Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little Secrets #1) (21 page)

Caleb hesitates before he finishes that sentence. “It’s okay, you can say stupid.”
 

“Okay,” he laughs. “Come to me before you do anything stupid. I know this thing between us is still new, and I don’t know where it’s going to go, especially now that you can safely go back to Chicago, just…come to me first. Please.”
 

To be honest, I hadn’t even considered the thought that I
could
go back to Chicago. I’m guessing it means something that the thought didn’t even enter my mind until just now, when Caleb brought it up.
 

“I can’t imagine another situation where I’ll need to steal from a sleazy slumlord to pay someone’s medical bills,” I reply, trying to lighten the mood.
 

With Caleb the way he is right now, laser-focused on the task at hand, there is no lightening this mood. “Promise me.”
 

“I promise.”
 

Caleb lets out a sigh of relief, and gives me a squeeze.
 

“May I ask what you got Kemp to agree to?”

“Forgiveness of the two million,” Caleb replies. “We both agreed that he owed you that and more for pain and suffering, so he wrote me a check, which I’ll give to you later.”
 

“I don’t want his money,” I tell him. Maybe that’s foolish of me, but I really, really don’t.
 

Caleb squeezes my shoulder. “I didn’t say you had to keep it.”
 

I grin. “Fair enough.”
 

“He’s going to continue paying for your friend’s mother to get treatment for her burns. And he’s going to get all the other buildings that he owns up to code, so this doesn’t happen again. I got him to sign a contract to that effect, so there’s no backing out of it now.”
 

I’m struck by a swooping sensation in my stomach at Caleb’s confession, and I have to blink back the tears that are stinging my eyes. The fact that Caleb not only went to bat for me, to get me out of the ridiculous mess that I got myself into in the first place, but that he went above and beyond to make sure that Amelia was taken care of, and stopped Kemp from being able to let this happen to another person? It makes me fall in love with him a little more.
 

Okay…a
lot
more.
 

“Thank you,” I whisper, bringing his injured hand to my lips. When I look into his eyes, I know he can see what I’m struggling to find the words to tell him. There’s no way I could ever sufficiently express what this means to me.
 

“I would do anything for you,” he says, smiling.
 

“Even beat the shit out of Jack Kemp? Which I’m assuming you did, based on the state of your hand?”
 

“You are assuming correctly. And I would’ve killed Privya, if I had gotten there in time.”
 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I admit. “Not that I like the fact that Sam
did
, but I don’t want blood on your hands. Not because of me. Is Sam going to…I mean, what happens now?” I can’t bring myself to ask what happens to the body. I’m guessing they’re not going to report it to the police, and it’s going to be like Privya never existed. It’s also probably smart if Caleb doesn’t answer that question.
 

“Don’t worry about that,” Caleb says, with a finality that I know not to argue with.
 

I nod, then tilt my head up to kiss him.

He brings his forehead to rest against mine, and whispers, “There were a few minutes this afternoon when I was worried I wasn’t going to get to see you again.” He pulls me on top of him, until I’m straddling his thighs. I kiss him again, but this time it’s long, and slow, and deep.
 

“I’m here,” I tell him. “I’m right here.” Gingerly, I bring his hand up to my chest, resting his palm right over my heartbeat. “Do you feel that? It’s still beating because of you.”
 

He lets his hand rest between the valley of my breasts for a moment, and then I lift my shirt up and off, tossing it on the floor behind me. Caleb’s breath catches.

“Take off your shirt,” I say, and he complies immediately. “I want to show you how good it feels to be alive.”
 

I sit up on my knees, bringing myself closer to Caleb’s height. He slides his arms around my waist, and pulls me close, kissing his way across my collarbone. My hands roam across every inch of skin they can reach: across his pecs, down his abs, and finally they tease along the waistband of his pants. I rock against him steadily, feeling him get harder and harder between my legs. I love the soft noises that find their way out of Caleb’s mouth as I move. He breathes them into me, kissing my lips hungrily. I dip my hand down under his sweatpants, brushing my thumb across the bead of moisture at the head of Caleb’s cock.

