Filthy Dirty Secrets: Filthy Dirty Alpha Book 2 Read Free

together in an easy give and take. We are a tangle of limbs and hands on the couch. I lower her down until her back hits the cushion. Her brown hair fans out like silk across it. I pause a moment to admire the view, and she gives me an inviting smile.
    “I think—,” I start to say.
    “No,” she interrupts me. “Don’t talk.”
    She’s right. The feelings swelling in my chest bear no resemblance to anything I’ve ever felt before. I wouldn’t know how to explain them if I tried. They have hard edges and soft centers, and I’m worried if I press too hard against them I’ll slice through the hard exterior that’s kept me from forming an attachment to any woman.
    Lola wiggles her ass and swings her legs up to wrap them around my waist.
    We’re both still fully clothed. I have no idea how this is going to work, and I don’t care. I’m too caught up in the moment to plan ahead now. I trail kisses over her exposed collarbone, and she hums with pleasure. I never want her to stop making that sound. For me. Only me.
    I move lower until my lips hit the edge of her top. I catch my teeth on it and pull the fabric down over her nipples. Lola laughs and swats at me. “Don’t rip my shirt!”
    In that moment the last thing she’ll be thinking about is her clothes. I pinch her nipples through the lacy bra she’s wearing. She moans and thrusts her hips against mine as I tease the hard nubs.
    “More,” she begs, her voice a rough plea.
    I love the sound of her voice—all honey and cool professionalism turned to hot desperation. I reach around her and tug free the hooks of her bra and push it out of the way. I finally have access to her smooth, creamy skin. I give it all my attention until she’s whimpering my name.
    She struggles to get her hands between us to undo the buttons on her jeans. I’m all too happy to assist her and shove the tight denim down her hips to reveal the lacy panties underneath.
    “I want you stripped bare, so I can take you properly,” I growl.
    “The bedroom,” Lola gasps. She pushes me, and I pull away to give her room. She staggers to her feet and shimmies her jeans off. With every inch of skin she uncovers, my cock pulses harder against my zipper. She flings her shirt over her head and starts for the bedroom, tossing a heated look over her shoulder. I follow her, feeling half predator, half very aroused man.
    When I hit the threshold, she’s naked and sitting on the edge of the bed. Good girl. I tug my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor. Pausing with my fingers on the button of my jeans, I slow my movements to appreciate the view in front of me.
    Her breasts are perky and topped with dusky pink nipples. She’s soft and curvy. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve fucked her before and thoroughly enjoyed her body; this time is different. Things have shifted between us.
    I’m not good enough for her.
    It’s a strange thought that hits me out of nowhere. She’s a complicated woman—driven by pain and loss as much as determination and ambition. She’s stubborn and beautiful and too good for me.
    I’ve never doubted anything in my life, but for the first time I’m doubting myself. I have enough self-awareness to know that I’m selfish by nature, and my list of priorities is short. I was only interested in Lola in the first place because I wanted to fuck her. What does that say about me? What if she glimpses my soul like I’ve glimpsed hers and all she sees is a shell of a man who is completely unworthy of her?
    Lola doesn’t seem to be suffering from any self-doubt. She crawls backwards on the bed and gives me a sultry smile.
    Knowing that I’m not good enough for her doesn’t change the fact that I want her—need her.
    I shuck off the rest of my clothes and follow her down. Our naked bodies tangle together on the red comforter. Her hands skim up my abs and she lets out a contended sigh. I want to be enough for her. I want it so badly I’m afraid the shards of my