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Dirty Love
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Dirty Love
Copyright © 2013 by Olivia Starke
ISBN: 978-1-61333-569-7
Cover art by Fiona Jayde
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
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www.decadentpublishing.com
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Also by Olivia Starke
The Edge
Her Moonlight Lover
Midnight Madness
Zombie Lovin’
Vegas is Dead, Baby
Living is Overrated
1Night Stand
Familiar Desires
Dreaming in Blue
Dirty Love
A 1Night Stand Story
By
Olivia Starke
~DEDICATION~
As always, this is dedicated to my readers.
Chapter One
I’m going to die tonight.
Jared Stewart stared at the metal abomination and fisted his hands by his sides. How the hell would he get out of this one?
“Come on, sugar. I’ll give you a ride you’ll never forget.” The blonde straddled the metallic beast, her glossy lips parted in a smile hinting wicked intent. Her mini skirt rode to an indecent height, exposing pale, well-muscled thighs—good, solid thighs for the things he had planned. But his plans were being curtailed, the slow sensual night turning into a daredevil show with him the star. He’d never been on a motorcycle in his life, and for good reason. They were dangerous.
Madame Evangeline, what did I ever do to deserve this humiliation?
His date, the beautiful and irrepressible Kat Monroe, was fire compared to his…wet towel. A networking engineer by day, he’d signed up for the exclusive 1Night Stand dating service because of their discretion. God knew what his overprotective mother and family would do if they learned he’d gone online for casual sex. His guess—lock him in a room and throw away the key. They’d fought him tooth and nail when he’d made the decision to leave them behind in Montana and move to California.
He hadn’t been prepared for the petite Southern fireball casting him an annoyed glance over her shoulder. “You’re the epitome of dull geekery, sugar. Live a little. Now climb on and hold tight.”
But I want to live! the desperate voice of reason screamed in his skull. Rebel, yes. Go careening over the pavement at high speeds, big fucking no. He turned his attention back to his date, trying to curtail his fear. Blood-red highlights weaved throughout the platinum hue of her hair. He ran his palm over his close-cropped, sensible cut. Why in the world would a dating service set the two of them up? Didn’t fireballs and wet towels cancel one another out?
The crotch rocket didn’t appear stable enough for two, especially considering his long limbed frame. Her backside perched on the saddle made him reconsider. Her shapely legs encased by tall black boots hitting above the knee were icing on the cake, and his cock swelled. Embarrassed, he shoved his fists into his pants pockets, hoping to hide his wayward body part. She shoved a helmet between them and turned back to the motorcycle, revving the engine. He tugged the helmet over his head, taking advantage of her distraction so she wouldn’t notice his raging hard-on.
“You only live once, right?” He climbed on behind her, his groin nestled against her butt. Warmth seeped through his slacks, and he willed his penis to behave. She wriggled against him, a few layers of fabric away from wild doggy style in public. He clamped his teeth together, pulse pounding in his ears.
“Sure, sugar, whatever you say.” She pulled on the other helmet, a deep red to match the bike and her hair streaks. The engine of the monstrosity roared, and he looped his arms around her waist, all worry about his raging hard-on erased when she swerved onto the street.
***
A full, buttery moon shone high overhead. Kat cut through the heavy Los Angeles traffic, letting the custom Yamaha R6 do what it did best—race. Hot, smoggy air whipped around her while she weaved in and out between cars and trucks. Horns blared and a few angry shouts made her smile. One of the things she loved best about Los Angeles on a bike, traffic congestion. It spoke of people with places to go in a hectic city moving in a blur.
Though millions of people waited within the city limits, she’d wanted a particular type of person when it came to a date this night. The 1Night Stand dating service had rave reviews, and the man they’d chosen fit her very specific tastes. Jared impressed her with his intelligence and ability to make her laugh. Tall, with hard muscles thanks to Ironman competitions, dark brown hair, and sparkling gray eyes, his looks alone had her attention. Her type head to toe and judging by the lustful gazes from other women where they’d shared dinner, she wasn’t the only one.
What really captured her—his awareness of everything happening around him. Throughout their evening together, from a waiter brushing lint off his shirt sleeve, to the shadow of a cat darting behind a building, regardless of how insignificant, it seemed worthy of notice. His sharp curious gaze zeroing in, assessing, then moving on. Making it a game for her to find what’d caught his attention—she never noticed anything unless it bashed her over the head. His perceptiveness added an exciting element to her plans.
