Free Dirty Boy by Kathryn Kelly Page B

out. She was still a virgin. The realization sank in that Story had never fucked. He wanted to feel nothing but disgust but he was more intrigued and a lot anticipatory. Being Story’s first lover appealed to him more than it should have. However, he’d been her first kiss and her first slow dance partner. Being her first fuck seemed logical and kept up with the theme. Had she been turning eighteen the night of her dinner, instead of sixteen, he would’ve fucked her then. Getting inside of her was better late than never. “You signed the paperwork without telling anyone you’ve never fucked.”
    “Ryker knew,” she said defensively, licking the lips he wanted to taste. “When he asked about my experience, I told him the truth.”
    “Really?” Just as Max suspected. Ryker knew more than he’d admitted. “What did he say to that?”
    “At first, he told me you’d be interested in the knowledge. Once I sent him my ID, he said Richard Head would deflower me.”
    He glared at her. “That’s me, and you know it.”
    “With this being your company, I would’ve thought you were behind the scenes only, until I saw you.”
    He grinned. “Saw me?”
    “Onscreen.”
    “Fucking.”
    She cleared her throat. “Yes.”
    “I serve in several capacities here.” After all, this had been his brainchild once the studio he’d been with released him. Photos of Kayleigh beaten and bruised had surfaced. Fingers were pointed at him. Accusations hurled. He’d been painted as a wife-beater and murderer, even with his father’s and brother’s statements. Gradually, the scandal had blown over and Max was determined to reclaim the career he’d lost. In spite of Kayleigh. To spite her. “You’ll be starring with me.”
    “I see.”
    Enthused, disappointed, or disgusted, Max couldn’t tell. She kept her poker face, so he’d keep his. He’d push aside thoughts of the hell he’d gone through to focus on her. He wouldn’t show how much the idea of having her excited him. “Will you reconsider walking out the door? You did sign the contract. If Ryker said Richard Head would fuck you, that meant onscreen.”
    “I need money to stay in school, Max. To survive. I’ll keep to the contract if you amend it. My issue is filming me having sex for the first time.”
    Max wouldn’t waste his time coaxing her to fuck onscreen. He’d have to talk to her too long, feel that spark between them that shouldn’t have been there in the first place, considering her age. “I’ll feed you and send you back to Dallas if you fuck me.”
    Her mouth formed an ‘o’, but those very expressive eyes gave her away. They flickered to Max’s mouth, then down his body, her curiosity heightening his awareness of her.
    His cock started stiffening, so he upped the ante. “If you honor your three-month contract, you can stay with me. In my bed. Fuck buddies. No strings attached. We’ll both be fucking others in front of the camera. There’s no room for jealousy.” None at all. At the first sign, he bailed. Nor was their room for lies.
    Her tongue darted out and licked her lips, tempting Max to the edge. “I’d still have to do the deflowering scene?”
    Max nodded.
    “With you?”
    “With me,” he confirmed. Virgins had never been his thing. But, fuck it. Pussy was pussy, this was business, and he wanted to fuck. That was the easiest way to explain his eagerness. Harder to define was his odd combination of desire, nostalgia, a bit of protectiveness and the overwhelming possession that outweighed his anger toward her.
    “Will you hurt me on purpose?”
    Unappreciative of her quiet question, he narrowed his eyes. Despite his surfacing belligerence, she didn’t back down. She stared at him, trying to take his measure, her mistrust pissing him off. She didn’t get the right to be mistrustful.
    “You’re either fucking me, or you aren’t,” he answered.
    No woman had to the right to mistrust him. Ever again.

Chapter Nine
     

     
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