Pretty Dirty (Dirty Bad Things Book 2)(12)

I stay inside of her. In fact, I never fucking want to not be inside of her.

“I was actually going to be a gentleman and offer to sleep on the couch tonight.”

She giggles, pulling me close and snuggling into my chest.

“You? A gentleman?”

“I have my moments.”

She grins, kissing my chest.

“You said were.”

“Oh, fuck the couch,” I growl, pulling her close. “Offer rescinded. Tonight I’m sleeping in this bed, with you, and I’m never fucking leaving it.”





8





Zoe




This is heaven.

Or at least, whatever this bed is made out of sure as hell feels like heaven. My eyes open, and I’m aware of the dim light coming in around the edges of the blinds, but I don’t want to face that it’s morning. Because morning means last night is over, and really, I never want last night to be over.

I roll over, but when my hands go to find him, they come up empty. I groan, making a face as I finally open my eyes and realize I’m alone. I don’t want to be alone in his bed. God, after last night, I never want to be alone in this bed without him. I groan, stretching luxuriously and grinning into the pillow.

Yeah, last night was incredible.

I lounge another few minutes, hating the thought of leaving this bed even as much as I hate him not being in it. Eventually though, the need for caffeine is the bigger motivator, and I roll out of bed. I’m still nude. I should probably wear some clothes at some point in my interactions with Gray, right?

I grin as I spot the oversized t-shirt he gave me last night, which I never ended up wearing. I snatch it off the floor where it landed and tug it over my bed-head before I open his bedroom door and pad down the hall towards the kitchen. I hear his voice before I see him, and when I step in, I can see that he’s on the phone. He’s just in a pair of loose pajama pants that hug his hips so freaking deliciously, shirtless as he looks out the huge wall of windows with his back to me.

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

The call sounds like business, and the stiffness in his shoulders seems to say the same. I’m quiet, waiting for him to finish. I’m not eavesdropping, but, I mean, I’m here.

“Yes. I can be there this afternoon for the papers. Absolutely.”

I start to make my way to the coffee machine on his kitchen counter.

“See you soon, Mr. Moretti.”

I freeze, a coldness creeping through me. Gray turns and startles, his muscles tensing as he notices me.

“Fuck, you scared me.”

“You…” My face feels white, my head spinning.

Gray’s brow furrows.

“What did you hear, Zoe?”

“Enough,” I whisper hoarsely. “I heard enough.”

I turn, and I run for the bedroom.

“Hang on!”

I can hear his bare feet striking the floor behind me, and his hand grabs me before I can even make it through the living room.

“Zoe, hang on,” he growls, spinning me back into him.

“You work for them!” I shake my head, my face aghast. “You— oh my God. So you know—”

“Joey?” His face darkens, and his jaw tenses dangerously. “Yeah, I do,” he growls.

My heart sinks.

“Was this some fucked up game to you?”

“No,” he growls.

“Well it sure fucking feels like it.”

He shakes his head, his eyes burning into me. “I didn’t ask for this, Zoe.”

I bark out a laugh. “Oh, and did ‘this’ pay for all of this?” I point a finger wildly around his luxury condo. He’s quiet, and I laugh bitterly.

“Yeah tough choices there, Gray. You going to tell me you’re as much a prisoner as I am?”

“No,” he growls. “No, I’m not. I work for bad people, Zoe. I work for bad fucking people, and they pay me well for that damnation.”

“Well good for you,” I spit.

“This does not change anything with you and me,” he growls, pulling me towards him.

“And what is ‘you and me,’ huh?” I sneer. “What exactly am I to—”

“Everything,” he growls, yanking me into him, and before I know it, he’s kissing me hard.

Passionately.

So fiercely that I fall completely into the kiss, losing myself in it and in him before we slowly come apart.

“Where’d that come from?” I whisper breathlessly.

“Two weeks,” he growls. “Two weeks of only being able to look at you, but not touch you — and not feel you, and not kiss those fucking lips. Two weeks it built up.”

The smile creeps over my face, and I try and scowl at him again, but I realize I can’t.

“I should have told you,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want to frighten you. Look, I really didn’t choose this. You know the joke about ‘an offer you can’t refuse’?” His face goes grim when I nod.

“Trust me, it’s less a joke when you get one of those offers.”

I bite my lip, looking up at him and seeing the shadows war across his face.

“Well, I don’t frighten easy.”