Pulling down a Hollywood side street, she approached the Orgy Room’s location for the night. Her heart beat faster. Bringing a date like Jared would stir up a hornet’s nest. An unknown man, and someone who could out their existence wouldn’t go over well. She steered into a parking garage and waved to a guard—one of the club’s regulars. He frowned, sizing up her passenger before swinging the gate open. She zipped up two stories and pulled into a space.
Jared clutched her tighter. She removed her helmet, placing it aside, ruffling her hair then stroking his long fingers. Wonderful tingles settled low in her belly. Her pussy tight, her hormones cranky with being denied—no man had ever had such a strong effect on her. What made this one so special?
“How are you doing back there?” she asked over her
shoulder.
He gave her a light squeeze and muffled reply. “I survived.”
She nibbled her upper lip. This proved her best game since jumping into her new life. Guilt niggled at her and she reminded herself they were after the same thing—sex. So what if a little something extra got thrown into the mix? He’d be none the wiser; she’d make sure of it. Tomorrow, he’d be gone, and she’d move on to whatever new thing amused her. The simple joys were coming fewer and farther between, and ramping up the thrill level kept her sane. When she ran short of distractions, unbearable emptiness took hold.
Kat swung a leg around the saddle and faced him, a hand between her thighs hiding a more immodest, and wanted, view. Jared braced his feet on the concrete and removed the helmet. She took it from him and hung it on the handlebars opposite hers. Adrenaline surged after the breakneck ride, and he forced down the wild thrill coursing through his blood. God forbid he give in to it. The results would be horrific. He studied his surroundings, counting his heartbeats, slowing his out-of-control pulse. Surveillance cameras trained on them from above, and he studied them, curious about their purpose.
She shrugged, the corner of her enticing mouth curling up. “The guards for the club have to make sure the wrong people don’t sneak in. They always set up cameras. Overkill in my opinion, but it’s their thing.”
He rubbed his palm over his hair. They were so close, her body heat warmed his front, their thighs brushing on the motorcycle. Her sweet spicy perfume filled his head, and his cock jumped to full alert. He cleared his throat. “You still haven’t filled me in on this secret nightclub.”
Her lashes fluttered and she graced him with her devilish smile.
“Only special people get invited, and I happen to be one of them.” Her pink tongue stroked over full lips, taunting. Leaning over, he hoped to hide the tenting in his slacks. Kat placed hands on both sides of his face, pulled him in, planting her mouth on his.
Incredible. He tasted strawberry lip gloss. The wet heat of her mouth invited more, and he pressed her back against the bike, grasping her hips, pulling her closer. She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding into him. Pressure built in his balls. Something primitive stirred deep within, drawing a growl from his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to rip the clothing from her body with his teeth.
He reached beyond her, grasped the handlebars, using them for leverage, pumping between her spread thighs, teetering on the brink of an explosive orgasm. The cinnamon-sweet perfume of her silky flesh robbed him of thought and common decency. He yanked his zipper, desperate for union before he lost control of his will.
She braced her palms on his chest and pushed with surprising strength. His body resisted, but she forced him to give ground. “Easy now, big boy. We have all night.”
She sucked in gulps of air, her chest heaving.
Cold shock hit and he jumped off the bike, stumbling back. He struggled from the fog of lust, swiping a hand over his face. Hell, he never lost it.
“I apologize for my…crudeness. I mean the cameras are there, and…and….” He couldn’t come up with an adequate apology.
“No worries. The bike is built for speed and sex. Trust me, I’ve tested it for both.” She patted the saddle, cutting through his inner tirade. He clenched his fists, the idea of her with another man boiling his blood.
It’s still too close to the surface. He had half a mind to run, put space between him and the temptress drawing more from him than lust, but his feet rooted to the spot. Her gaze raked over him, her pupils swallowing the baby blue of her irises lending a dark, fathomless gaze. A shudder coursed through him. He saw something he couldn’t define. Not quite fear, it challenged him, made him want to lunge for her. Whether to close his fingers around her neck until her vertebrae cracked or to plunge his cock into her pussy, he couldn’t be sure.
He staggered backward. He was used to the inner mood swings, but nothing like the ferocity welling up. His mind swam with it; his vision blurred to scarlet.
She shut her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them again, the cerulean reappeared, and the tightness in his chest eased. Perhaps he’d gone too long without female companionship, and with guaranteed sex so near, testosterone spiraled out of control. Half a dozen excuses rumbled through his mind, but none left him at ease.
She hopped off the motorcycle and laced their fingers together. “Are you ready, sugar?”
A tremor in her voice—had she seen what lay in his thoughts? He drew a hard breath into his lungs. If he left now, he’d regain the strict control running his life. So would his family. He suppressed a growl—he’d keep himself in check. He’d done it since childhood.
