Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little Secrets #1) (2 page)

Running my fingers through my hair, I take a deep, cleansing breath. What do I have to lose if I spend one night with him?

 
As long as he’s not one some kind of a decoy, absolutely nothing.
 

No, he’s not a decoy. He’s not. I know it in my bones.
 

I readjust my bag on my shoulder before I make my way back into the bar. I don’t see Caleb at first, but then I feel his fingertips slide along the crook inside my elbow. The touch is light, but full of intent. He wants me to turn around, but he doesn’t want to force it.
 

I stop—of course I stop—and he moves in, like he’s going to tell me a secret.
 

Whatever it is he has to say, I have never wanted to hear something so badly in my entire life.
 

“Don’t walk away from me, Mia,” he whispers. His voice is low and firm, but there’s an undercurrent of pleading in it.
 

I couldn’t walk away if I tried.
 

“You have really nice hands,” I say, before I can stop myself. “It was nice when you touched me.” I shake my head as I try to get my stupid, nervous mouth under control. “What I mean is that it felt good, like…never mind.”
 

“Mia,” Caleb laughs, leaning in close. Just the way he says my name sends a thrill to all the right places, and his hot breath on my skin combined with the way his lips brush the shell of my ear make me shiver. “You have no idea how good my hands can feel.”
 

I take a deep breath, not daring to look at him. I’m a little weak, and I’m worried that I’m going to embarrass myself, because I know that Caleb felt me tremble just now.

“Are you here with someone?” he asks.
 

Does he want to know if I came to the bar with someone, or if I’m here at the hotel with someone? I suppose it doesn’t matter either way, because the answer is, “No.”

His lips lift up into a grin at my answer, and I lean in a little closer, wanting to be near the warmth of his body. He smells good, and he’s so gorgeous; it’s like every single cell in my body is a magnet, pulling me to him. I want to wrap my arms around him, I want to bury my face in his neck and breathe deep. I can’t even bring myself to worry about the fact that I’m practically intoxicated by this man that I’ve only just met. It’s insane, and yet here I am.
 

“Are you here with anyone?”
 

“No.”
 

I grin, kind of like he did just now.

“Your smile is gorgeous,” he says.
 

My apparently gorgeous smile grows bigger. “My dad paid a lot of money or it,” I say. I immediately want to smack my hand over my mouth, because I’m drunk on pheromones, and I’m going to wind up making a huge fool of myself because of it. “I mean, he didn’t pay for veneers or anything; these are my actual teeth. I meant braces. He paid for braces.” I shake my head once I finally stop talking, feeling the blush rising in my cheeks. I want to duck behind the bar and hide, but I’ll settle for bringing my hands up to my face to act as a shield because I’m so embarrassed.
 

There’s a shift in the air. I can tell that Caleb is moving closer, and then his arm brushes mine. “Don’t do that,” he says, his voice rough in my ear. He crooks his fingers around my wrists and gives them a gentle tug. “Don’t cover your face.”
 

I can’t deny his request, and when my hands drop to my sides, I give him a smile. It’s almost too much to believe that this beautiful man is as into me as I’m into him, even though he’s saying all the right things, and looking at me with unbridled heat in his eyes.
 

When he reaches up and slides his thumb across my cheekbone, it’s like the smallest touch sets my skin on fire.
 

“Beautiful,” Caleb whispers, like it’s a secret between the two of us.
 

“You’re good at this.” My voice sounds more affected than I expected it to, and the flash of lust in Caleb’s eyes lets me know that he noticed it.
 

“Good at what?”
 

I playfully roll my eyes. I’m practically putty in his hands, and he’s acting like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. “You know, the whole seduction thing.”
 

He flashes that killer smile, and I’m expecting that the next words out of his mouth are going to be utterly, ridiculously cocky.
 

“I like you,” is all he says. No smooth line, just straight and to the point.
 

“You haven’t known me long enough to know if you like me.” That is totally not true, but if he knew the reason why I’m here in this hotel, in this city, he probably wouldn’t like me very much. Especially since Caleb exudes the kind of confidence that only rich men seem to have. I’m guessing he wouldn’t be too impressed if I told him that in an impulsive moment of anger, I fancied myself a modern-day Robin Hood.
 

“I have known you long enough, and I do like you.”
 

I’m choosing to believe him, because why not? If this thing goes anywhere, it’s one night at most. It would be a nice respite, and a reprieve from the running. He is way,
way
out of my league, so I would be foolish not to take this chance while I have it. I reach out and take Caleb’s hand, and if he’s shocked by that, he doesn’t let on. I turn it in my grip, and uncurl his fingers, bringing the back of his hand to rest against my thigh. My fingertip traces the lines that stretch across his palm. His hands are calloused, something I wasn’t expecting from a man wearing such a nice suit. I figured typing was the most work he did with his hands, but now I want to feel the roughness of them gliding across the planes of my body.
 

“What are you doing?” Caleb asks, his voice stilted.

Grinning, I reply, “I’m tracing your like line.”
 

Caleb looks so adorably confused. “My what?”
 

“When I was a kid, my grandmother lived across the street from a palm reader,” I explain, as my finger continues its circuit. “I was obsessed with her; I thought she was the coolest person I’d ever seen. She wore these long, flowing dresses, and kept her hair all wrapped up in these bright silk scarves. Anyway, my grandmother, of course, thought everything that came out of this woman’s mouth was complete bullshit.”
 

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 asshole 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.”
 

“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.”
 

I’m sure that crease appears between my brows again, because what does that mean?
 

“I’m crazy for this,” he says, letting out a little breath as he looks down. He almost seems…bashful. “I know this is probably confusing, and I don’t want to confuse you. I didn’t go into that bar tonight for a one-night stand, or a quick fuck in a hotel room. I used to be that guy, and I’ve worked incredibly hard not to be him anymore. I’m trying to do things differently now, and-”
 

“So you don’t want-”

“No,” he says firmly. “I very,
very
much do.”

“I don’t understand,” I tell him, honestly. “Is this it?”
 

“No.
No
,” he says, sliding his fingertips along the shoulder of my dress, making me shiver. “This is far from
it
.” He licks his lips as he waits for my reaction.
 

“Then what…I thought that if a man was interested, he didn’t, you know, let you get away or whatever.”
 

Caleb wraps his arm around my waist, and pulls me flush against him. His erection is hard against my belly, and he’s been such a confusing jackass the past couple of minutes that I move a little, just to torture him.
 

“I’m interested,” he says, his voice choked. “And I’m not letting you get away.”
 

“I can feel that. So what are you proposing?”
 

Caleb leans forward, and licks his full, pink lips.

“You and me. Dinner tomorrow.”
 

A spark of panic works its way through my lust-filled brain. This guy has money, and dinner with him most likely means going to a nice restaurant. Going to a nice restaurant requires a dress, and I’m wearing the only one that I brought with me. I don’t exactly have room in my budget for a new one, especially when I would have to go shopping for it in Manhattan, of all places.
 

“Um…”
 

“Something casual,” he says quickly. “Just the two of us?”