Dirty Little Secret

by Kendall Ryan

  “It looks like you’ve gotten a good amount of work done on your grandmother’s place,” I said.

  She beamed. “Did you notice? It’s been incredible. All the moldings are fixed, and I found an old rocker just like she used to have by the bay window. It’s really coming along.”

  “Who did you hire?” I asked, taking a sip of red wine.

  She blinked. “Hire?”

  “To do the work for you?”

  “Nobody.” She took a bite of her fig and cheese. “I watched some very informative YouTube videos, though.”

  “You did all that yourself?”

  Emma nodded, and I found myself yet again amazed by her.

  “Impressive.”

  “I like to think so.” She grinned. “I may have to get a contractor for my kitchen counters soon, though.”

  “Or you could entrust things to a team of brothers you know,” I offered. “We’re pretty handy.”

  She grimaced. “I don’t know about all that. You and Cooper together, in my house . . . all that testosterone and masculine energy. I’m not sure I could handle that.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Emma

  As I watched Gavin take another sip of chilled pinot grigio, a sense of euphoria washed over me. I had no idea he had it in him to plan something so extravagant.

  And against all odds, I was falling for this man, for his dominant personality, sexy attitude, and even sexier physique. He was a high-maintenance man, unlike anyone I’d ever been around before. At times, he was such a hard-ass, so demanding and intense. Other times, it was like he was my own personal Prince Charming, taking me away on a helicopter, making sure I’d eaten, and telling me I was beautiful. It was all so dizzying.

  This certainly felt like more than we’d agreed to. I was supposed to accompany him to business dinners and charity events, not be whisked away for romantic afternoons at his favorite vineyard.

  “Forgive me. I wasn’t thinking,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You don’t really drink and I’ve brought you to a vineyard. It’s not my smoothest moment.”

  Smiling, I leaned close and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “Are you kidding? I love it here.”

  And I loved this side of Gavin even more. He was being so real and vulnerable, sharing a piece of himself with me.

  Despite my heart’s warning, despite the alarm bells ringing in my head, I was developing real feelings for this man. Briefly, I wondered if I should end this—demand that he and his brother release me from this strange arrangement, and go off on my own to collect myself before I made a horrendous mistake. But the other half of me knew it was already too late. I was Gavin’s, like it or not.

  Yet there was something I needed to get off my chest, something that had been weighing on my mind all morning. Turning toward Gavin, I gathered my thoughts.

  “What is it?” he asked, ever intuitive as he stroked his thumb over the line creasing my forehead.

  “I’ve given it some thought, and I don’t feel right about this arrangement anymore.”

  This time, Gavin’s brows drew together. “You don’t enjoy your time with me?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not that. I just . . . this feels more like a date, not work. I would be here with you just because you asked, even if it weren’t for the money, and I don’t feel right keeping it.”

  His posture relaxed. “Fine. And for the record, this is a date, Emma.”

  “Oh.” Now I felt stupid for not knowing the difference. Of course this was a date. He’d arranged for a private helicopter ride and wine tasting. But I was glad he knew where I stood.

  Gavin leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “And what about Cooper?” he asked, moving a lock of hair behind my shoulder.

  “What about him?”

  Gavin shrugged. “Just trying to understand where this all stands.”

  Taking a deep breath, I shifted closer to Gavin, enjoying this softer side of him. Did this mean he wanted me all to himself? “Cooper and I are friends. You and I are . . . more, I hope.”

  “More.” The word rolled off his tongue so quickly, I couldn’t tell if he meant it as a question or as a statement.

  “I think my days as an escort are behind me,” I said.

  “Fair enough. But if I should need a date for an event?” he asked, his tone playful.

  “Then I guess you’ll have to ask me and see.” Our conversation had me feeling mischievous, like I’d won some power back in this exchange.

  “So, you and Cooper never . . .”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Even when he lured you to his place and got you naked in his tub?” Gavin raised one dark brow at me.

  Cooper had hardly lured me. I’d been so confused back then, so desperate for attention as I ping-ponged between these two men. The truth was I’d drank too much and had made a fool of myself.

  Stalling, I took a sip of my wine. “He washed my hair. That was all.”

  Gavin seemed pleased by my response, drawing my chin up and bringing his mouth to mine. “My fingers are the only ones that have been inside you?”

  I nodded.

  “That makes me very happy, Emma.”

  Gavin set his wineglass on the little cocktail table that separated us, and did the same with mine. Leaning close, he brought his mouth to my neck.

  “What about the staff? Won’t Cecily be back to check on us?” I asked.

  “Hmm. Don’t care,” he murmured against my throat. “Want you.”

  He peppered my neck in soft kisses while his large palms roamed over my bare legs. While we kissed, he drew me up so we were both standing. I brought my arms around him, my breasts aching at the contact of his firm chest.

  Finally, his mouth captured mine in an urgent kiss. It was electric. Raw. Molten. His tongue moved expertly against mine, sending my blood spiraling through my veins.

  Sliding his hand along the hem of my shorts, Gavin’s deft fingers made contact with my panties, sending a spark of electricity skittering through my veins. “Hang on tight. This is going to be fast.”

