It’s like I don’t have a care in the world.
 

“Literally,” he replies.

“Literally,” I repeat, laughing. “How was your day?”
 

“Too long. I sat through never-ending conference calls, and all I could think about was you.”
 

“I’ll be there soon enough,” I tell him. “I just wanted to get some fresh air, and I’ll be there in no time. What was your conference call about?”
 

“I don’t want you to fall asleep while you’re walking.”
 

I laugh. “Please, tell me.”
 

As he recounts the business of his day, I hustle, trying to make it a few more blocks, so my cab fare the rest of the way is cheaper. I like listening to the steady sound of Caleb’s voice; I get lost in it, even, to the point where I’m just going through the motions of walking, not really paying much attention to what I’m doing. Vaguely, I hear the thrum of running footsteps, but I don’t pay them any mind.
 

All of a sudden, there’s a hard tug on my arm, and I feel the straps of my bag slide down. I manage to catch it with my hand, and tug. I know this is a stupid thing to do, and I know it goes against every single piece of advice about being robbed that I’ve ever heard, that no material thing is worth my life.
 

“No,” I yell. “No!”
 

In the background, through the speaker of my phone, Caleb is frantically calling my name.

I can’t see the face of the man who is robbing me; I only get a glimpse of his jaw as his fist connects with my face. I fall to the ground, my head hitting something hard, and then everything goes black.
 

My head feels stuffy and full, like every available bit of space inside of it is packed with cotton. The right side of my face is throbbing, and I know it’s swollen, because the skin feels stretched to its limit. I think the entire right side of my face might explode at any moment. I manage to open my eyes just a sliver, hoping that I’ll be able to figure out exactly where I am. Even the little bit of light that finds its way in is so bright that it actually hurts. There’s a dull throb at the base of my neck, and everything combined has completely sapped whatever strength I had in me. I know that if I try to push myself any further right now that I’ll wind up being in more pain than I already am.

Instead of focusing on everything that’s wrong right now, I focus on the warm, steady weight on my right hand. All of my energy goes toward that warmth, and moving my fingers to hold onto it tightly. There are calluses beneath my fingertips, and I know without a doubt that I’m holding Caleb’s hand. Or, he’s holding mine. I suppose it doesn’t matter. The thought of him sitting here with me—wherever it is that I am—brings me such comfort that all my panic completely subsides. He’s here, and I’m safe. I
know
this. I’d like to smile at him, but I can’t get the right muscles to move.
 

Instead, I close my eyes, sink back into the softness of the pillows behind my head, and I let myself drift.
 

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