His hips thrust up into my touch, in a slow, steady rhythm. Tonight, though, I don’t want to tease him. I don’t want to draw this out, and I certainly don’t want to wait. I just want him.
Now
.

Caleb groans when I ease myself up, but his eyes hungrily follow my movement as I push my pants down to the floor. “Take them off,” I say, letting him know that I want him to do the same.

A slow, sexy grin spreads across his face as he lifts his hips and slides his pants down. He kicks them off to the side, then pulls me back down on top of him. I move my hips, sliding against his hard length, as he takes one of my nipples into his mouth. On a downward pass, I shift at just the right angle, and he slides inside of me.
 

We both exhale at the unexpected pleasure, and Caleb cups my face, pulling me close. My top lip is brushing his, but we’re not kissing. We’re just looking at each other with heavy lidded eyes, our breaths rough and ragged. Caleb traces the pad of his thumb along the curve of my lower lip, admiring my features like he’s trying to memorize everything.
 

“Don’t scare me like that again, okay? I…I don’t think I could take it.”
 

The unexpected heaviness and meaning in his voice takes me by surprise, and I wrap my arms around him. His head rests in the crook of my neck, his fingers digging into the skin on my back.
 

“I won’t,” I promise, and Caleb nods, closing his eyes.
 

Our bodies rock together, slow and unhurried. Tonight it’s more about the act of being close, of loving and being loved, than chasing any kind of pleasure (although there’s pleasure - lots of it). It’s long sighs and soft kisses. It’s whispered words of love and comfort.
 

We come together, riding out the steady, strong waves that feel amazing, and are both emotionally and physically intense. Caleb and I have always been somewhat desperate to find release, but tonight we’re just desperate to get lost in each other. Again, and again, and again.
 

After, Caleb curls around me on the couch, our arms and legs twined together. It’s comforting and safe, and I kind of want to stay here for the rest of my life. I could do that, easily, but I’ve got some unfinished business out there in the world, and I’m ready to take care of it.
 

“Caleb,” I whisper. He’s breathing so deeply that I’m not sure he’s still awake.
 

“Yeah,” he replies sleepily.
 

I take a deep breath, and swallow. “I want to go back to Chicago.”
 

Standing in the foyer of my apartment in Chicago, I feel this odd sense of relief wash over me. If I’m completely honest with myself, when I was packing my things into the bag that I took with me to New York, I didn’t really think I’d ever come back here. I thought Privya would kill me, or—best case scenario—I would be on the run for the rest of my life.
 

I never could’ve imagined that I’d meet and fall in love with a wonderful man who would change my life in so many ways, and give me a future I didn’t think I would have the last time I was in this apartment. So, I’m glad he’s here with me now, standing by my side as I take some time to decide what exactly I’m going to
do
with that future.
 

The first thing we did upon arrival was make a stop at my mailbox, where over a month’s worth of junk was piled up inside. Caleb’s holding it all in the crook of his right arm, and our bags are slung over his left.
 

“You can put that over there on the table,” I tell him, pointing to my left. “Sorry, it’s…it’s kind of sparse in here.” I take a step into the living area, which is the complete opposite the lush apartment that Caleb has in New York. This whole place is about half the size of his bedroom, and that’s being generous.
 

I lost almost everything I owned in the explosion, and I rented this studio a week after, when I was tired of sleeping on Marcus’s couch. I was living my life in a daze back then, still grieving, still unbelieving. I never bothered to put up any pictures on the wall, and barely even decorated the place. I didn’t ever think of it as “home” so much as a temporary resting place. Seems like that’s exactly what it turned out to be.

