The Dirty Anthology (14 page)

Chapter 3

I’ve spent all of the morning, lunch, and afternoon with my dick half hard—an aching experience that’s left me in a sour mood. I can’t stop thinking about her or our kiss. Her soft lips against mine along with the small moan that left her and rippled through me.

My body still begs for her, unable to come down from her high. Maybe, just maybe, if I have her, I’ll be able to get rid of my obsession, but there are two problems with that. One being that I will lose my friendship with Cooper and very possibly land myself in the hospital. The other problem? I worry if I give in and have her once, I’ll want more.

I’m already addicted to everything about her. A monster salivating to devour the fair maiden.

How am I going to be able to stay away for the next three weeks?

If I’m being honest, I know the answer. Just as I know if she shows up in front of me right now, I’ll fuck her until we both pass out. And then I won’t let go of her until somebody pries my hands off her.

She’s made me into a highly unstable being.

I need to get off.

Thankfully she’s not sitting at her desk when I exit and head down the hall to the bathroom. Stomping in, I’m pissed to find someone is in the stall. I contemplate going to a different floor when the door opens behind me.

I rush forward to one of the urinals and undo my pants. A hiss forces its way out of me as I grab onto my cock and pull it out. It’s pure force of will to take a piss with a hard-on, and almost equally so when almost hard, but I manage it.

There is the unmistakable feeling of eyes on me, but the sound of the toilet flushing draws my attention away. Maybe if the guy who came in after me would leave, I could get in the few minutes of dick pumping I need. With a glance at the urinal next to me, I quickly realize that’s not going to happen.

The eyes I felt are staring at my dick as the guy bites his lip. He looks up at me and smiles, a blush racing across his cheeks when he realizes he’s been caught. I recognize him from Accounts Receivable. Hired about a year ago right out of college.

“What? Never seen one up close?”

I stuff my cock back in my pants, wincing in pain.

His eyebrow lifts, the smirk on his face nothing but flirtatious, even though he still seems a little embarrassed that I caught him. “Never one that nice.”

“Sorry, it’s taken.”

His eyes grow wide, the blush growing. I walk past him and out the door.

Fuck her for getting me this deranged and worked up.

    I’m so lost in my thoughts that the next time I look at my clock, it’s after six—time to leave. I pack up my laptop and shut everything else down. Hopefully my head will clear overnight and I’ll forget how right she feels close to me. If I can just erase that, I can go back to just the painful wanting. How am I going to get through the next few weeks after tasting her?

The moment I shut the door, I stop dead in my tracks, still clutching the handle. Alyssa is standing at her desk, bending over to pick up her bag.

She lets out a gasp. “Oh, my God, Dean! You scared me.”

I blink at her. She’s changed—no longer in her office attire, instead gracing a pair of skin-tight jeans and some off-the-shoulder top that gives her a cute and sexy vibe at the same time. It suits her, but it also makes her look so much younger.

“Sorry.” It’s all I can manage to say. I let the handle go, the bolt clicking into place. “You’re here late.”

She walks around her desk, her sexy heels peeking out of her bag. The height they provide is lost in her flats, and I’m left tilting my head down further to look at her petite frame.

“I shrunk,” she says with a small smile, seeming to read my action.

We head down the hallway together. “Pocket-size isn’t a bad thing.”

Her elbow connects with my ribs, and she glares up at me. “Jerk.”

I smile down at her. “What kept you here so late?”

She blows out a breath and rolls her eyes. “Coop.”

“Sibling problems?” I hold my hand out to keep the elevator doors from closing as she steps in.

“He’s playing protective older brother and getting into my business.” The corners of her mouth turn down, accentuating her annoyed look. “He still thinks I’m a little girl.”

I quirk my brow at her. “Little? Yes. Girl?” My tongue sweeps across my lips. “No.”

Suddenly, the elevator is a very bad place to be—a closed off space with only us.

She turns her body toward me. “No, I’m not.”

The atmosphere is heavy. My hands clench into fists to stop from reaching out to her. I clear my throat as the doors open and step out, once again making sure they stay open for her to walk through.

“You changed clothes,” I say to fill the awkward, strained air.

She nods. “Yeah, I’m going out with some friends.”

We walk out to the parking garage, the sun still shining through the slats of concrete, and I pull out my keys. “Have fun.”

She stands on her tiptoes and her soft lips press against my cheek. “Thank you for walking me out.”

My jaw locks, and I nod. I make sure she gets in her car and is off before jumping in my own. I slam back against the head rest a few times. The spot of her kiss still tingles, sending pulsing shocks down to my balls and up my shaft. Every part of me is tense, and I have to shake my fingers out to get the blood flowing in them again from the harsh clench I had them in.

With a turn of the key I’m off, peeling out of the parking lot and getting my ass home so I can get off. But I’m left alone with myself and my actions on the drive home.

