Dirty Little Lies (Dirty Little #2)

by Cassie Cross

  I look down, cradling my head in my hands. “She didn’t know him, Ben. What if this guy sought her out as part of this plan? I don’t want her living the kind of life where she has to be wary of every single guy who comes up to her in a bar.”

  “It’s probably not a bad thing for her to be careful,” he says, running his hand up and down my back.

  “It’s one thing to be careful, but it’s another to have to worry that the guy is just having sex with you so that he can use pictures of it to blackmail your sister. That’s a world I don’t want her living in.”

  Ben sighs, and wraps me up in his arms. “That’s a world she’s living in now, regardless. And that isn’t your fault, Marisa. That’s your parents’ fault.”

  “But we don’t even know why this man chose me to go after you,” I protest. “Maybe it is my fault.”

  Ben shakes his head, then lets out a long sigh. “You know I’ve always been a fixture in those goddamn tabloids. We were in them all the time when we were together-”

  “And when we were breaking up,” I add, because he’s right. The two of us were fixtures in all those gossip rags back when we were dating. As the children of two high-profile families, our relationship was seen as a business merger as much as it was a romance by some people in the press.

  “And when we were breaking up. Maybe this isn’t about you or Corinne. Maybe it’s about me. God knows I don’t have a shortage of enemies in my field.”

  “Then why come to me?” I ask. That’s the thing that I can’t figure out in this mess. “We’ve only been seeing each other for less than a week, and Corinne told me she went home with that guy over a week ago. So this can’t have anything to do with you and me, since we weren’t even together when the pictures were taken.”

  “We only got back together a few days ago, but we’ve been seeing each other since before that,” he reminds me.

  “But who would even know about that?” I ask. “We were basically just fucking.”

  I can feel Ben’s physical flinch as the words come out of my mouth. I don’t like being so crass about it, but it’s not like I’m not telling the truth. It was pretty much just physical between us until very recently.

  “Unless,” I say, remembering with startling clarity a detail I had forgotten until now: that car that I had seen parked down the street from the diner Ben and I ate at the morning I decided to give our relationship another shot. The car I was certain I saw a paparazzi sitting in.

  What if it wasn’t a paparazzi at all? What if someone had been watching me all this time?

  “What?” Ben asks.

  I take a deep breath, steeling myself for his reaction, because I know it’s not going to be a good one. “The morning that we left the diner, I saw a car parked down the street. I thought maybe I saw a camera lens pointed at us, but I brushed it off.”

  Ben’s head lolls back, as he looks up at the ceiling, exasperation written all over his gorgeous face. “Jesus, Marisa. Why didn’t you say anything?!”

  I’m quick to come to my own defense. “Because I’m no stranger to having my picture taken, Ben, especially with everything going on with my parents. I didn’t really think anything of it at the time.” I’ve brushed off photographers since the news of my scandal broke. I wonder how many times that’s going to come back to bite me in the ass.

  “Marisa,” he sighs. I can tell he’s doing his best to work through his frustration, because at this point, what’s done is done. “You have to take your own safety seriously, okay? This…Christ, this isn’t a joke. This isn’t about your pride, do you understand that? You taking threats seriously, and taking your privacy seriously isn’t admitting a weakness. It’s showing that you’re strong enough to do what it takes to keep yourself safe.”

  He’s right, I know he is. I’m not even going to argue that. This insane need that I have to make sure people don’t know how much things bother me is going to get me in some serious trouble one day. This is a wake-up call, and I’ve got to take it.

  Ben turns toward me on the bed, takes my hands in his and presses kisses to my knuckles. “I know I hurt you,” he says softly. “Repeatedly. And I’m sure that has something to do with the way that you try to hide that hurt, but please don’t do that at the expense of your own safety. Please,” he says, and I can tell that this has him rattled like nothing has before.

