Dirty: The Complete Series (Secret Baby Romance Love Story) (116 page)

“When was the last time you dated
someone—like really dated them?”

I shrugged. “I’ve had a few dates since
the divorce,” I said, taking another sip of my wine. It was the best red I’d
had in a long time—fruity without being overpoweringly sweet, rich and
full-flavored in my mouth. “But with the job, going out on actual dates is kind
of…”

“A busman’s holiday?” I nodded.

“You know,” Zeke said, shifting in his
seat once more and swallowing down a little more wine, “At the risk of completely
overstepping my boundaries here…”

“That ship has sailed,” I interjected.

“Anyway,” he said, holding his glass up to
the light and looking at its contents for a moment before sipping again, “I think
the thing that sort of…gets to me, in a way…is that I haven’t gotten laid in so
long.”

“Oh God,” I said, covering my eyes with my
hands. “This is not a safe topic of discussion.”

“We’re half-tipsy and we’re both adults,”
he pointed out. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to regain my
composure.

“It’s been a while for me, too,” I
admitted.

“Well, women are expected to not be all
that into sex,” he countered. “I’m not saying that’s accurate or right, but
it’s the expectation. Everyone sees a guy who isn’t having sex with however
many women he can—or at least with a girlfriend or a wife—and they think there
must be something wrong with him.”

“Are you seriously only doing this
matchmaking thing to get laid?”

Zeke shook his head emphatically. “I want
a relationship,” he said. “I want companionship. The whole deal. That’s why I
haven’t been getting laid.”

“Run that by me again?” I knocked back the
last of the wine in my glass, and he obligingly refilled both of our glasses;
thankfully it seemed like we’d gotten through the whole bottle, finally.

“I’ve had a few one-night stands here and
there,” he explained, “but I hate them. It’s always bad sex when it’s that
situation.” I considered that for a moment; I had only had a few one-night
stands in my life before I’d met Alex. I nodded my agreement with Zeke’s point.
“So, I guess in some stupid way, I thought that if I could get a woman to go on
a few dates with me—real dates—then I might actually get laid again finally.” I
laughed out loud and hen clapped my hand over my mouth, remembering Brady
asleep in his room.

“Good sex isn’t that hard,” I said,
shaking my head.

“Not for a woman,” Zeke said
challengingly. I rolled my eyes.

“Not for anyone,” I countered. “It takes
communication, but it’s not that difficult.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Prove it,” he said. I stared at him for a
moment in shock.

“Did you—did you just proposition me for
sex?”

He hesitated for a moment and then nodded.
“I did,” he said, smiling slightly. I opened my mouth, realized that I had no
idea what to say, and then closed it again. I drank down some of my wine while
I tried to think.
This is a terrible
idea—don’t even consider it! You would absolutely ruin your career in one fell
swoop if you did it.
But the memory of kissing Zeke, of feeling his hard,
muscular body through his clothes, pressed up against mine, filled my head.

“Come on,” I said, setting my wine glass
down and standing up.

“What?” I reached for his hand and pulled
him off of the couch.

“You told me to prove it,” I said, my
heart beating faster in my chest and my whole body heating up. Zeke’s bright
eyes widened and he wrapped his arms around me, pressing my body against his.
He licked his lips and before I could even question what had possessed me, he
was kissing me—hungrily, passionately, without even a moment’s hesitation. I
draped my arms around his broad, muscled shoulders and rose up onto the balls
of my feet, letting him deepen the kiss, opening my mouth as soon as his tongue
slid against my lips.

We stayed like that for what seemed like
an hour, just kissing, and I began to let my hands wander, trailing along his
back, over his arms, down to his tight, firm ass. Zeke’s hands came to life on
my body as well, exploring the curves from my hips to my waist to my breasts,
touching me everywhere. Every nerve in my body began to tingle with sensation,
and I felt myself getting more and more turned on by the moment, heating up. I
realized as Zeke broke away from my lips to kiss along the column of my throat
that I was already soaking wet—I could feel the dampness of my panties against
my skin. It had been so long since I’d been with anyone, and while I had a
vibrator very carefully hidden away in my underwear drawer, it was nothing to
compare to just the feeling of Zeke’s body pressed against mine, even with
layers of clothes between us. I felt like I was burning up. I had to know what
his body looked like under all that fabric, I had to know what his skin felt
like, I had to know everything I could possibly find out about his body.

