The Dirty Anthology Read online

  You weren’t there, on my cock, so no.

  “Just me, myself, and Jack Daniels. Pretty boring, really.”

  I’ve never cheated on my wife. Marriage is a sacred vow that I took seriously, even if Rachel took a fucking shit all over it in the end. It may just be a burnt piece of paper now, months of fighting and negotiations killing whatever good we once had.

  Not that my marital status really matters—the divorce papers were filed months ago—but it’s the last thread I have to use to keep myself in check. To stop myself from grabbing her each time she enters my office and bending her over my desk. The lingering binding, however, is fruitless in keeping my gaze from devouring Alyssa, or my dick from weeping in her presence.

  “That’s too bad. You’re too handsome to be alone at night.”

  I snap my head to look at her in disbelief, catching the pink of her cheeks before she turns away. My cock twitches and hardens as my mind plays fantasies. The thin thread of physical sanity I’ve been holding onto begins to fray, and I have to get away from her.

  But I’m too intrigued to move from beside her.

  Did I hear her right? “What did you say?” Maybe she’s fucking with me.

  Her head tucks further to her chest, the pink on her cheeks deepening.

  I’m fucked. She looks mouthwateringly delicious and the danger warning flashes in my brain, but my now hard dick isn’t listening. The precarious situation she’s putting herself in with her words… Does she have any clue what nasty things I’ll do to her?

  Three weeks remain in Alyssa’s internship, and I’m counting down the days, ready for her to be out of my sight. I can’t take the agony of her presence any longer.

  I want her.

  But I can’t have her.

  Mumbled words escape her lips before she scurries away. I’m only able to make out “copies” and I swear a “get away” and “fool of myself.”

  “Goddamn cock tease.” I take a deep breath, my fingers digging into the door frame of my office while I try to regain my calm. My hands are just itching to grab her, to claim her, to dirty her. I want to mark her with my teeth, lips, and come.

  Instead, I force one foot in front of the other until I’m able to fall into my chair, effectively stopping myself before it’s too late.

  Through my Alyssa-induced haze, I barely hear my secretary, who is trying to garner my attention. I’m just sitting, trying to get my bearings, when her annoying voice comes over the speaker on my phone.

  “Sir, your wife is on line two.” Her words make me cringe, and I glare at her through my open door. “Don’t shoot the messenger!” she calls from her desk as she gets up and shuts my door.

  I rub my eyes and let out a harsh breath.

  My wife.

  “Not anymore,” I growl out.

  Wife? More like my bank account drainer and my cheating whore. After three years of marriage, the realization that I wasted four years with a woman who was a small step above scam artist, still stung.

  “What?” I answer curtly into the phone.

  “Oooh, sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” She snickers into my ear, her little laugh grating on my last nerve.

  “I woke up still married to you, didn’t I?”

  “Touché,” she says before continuing on with whatever manner of annoyance she’s called about. “I was just calling to see how my darling husband was doing today.”

  “Cut the shit, Rachel. What do you want?” I’m already tired over whatever game she’s trying to play today.

  “Well, I seem to have maxed out my credit card, and I need you to call them and extend my credit line.”

  I’m seeing red, violent red against my eyelids that are screwed shut so tight they hurt.

  “Rachel, we’re getting divorced. Pay it yourself.”

  She makes a little tsk sound. “Part of the agreement is that you continue to pay my bills until it’s finalized, pooky.”

  I mash my teeth together, forcing myself not to go off again. I need her to settle this shit and sign the damn papers.

  “I paid the bill two weeks ago, and you are fucking telling me you spent five thousand dollars in that time!” The vein in my forehead is throbbing. “What the fuck did you buy?”

  “I didn’t buy that much.”

  “And you’ve already reached your limit?”

  “So?”

  “No,” I manage to say through my painfully clenched teeth.

  “No, what?”

  “I’m not calling them.”

  She’s silent for a moment, and I pray it’s the end. “I can come over and relieve some of your tension.”

