Dirty Rich Cinderella Story

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  I down a shot and stand up. “Careful, man,” Adam says. “You’re traveling a path that will have no return.”

  “Too late,” I say. “I’m already there.” I step outside the line of the living area, and start walking, on the hunt for Lori and I don’t stop until I’m at the top of the steps. There’s only two doors, a bedroom and a bathroom, and the bathroom door is closed with a light burning beneath it. I stand in front of it, my hands pressed on the frame on either side and I wait on Lori.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Cole

  Lori opens the door and sucks in air. “Cole.”

  I shackle her waist and walk her backward into the tiny bathroom, and behind the door to press her against the wall. My hands go to the surface on either side of her head and with good reason. If I keep touching her, I will yank her dress up and fuck her, which is not an option. Not only do I not have a condom, fucking does nothing but funnel anger that I’m still going to feel when it’s over.

  “Is that what you think of me?” I demand. “That I’m a criminal taking down good police officers who got in my way?”

  “No. God, no. And damn it,” she presses her hand to her face a moment, “I’ve had too much tequila to make my case, and it sucks.” Her hands settle on my chest. “You really matter to me, Cole. So much, so fast that it’s terrifying.”

  “I see that.”

  “You see that?” she demands. “What do you see? Don’t answer. I told you I was going to screw this up. My father seemed perfect, but he wasn’t. He gambled. He took risks. I can’t let you be perfect in my mind, even though I know you deserve to start there and earn any negative. I’m trying to fix that. I know how I have to fix that and—I need you. I wouldn’t probably say that without the tequila, but it doesn’t make it less true. I don’t want you to mistake that for me needing your money, though. It’s not your money. It’s you. It’s—I swore I wouldn’t, but I do and I’m rambling and I can’t seem to stop. Can you please say something now?”

  I cup her face “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

  “Which part? The ‘I’m sorry’ or the—”

  “You need me. Say it again.”

  “I do,” she whispers. “And you’re even more of an asshole because you made that happen. I said I wouldn’t let you. I vowed—”

  “Say the words,” I order roughly.

  “I need you. I do. I need you and—”

  My mouth closes down on hers, and my God, I have never wanted a kiss, or a woman, like I do this one. I tangle my fingers into her hair, I breathe her in, I inhale that scent of flowers, and it all comes together in a hot mix of adrenaline and lust. I cup her backside and lift her. And hell yeah, her legs wrap around my waist. I start walking but I don’t stop kissing her, maneuvering us out of the bathroom and down the hall until we’re in the bedroom. I tear my mouth from hers and kick the door shut, halfway to the bed when reality hits again.

  No fucking condom.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  I walk a path of moonlight streaming through the curtains, and lay Lori on the bed, but I don’t dare go down on top of her. I catch my weight on my hands and I intend to stay that way, to stand up before I forget our limitation, but she whispers, “Kiss me again already,” and who the fuck am I to deny her the kiss that I want as much as she does?

  My mouth closes down on hers, and some part of me decides that I’m getting her on the pill. I’m taking her to a damn doctor. I need to be able to fuck her when I want to fuck her. Hell, I need so many damn things with this woman. And when her hands slip under my shirt, her soft palms touching my skin, I damn sure need more of her hands on my body to the point that it requires a herculean effort to pull back and press my forehead to hers. “We don’t have a condom. We have to—”

  “It’s okay,” she whispers. “I’m on the pill. It’s been a few weeks or maybe longer. A month.”

  Those words hit me like a wrecking ball. I press my hands to the bed and raise up to look at her. “You’re on the pill.” It comes out as pure accusation, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

  “Yes,” she says. “I am. We’re safe.”

  “For who? Because we damn sure know it wasn’t me.”

  Her eyes turn from lust to anger in three seconds flat. “Get off me.”

  “Was it Lance?”

  “Get off me or I swear I will yell until they come and get you off of me.”

  “Go ahead. Yell. Tell me. Because I damn sure want to know who had you, when I couldn’t fuck anyone else no matter who offered themselves up to me. Not a fucking one, Lori.”

