Wild Dirty Secret(40)

I couldn’t breathe, the dust or the tension filling my lungs. “I can’t.”

“You still don’t trust me.” It wasn’t a question.

My head tilted back, letting me draw in air from the surface. “Don’t take it personally. I don’t trust men.”

“I’m not men,” he said, his voice low. “I’m Luke, the man who’s been fucking torn over you since I first met you. The man who’s almost throwing away his whole career for you. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

It meant everything to me, but gratitude was a long way from trust. I was thankful for him, undeserving of him, but I couldn’t make myself go with him. I couldn’t make myself weak.

“Not enough,” I whispered.

I couldn’t forget the word almost. He was almost throwing his career away for me, and that was a hell of a lot different than actually doing it. Maybe that was too much to ask of a man—almost definitely it was—but it was the only thing that could let us be together.

A cop and a prostitute had no future.

“You know I can’t,” I whispered. “What would happen when the dust settles, would I be some hooker you keep stashed away? Would you come and visit me, bring me presents?”

He made a rough sound of denial. “Fuck, Shelly.”

I laughed without humor. “There’s nothing for us.”

There was nothing for me. I knew it was true, but I waited for him to tell me I was wrong—that we did have a chance. He was a goddamned optimist. If anyone could believe in us, he could. I waited, and hoped, and held my breath.

“I’m not asking for forever, Shelly,” he said low.

No, he was asking for the same thing every man had ever wanted. At the end of the day, in the dark and on the run, he wanted what every other man did. My body and my desire. My trust just for a short and wild ride.





Dirty





Chapter One





Luke flashed a small enigmatic smile. “I ought to drag you out of here myself.”

I tensed.

“But since you don’t trust me, you’d probably make a scene. Then we’d both be screwed.” His lips flattened. “Which is why you felt safe enough to show up here. You pretend you don’t trust me, but you come here, wriggle under my thumb, knowing I could trap you so easily.”

Apparently done waiting, Chase opened the door, blinding us both. I leaned against the wall, unembarrassed by my breathless state, and felt Luke’s hands straighten my shirt. He buttoned my jeans. I had been undressed by many men, but it was a novel experience to be dressed by one. Everything with him felt that way. I looked up. A wash of orange light fell over Luke’s face, revealing his small, knowing smile.

“What?” I asked.

“Now,” Chase murmured. “She needs to go now.”

“What is that, some kind of psychobabble? I trust you, but I don’t want to trust you?”

“You said it, not me.” A glint entered his eyes. “I’d tell you to make up your mind, but I’m starting to think it doesn’t matter. One of these days, I’m going to take you. And then I’m going to keep you.”

In a blur of black-suited coat and sandy-brown hair, he disappeared from the room as quickly as he’d come. I stared after him, a little shell-shocked. I had expected him to push me for sex. Do the right thing, Shelly. Trust me, Shelly. Be a good girl so I can fuck you without feeling like an abuser, Shelly.

But what did he mean by keeping me? Like some sort of concubine. Crazy.

I straightened my jeans and smoothed my hair. Hadn’t I worn a cap? I glanced around but didn’t find it. Dim light pooled through the open door, revealing a dusty concrete floor and rows of brown boxes. Well, this worked too. I would take a different exit from the one in front, in case anyone tried to track me through security footage later. They wouldn’t, but paranoia was the constant churn that kept me above water.

In the main inventory room, Chase glared at me. I wondered if there had been any real urgency or if he’d just wanted me to stop sucking face with his favorite detective. It didn’t matter. I’d accomplished what I came here to do.

“I know what you did in there,” he said.

“Oh really, was it the pornographic sounds we made or the fact that I’m half-dressed that gave it away?”

“I told you,” he accused. “I told you not to touch him.”

“No, you told me not to hurt him. And he doesn’t swing that way, so it really wasn’t likely.”

“Don’t act naive, like you don’t know what effect you have on men.”

“Of course I know what effect I have,” I said lightly. “It’s big and hard and hurts every time.”