  I didn’t know what he meant at first until he breached my underwear and pushed two fingers inside me, making my breath catch.

  “Gavin . . .” I whimpered, holding on for dear life.

  He kissed me again, seemingly oblivious to my intense pleasure. Even his fingers were big—I couldn’t imagine what the rest of him might be like.

  As he sent me racing toward climax within minutes, I clutched Gavin’s shoulders for support, rocking my hips into his hand and kissing him like my very life depended on it. Working myself against him, I felt the huge ridge in his pants pressing insistently into my hip, the only thing that signaled his excitement.

  I came undone quickly and without warning.

  “Gavin!” I cried out, my body quaking around his fingers.

  “That’s it. So beautiful.” He pulled back a fraction to watch me.

  Rather than feel self-conscious like the old me would have done, I reveled in his attention, dropping my head back and squeezing my eyes closed as the most intense orgasm I’d ever had washed over me.

  When it was through, Gavin withdrew his hand and licked his fingers clean, and my vaginal muscles clenched again at the lust-filled look in his eyes.

  “So perfect,” he murmured.

  Before I had time to wonder if he was going to let me touch him this time, Gavin growled, “Take out my cock.”

  Pulling back an inch so I could see his eyes, I felt confusion washed over me. “What do you want?”

  “What do you want, Emma?”

  My gaze wandered toward the wall of windows that were only feet away, and though Gavin seemed to have no issues with public displays as I recalled from the limo, I also knew somehow that he’d want our first time to be more private.

  “Well, I don’t think you’re going to fuck me . . .”

  �

�You’re correct about that.”

  My hand gripped his firm erection. It felt huge and insistent. “Then I’d like to please you with my mouth.” The words surprised me. It seemed Gavin was turning me into a sexual creature with each passing day we spent together.

  “That would make me very happy.”

  I slid to the floor in front of him, balancing on my knees, ignoring the way the wooden floor bit into my skin. Lowering the zipper to his pants, I found him already hard and nearly bursting through the fabric of his black boxer briefs. I ran my palm against him, appreciating his size.

  Gavin looked down, smirking at me. “You don’t have to be so delicate with me.”

  Okay, then. When I tugged his pants and boxers down his hips, his cock sprang free and bobbed enticingly in front of me.

  He was massive—a thick shaft and a wide tip, and well-groomed to complete the most perfect package I had ever seen.

  Testing him, I bought my mouth forward and swirled my tongue across the blunt tip of him.

  A small grunt of approval in the back of his throat urged me deeper.

  Gripping the last several inches I couldn’t fit into my mouth, I stroked him firmly.

  “Take all of it.”

  Pulling back, I met his eyes. “I can’t, sir.”

  “I know that. But watching you try is precious, pet.” He stroked my hair, taking himself in hand and bringing his wide tip to my lips.

  I opened, obeying his command, and Gavin slid several inches deeper. Breathing through my nose, I battled with myself to accept him.

  Finally, he slid deeper, rewarding me with a soft groan. “Fuck.”

  I pushed forward, urged on by his cries of pleasure, and for several minutes, I pleasured him with my mouth, loving the masculine sounds he made, until finally, a hot jet of semen streamed down my throat.

  “Jesus, pet.” He raked his fingers through my hair, looking down at me with adoration.

  Pulling me to my feet, Gavin continued caressing me while my heart pounded heavily in my chest.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Gavin

  Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to Emma’s forehead. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Not too chilly?”

  Pulling her into my lap once again, I ran my hands along her bare arms, wondering if her chill bumps were the result of the air-conditioning or something else. Did she feel this connection buzzing between us as strongly as I did?

  “I’m good.”

  When I lifted Emma’s chin so she would meet my eyes, her hazy gaze almost undid me. Glassy-eyed and flushed, her lips swollen and pink from pleasuring me, she was perfect. Watching her swallow me down was more erotic than anything, ever. And I’d done some kinky shit.

  In that moment, I was hit with a flurry of emotions. Elation? Yes. Pleasure? Hell yeah. But it was more than that. I was totally and utterly losing it, and our erotic encounter had me questioning if I was falling apart, or finally coming together.

  “I like you like this,” I murmured, petting her cheek with my thumb.

  “Like what?”

  Several words flashed through my mind at once. Docile. Soft. Mine. “Submissive,” I settled on.

  Emma pursed her lips as though tasting the word. “I didn’t know I was.”

  “With me you are.”

  She couldn’t argue.

  Inhaling a deep breath against the rush of sudden and unexpected emotion, I took her hand. The way she placed her hand in mine was so natural, so effortless. And her small palm fit perfectly inside my much larger hand.

  “Should we go?”

  “Home?” The hint of disappointment in her voice was unmistakable.

  “No. I have somewhere else in mind.” I was changing my plans for her. This might take me down a dangerous path, but fuck it. I was too far in to walk away now. “Are you hungry?”

  For more than cock this time, my naughty brain supplied. I brushed my thumb against her full lower lip again, unable to stop myself.

  Her expression was guarded, but happy. “I could eat.”