  I flinch in disgust. “Go fuck yourself. I’m not interested in your disease-ridden pussy.”

  Her frustrated breath comes through the line. “You fucking bastard!” she screams. “I need the fucking money.”

  “Then get a fucking job!” I slam the receiver down, then pick up the phone and its base and bang it on the desk a few times in frustration before tossing it down.

  I slump back in my chair and rub circles on my temples, trying to rein my anger in. We eloped, which turned out to be the worst mistake of my life. We were happy for a little while, but then her true nature came out.

  The one smart thing I did when we got married was to make certain she had no access to any of my accounts. I gave her a credit card, in her name, with a limit she soon pushed and repeatedly abused.

  In an effort to forget about the two infuriating women in my life and gain focus on work, I pull out one of our largest client’s files. I have a meeting tomorrow morning I need to prepare for.

  Chapter 2

  “Fuck.” After almost an hour of poring over documents, checking spreadsheets, and staring at the computer, my eyes are glazed over and burning. My hands rub at my temples as I close my eyes.

  A knock at the door draws my attention away from the pounding in my head, moving it down to my dick when I look up to see Alyssa peeking in.

  She never says much—a quiet one—but there is such intelligence and maturity to her words when she does that I often forget how young she is. Then again, she is very smart, graduating high school a year early.

  “Sorry to disturb you, sir,” she apologizes as she enters, closing the door behind her.

  Sir. Fuck me. It won’t be long until the last fraying thread snaps, if she keeps that up. My mind is turning her respect into a depraved fantasy. Her hips sway in a hypnotic way as she walks toward me, and I can’t help staring at the slight jiggle of her tits.

  Shoot me now.

  “Mr. Sampson, you look tense.” Her large blue eyes are full of concern.

  Of course I’m fucking tense. You just made my cock a fucking steel pole that wants nothing more than to make you scream my name.

  And my wife is asking to ride it for money like a common prostitute. Gee, which one should I pick?

  Her seductive body walks around to stand behind my chair, her hands resting on my shoulders before digging in.

  “Oh, fuck.” I moan in appreciation for the combination of pain and pleasure she gives me. I know I’m tense, but I didn’t realize how much so until she began.

  “Does that feel good?” Her voice is merely a whisper at my ear, her hot breath on my neck.

  “Mmm, yes. Harder,” I groan as my eyes slip closed. I’m loving the feeling of her hands on me, my mind running away with the part of my anatomy I really want them to be massaging.

  “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be begging for?” Her overly seductive tone makes my eyes fly open.

  Stunned, I grab her hands without thinking, halting her movements, and pull her in front of me. Her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth. The demon is showing through, the little bit of naughty in my innocent-looking temptation.

  “Miss Lockley,” I begin, clearing my throat as I adjust my position to try and hide the bulge that she creates, “that sounded like a proposition of sorts. Do I need to remind you I’m
not only fourteen years older than you, but also your boss?”

  My hands are aching to grab hold of her. She doesn’t understand what she does to me, and her little show has me ready to push her up against the window so everyone who passes by can see my cock disappear between her thighs. Pink spreads across her cheeks and down her chest. I’m seconds away from pinning her down like a wild beast—an idea which excites me to no end.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Sampson, I was just trying to lighten your mood,” she says, and for some reason, her response rubs me the wrong way.

  I stand, upset now that she’s played with me, and not in the way I want her to. Her body moves back to give me space, but my hand shoots out and grabs her arm, pulling her to me.

  “It’s not nice to tease a man like that,” I say harshly. “We’re not like the boys you’re used to. It angers us, and many will go ahead and take what you’re offering.” I lean forward and run my nose up her neck, resisting the urge to taste her. My lips are so close to her ear as I whisper, “Don’t tempt me anymore, Alyssa, or you may regret it.” To make sure she gets the point, I caress up and down her arms, my lips ghosting across the delicate curve of her neck.

