Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little #1)(7)

“Mia,” Marcus says softly. “Thank you. I never told you that, and I should’ve.”

The tone of his voice, and the complete lack of judgment makes the tears prick behind my eyes. It would be nice to have him here with me; part of me wishes that I had taken him up on the offer, but there’s no sense in two of us getting mixed up in this when I can take the fall on my own.

“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell him. “She always treated me like I was her own. It’s the least I could do.”


There’s silence on the other end of the line, and I get the feeling that Marcus is fighting off the tears like I am. It makes the situation feel even more hopeless, but it also steels my resolve.

“I better go,” I tell him.

“Okay.”

“I’ll call you soon.”

I hope with everything I have in me that I can keep that promise.





CHAPTER FIVE





The bar is busier than it was last night, and is chock full of gorgeous men in suits. Any other night, at any other time in my life, I’d be in heaven in a room full of men who look like this. Handsome, in well-tailored suits, talking shop with each other as they decompress from their workdays with drinks in their hands. Tonight, though, I’m only looking for one handsome guy.

I stand just inside the entrance, right behind a pillar, in an area that gives me a good vantage point of the room. I’m short—I can barely clear shoulder height of most of these men—so I’m having difficulty seeing through the crowd. I don’t know much about Caleb, but he seems like the kind of guy who would arrive early, just so I wouldn’t have to wait.

It only takes me a minute to find him. He’s sitting at the same table he found me at last night. I’m not sure why it didn’t occur to me to look there first, but finding him there lets me know that he’s not only punctual, but he’s probably a tad sentimental as well.

I’m pleased to find out that when Caleb said tonight would be casual, he meant it. He’s wearing a simple enough outfit, the kind of thing that I normally wouldn’t look at twice, but on him, it’s a mouthwatering combination: dark jeans and an emerald green henley that shows off the broad expanse of his muscular chest. The collar of the white t-shirt he’s wearing underneath peeks out, contrasting nicely against his tanned skin.

I thought the suit he had on yesterday was flattering to his build, but that was nothing compared to this.

My bag is slung over my shoulder, and I grip the handles tightly as I navigate my way through the clusters of people talking. The second that Caleb sees me, his whole face lights up.

“Hi,” we both say at the same time.

We repeat it again, and laugh at each other.

It feels so good to be here with him that, operating on instinct, I lean in and press a gentle kiss to his smiling lips. It’s nice, and soft, and perfect. When I pull away, my eyes are wide with surprise. I can’t believe I did that. Apparently, neither can Caleb.

“I’m sorry, I guess I just-”

Before I have a chance to finish my sentence, Caleb’s warm hands are cupping my face and pulling me in for another kiss. I open my mouth to him, loving the long languid kisses and the feeling of his velvet tongue against mine. I nip at his lip, and his hips buck against me. I want more of this; I don’t even care about the world outside of the two of us as long as I get so much more of this.

“Don’t apologize for that,” he says, after he pulls away. His eyelids are heavy with lust, and his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath. “Don’t ever apologize for doing that.”

I lean in for more, and Caleb indulges me, until someone beside us coughs loudly. I had completely forgotten we were in public.

When we part, I lick my lips, and slide the pad of my thumb across Caleb’s lower lip to wipe off the smear of my lipstick there. We both look at each other, panting a little. After last night, I wasn’t sure how our first kiss would happen, but now that I know what it feels like to kiss Caleb? He was right: I would’ve begged him to do it.

Now, though, I get the feeling that I won’t have to beg for anything at all.

“Do you want to get a drink before we go?” Caleb asks. His voice is a little husky, and the fact that I have that kind of effect on someone like him makes me feel powerful.

“Where exactly are we going?”

Caleb grins. “Does your answer hinge on my answer?”

“Perhaps,” I say with a coy smile. “If you tell me we’re going to do some kind of trendy date activity, like…I don’t know, couples trapeze or something, then my answer is yes. I want to get a drink before we go.”

Laughing, Caleb says, “So, drunk trapeze work is something you’re interested in?”

“Not drunk, necessarily. Tipsy,” I clarify. “Tipsy trapeze work.”

Caleb slides his hand down my arm, until his hand clasps mine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “We’re not doing anything circus related. It’s very tame.”

“Describe ‘tame’,” I reply, arching my brow.

“Going to my apartment. Just you and me. It might not stay tame, but it’ll start out that way.” There is a mischievous kind of promise in his voice that sends a shiver of anticipation along my spine.