  “There was no one and you’re not just an asshole. You’re a bastard.” Her eyes start to tear up. “Get off.” The way she whispers it this time, the way her voice quakes, does the job. What the hell am I doing holding her down? What the hell is this woman doing to me?

  I push off the bed and she scrambles to her feet and turns on me. “You,” she says. “I did it for you.”

  “We hadn’t found each other again back then.”

  “Yeah well, after that night, a month passed, and I didn’t start my period.”

  Bullshit, I think. “We used a condom,” I say.

  “They fail, and I didn’t start my period.”

  I shackled her waist and walk her backward until she’s pressed to the wall. “What are you telling me?”

  “I went through the hell of thinking that I was pregnant while trying to take care of my mother.”

  “Thought or you were?”

  “No, I did not abort your baby, Cole. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Fuck, Lori, that’s not what I meant.”

  “I guess we’re just full of misunderstandings today,” she bites out. “I wasn’t pregnant. The doctor said it was stress and put me on the pill, but I thought I was pregnant. I thought I was and I didn’t know how to find you.”

  “You left. Not me. I didn’t want you to leave.”

  “I know that very well, but that’s not the point.”

  She’s right. It’s not. “The point is,” I say for her, because it’s true. “I’m an asshole.”

  “Right now. Yes. Yes, you really are.”

  I cup her face and I’m honest with her in a way I have never been honest with anyone but myself. “I’m sorry. I overreacted to this. I overreacted to Lance at the party. I don’t overreact.”

  “Maybe that makes me bad for you, like poison that—”

  “No,” I say. “That’s not it. I just don’t want to be out here on this ledge alone, feeling what I’m feeling.”

  Her hands come down on my wrist. “You’re not alone,” she says. “In fact, I’m the one holding on to you so I don’t fall over the edge while everything you do pushes me a little closer. We were both wrong tonight, but it hasn’t changed anything. I still want to be on the ledge with you.”

  I cup her face and kiss her, and just that easily I’m back to drinking her in, needing her, wanting her in this deep, cutting way that says I would bleed for this woman. I don’t tell her that I will bleed for her. I don’t tell her that I will cross lines to protect her. I wouldn’t do it for anyone else. I haven’t done it for anyone else but her. For her I would do just about anything.

  I drag her dress down and unhook her bra. I have this deep need for control right now that I force myself to contain to a reasonable level of demand. I drag my fingers over her nipples, my gaze following, and with a dip of my head, my tongue comes next. Her moan says the tongue wins for most appreciated. I use my teeth, a gentle scrape of her nipple, followed by a lave of my tongue, and her fingers slicing into my hair say my teeth drive her wild. I suckle her nipple and drag the bra straps over her shoulders, down her arms. She grabs my shirt and tries to yank it open, buttons and all. It doesn’t budge.

  We both laugh, and she blushes a pretty, sexy pink. “In my tequila-laden mind that went differently.”

  “Like the tequila made you call me an asshole downstairs?�
� I tease.

  “The tequila kept me from saying it sooner.”

  “Is that right?” I unbutton a couple of buttons and pull my shirt over my head. Before it ever hits the ground, she’s wrapped her arms around me, and pressed those gloriously naked breasts against me, skin to skin.

  That’s all it takes to ignite a frenzied rush of kissing, touching, all over each other. I manage to unzip the rest of her dress, and I turn her to the door, pressing her hands to the wall. I skim it down her hips and now I have my answer. She’s wearing black lace panties. I wind my fingers in the tiny black lace straps at her hips and pull them down.

  My arm wraps her lower body and I lift her, scoop away her dress and panties, and when I set her down, I stand, giving her a gentle but definitely present smack on the backside. She yelps and I pull her against me, her back to my chest, my hands cupping her breasts, lips near her ear. “That’s for making me suffer downstairs, wondering if you were sitting next to Savage wearing no fucking panties.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” she whispers, inside a half moan, as I tug roughly on her nipples.