  A gasp escapes her plump lips while her hand clutches hold of my lapel. “Dean.”

  Fuck. The way she says my name is torture. She feels so good in my arms that I don’t think I can stop myself, and I find my lips trailing along her jaw toward her luscious mouth.

  I press my lips to hers, doing what I’ve wanted to for over a month, since she first sauntered in here. My tongue pushes into her mouth, tasting her. She’s fucking divine, and I lose it, turning her and pushing her against the edge of my desk.

  My hips rock against her, showing her just what she’s doing to me when my hard cock digs into her stomach.

  I want her.

  I have to have her.

  A strong knock on my door makes me freeze.

  “Dean, you got a minute?” Cooper calls.

  My blood runs cold. “Fuck.” In a frantic I-have-to-hide-her move, I grab Alyssa’s arm and push her down to the space under my desk and sit down. The click and thump of the door opening makes her eyes wide as she looks up at me, but she remains silent as I move the chair forward.

  “Come on in.” I smooth my hair with one hand while the other pulls open the file cabinet next to me in an attempt to look like I am doing something constructive. The open drawer also hides Alyssa’s form better.

  Cooper’s brown hair, the same shade as Alyssa’s, pops through the entry. “Hey, you wanna grab some lunch tomorrow?” He steps in, the door opening all the way. “I wanted to talk about Lerner and Hobbs before we give them out pitch.”

  “Yeah, sure. Noon? Palomino?”

  He grins because I’ve named his favorite restaurant. “Perfect. I’ll put it on your calendar. Have a good night. Give me a call if you want to watch the game tonight. Megan is going shopping with her sister, so I’m free.”

  I chuckle at his exuberance and shake my head. “All right. Give me a call and we’ll make a game plan.”

  “Later!” he says as he heads out the door. I start to scoot back, but freeze as he stops and turns back. “Have you seen Alyssa?”

  Her hand grips onto my leg, making me jump, which I try to play off as adjusting in my seat. She’s frozen, then I hear a soft gasp as I feel her skin on my fingers and realize I’ve reached down to caress her cheek.

  “I haven’t seen her since this morning, but if I do, I’ll have her find you.”

  Cooper waves on his way out. “Thanks.”

  I slump back into my chair as soon as the door is shut again and blow out a breath, then reach up and rub my hands over my face. “What the fuck am I doing?”

  My best friend’s little sister. She’s my best friend’s little sister.

  And I just hid her, like I was getting caught with my hand in the cookie jar, instead of her already having a reason, as my intern, to be in my office.

  It isn’t until I feel her fingers trailing up my thighs that I remember Alyssa is confined to the small space beneath me. I become hard again as she moves closer.

  I have to pull away. I’ve already done too much.

  “Stop.”

  “But…”

  I scoot back and out of her reach. There’s the sting of rejection all over her face, but I can’t do anything about it. I have nothing I can offer her.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t.” I can hear the defeat in my own tone. “I’ve already taken this way too far.”

  She stands up and gives a small smile that doesn’t cover the tears I see forming in her eyes.

  “Have a good afternoon, Mr. Sampson,” she says before turning and heading for the door.

  Words have left me, and I can’t even respond. I know if I say something, it would be about locking the door so I could pull her back into my arms. So I pour myself back into work instead and try to push her from my mind.

  “Fucking Cooper.” It’s his fault for bringing her in here. For leveraging our friendship to pull a friend favor. For shoving the most decimating temptation I’ve ever encountered into my life and then telling me I can’t touch.

  Chapter 3

  I’ve spent all of the morning, lunch, and afternoon with my dick half hard—an aching experience that’s left me in a sour mood. I can’t stop thinking about her or our kiss. Her soft lips against mine along with the small moan that left her and rippled through me.

  My body still begs for her, unable to come down from her high. Maybe, just maybe, if I have her, I’ll be able to get rid of my obsession, but there are two problems with that. One being that I will lose my friendship with Cooper and very possibly land myself in the hospital. The other problem? I worry if I give in and have her once, I’ll want more.

