Free Dirty Little Secret (Dirty #1) by Amber Rides Page A

flower-patterned fabric seemed objectionable all of a sudden.  Apparently, Cutter made me second-guess even the little details of my life.  I suddenly needed leather and lace.  Not cotton sheets.
    But what would he look like, wrapped in nothing but a cotton sheet?
    Oh, God.  Those sculpted abs.  Those broad shoulders.  That tattoo, rippling across his back…
    “Melissa?”
    Good God.  Why did he always make my name sound like sex wrapped in chocolate?
    I forced a sigh.  “Believe it or not, I have a life outside of your constant harassment.”
    “We could change that,” he said roughly.
    His cocky tone should’ve made me bristle.  Instead I had to fight off an urge to ask how we could change it.  My throat went dry.  An image of Cutter, tanned, muscled, and overtop of me, filled my thoughts.  I actually had to stifle a little moan.  My face flamed red, and I was ridiculously glad he couldn’t see me.
    “Thanks, ” I managed to get out. “But I’m all full up on crazy, overly testosteroned men.”
    “Testosteroned? Is that even a word?”
    “If it wasn’t before, it became one the second your over-sized biceps and over-inflated ego came into being.”
    “So me and my muscles have been on your pretty little mind, then?”
    “Not in the slightest,” I lied.
    I waited for him to call me out on it , unable to dismiss the nagging voice that pointed out that at every turn, Cutter reduced me from a poised, thoughtful girl into this foul-mouthed harlot.  Okay, maybe not harlot.  But at the very least, my reaction to him was bordering on nymphomania. My mind was irritatingly bogged down by the idea of him in my bed. 
    But he just chuckled. “What have you been concentrating on, then?”
    “Anything else, actually.”
    He chuckled. “But you’re thinking about me now .”
    “I am not .”
    “What’re you thinking about, then, right this second?”
    “I don’t remember agreeing to this game of truth or dare.”
    “Scared to tell me?”
    “Fine.” I scrambled for a believable claim. “I was just thinking that I haven’t heard you swear since I picked up the phone. That’s some kind of record, right?”
    “Liar.”
    “Jerk.”
    “You could just admit you were picturing me naked,” he teased.
    “I was not .” Not quite, anyway. Covered in a bed sheet was different than totally naked.
    “You’re a bit of a goody-two- shoes, you know that, right?”
    “What’s so wrong with having morals?” I demanded
    “Nothing,” he assured me. “In fact, it makes this more fun. A less principled girl would already be in my bed.”
    “Shut up.”
    “Don’t be mad, baby-doll, I like you all sweet and indignant.”
    “Why would I be mad? Some guy is stalking me and pretending like he knows everything about me when really he knows nothing. I love that.”
    He laughed again. “You’re mad because I like something about you?”
    “I’m mad because you’re assuming you know me,” I replied. “Again.”
    “I think you mean still ,” he corrected.
    After a minute, he sighed loudly. “You know, you’re not actually that good, Miss Goody Two Shoes.”
    “And why is that?” I threw as much defiance into my words as I could.
    “Because you’re having phone sex with a guy you barely know.”
    Why am I putting up with this? I wondered. 
    Of course, I knew the answer.  The dampness between my legs made it obvious enough.  My face heated up, but without his blue eyes scrutinizing me, I recovered quickly.
    “I’ve never had phone sex before,” I said in a deliberately sultry voice. “Is it okay if I ask a question before we get started?”
    “Ask away, baby-doll.”
    “Is it always this boring?”
    “Ouch,” he laughed. “That hurt. Why don’t you start by tell me what you’re wearing.”
    “You’re kidding, right? That’s your line? Why don’t just breathe heavy and let me hear the sound of you touching your own –“
    He cut me off. “I can do better.”
    “Wouldn’t take