  “I’m not going to fight you on the security detail,” I assure him. “But this isn’t about you, Ben.” I give his fingers a squeeze. “This isn’t about you or what you did in the past. I’ve always been this way, always tried to hide my hurt from people. You were actually the only one I never did that with. When you hurt me, I let you know.

  “My mother and father never looked kindly on weaknesses. When I was a kid and I skinned my knees, I never cried. When my nanny was the one who showed up to my ballet recitals, I never let my parents know how that made me feel. You,” I say, reaching up and putting my hand on his cheek. “You were the only one I ever showed my real feelings to. If you hurt me, I wasn’t afraid to show it.”

  That always baffled me about our relationship, honestly. Even though it was tumultuous for the most part, it was the most honest I’ve ever been with another person in my life.

  “And I kept hurting you anyway,” he says, his voice full of regret.

  “I didn’t say that to make you feel bad,” I tell him. “I wanted you to know that I’m not this way because of anything you did. That I hid my hurt from everyone but you for the most part. So don’t go taking on any blame that isn’t yours to take, okay?”

  I lean in and give him a reassuring kiss.

  “Okay,” he whispers against my lips. When he pulls away, he threads his fingers through mine. “I also thought you should know - I called Mia. She came over and picked up the thumb drive to see if she could find any traces that this jackass might’ve left behind on it.”

  “What, like fingerprints?” I ask stupidly.

  The corner of Ben’s mouth quirks up into a smile. “Digital fingerprints, yeah.”

  “You didn’t want the security guys to do that?”

  “She has more technical expertise. I trust her, and wanted to keep this in-house. And,” he says, shifting a little, “she has some experience with this kind of stuff.”

  I scrunch my eyebrows together. “How? She just got out of college.” Not trying to take a dig at her; I really like Mia. But from what she’s told me, working with Ben is her first job out of school, and I don’t want to take any chances with Corinne.

  Ben doesn’t seem all that bothered by my curiosity. “At some point, you two should sit down and get to know each other. You both have a protective streak a mile wide, and you would appreciate that about each other.”

  I’m still kind of confused about where he’s going with this. “She was blackmailed in order to keep nude pictures of her sister from being released world-wide?”

  I’m teasing him, but only a little. There’s a lot of curiosity in there, too.

  “No,” he says with a small huff of a laugh. “But it’s not my story to tell, or my place to tell you. She just knows what it’s like to go to some pretty extreme lengths to protect someone she cares about. She’s a lot like you that way.”

  He says that last line with so much affection that I have to lean in and kiss him again.

  “Is everyone gone?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “I think we’ve done everything we can for tonight. Hopefully tomorrow we’ll have some answers.” He reaches up and slides the pads of his thumbs along the circles beneath my eyes. “You look tired. You should get some sleep.”

  “I’ll try,” I tell him. Even though I’ve made some pretty big strides tonight, I’m still not feeling all that confident in our chances. I mean, I feel better about them than I did before, but still not all that great. Still, I don’t doubt that everything that’s happened will keep me awake.

  “You’re safe here with me. You know that, right?”

>   I nod. “Yeah, I know.”

  “And I’ll be right in the other room, okay? Just yell for me, and I’ll come running.”

  What I consider telling him is that I don’t want him in the other room. I want him here with me. I know that I drew a pretty firm line in the sand when I told him that I wanted to give this another go.

  I told him sex was off the table, so I could keep my head around him in the early stages of whatever this is between us. But tonight, I just want him to hold me in his arms, to cradle my head against his chest. I want to feel the warmth of his lips on my skin, and the weight of his body on mine.

  I want to feel a connection with him.

  “I’ll go get you an old t-shirt to sleep in,” he says, as he stands.

  I can’t help but smile, knowing that he remembers that I like to sleep in his clothes, when I sleep in anything at all around him.

  Before he can get too far, I reach out and give his hand a gentle tug. “Don’t go.”

