Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little #1)(11)

“My childhood home, it was in this crappy, low-income building, but I had good memories there,” I tell him. “It burned down last year, and…I couldn’t even go on that side of town anymore. I’d pass it all the time when I was riding the El, and it made my breath catch every time. There was this hollow ache in my stomach that didn’t ease up until I left.”

I don’t tell him that my father was still living in that building when it burned down. I don’t tell him-

“It’s nice to go to a place where you don’t run into a memory every time you turn around.”

I nod, then move closer to Caleb, and this time I don’t try to hide it. He wraps his arm around me, and I snuggle into his warmth. With my head buried against his neck, I breathe in the clean smell of him, then press my lips against his neck. He lets out this low rumble that barely even registers, but I can feel it against my cheek, and then we’re kissing.

It’s soft, and long, and slow, and makes the kiss that we had earlier in the bar almost tame in comparison. Our tongues brush together, and Caleb’s fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. I wrap his henley around my fingers, grabbing a fistful of fabric, just needing something to hold onto.

When we stop and take a time out to breathe, he says, “Let’s go inside.”





CHAPTER SEVEN





“C’mere,” Caleb says, crooking his finger at me.

He’s sitting on the couch, relaxing back into the cushions, with a lust-drunk look on his face. We haven’t had that much wine, but he’s clearly got a little bit of a buzz going. The whole effect on him is really nice.

I take a step into the space between Caleb’s knees, and he gives me this cute pout in return. Clearly he was expecting me to move in a way that provided us with a lot more body-to-body contact. Intent on achieving this, he takes my hand and gives it a little tug.

“C’mere,” he says again, more emphatically this time, inviting me onto his lap.

With the soft lilt of Caleb’s voice and the desire in his eyes, I can’t say no to that. I lower myself down until I’m straddling him, my knees planted on either side of his thighs. One of his hands comes to rest on my hip, and the other slides around to the small of my back, where his fingertips find their way beneath the hem of my shirt. His palm presses against my skin, and I move, giving us a little bit of friction. It’s not too much, and we’re both wearing jeans, but still…it’s good.

I sink further down, until I can feel his erection, and I move my hips again. Caleb sucks a breath through his teeth in a long, quiet hiss.

“Mia,” he breathes.

Our lips crash together in a heated frenzy, and Caleb licks into my mouth. He tastes sweet, like the wine, and his lips are warm and insistent. The hand that was resting on my back slides across my hip to run up my side, lifting my shirt up as he goes. What I want is for him to take my shirt off, to touch me without fabric between us, but he doesn’t seem to want to do that just yet.

“Are you teasing me?” I ask, breathless.

I feel Caleb smiling against my mouth. “Mmm. Yes,” he replies. “And I’m teasing myself, too.”


My hands slip down his chest, across the broad, rippling muscles that are hidden beneath his henley. When I reach the waist of his jeans, I scoot back on his lap a little to give myself better access.

“What are you-”

I cup him through a layer of denim, pressing my palm against his cock as I glide my hand back and forth. There’s this soft, barely-there whimper that escapes the back of his throat as he rocks up against me, enjoying the friction. The fact that I can make a noise like that come from a man like Caleb, gives me a sense of power that swirls in with the lust that’s coursing through my veins. Caleb’s head drops to the crook of my neck as he lets himself get lost in sensation. He starts sucking on my neck, then he plants soft, teasing kisses along the neckline of my shirt.

It’s…it’s too much. It’s also nowhere near enough.

“Take it off,” I breathe.

“Yeah?” Caleb says, his lips against my ear. “Why should I?”

A short, quiet whine escapes my lips before I can stop it, and I can feel Caleb’s smile. “Because,” I say, panting. “Because…”

“Tell me what you want, Mia. Or else you won’t get it.”

“I want…” His hands and lips are doing things to me, making it difficult for me to think.

“Say it.”

“I want your hands on me. I want to feel your mouth on me.”

Slowly, so slowly, Caleb slides my shirt up and over my head. He takes a moment and gives me an appreciative look, then he gives me exactly what I asked for: his hands on me. His mouth on me.

His fingertips tease the clasp of my bra, while he kisses a trail across the lacy cup covering my right breast, then my left. He gently bites my nipple through the fabric, his warm breath giving me goosebumps. When he undoes my bra, I can’t help but shrug out of it as quickly as possible, letting it fall to the floor.

Caleb immediately palms my breasts, and my head falls back as I let out a moan, reeling from the pleasure of his touch. I have to clasp my hands around his wrists to steady myself; it would be so easy to lose myself in his touch. His hands are rough in a good, good way. He flicks his thumbs across my nipples, and then leans in and teases me with his tongue. He sucks my left nipple into his mouth, his soft, warm tongue rubbing across it, driving me crazy.