“As I’ll ever be.”
Chapter Two
Kat flashed her megawatt smile.
Jared frowned, studying her face, not quite trusting her. This could be one hell of a prank. “Are you sure about this?”
“Come on.” She winked. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I thought these things were urban legend. I never imagined I’d see one in real life.”
His date’s gaze glimmered with mischief. “There are lots of big hairy surprises out there for those brave enough to search for them.”
“Like you, for one.” He cleared his throat. “Except for the hairy part. I hope, anyway.”
A slight blush colored her cheeks, and he brushed his knuckles over the soft skin there. Shadows marred the smoothness beneath her eyes. Had she been sick? Or maybe her party girl lifestyle drew out too much. She stepped back.
“Cowboy up, sugar.” She grasped his hand and pulled him forward, again surprising him with her power. Under the softness of her curves lay a fair amount of muscle. He swallowed. She could ride him without tiring, take his maddened pounding for hours. It’d take all night to spend the pent up energy boiling in his veins. He’d passed the point of return; jerking off wouldn’t satiate his needs. Without sex, and soon, he’d run howling through the streets, a crazed animal.
After taking an elevator to the basement level of the parking garage, she led him to a red door and rapped on its freshly painted surface. Dark corners closed in on them. The hairs on his arms and neck rose. He sensed being watched. More cameras. Were as many inside? And maybe a live Internet feed his family could run across in some improbable way?
Don’t create imaginary monsters. He squared his shoulders.
A partition slid open. Dark eyes narrowed, focusing on Kat who lifted a pale brow. The panel slammed closed, and Jared let a small sigh slip. Could he be off the hook? This night had turned out to be more than he’d bargained for, leaving him ready to tuck tail and run. Find somewhere else to indulge his feral wants with his date. The door swung open, and the odor of incense assaulted him. His escape option evaporated.
Kat clutched Jared’s hand and charged through the door, shooting the guard a dirty look for making them wait. She searched for Davis in the piles of couples, threesomes, and more writhing on the floor and furniture. Jared squeezed until her knuckles popped, his gaze sweeping the room. A muscle in his jaw ticked. She’d become accustomed to the Orgy Room; the mass of meaningless fucking didn’t bother her anymore. Its accompanying odors, sights, and sounds didn’t thrill her blood, but for a newbie—and she’d once been one—it proved an attack to the senses.
Bringing a conservative northern Montana boy into a den of uninhibited West Coast sex—would it be too much for him? If he bolted, it’d ruin her plans, leaving her the idiot. No doubt, making Davis’s day.
Plus, she’d miss having his company for the night. She’d spotted wildness in him while upstairs, which frightened her a little. He couldn’t hurt her. It’d be impossible for someone like him to go further than she wanted. But whatever simmered beneath his collected exterior fired her up and promised one hell of a night.
During dinner, they’d opened up to one another. A weird and uncomfortable experience for her, yet she hadn’t been able to hold back. She’d l
earned about Jared’s fatherless childhood—the man had disappeared when his mother got pregnant. The typical deadbeat dad who hadn’t wanted to deal with a kid, and outside of the donation of eye color and a Y chromosome, he’d gotten nothing else. They’d moved around a lot after his birth; he’d never understood why.
She’d divulged her tumultuous family life and her parents’ messy divorce. How she’d moved to L.A. to pursue acting, and instead, gotten sucked into a different world through an acquaintance. Though she’d remained vague; best not to reveal all her dirty laundry.
She shook loose the memory, shoving it into the rarely used give a damn corner of her brain. Several lust-drugged gazes settled on them and she grinned, indulging in their disbelief. She turned to her date and traced her palms up his shirtfront, enjoying the feel of well-toned muscle beneath the conventional cotton polo. His scent enveloped her, earthy mixed with pure male. Strong and unique to him, it made butterfly wings beat her insides and her nipples pucker. His hands covered hers.
“You’re not what I expected, Miss Monroe.” He smiled and her heart galloped. In the low lighting, his silvery eyes appeared luminescent.
“That’s the idea.” She took a moment, studying his jawline and the curve of his smile. All evening they’d left her unsettled.
He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
She lifted on tiptoes, and he met her. She tasted his tongue, sucking it between her teeth, rubbing her breasts against him, teasing her sensitized nipples. The bulge in his slacks told all she needed to know. Searing heat washed through her, demanding more. She reached down and traced the outline of his erection.
He pushed her shoulders, and she stumbled back. Still high from the kiss, she swayed, clutching his shirt.