I pulled back, panting for breath, and
Zeke gave me a sharp, concerned look. “Bedroom,” I told him breathlessly; I
didn’t have enough brainpower for more than a single word. I could feel the
alcohol and arousal buzzing and humming through my body, making it impossible
to think, to even wonder if I was making the biggest mistake of my entire life.
I grabbed Zeke’s hand and tugged him in the direction of my bedroom; I couldn’t
wait, not even for a moment. I closed the door behind us and turned on the
light, and suddenly remembered Brady. “Fuck,” I muttered, looking around my
room.

“What’s wrong?” Zeke’s hands curled around
my hips and I wanted to say that nothing was wrong—I wanted to forget that I
was a mom, that I was a divorced, single mom—but I couldn’t.

“Brady,” I told him quickly. “I don’t want
to wake him up.” Zeke’s eyes widened.

“I can go—I shouldn’t have suggested
this.”

“You can shut up and let me figure
something out,” I told him sharply. “I know you are every bit as turned on as I
am right now.” He laughed, and covered his mouth with his hand to muffle the
sound.

My darting gaze landed on the Bluetooth
speaker I’d gotten as a Secret Santa gift at the company holiday party the year
before and inspiration struck. I grabbed my phone with fumbling hands and
picked an album at random: Daniel Johns’
Talk
.
I connected to the speaker and almost threw the phone away from me, turning
back to Zeke as the music came on—just loud enough to hopefully cover any
noises we might make.

He kissed me again and then we were
tumbling onto the bed together, and I didn’t even have the time or the interest
to feel guilty about the fact that the sheets and blankets were all rucked
about, that my room was messy; all I could focus on was the goal of getting
Zeke naked, of feeling him inside of me. Our clothes fell away bit by bit, our
hands tangling up in the effort to get each other naked as quickly as possible.
He chuckled, burying his face against my breasts and nuzzling me as soon as he
had my bra off. “How long do you think we’ll be able to last?” I shook my head.

“I don’t care,” I told him, giggling. “I
just want…” I took a deep breath. He looked up into my eyes and grinned slowly.

“I know exactly what you want,” he told me.
I struggled with the fly of his jeans, but finally managed to get the tough
fabric over his hips, revealing the briefs underneath—dark red, straining under
the pressure of his erection pressing against the material. My eyes widened at
the sight; Alex had been—at least in my memory—more or less average. Certainly,
I’d never had any real complaints. But the bulge of Zeke’s erection actually
gave me pause.

“We are going to go so,
so very slow,” I told him, looking up at his face again. He laughed, covering
my body with his own. Somehow he’d managed to get me down to nothing but my
panties before I could even notice what he was doing; I was too absorbed in
stripping him down to care what was happening to my own clothes. He reached a
hand up between my legs and began to rub the heel of his palm against me,
sending electric, crackling jolts of pleasure through my body. It was so much
better than my vibrator—I didn’t know how I’d managed to fool myself for so
long that masturbating was “just as good.”

Zeke’s fingers slid underneath the elastic
waistband, slipping under the fabric, and as he began to stroke and rub me, I
moaned out, twisting and writhing underneath him, my hips bucking and shifting
to get better contact with his probing, teasing fingers. I groped along the
lines of his body until I found the ridge of his hard cock, and I began to
stroke him in counterpoint to his touches, feeling the thickness, the heat, the
heaviness of his erection.