  He turns and looks at me, eyebrow raised, a hopeful look on his face that he’s trying like hell to hide. I know that he’s trying to do everything right this go ‘round, that he’s willing to go without sex for as long as I want to wait.

  But he wants me, I can see it in his eyes. “What?”

  And I want him, too. “Don’t go,” I repeat. “Stay with me tonight.”

  That hopeful look in his eyes grows, but he gives me another out anyway. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” I reply, pulling him down to the bed. And the strange thing is that knowing he’ll leave if I want him to—no questions asked—makes me want him to stay even more.

  After he leans down and kisses me, he says, “Did you forget the rules?”

  “I don’t care about the rules anymore. And I’m pretty sure I won’t be needing an old t-shirt to sleep in.”

  There’s a low rumble in his chest, something that sounds almost like a growl. I stand up and wrap my arms around his neck so I can kiss him again, then turn his body, and press on his shoulders, letting him know that I want him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

  When Ben and I first started dating, and everything was new and wonderful, I took for granted that it would always feel that way. Now, I know that things aren’t always good, and I won’t always feel the way that I feel right now, like there’s something to be hopeful for and thankful for, and it’s all because of him.

  I want him to feel what I’m feeling, so I plant my knees on the bed, on either side of his legs, and grind myself on him, where he’s already hard for me.

  He lets out a soft moan before he presses his lips to mine, his fingertips trailing along the waistband of my pants and slipping below, his roughened thumbs brushing against my sensitive skin.

  We kiss, dirty and desperate, all teeth and tongue.

  Somehow I manage to pull myself away from him, only long enough to slip off my shirt, and then unclasp my bra. Ben looks up at me with some expression that I’ve never seen from him before, full of wonder and love and a thousand other beautiful, fleeting things.

  He’s seen me naked a thousand times, but this is the first time he’s ever looked at me like this.

  Ben slides his hand up, across my belly, and brings it to rest over my rapidly beating heart. He holds it there for a moment or two, then reaches over and cups my breast as he presses a kiss against my sternum.

  He kisses a trail along the path he makes with his hand, then circles my nipple with his tongue, pulling it between his teeth as I grip his hair between my fingers.

  My head lolls back as I get lost in sensation, his teeth, tongue, and lips working magic, and his stubble scraping across skin that grows more sensitive by the second. I’m rocking against his lap, and Ben thrusts up, moaning as he gets a little friction.

  He grips my ass and moves my body against his, his eyes fluttering shut as he works himself up. I need something a little more intimate than this; I want skin on skin in any way I can get it, so I climb off of his lap, ignoring the sounds of protest he makes.

  They disappear when I drop to my knees, and Ben catches on to what it is I’m about to do.

  I undo his belt buckle, then unbutton his pants. I cup him through the fabric just to tease him before I slowly slide his zipper down and reach into his boxer briefs to free his erection.

  I lean forward and lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, never breaking eye contact with Ben. His body goes slack as I take him in my mouth, and he props his right arm behind him to hold his weight as he threads his left hand through my hair to guide my mouth.

  I take him in as far as I can, licking and sucking the way I know he likes. He’s feeling good, relaxed and tense at the same time; I can tell by the way his eyelids flutter closed and his breathing picks up. He’s thrusting up a little into my mouth, even though I can tell he’s trying to keep what little bit of control he can.

  “Feel so good,” he manages, as I take his balls in my hand and give them a gentle tug. He lets out a long, tortured groan, and pulls me up, kissing me roughly.

  In a move that’s so quick I barely even register what happens, Ben flips me over, so I’m lying on the mattress. He’s holding himself above me, and all I want to do is turn my head and lick the straining muscles in his bicep.

  Ben’s belt buckle is grazing my stomach, giving me chills, and his eyes are dark and mischievous. He moves down my body, sliding my pants off, not even bothering with my panties. He just settles down between my legs, uses his big, rough hands to spread them wide.

  Ben moves my underwear to the side, and he doesn’t tease me. He just puts his mouth exactly where I want it. He licks and sucks, paying special attention to my clit, as his left hand finds my nipple.

