Pretty Dirty (Dirty Bad Things Book 2)(48)

We’d never said it out loud, even to each other. But I knew we’d both been feeling it, and what’s more, we both knew the other was feeling it. I remembered a few weeks before, when we’d gone out to hit the bars together — something Blake still did, even sober. It was sort of his whole “face your demons head on and tell them to get fucked” approach to sobriety. We’d just come off a thirty-six-hour shift of watching Sam, and it may have been the first day when two things clicked for both of us.

One, that she was becoming more than an obsession — more than just a hot girl we got to watch. In fact, she was becoming WAY more than that.

The second thing that clicked for us that night was that she was and never ever possibly could be ours. Not ever, and that stung.

We’d gone out cruising that night, our blood pumping hot from Samantha, our desires focused on one fucking thing. We’d chatted plenty of girls up that night — I mean, without being vain, two guys who looked like us didn’t exactly have a hard time chatting women up in bars. We were also pretty quick to make our, I guess you could say “team intentions” pretty clear to the girls we got talking to. Some looked scandalized, of course, but the ones whose interest got piqued?

Oh, they stayed.

Blake and I had shared plenty of women over the years — actually, it sort of became our thing, I guess. We’d even tried dating the same girls, usually to disastrous results — usually from the girl freaking out or not being able to handle it. That night though, we’d gone out hungry for something immediate and temporary.

Except we had a problem: none of the girls we’d chatted up, or grinned charming smiles at, or whose hands trailed up our arms, or whose knowing bedroom eyes batted at us were her.

None of them were Samantha.

We’d even found one that sort of looked like her — similar hair, and similar body, but it just wasn’t there. She’d flat out asked us to come out to her car with her, telling us she “couldn’t wait” to know what it felt like to have two guys filling her up “everywhere.”

We’d smiled, bought her one more drink, and walked away.

That’s what Samantha Caraway did to us.

And now here she was, looking at us with those fierce, hungry eyes, like I’d actually dreamed about.

We’d both dreamed about seeing that look in her eyes directed at us, and right then, I could feel both of our willpowers shattering.

“Wait here,” I growled at her, before snagging Blake’s arm and yanking him away with me.

“You’re slipping,” I hissed at him, our backs to Samantha. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“Oh, fuck you, you’re slipping too,” he shot back, his biceps flexing as he swallowed down the heat from his face.

“You know what she was doing when we—”

“Yeah, I know, man.”

We glanced at each other.

“What’s the move here,” I growled.

“The move is to get the fuck out of here,” Blake groaned back. “The move is to leave this be and forget we ever talked to her today.”

“Fuck,” I swore, my mind reeling, as if being this close to her was having some sort of drugging effect on me. “Okay, let’s just—”

“Officers? Can I just expl—”

Blake and I both whirled at the sound of her voice from right behind us. But then, we hadn’t expected her to be right behind us.

Samantha gasped, tumbling backwards as the force of both of us turning right into her started to knock her back. Both of us exploded into action on impulse, lurching out to catch her and yank her close.

And time froze.

Because suddenly, we were standing in the southern California twilight, with Samantha fucking Caraway in our arms.

The skin of her bare back pulsed hot under my fingers, her small hand gripping my rippling forearm tightly. She was doing the same to Blake, and her eyes went wide as they darted between us.

We were all so close — so close we could feel the heat from her body, and hear the way her breath gasped as it caught in her throat.

And right there, I knew we’d been wrong.

Yeah, we weren’t going to “get the fuck out of here” or “forget we’d ever talked to her.”

We weren’t going anywhere, with that angel in our arms.

I glanced at Blake, and he glanced at me. Our eyes narrowed, our jaws tightened, and I watched as both of our willpowers concerning Samantha Caraway finally crumbled to dust.

We’d denied ourselves for too long.

And we were done holding back.





8





Samantha




“What did I say about finding you in this car again?"

I gasped, my pulse jumping in my breast at the sudden growling nature of the blond cop’s voice. His hand tightened on my much smaller body, and I gasped a second time as he suddenly spun me around and pushed me hard up against the side of the convertible. Both of them pressed me against the hot metal and held me there tightly as they leaned in close.

“Playing with your naughty little pussy while spying on some nice couple on their own private property, hmm?" The blond-haired guy’s coarse words caught me totally off-guard, and yet sparked something wild in me as he growled into my ear.