Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little #1)(4)

When I look up, Caleb is watching me intently with his never-ending green eyes. I have to take a deep breath to steady myself before I continue.

“One summer, my grandmother told me to stop bothering the woman, and taught me to read my own palm.” I glide my finger along the line that stretches from above Caleb’s thumb, down to the heel of his hand. “She used to call this the ‘like line.’ Allegedly it’s supposed to be an indicator of how long you’re going to live, but she told me it was a good way to tell if someone is an * or not.”

Caleb lets out an infectious, genuine laugh. “What’s mine showing you?”

I cradle his hand in mine, and make a show of examining his palm. Part of the reason is because I want to keep touching him for as long as I possibly can, and I think he might be on to me. I feel safe here, with him. It’s the safest I’ve felt since I came to this damned city.

“I think you’re good,” I reply, not letting go.

“These hands can show you other things,” he says after a moment, his voice very soft and inviting.

I want those hands to show me everything, to touch me everywhere. The problem is that I don’t know how to tell him what I want. Will a simple, ‘yes, please’ work?

Ultimately, I decide to be honest. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Have casual sex.”

Caleb flips his hand over, covers my knee with it, then trails his fingers up, up, up my thigh until his fingertips dance along the slit of my dress. He takes the fabric and gently slides it between his fingers. It’s such a simple gesture, but I’m transfixed by it until he slides off the barstool, then reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his wallet.

He leaves a giant tip for the bartender, then leans in. Close.

I think my heart stops beating.

“Mia,” he whispers. Nothing on this earth could tear my attention away from him. Goosebumps erupt all over my skin, like my body knows that no one has ever said words that are as important as the ones Caleb is about to say to me. “Sex with you could never be casual.”





CHAPTER THREE





“You’re on the twenty-fifth floor, huh?” Caleb asks. He’s looking down at me, and licking his lips.

“Mmm-hmm.” I slide my fingertip down the edge of the lapel of his jacket, fantasizing about what his chest looks like underneath it. I feel this jolt of amazement when I realize that I’m going to get to put my mouth all over him—wherever I want—in just a few minutes.


I’m leaning against the door to my room, and my back is cold against the metal. It’s a nice contrast to the warmth of Caleb’s body, so close to mine. His hands are pressed against the door, anchored just above my shoulders. He’s leaning into me, teasing me, and I’m loving every minute of it.

He moves in, and I can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he’s breathing. I wish he would just kiss me already. I go up on my tiptoes to end this torture myself, but I stop short when Caleb slides one of his hands across my shoulder, then up along the column of my neck, until it comes to rest on my cheek. I close my eyes and lean into it, completely under his spell.

“You don’t live in the city,” he says, his eyes sober despite the clear desire that’s written all over his face.

“I just moved here,” I tell him. It’s not really a lie, so much as it’s not the whole truth. It’s a temporary move, not a permanent one. “Do you have a room here, or were you just hanging out in the bar, trolling for women?”

Caleb laughs. “I don’t have to troll for women, Mia,” he replies confidently, sliding his thumb across my cheekbone. “I have a room here. It’s on another floor.”

“Which floor?” I ask.

“A higher one.”

I get the feeling that he doesn’t want to be a jerk and tell me that he’s staying in the penthouse, but my stomach sinks at the realization that he has a room here too. That means-

“So, you don’t live here in the city, either?”

“I just had some work done on my apartment,” he says, smiling. “A friend of mine owns the hotel, so he offered me a place to stay while the work was being completed.”

“Was being completed?” Was means that he’s leaving. Soon.

“I’m checking out tomorrow.”

I take a deep breath. “Oh.” Seems like I’m working on even more borrowed time than I thought I was, and I don’t intend on wasting another second of it. I twist myself out from under his arms, and slide my key card into its slot.

“What are you doing?” Caleb asks, amused.

“I’m opening the door, so we can go inside?” I’m confused. Did I read this wrong? No, that’s not possible, because he basically told me that he wanted to have sex with me when we were down in the bar. A quick mental replay of the events since then don’t make me feel like I’ve done anything that would change his mind, so I have no idea why I’m hesitating now.

“I’m not going in there,” he says. He’s still smiling though, so whatever news is coming next can’t be all that bad.

“You’re not?”

Caleb reaches up and gently swipes across the crease between my eyebrows, until my face relaxes completely. “No,” he says. “I’m not. I want to, don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing I want more than that. But there’s also something I want more than that.”