  I’m already addicted to everything about her. A monster salivating to devour the fair maiden.

  How am I going to be able to stay away for the next three weeks?

  If I’m being honest, I know the answer. Just as I know if she shows up in front of me right now, I’ll fuck her until we both pass out. And then I won’t let go of her until somebody pries my hands off her.

  She’s made me into a highly unstable being.

  I need to get off.

  Thankfully she’s not sitting at her desk when I exit and head down the hall to the bathroom. Stomping in, I’m pissed to find someone is in the stall. I contemplate going to a different floor when the door opens behind me.

  I rush forward to one of the urinals and undo my pants. A hiss forces its way out of me as I grab onto my cock and pull it out. It’s pure force of will to take a piss with a hard-on, and almost equally so when almost hard, but I manage it.

  There is the unmistakable feeling of eyes on me, but the sound of the toilet flushing draws my attention away. Maybe if the guy who came in after me would leave, I could get in the few minutes of dick pumping I need. With a glance at the urinal next to me, I quickly realize that’s not going to happen.

  The eyes I felt are staring at my dick as the guy bites his lip. He looks up at me and smiles, a blush racing across his cheeks when he realizes he’s been caught. I recognize him from Accounts Receivable. Hired about a year ago right out of college.

  “What? Never seen one up close?”

  I stuff my cock back in my pants, wincing in pain.

  His eyebrow lifts, the smirk on his face nothing but flirtatious, even though he still seems a little embarrassed that I caught him. “Never one that nice.”

  “Sorry, it’s taken.”

  His eyes grow wide, the blush growing. I walk past him and out the door.

  Fuck her for getting me this deranged and worked up.

  I’m so lost in my thoughts that the next time I look at my clock, it’s after six—time to leave. I pack up my laptop and shut everything else down. Hopefully my head will clear overnight and I’ll forget how right she feels close to me. If I can just erase that, I can go back to just the painful wanting. How am I going to get thr
ough the next few weeks after tasting her?

  The moment I shut the door, I stop dead in my tracks, still clutching the handle. Alyssa is standing at her desk, bending over to pick up her bag.

  She lets out a gasp. “Oh, my God, Dean! You scared me.”

  I blink at her. She’s changed—no longer in her office attire, instead gracing a pair of skin-tight jeans and some off-the-shoulder top that gives her a cute and sexy vibe at the same time. It suits her, but it also makes her look so much younger.

  “Sorry.” It’s all I can manage to say. I let the handle go, the bolt clicking into place. “You’re here late.”

  She walks around her desk, her sexy heels peeking out of her bag. The height they provide is lost in her flats, and I’m left tilting my head down further to look at her petite frame.

  “I shrunk,” she says with a small smile, seeming to read my action.

  We head down the hallway together. “Pocket-size isn’t a bad thing.”

  Her elbow connects with my ribs, and she glares up at me. “Jerk.”

  I smile down at her. “What kept you here so late?”

  She blows out a breath and rolls her eyes. “Coop.”

  “Sibling problems?” I hold my hand out to keep the elevator doors from closing as she steps in.

  “He’s playing protective older brother and getting into my business.” The corners of her mouth turn down, accentuating her annoyed look. “He still thinks I’m a little girl.”

  I quirk my brow at her. “Little? Yes. Girl?” My tongue sweeps across my lips. “No.”

  Suddenly, the elevator is a very bad place to be—a closed off space with only us.

  She turns her body toward me. “No, I’m not.”

  The atmosphere is heavy. My hands clench into fists to stop from reaching out to her. I clear my throat as the doors open and step out, once again making sure they stay open for her to walk through.

  “You changed clothes,” I say to fill the awkward, strained air.

  She nods. “Yeah, I’m going out with some friends.”

  We walk out to the parking garage, the sun still shining through the slats of concrete, and I pull out my keys. “Have fun.”