Dirty Pleasures (Page 17)

I stick my head out from behind the screen and announce, “Everyone out.”

The woman eyeballs me and looks like she’s going to argue, but she just says, “You’ve got ten minutes. And then she needs to get changed. We’ve got a meet and greet to do.”

Considering I dislike being told what to do on the best of days, her proclamation does not endear her to me. But given that I’m not in control of tonight’s schedule—yet another thing that pisses me off—I nod, and the room empties.

Holly stalks out from behind the screen and begins stripping and yelling at the same time. I follow her, but at a slight distance.

“If you ever refer to me as Mrs. Creighton Karas in that tone again, I’ll be writing a song about a nutless wonder to commemorate ripping your balls off.”

I hold out both hands, but one drops slightly in an instinctive gesture to protect my testicles. She throws her button-down shirt on a chair and peels off her jeans.

I’m too caught up in staring at her perfect ass to formulate an intelligent response. Sometimes being a man has its disadvantages, but I refuse to think now is one of those times. It turns out I don’t need to say anything, because Holly has plenty to say.

“I thought maybe, just maybe, after I explained things to you last night, you’d get it. But you don’t. You just don’t. I’ve already walked out on you once, and if you’d like not to be left behind when I drive off in that fancy new bus you had delivered today, we need to get some things straight.”

My eyes narrow, and my tone is dangerous. “Do continue. I’d love to know what things we need to get straight.”

Her eyes flash, equally dangerous. “The only way this is ever going to work is if you understand that I consider my career to be just as important as yours. I might not pull down billions, but this—” her arm swings out wide, “is my dream. I’ve given up everything to have this chance, and I’m not going to waste it.”

She’s talking like I didn’t listen to a single word she said last night in our hotel room.

“Do you think I’d be sitting in this shithole of a room, working on my phone, if I didn’t consider what you want important? I’ve rarely so much as walked across the street to go out of my way for a woman I’ve been with. They’ve all been carefully selected to fit into my life and be convenient, but not you.”

I pause, gripping her chin and lifting it so I can stare directly into her eyes. “You are decidedly inconvenient. And yet, here I am. Because I want you however I can get you, and I think I’ve made that pretty fucking clear.”

The muscles of her jaw work against my fingers, and she whispers, “I don’t want to be treated like an afterthought.”

“You’re not an afterthought. Jesus Christ, Holly. When you look at me like that, you’re my only fucking thought.”

I release her chin and she melts into me, her tense look fading away. I lean in to kiss her, but that feisty attitude of hers flares up again.

“So you’ll calm down when it comes to me getting changed in my own freaking dressing room?”

That feistiness brings my club-wielding caveman alter ego back to life. “Not even a little bit. You’re my wife; therefore the only person who is going to see that gorgeous ass or those luscious tits is me.” I think for a second. “Or a licensed medical professional.”

“My stylists are going to see me in my underwear. That’s non-negotiable.”

I tilt my head and speak directly into her ear. “As long as your stylists all either have pussies or are male and flaming homosexuals, I can live with that. Otherwise, you’re going to have a problem.” I nip her earlobe with my teeth. “And that problem’s going to be an ass so red you won’t sit for a week.”

I wait for her to explode into another tirade, but she just whispers, “If you meant that to be a warning, you missed the mark.”

My cock jumps in my pants and I open my mouth to respond, but Holly just smiles a sassy little sex-kitten smile and slips out of my arms.

“I’m not done with you, woman.” I follow her across the room.

She grabs a dress off a hanger, unzips the back, and steps in. “Good to know, but I’m on a timeline. I don’t have time to stop and screw right now.”

Have I mentioned how much I love her unfiltered thoughts? If not, that’s an oversight on my part.

She presents me with her back. “Can you get the zipper?”


I cross to the door and lock it.

“Take the dress off.”

Holly spins around, holding the dress against her chest. “Are you crazy? I have to get ready.”

“We’ve still got the rest of our ten minutes. What kind of man would I be if I let that go to waste?”

She doesn’t move as I close the distance between us. “Take the dress off, Holly.”

I love watching the goose bumps rise on her arms and the shiver that grips her. Oh yes, she’s my dirty girl.

She opens her mouth to speak.

“The only word I want to hear coming out of that beautiful mouth is yes.”

The dress falls forward as Holly releases her hold on it. I help her step out of it and lay it over the back of a chair. Then I scan the room with new eyes and settle on the vanity.

“I may not be able to mess up your hair or makeup, but I’m going to stare into those gorgeous eyes while I’m pounding into you.”

Holly’s chest heaves with deep breaths as she steps toward the vanity. She pauses, as if waiting for my instructions.