All I have in here is a bed, a comfy chair I picked up at a thrift store, and an old bookshelf filled with my favorite books that I had replaced at a secondhand bookstore. I walk over to the window, and slide my fingertips across the arms of that old chair. I spent a lot of time curled up in this thing. Sometimes I was hard at work, laptop balanced precariously on my lap. Sometimes I was reading, curled up with a blanket and a good book, hoping I could forget about life for a while. Sometimes I just sat down and cried.
 

The air is a little stuffy, because the place doesn’t have central air, and the windows have been shut ever since I left. There’s just a musty, un-lived in smell, and I’m grateful that I had the presence of mind to throw away all of my food before I left. Otherwise, this place would be unbearable.
 

I turn to Caleb, who’s standing next to my bed. He’s looking around with this small smile on his face, like he knows something that I don’t.

“What?” I ask, amused. “What’s that look for?”
 

Caleb shrugs, and takes a step toward me. “This place is very you.”
 

“It’s not even decorated, Caleb. Anyone could live here.”
 

“No, not anyone. This,” he says, bending down and sliding his fingers across the blanket at the end of my bed. “You wear this color a lot. And your pillows…” He points out the way they’re tossed on the bed, two to rest my head on and one behind me. “You sleep like that, even with me.” He lifts up one of the pillows, and smiles when he finds a pair of pajamas folded underneath. “You do this at home, too.”
 

I don’t miss his mention of “home,” like it’s there in New York, not here in this tiny apartment hundreds of miles away from the life that we’re building together.
 

“Those are books that you want to read, but haven’t gotten to yet,” he says, pointing at the small stack next to the chair. “Just like you have at home. There are a couple of the same books here.”
 

The look on my face must convey what I’m feeling at the moment: complete shock. “You notice all of that?”
 

Caleb closes the distance between us, then leans down and gives me a kiss. “I notice a lot of things about you.”
 

I caress his cheek. “Why don’t you have a seat? I should go through all of this mail.”
 

Caleb nods, then lowers himself onto my chair. He leans forward, and starts thumbing through the books on my shelf. I’m struck by the sight of him here, surprised that he doesn’t seem out of place at all. I mean, there’s something about Caleb that exudes wealth, and he still looks right sitting on my second hand chair, looking through my secondhand books. I fit right into his world, too.
 

Something about that realization strikes me hard in the chest.
 

“Mia?”
 

“Yeah?”
 

“C’mere,” he says softly. When he asks like that, I can’t help but comply.
 

I walk over, and sit down on his lap, then swing my legs over the arms of the chair. Caleb wraps his arm around my back, and places a hand on my knee, rubbing small circles across the skin there with his thumb.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” he asks, before pressing a kiss to my temple.

I take a deep breath, then tell him, “I’m thinking that this is a little surreal.”
 

“How so?”
 

“I…I’m just not sure how I ended up here. It seems a little too good to be true.”
 

“Well,” he replies with a teasing lilt in his voice. “We got on a plane and flew.”
 

I reach up and scrub my hand across his stubbly cheek, and laugh. This man, he makes me happy. Happier than I’ve been in my entire life, actually. He lit the spark inside of me that seemed to burn out after my father died.
 

“When I left here, I thought I wouldn’t ever come back. Well…not under any good circumstances, at least. I didn’t think I’d see this place again, and when I met you, I just…I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was sure that when you found out about what I’d done you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. You’ve been so wonderful and supportive, and it’s more than I ever could’ve dared to hope for. And now, I have the choice between two lives. I never thought…” I trail off at the end, because I’m afraid I’m going to start crying. This is a happy sentiment; I don’t want to ruin it with tears.
 

“I’m not going to pressure you, Mia. I told you we could make this work.”
 

“I know,” I say softly. “I just never thought I’d get to this point, you know? Where I was safe here, where you were here with me.”
 

“I want to be wherever you are,” he replies, kissing the underside of my jaw. “Wherever that is.”
 

I run my fingers through his thick hair, loving Caleb’s hum of satisfaction. “You’re being so supportive, but I know you must have an opinion.”