The Dirty Series 1(88)

I remain silent, but it’s hard to keep my lips pressed together, to keep the words in my mouth. My chest is filled with rage, thinking of this man, thinking of what he must have done to frighten a tigress like Jessica.

She blows a breath out through her perfect lips and her eyes are sad. “After I finally got up the courage to leave, I swore to myself that I’d never go on a second date with a man who didn’t seem a hundred percent worthy of my time. Since then, nobody has cleared the bar. Until you.”

I can’t help smiling when I hear that.

“I don’t know how—how to say this more plainly, Alec,” she says, her voice soft, her eyes locked on mine. “I’m going out on a limb with this situation. I’m taking a big risk by being here with you. But I feel, deep down, like there’s something between us that’s going to make the gamble worth it.”

The conversation has turned heavy, turned deep, yet it doesn’t make me want to turn and run in the other direction. It makes me want to hold Jessica tightly in my arms and kiss her so hard and passionately that every terrible memory is wiped away.

Instead, I keep it simple. “I feel that, too.”

Her face breaks into a wide, dazzling smile, and she squeezes my hand. “Well, thank God,” she says with a laugh. “That would have been so unbelievably awkward if all you wanted were a few all-night sex-fests.”

It’s so incongruous—the opulent setting, her perfectly coifed hair, her flawless makeup, her sexy gown, her stunning smile—that I burst into laughter, causing heads to turn to look at us.

That’s the moment when I know: this is the start of something very, very real, pure and true.

All I have to do now is keep my father from destroying it.





Chapter Seventeen





Jessica



After dinner, Nate drives us back to the Northern Crown, and Alec takes me up to my room while the Phantom idles outside.

The moment the elevator doors close behind us, he’s on me, his fingers tracing my jawline, our lips fused, his tongue dancing with mine in my mouth, tasting me deeply.

He tears himself away without a word when the doors open onto my floor, and practically drags me by the hand all the way to my door. His impatience is mirrored in the frenetic beating of my heart, and I feel breathless with desire.

Inside my suite, he kicks the door shut behind us and lifts me up in his strong arms, making a beeline for the bedroom.

He throws me down onto the bed and, though I want to laugh, I moan instead as he tears—literally tears—my dress off my body, ripping the red material in two.

“I need you right now,” he growls, and it hits me then that teasing him in the car on the way to the restaurant must have made lingering over our meal nothing short of torture. Now it makes sense why he seemed distracted on the ride back, and his usual collected cockiness nonexistent.

“Fuck me,” I plead, and he stares longingly into my eyes, breathing deeply. Without further hesitation, he rips my lacy panties from my hips and flings them to the side of the room.

He leaves me to unfasten and remove my bra while he strips off his own clothes, and I lay back on the bed, taking in the glorious sight.

His body is unreal.

Chiseled abs that taper down his happy trail to a narrow waist, and muscled arms that can lift me effortlessly. A handsomely carved face that begs me to lick its cut lines, defined cheekbones and kissable lips that beg to be touched.

I need him, too.

More than I’ve ever needed anything or anyone.

The knowledge of this hits me in the same wave as a powerful bolt of lust shoots to my center, and my breath hitches in my throat.

Then his hands are back on me, working in tandem with his lips to drive me close to the brink.

He strokes every inch of me with the soft pads of his fingers, working his way down past my waist and right to the already-soaked folds between my legs. At his touch, I spread my thighs wide for him, the throbbing building up mercilessly in my core. He pulls back to look at me, the half-smile lighting up his face threatening to ignite the sheets on fire.

“God, you’re hot for me.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “I need you.”

“Only me.”

“Only you.”

Then he flips me in one swift motion and I know exactly what he wants. I arch my back as I steady myself on my hands and knees, pressing my pussy and ass back toward him as he stands at the foot of the bed. Without hesitation, he buries his face between my legs, devouring me with such intensity that I can barely tolerate the sensation. I cry out as my hips jerk back and forth, trying to get away from a pleasure so powerful it hurts, but Alec’s hands clamp down on my hips, holding me in place.

“Take it,” he says between long strokes of his tongue. “Take it. You have no choice. Take it.”