  Whisking her away today had been impulsive, the need to see her welling up inside me until it couldn’t be refused any longer, as was my suggestion we continue our date with dinner. Apparently, Emma brought out a spontaneous side to me I didn’t know I had.

  “Let’s get out of here.” I ushered her into the cart and drove her toward the grassy hill on the vineyard where the chopper would be waiting to take us wherever I asked. I was thinking about the casual neighborhood pizzeria I hadn’t been to in forever. “Do you like pizza?”

  Her answering smile told me everything I needed to know.

  • • •

  “Alyssa?” I gritted my teeth, forcing down the string of curse words I wanted to let rip. “A moment of your time, please?”

  “Right away, Mr. Kingsley.”

  I’d asked her to call me Gavin about four thousand times over the past year and a half, but that never seemed to faze her. Not that I was going to complain; I appreciated the formality. Growing up the way I had, I wasn’t going to criticize a show of respect.

  Strolling in a second later, Alyssa stopped in front of my desk. “What did you need?”

  I took a deep breath and composed myself. “These summary reports are all messed up.”

  She frowned. “I double-checked them. Everything should be spot-on. You’re probably just not used to the new format.”

  “New format?” I felt my temples starting to throb.

  Alyssa nodded, taking a step toward my desk. “Yes. It was Cooper’s suggestion. Let me show you. It takes some getting used to.”

  Fucking Cooper. How many times had I uttered that phrase over the past two weeks? Good fucking question.

  While Alyssa gave me a quick tutorial on the various tabs of the spreadsheet, my mind wandered back to my day at the vineyard with Emma last weekend.

  Reflecting on the way I’d pushed her to her limits, I felt my heart kick up a notch. She’d given in so easily, riding my hand and murmuring soft, pleasure-filled whimpers as she got closer, and then coming apart so beautifully, despite the risk of us being discovered by the ever-attentive staff.

  And then when she wanted to pleasure me? I didn’t have the stomach to turn her away again. I’d let her drop to her knees on the dusty pine floor and take me. Watching her force my wide length into her mouth and cradle me in her delicate hands? Fuck. I almost got hard just remembering it.

  Even better yet was her refusal to take part in the game Cooper and I had lured her into. Her strength continued to arouse me.

  “That will be all, Alyssa,” I barked, realizing my assistant was still standing there.

  Stifling an eye roll, Alyssa turned and strolled from my office. She closed the door behind her, clearly annoyed.

  But I wasn’t worried about my assistant. My mind was already spinning on when I could see Emma again. My gaze drifted toward the wall of windows where little pings of rain were hitting the glass. I needed to plan another date, something different this time. Something more intimate.

  It was time to make my move, time to say to hell with all my brothers’ ominous warnings and take what was mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Gavin

  Friday evening, I picked up Emma from her neat little brownstone.

  “No driver tonight,” she murmured, climbing in beside me.

  I reached out toward her, gripping her hand in mine. “I wanted you all alone. I’m selfish like that.”

  The smile she treated me to was warm and dazzling. “Are we on our way to the restaurant?” she asked at the rapidly changing scenery. We’d entered a seedier part of town, someplace I doubted she’d ever seen. For her sake, I hoped she’d never been here.

  I shook my head and turned down the side street that led to my destination. I still remembered this area like the back of my hand, though it had been many years since I’d visited.

  “Not just yet. There’s something I want to show you first.”

  Lately, for no reason at all, my mind would wander to memories of my childhood, to my mother. I remembered her traipsing around the apartment in the evenings, long after I should have been asleep. She’d turn on her ancient record player, listening to John Coltrane or Miles Davis. The music was so bluesy and sad, but with a hidden depth. It fit my mother perfectly. Beautiful and tragic, all at the same time.

  I recalled the way she’d lean over the side of the lumpy twin mattress I shared with Cooper and press a soft kiss to my forehead. She wore a white satin robe, tied loosely at the waist. I remembered catching a glimpse of the white satin panties she wore, and the peek of a cherry-tipped breast, and while I was still too young to understand, I knew enough to know I shouldn’t look but wanted to all the same. It was simple curiosity. I knew the parts my brothers and I had, basic utilitarian things used for pissing and nothing else. I knew enough to know my mother was different, saw the way men would stop and stare at her, and shout lewd things to her on the street. She must have had something special under that robe, but what, I didn’t know.

  We repeated the same scenario night after night. After dinner, she’d drink a glass of something so strong, the scent of it on her breath made my eyes sting when she kissed my head. She’d dress in a white jean miniskirt or a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a halter top, then fix her makeup and hair. Then she’d tell Quinn to lock the door and not answer it for anyone.

  I remembered the hot tears that stung my eyes when I begged her to stay, which I inevitably did night after night. She’d ruffle my hair and chuckle at me, not even giving me a backward glance as she lifted the arm on her record player, silencing it before strolling out the apartment door.

  I didn’t understand what she did for a living, and had fought with the boys at school who told me my mom spread her legs for money. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that Quinn confirmed the truth and I’d finally accepted it. I didn’t talk to my mother for a week after that, until she’d finally snapped at me and told me to grow up. So, I had. And a few years later, she was gone.

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