It's not like that's the only reason why I relent.
Not at all.
God, this really is amazing.
I fall back onto Brendon's four poster bed.
I sink into the smooth sheets.
They smell like him. Like his earthy soap and like something distinctly Brendon.
God, they smell good.
I let my eyelids flutter closed and let my head fill with dirty thoughts.
Him next to me.
Pulling my t-shirt over my head.
Unhooking my bra.
Sliding it off my shoulders.
Dragging his fingertips up my torso, between my breasts, around my nipples.
Pressing his lips to mine.
He thinks I'm sweet. Innocent.
Everyone does.
And I am.
I'm a virgin, sure. But I'm not naïve.
I know what I want.
It's him.
A knock on the door pulls me back to the moment.
"I'm heading to work. You gonna be okay alone?" Brendon asks from the hallway.
He explained it at lunch—he and Emma have a strict knock, enter only if invited policy.
"Yeah. I have to get started on my summer reading."
"Call me if you need anything."
"I'll be fine."
"Promise."
"Brendon—"
"If you'll be fine, it will be an easy promise to keep."
It's a compelling argument. Even if I have no intentions of calling him. No matter what I need. "Okay. I promise."
"See you tonight."
"You too."
His footsteps move down the hallway. Then the stairs.
I can just barely hear the front door shut.
Emma is at work—she works at a department store at the promenade.
I'm alone here.
I've never been alone here before.
It's the perfect chance to work out some of this tension.
But not yet.
It sounds stupid, but I can't touch myself in the middle of the afternoon. That's so... intentional.
I only ever masturbate before bed. So it's for insomnia relief as much as anything else.
Still, I should take advantage of being alone in Brendon's room somehow.
Reading isn't quite as exciting or naughty as masturbating to thoughts of my new roommate slash guardian, but hey—
I do have dirty books on here.
I'm capable of fun. Of sexy. Of bad.
Just, I'm going to do it by myself in my pajamas.
I toss my sleep shorts on the bed.
Set my Kindle on the dresser.
Right next to the faded black sketchbook.
Wait.
That's Brendon's sketchbook.
It's right there.
I've never seen it by itself.
In his hands? Yeah.
On his lap? Absolutely.
Nestled under his arm? Of course.
It never leaves his sight.
And he snaps it fast whenever I get close.
This is it.
All the secrets to what's in that beautiful head of his.
His secrets.
None of my business.
I pick it up. Run my fingers over the worn leather cover. Undo the snap holding the pages together.
This is his.
It's private.
Yes, I want to know why his smiles are so rare.
I want to know what it is he's thinking about when he's sitting on the deck alone.
When he's alone, period.
God, I want in his head so badly I'm shaking.
This is wrong. What if it was your journal?
I force myself to set the book down.
To plant on the bed.
To cross my legs. Fold my hands. Keep my gaze on the floor.
I shouldn't look.
But this is the only chance I'm going to get.
If I don't look, I'll never get inside his head.
I'll never know what he's thinking.
I'll never know if he's thinking about me.
I place the book in my lap and pry it open. The first few pages are familiar tattoo mockups—Brendon always shows off his finished work. Or maybe I check the shop's Facebook religiously. Either way.
Then there are figure drawings. More tattoo mockups. A fierce dragon defending a castle. A giant octopus destroying a sea monster. A topless mermaid sunning on a rock.
A librarian pin up.
Only...
No.
She looks like me. Same champagne blond hair. Same green eyes. Same pretty pink cardigan. Same thick blue glasses. These aren't exactly standard frames.
And she's wearing a Mockingjay pin.
Exactly like the one attached to my backpack.
That's nothing. Lots of people like The Hunger Games. Even Brendon.
There's no way he's looking at me like this.
My heartbeat picks up.
My breath flees my body at an alarming rate.
I shouldn't turn the page, but I can't stop myself.
It's that same pin up, only her cardigan is unbuttoned. Her breasts are exposed.
In the next picture, she's lying on her back, her arms over her head, her cardigan binding her wrists.
The next.
That's me. Splayed out over this bed. Naked. Bound to the railing.
I turn the page.
Fuck.
I suck a deep breath between my teeth.
I press my thighs together.
I'm on my knees, resting on my heels, looking up.
Naked.
Waiting.
Hungry.
He wants me.
Brendon wants me.
Get Tempting Now
Acknowledgements
My first thanks must always go to my husband, who not only tolerates but loves all my weird quirks (even my rants about grammar). Kevin, I couldn’t do it without you. And the second goes to my father for always encouraging me to follow my dreams and especially for taking me to the book store when I was supposed to me grounded.
My cover designer, Melissa Gill—you are amazing and I thank you for your patience with my endless revision requests. May we make many more beautiful covers together! To my editor, Dee, thank you so much for the quick turn around with this manuscript. It looks amazing. My beta readers—there are too many to name--thank you for helping me make this book the best book it could be.
And my biggest thanks goes to all the readers for taking a chance on a new book.
Also by Crystal Kaswell
Dirty Rich
Dirty Deal - Blake
Dirty Boss - Nick, coming soon
Dangerous Noise
Dangerous Kiss - Ethan
Dangerous Crush – Kit
Dangerous Rock – Joel
Dangerous Fling – Mal
Dangerous Encore - series sequel
Sinful Serenade
Sing Your Heart Out - Miles
Strum Your Heart Out - Drew
Rock Your Heart Out - Tom
Play Your Heart Out - Pete
Sinful Ever After – series sequel
Inked Hearts
Tempting - Brendon
Playing - Walker, coming soon
*more coming in 2018*
Sign up for the Crystal Kaswell mailing list
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
DIRTY DEAL
First edition. October 19, 2017
Copyright © 2017 Crystal Kaswell.
Written by Crystal Kaswell.
Cover by Melissa Gill
Photo by Lindee Robinson
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Dirty Deal Page 36