“I need to pull a friend favor,” Cooper said one day at lunch.

“Sure.”

Cooper had dropped everything more than once to help me out, so I didn’t even wait to hear what it was before accepting.

“Alyssa needs an internship this summer, and it looks better if it’s not with a family member.”

Over the years, I’d seen Alyssa a dozen times or so but heard about her on a regular basis. She’s eleven years younger than Cooper. He and his younger brother, Damian, are every bit the definition of protective, older brothers. The last time I’d seen her was a few years back and she very much looked like a little girl.

Well, not little, but definitely nowhere near how she looked when I saw her again six weeks ago. Walking into my office to find a gorgeous
woman
had my dick’s attention in a fraction of a second. The glare from Cooper as he reintroduced us though, spoke volumes.

I can’t help but palm my crotch at the memory of how she looked. Every naughty secretary fantasy I’d ever had popped into my head and I was ready to enact them with her.

That night at the bar, I learned just how fucked I was.

“My little sister isn’t some piece of pussy or a rebound girl.” He slammed his bottle down on the bar. “She’s a motherfucking princess, and any motherfucker who goes near her better fucking treat her that way. And if they don’t, they’re gonna find themselves six feet fucking under. I don’t give a motherfucking shit who they are.” He leaned in and sneered at me. “Even you.”

He was a few drinks in at the time, but there was clarity in his eyes for the last bit as he stared at me.

I understand why they’re so protective, I’ve heard the story many times, from different family members. Alyssa almost died. When she was six, their car was T-boned, the brunt of the force hitting where she was sitting. The rest of the family, minus their father who wasn’t with them, escaped with minor injuries. Damian was the worst of the rest with a broken collar bone, but Alyssa had internal bleeding and a cracked skull. She was in a coma for a week. When she was finally released and her parents were forced back to work, her teenage brothers took on the responsibility of her care.

Cooper and Damian, who were already her protectors, became fierce in their duty.

Cooper warned me.
Threatened
me. He’ll pummel me if he finds out how I touched her today.

To lose his friendship would be devastating. He’s been my best friend since we met at Holland Finance seven years ago. He was there for me when my father died—a heart attack. Picked me up after that when I was lost. When I got married, he stood beside me. As well as through said marriage, and helping me get divorced.

Yet, I can’t keep my hands off Alyssa. I may not have committed the act that would seal the fate of my friendship, but I want to.

What the fuck am I going to do?

Apparently I’m going to palm my cock the entire drive home.

Fuck Cooper. I’m going to fantasize about his sister and bust my ever loving blue nuts all over the place.

Two days later, I leave my last meeting of the day. It’s been another day of avoiding her—Alyssa.

Monday was such a disaster, such a huge mistake. A wonderful, sinful, skin-crawling, make-me-dying-for-more day that shouldn’t have happened and that can’t ever happen again.

When I get home, the house is empty, quiet. I bought it before I met Rachel, so she has no claim on it.

I open the fridge and stare at the half-dozen take-out containers—cooking has taken a backseat lately. I pull out one container and sniff it, then pull back in disgust, holding it out as I walk to the trash and toss it in.

Looks like cooking is going to make a comeback.

Second time’s a charm, so after a quick reheat I fall down on the couch with the remote in hand. I catch the last story on the local news before switching over for an episode of
Pawn Stars
. When that is done, as well as my leftover chicken parmesan, I head to my office with the stack of today’s mail. I rifle through, tossing the junk as I move the mouse, waking my computer up.

Between work and avoiding being alone with Alyssa, the last few days have been beyond stressful. Thankfully, there’s only one more day until the weekend, until I get a break from seeing her.

A quick check of my personal email reveals an email from my mom, going into detail about the events of the cruise she and my sister, Emmy, just returned from. I make a mental note to call them both in the next few days, then pull up Facebook to check in and make sure the world didn’t end.

My timeline is filled with happy families and kids of people I knew in high school or college, along with a few I’ve met in my professional career. My own profile hasn’t been updated in weeks…months, even. What’s there to say? I’m going through a shitty divorce and want to fuck my intern? Two things I don’t really want on social media.

I’m not on five minutes when a personal message pops up.

Alyssa – Why are you avoiding me?

I stare at the screen trying to figure out how to respond. How do I explain?

Alyssa – Dean, I’m not naïve or too young to understand, so don’t even.

Is she reading my mind now?

Dean – I can’t kiss you again.

Alyssa – Why?

Dean – Because I want more, and I won’t be able to stop again.

Heartbeats and clock ticks turn silence into a deafening ringing. A resounding thud accompanies it with each blink of the cursor, followed by the telltale symbol indicating that she’s writing.

Alyssa – Do you remember the first time we met?

Of course. That’s why I can’t.