The Dirty Series 1(74)

Then we’re tearing at each other’s clothes, leaving a trail of shirts and jeans and shoes all the way to my bedroom. When we reach my bed and the back of her knees meets the mattress, I guide her down so she’s laying on her back on my plush comforter with the full weight of my body on top of her. I drag my tongue across her collarbone, pausing to pay homage to her breasts, then inch down toward the flat expanse of her stomach. My tongue dives into her pink, dripping slit, and I devour her as she writhes wildly against the white comforter, urgent gasps escaping from her throat as she clutches at the bedclothes, her frame trembling in violent spasms as she comes in my mouth.

While she’s still quivering, shaking, and crying out incoherently, I push myself up and straddle over her middle, lining myself up between her legs. I’m so possessed by raw lust that I can’t even think straight, so it’s a miracle that I remember to grab and roll on a condom from the bedside table before I’m thrusting into her, burying myself to the hilt in one stroke, and she’s clenching around me, her tight walls massaging my cock. Fuck, she feels good.

I drive the pace, faster, harder, and she takes it all, meeting me every time with a rise of her hips, drawing me in, drawing me deep, until at last I explode inside of her, ramming my release into her core.

The strength of my orgasm is so powerful it makes my head spin. For several minutes afterward I lay beside her, my face flush against her neck, breathing in lungfuls of her light, clean scent.

The peaceful moment ends when she rocks her hips against me, inviting me to go another round.

I rise to the occasion. With enthusiasm.





Chapter Seven





Jessica



Even a miserable Monday stuck behind my desk at the Colton-Hayes offices can’t quite kill my weekend buzz.

Alec and I didn’t stop after the first time our bodies collided in a blaze of heat and passion, or even the second time. For the first time in my life, I spent the entire night entangled with a man who couldn’t get enough of me. He worshipped every single inch of my skin and every fold between my legs. Everything he did just made me wetter, hotter; made me want him more. The sun was rising before I even entertained the notion of stopping.

At some point in the early morning, as I rode him in the semi-darkness of his bedroom, driving my weight down onto his cock with every thrust, I was overcome by a need to know more about this stranger who was lighting up every nerve in my body with electric pleasure. In that moment, my condition—no last names, no strings—seemed to border on the absurd.

“Tell me your name,” I gasped, leaning down to bite his firm chest just above the nipple.

He pulled my face up to his and kissed me hard and deep while I kept swirling my hips around him, pumping myself up and down his length. When he broke the kiss, he turned his face to whisper in my ear, “It’s Alec.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and I let out a laugh that quickly turned into a moan as he picked up the pace again.

While I make my way to the break room to refill my tea—I hate the aftertaste coffee leaves in my mouth, but damn, after an entire night of no sleep and serious physical activity, plus another two days trying to work off my insane sexual appetite with exercise, I need something—the logical side of me battles with the memory of the unbelievable connection between us.

And it is unbelievable. Alec and I are complete strangers. The fact that just thinking about him sends shivers down my spine doesn’t mean that I should abandon my one-and-done policy.

As I heat up the water in the electric kettle, I let my mind wander, thinking about his muscles, the way his arms flexed as he lifted me effortlessly, the piercing green eyes that lingered on the curves of my breasts, the lips that teased every inch of my skin over and over until I was quaking with desire…

Even so.

I hang a tea bag over the edge of the cup and frown as a memory creeps in unbidden.

Michael, screaming at me, face purple with rage, fists clenched at his sides, because I’d dared to go home to visit my parents for the weekend without telling him first. Facing his fury, my stomach had grown cold and my legs tensed, getting ready to run.

It wasn’t the only time he made me fear for my life.

When I finally ended that two-year relationship, which had swallowed my senior year of college and the year after it whole, I swore to myself that I would never allow a man to hold such power over me again. Any partnership I entered would have to be one built on equal footing.

Alec could be that man. The thought bubbles up from somewhere deep in my mind, but I push it away. I need to consider all of this very carefully.

The mug of tea is steaming, the heat a pleasant contrast to the bitter temperature of the air conditioning in the office as I slowly retrace my steps to my cubicle.