Pretty Dirty (Dirty Bad Things Book 2)(7)

…The girl you paid to be “yours.” I could punch myself. I mean, what the fuck was I thinking?

“Forget my place, how do you live in this building?”

She arches a sharp brow at me as I bite my tongue.

“No offense.”

“Oh, none taken,” she says sarcastically.

I hide my grin. Shit, this is the Alice I’ve come to know — that bit of sass, that fire under the surface.

I finish cleaning the abrasion on the side of her head and she takes another sip of water.

“It’s not my place, it’s…”

“His.”

I don’t say Joey’s name, because there’s no reason for me to know his name.

She nods. “Kind of. It’s a weird scenario.”

I bet it is.

“Why the hell did he hit you like that?”

“Money,” she shrugs. “I was supposed to pay him today and forgot to text him back.”

The rage flares up like fire inside of me.

“So he did this?”

She shrugs again. “Yep.”

“Fucking animal,” I hiss, the anger bubbling up hotter and brighter. I want to fucking kill him with my bare hands.

Suddenly, she shakes her head and starts to stand, the blanket still wrapped around her.

“I have to go.”

I frown and shake my head as I put my hand on her arm.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Her brows shoot up. “You can’t keep me here.”

“Yes I can.”

She gives me that sharp, defiant look, but I give it right back. She breaks first and looks away.

Her cheeks are flushed, I like that.

“You can stay here,” I say evenly.

“Okay,” she whispers. The voice is like she’s let her guard down.

She glances back at me, swallowing again as that defiant look turns to just plain scared confusion.

“It really is you, isn’t it?”

I nod and she bites her lip.

“Look, Lewis—”

“My name isn’t Lewis.”

“Fine. But our arrangement—”

“I’m not translating it into actually owning you, pretty girl,” I say with a grin.

She bites her lip, her big blue eyes burning into mine.

“So, you’re my neighbor.” She grins, shaking her head. “Daddy is my neighbor.”

I groan inside at the trigger word that has my cock throbbing rock hard.

“How the fuck does that even happen?”

I laugh deeply. “I honestly have no idea.”

“I mean seriously, what the hell are the odds—”

“Are you really going to use the ‘what are the odds’ line in this town?”

She grins, and then laughs. And then we’re both laughing before we stop and look at each other before glancing away.

It’s a weirdly intimate moment, even though I’ve already seen her naked. I’ve seen her make herself come. And fuck is it hard not to think of that right now.

“What’s your name?”

She bites her lip, her smoldering blue eyes lasering in on mine as she drags her teeth across her bottom lip.

“Your real name.”

She waits another second before she slowly opens her mouth.

“Zoe,” she says quietly. “Three letters, two syllables.”

“I’m Gray. One syllable.”

She smiles and sticks her hand out, and when I close my much larger one around it, I swear every cell in my body comes alive.

“Nice to meet you, Gray.”

“Nice to meet you, Zoe.”





5





Zoe




His place is beautiful. I mean, the condo Joey has — or had — me staying in, which I think he won in some poker game or something, is nice. But this place is another whole level of incredible. It’s got my view, but better, and my floor plan, but five times bigger. And a balcony so big, I’m pretty sure you could ride a bike back and forth across it. Or plant a garden big enough to feed the building or something.

He takes my hand in the living room and leads me down a long, low-lit hallway, past a ton of other rooms.

Yeah, at least five times bigger than mine.

We step into an insanely nice bedroom — immaculate, white everywhere, with a huge bed and two whole walls of glass that look out over the Strip.

“Smooth,” I smirk as we step in.

He turns, arching a brow and grinning. I’m glad he doesn’t get all flustered, it’d be a turnoff.

Turnoff. God, like I need this man to turn me on anymore.

He was sexy on chat. He’s a fucking walking sex dream in the flesh. Sweet, charming, gorgeous, built, and yummy as hell in the flesh. Perfect chin, broad shoulders, muscled and lean looking. Forearms — my God I could stare at him all day.

And then there’s the ink that I can see, curling out from the sleeves of his dress shirt.

White teeth to go with that dark smirk, and searing heat around his eyes.

I swallow thickly, realizing I’m completely staring at him. Yeah, my mystery man is a dream man come to life.

“I was actually going to get you some clothes to wear.”