  “But you wanted me to wonder, didn’t you?”

  “I wanted you to do something other than sit there and scowl at me.”

  I turn around and press her against the wall. “You want me to do more?” I challenge.

  “Yes, Cole. More.”

  “Don’t even think about coming without me or I will spank you right here, with them down there. I should spank you for teasing me with your panties.”

  I lower myself to my knees with one goal in mind: Making her come.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Cole

  Still on my knees in front of Lori, I press my lips to her belly. She gives a choked laugh. “I can already tell you that I’m going to come, but, Cole?”

  There is something in her voice and I look up at her. “Yes?”

  “Don’t spank me here. Not here. It doesn’t feel private.”

  I kiss her belly again. “Not here,” I agree, more than satisfied with the fact that she hasn’t told me no. Just not here. I lick her clit and stand up, my fingers pressing against the wet heat of her sex. “Come on my fingers,” I say, my lips next to her lips. “Then on my cock.” I kiss her, and slip two fingers inside her. She’s wet, and hot, and she pants into my mouth in that sexy, sweet, way she does. The more I lick into her mouth, the more I stroke her, and the more she arches into me. Her prediction is right, and it’s all of about sixty seconds before she stiffens and her orgasm quakes my fingers and her body. It’s abrupt and over far too quickly.

  “Can you be undressed now, please?” she whispers.

  “Since you said please,” I say, reaching for my pants, and between the two of us she has her wish and quickly.

  I’m naked, hard as a fucking rock, and pressing inside her, lifting her as I did in the hallway of my apartment, but this time we won’t be standing. I walk us to the bed, and I go down on my back. I want her on top. I want her to ride me. I want her to show me how much she wants me. And she does. Lori sits on top of me, and starts to move, slow at first, and then faster, her spectacular breasts swaying with every thrust.

  “Show me how you want me to touch you,” I order, knowing Lori is reserved, but wanting her to let me see that other part of her I know exists. The part that let me spank her. Wanting her to trust me that much again.

  I expect her to be shy, to need urging, she’s doesn’t. Her hands glide over her body, her breasts, fingers trailing her nipples. I pump into her, and her head tilts back, pleasure sliding over her face, and it’s official—this woman rocks my world. I roll her to her side facing me, kissing her, molding her closer. Now that’s what I want. Her closer. Her next to me. Her everywhere and every way I can feel her.

  My hand on her breast. My mouth on her nipples. My cock driving into her until she cries out so damn loudly it might just echo downstairs. I kiss her, swallowing the sound, and fight the tight knot in my groin that refuses to let go. I shudder into release, spilling myself inside her, and when we finally melt into each other and the bed, I don’t let go of her. I hold her tighter. I’m not letting her go. If I do, she’ll run. I still feel that.

  “I need a towel,” she whispers, and I reluctantly ease back to kiss her temple.

  “I’ll grab you one.”

  I pull out of her and walk to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and tossing it toward the bed for the ease of speed. “Thank you,” she says, grabbing it and then scooting off the bed.

  “Bathroom,” she says, still completely naked as she races past me.

  She enters the bathroom and shuts the door. I really hate that shut door. I pull on my pants, and decide, screw giving her space to run. I snatch up my shirt before walking to the bathroom door. It opens right after I arrive. She stops abruptly and stares up at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Not a damn thing.” I slip my shirt around her, and pull her close. “You’re mine now.”

  “And what does that make you?”

  “Yours,” I say, without the hesitation I should feel. I feel none. “That means we’re taking on this thing called life together. That’s means you have to actually live it with me. You have to let me in.”

  “I am. I will, but for the next nine months, I’m still your employee, and you have to understand our limits.”

  “Work I get, but outside of work, I’m not going to be as understanding as you want me to be.”

  “I kind of figured that out and I’m still here, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just say yes to everything.”

  “I’ll push.”

  “I know that, Cole,” she says. “Very well.”

  “Then you’re okay with it?”