When I was sure I couldn’t possibly take
anymore teasing, his fingers retreated from my pussy and caught on the
waistband of my panties. He tugged the fabric down over my hips in one fast
movement, and I gasped—caught between startled almost-fear and delight. In
moments, there was nothing between us at all. He held himself up on his knees
and elbows, rocking his hips against mine, teasing me with his hot, hard cock
rubbing along my labia. “Fuck—Zeke—Jesus…” I rubbed myself against him, wanting
more—needing it.

“You said slow,” he told me playfully,
letting the tip of his cock press up against my clit as he continued to rock
against me.

“Not
this
slow,” I countered. He laughed and kissed me until I was breathless, shifting
on top of me, reaching down between our bodies to adjust himself against me. I
felt the tip of his cock rubbing along my inner labia before he thrust into me
slowly—achingly slowly. He filled me up inch by inch, pushing past the
resistance of my body, and I moaned long and low against his lips, grabbing at
his shoulders helplessly as I took him deeper and deeper.

I wrapped my legs around his waist,
pushing my hips down to meet his thrusts, and Zeke began to move inside of me
slowly and steadily, sliding in and out. The friction felt delicious; I hadn’t
realized how much I had missed sex, how much I had wanted the feeling of
someone inside of me, until I had it again. I kissed him over and over again,
letting my lips wander from his mouth to his neck and down to his shoulders and
even his chest, tasting him everywhere. The pleasure built up in my body so
fast that I struggled to almost suppress it—I wanted to last as long as
possible, I wanted to savor the moment of his hips pressed flush against mine,
the feeling of his pubic bone rubbing against my clit, the tip of his cock
barely brushing against my g-spot.

Zeke began to speed up moment by moment,
and I fell into his rhythm, twisting and writhing underneath him as I tried to
keep myself just short of climax for as long as possible. He kissed me
everywhere his lips could reach, licking and nipping and nibbling at my
sensitive skin as we moved together. I couldn’t hold back any longer; I felt
the tension that had been building up somewhere deep down between my hips snap
all at once, and wave after wave of pleasure crashed through my body as I came.
I tried to muffle my moans against Zeke’s neck, against his lips, against his
shoulder, but as I felt his cock beginning to twitch inside of me, my climax
only got more intense. I knew the moment he came, groaning against my lips, his
whole body shuddering just slightly as I felt the hot, sticky-slick gush of him
inside of me. We kept moving together, both of us trying to keep the climax
going as long as possible—but after what felt like forever, we both fell back
against the bed, gasping and panting for breath, dripping with sweat, as the
music swirled around us.

Chapter
Twenty

Zeke

“You’re actually leaving on time today,
Zeke?” I glanced away from the elevator doors to see one of the other
executives coming towards me.

“I’ve heard there’s this thing called
work-life balance,” I told Tom, grinning. “Thought I might try it.”

“Good call,” Tom said, coming to a stop at
the elevator at my side. “You’ve been cheerful lately. What’s the secret?” I
shrugged.

“Just getting my personal life more
interesting,” I said. I glanced at the clock in the lobby; I was supposed to be
meeting with Natalie for another practice date in about an hour, and I was more
excited for the date ahead of us than I had been for any of the ones we’d been
on before. I had something really special in mind—and I knew she would just
love it.

Tom and I got onto the elevator and I
tried to keep my patience as the car started to slowly make its way down to the
ground floor. Ever since I’d spent the night at Natalie’s place, I couldn’t
wait to see her again. I’d put Trevor on the task of finding the perfect date
for her, and he’d come through in a big way.
Remember to give him a bonus at the next review,
I told myself.

Finally, the elevator came to a stop at
the ground floor and I said goodbye to Tom, wishing him luck with his wife;
she’d had their second kid three months before, and they were both feeling the
strain of it. I hurried out to my car, shifting the strap of my laptop bag off
of my shoulder and grabbing my keys. I should—I hoped—have just enough time to
change out of my suit and into something more appropriate for the date Trevor
had planned for me and Natalie to go on. I dropped my keys on the garage floor
and cussed, bending over to pick them up.