  I moan, and grind down on his face a little. That simple movement must really get him going if the enthusiasm with which he continues getting me off is any indication.

  “You taste so good,” he says, his voice making me vibrate in all the right places. I shift my hips to help him get a better angle, and he gets so frustrated with the presence of my undies that he rips them clean off.

  He’s never done something like that before, and honestly, watching it happen ticked my arousal up about another ten notches. I grip his hair tightly, using it for leverage, and I buck my hips against him, chasing my impending release.

  I come in seconds, white-hot pleasure radiating out into my toes and my fingertips. Ben keeps his mouth on me, working me down, kissing the insides of my thighs, and rubbing my hips with his talented hands.

  “C’mere,” I say, crooking my finger.

  He responds immediately, pressing his body against mine as he crawls up my body for a kiss.

  When I feel the tip of his cock against me, I very nearly push down, just wanting to keep feeling this connection with him. I’m desperate for it at this point, despite the fact that I’m still feeling the ripples from my first orgasm.

  I know that’s what he wants too, because he rocks his hips against mine. He’s probably not even thinking clearly right now, his common sense completely lost in a haze of lust. I have to be the one to look out for both of us now.

  “Condom,” I say, my voice all raspy and low.

  “What?” He pulls back, almost adorably confused. It’s always been a little difficult for Ben to shake the haze of lust once he lets it take hold of him.

  “We need a condom, Ben.”

  His eyes widen, and he almost manages to hide the surprise that he had gotten so far without putting one on yet. He reaches over to his nightstand and opens the drawer. There was a time when I would’ve let him fuck me without any protection, but I’m smarter than that now

  One pregnancy scare with him was one too many.

  “Sorry,” he says as he rolls on the condom. “I got a little distracted.”

  He leans down and gives me a sweet kiss, planting his elbows on the bed for leverage as he twines our fingers together. He latches onto my neck as he slides into me. We’re both so far gone
and desperate for each other that we frantically rock into each other.

  We kiss, and I wrap my legs around Ben, needing him as close as I can get him, let him push me higher and higher, as I turn my head and breathe in the smell of him, all sweaty and soapy and perfect.

  My second orgasm isn’t as strong as my first, but it’s enough to get lost in, enough to make me feel like I’m light as air. It’s enough to pull Ben along after me, and his body stiffens as he loses his rhythm, pressing his forehead into the crook of my neck and chanting my name as he comes.

  We lie together, holding each other, for a few minutes, until Ben starts softening inside of me. We both groan when he pulls himself up to discard the condom, and I miss the warmth of his body immediately. It doesn’t take him long to clean up, and when he climbs back into bed, he wraps his body around mine.

  As usual, he’s the big spoon to my little.

  “That was amazing,” he says, nuzzling into my hair. “You’re amazing.”

  “It was amazing,” I reply, squeezing his bicep.

  “Thanks for the orgasms,” I tease.

  Ben laughs, and it’s warm against the still-drying sweat on the back of my neck. “My pleasure. Literally.”

  I can practically feel Ben’s smile. I know he sounds content.

  And despite everything that’s going on in my life and all the ways it could go wrong, I am, too.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Ben and I are both so exhausted by everything that happened the night before, we sleep in a little the following morning. It’s a work day for both of us; I have a few conference calls with potential advertisers, and Ben has two meetings that he has to be in the office for.

  I make a couple of omelettes out of what little I can find in Ben’s fridge, and the two of us eat side-by-side as we lay out our non-work plans for the day, all of which involve dealing with the Corinne crisis on our hands.

  Mia set up some kind of an algorithm that would send her an alert if the scumbag who was blackmailing me tried to sell any of Corinne’s pictures. Apparently it would let her know if he even made contact with someone and let them know that he had such a thing. The logistics of that were beyond me, even though Ben patiently explains it to me at least three times.