  “You just let me tell you not to spank me here, and didn’t even blink. I believe you’ll listen when I need you to listen.”

  “I have fantasies about spanking you again,” I say.

  Her teeth scrape her bottom lip. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, sweetheart, but the wait only makes it better.” I kiss her. “Let’s go back to the bed.”

  “Do we need to go back downstairs?”

  “There is not a chance in fiery hell that we’re voluntarily leaving a bedroom with you in my shirt to go check on Adam and Savage,” I say. “If they need us, they’ll shout.” I lead her back to the bed and pull her down with me. “We’re staying here tonight.” I pull her to me, catching her leg with mine. “We’re sleeping here.”

  “What about being watched?”

  “We’re in an all-night work session with Walker Security. We’re covered. Now. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

  “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Birth,” I say, because I want to know everything there is to know about this woman.

  She starts telling me her story, and we laugh and talk for hours. It’s a long time later when she falls asleep on my chest, and I lay awake thinking about everything that happened tonight. This woman belongs with me. I’m in love with her. I’d say it happened fast, only it took my entire life.

  ***

  Lori’s second night with me does not end the same as the first did, and I made sure of it. The minute she fell asleep, I wrapped myself around her and ensured she wasn’t getting away. I wake up to her soft, sweet curves pressed to mine, and I know this is how I want to wake up over and over and over again. I lay there for a good thirty minutes just holding her and do so despite the fact that I want to get back to New York where the company needs me, and where reality, and normalcy, will allow me to root Lori in more than a hotel adventure.

  I know the moment Lori is awake for no reason other than I just know. “You’re awake,” I murmur, nuzzling her neck, aware that she no longer smells like flowers, but rather like me, which I’ll take over those sweet flowers any day of any week.

  “I’m awake,” she confirms, rotating to look at me, her hand settling on my jaw, fingers raspy over my stubble; her hair wild and sexy, her mascara smu
dged under her eyes. “And this,” she says. “is me in makeup that I have worn for twenty-four hours, and through too much tequila, and a lot of rolling around in this bed with you.”

  “The only thing better,” I say, kissing her hand, “would be you in my bed which is why we need to get up and get moving. I want to fly out today and I never arranged us a flight.” I shift us, kiss her temple, and throw away the blankets to stand up. Since I’m in my pants and she’s in my shirt, I hunt down my shoes and socks.

  “Should we stay until tomorrow?” Lori asks scooting off the bed, my oversized shirt draping her body. “It’s Monday. What if there is a Monday morning problem with Waller while we’re in the air? We know he’s up to no good.”

  “Tara’s in good hands,” I say, sitting down to pull on my shoes and socks while Lori steps into the skirt of her dress. “We’re leaving.” I stand up and walk to stand in front of her. “I’m going to need my shirt, sweetheart.”

  She peels it away and hands it to me. My gaze lowers, raking over her naked breasts and watching her pretty pink nipples pucker under my inspection. I toss the shirt, and bring her to me, her naked breasts pressed against my chest. “The flight can wait,” I say but when I lean in to kiss her, her hand goes to my mouth.

  “I need to brush my teeth. No kissing.”

  I laugh but concede, sliding my hand down her hip, and between her legs. “Even here?”

  Her eyes glint with challenge, her hand pressing to the thick line of my erection. “How about here?”

  My cock twitches against her palm and her lips curve. “That’s a yes,” she says, lowering herself to her knees, shoving aside my open zipper, tugging down my underwear just enough to kiss the tip of my erection. I suck in a breath, and a moment later, she’s got my cock in her hand, giving it a lick while casting me a coy, sexy look.

  “You can come,” she says. “I think I owe you that.” With that announcement, she draws me in her mouth, sucking me deep and just like that I don’t own her. She owns me.

  ***

  Lori

  Once Cole and I finally manage to get dressed, we exit the bedroom, and walk down the stairs to find Savage and Adam, sitting on the couches where we left them, both in the same clothes they had on when we went upstairs. “Have you two not slept?” I ask incredulously.