Page 26 of Dirty Little Secrets

XAIDEN

I watch her sleep, the soft rise and fall of her chest beneath the sheets.

I carried her through the garage, up the elevator, and straight into my penthouse.

Every step, I told myself not to look too closely at the curve of her thighs, the scent of her hair, or the way her body curled perfectly into mine.

I didn’t bring her to my favorite restaurant to show off. I brought her there because for some unhinged reason, I didn’t want her to think I was a complete asshole. Keeping her at arm’s length has proven to be the biggest challenge.

She shifts in the bed, her skirt riding higher on her hips. I step closer and tug the sheet over her bare legs, telling myself to behave.

She’s your secretary, you fucking idiot.

It doesn’t matter how good she looks in a bra or how those hips moved. She isn’t for me.

Still, I check the security feed making sure the motion alert is active. Just in case. It’s not just about control. It’s about making sure she’s safe. The last thing I want is for her to choke on her vomit. I don’t think she’s the type to go out and get drunk on the weekends.

I head to my room and glance at the clock and it’s 4 a.m. Unable to sleep with thoughts about her in the next room. I head for the shower.

The cold water feels like punishment. My hands brace against the tiles as freezing needles pound against my back.

I close my eyes and try to conjure any woman but Nori.

But the image won’t go away. Her lips. Her thighs.

The way her eyes slide over my skin makes me aware of every tattoo I have inked on my skin.

Red was the only outlet I had. She let me purge these twisted thoughts, let me pretend I was fucking someone else.

Every thrust into her body was a failed exorcism of Nori.

But even Red is gone now. Ghosted me before I could return the favor.

If I want her again, I’ll have to show up at the club and hope she’s behind one of those doors, willing to let me lose myself inside her and come out clean.

I step out of the shower as my phone chimes. I quickly dry off and head to my room. My gaze snaps to the hallway.

I freeze.

Bare feet pad softly across the hardwood floor.

Her silhouette appears in the dim light.

Her top hangs just beneath her breasts. Her skirt is so short, the soft triangle of her black panties peeks through with every step.

Her hair is wild. Her skin flushed from sleep.

She looks like a dream walking straight into a nightmare.

Into me .

She stops. Her gaze drops and that’s when I realize I’m still naked. My cock, hard and heavy, stands like it’s saluting her. I wrap my hand around it. Stroke once. A wave of pleasure shoots straight to my balls.

She doesn’t run like I expected her to, instead she steps closer but leaves enough distance that she can quickly retreat back into the room.

We stare. Like that day in my office, when she unbuttoned her blouse and let me see what I shouldn’t have. I tried to tell myself it was to make sure she was okay. I don’t stop. I pump harder, and her pupils dilate like she’s watching a performance made just for her.

No words. Just breath and tension. Eyes and hands doing all the talking.

She could tell me to stop. She could turn around, shut the door, call me a pig.

She doesn’t.

She watches.

And I drink her in, the curve of her waist, the way her nipples strain beneath her top. She’s not too skinny. Not too soft. Just right. Her breasts are a perfect handful. Her skin, sun-kissed and begging to be tasted. If I were a better man, I’d want more than just sex.

But I’m not.

If I wanted more, I’d live in purgatory. Constantly looking over my shoulder. She doesn’t belong in this world, the cartel, the blood, the enemies that would use her to get to me. Women like Nori want families. A life. And I can’t give her that.

“See something you like, princessa?” I ask, stroking faster.

She stares, then reaches behind her and unhooks her top. It falls. And I nearly fucking lose it.

Her nipples are pierced. Little silver spikes shining through rose-pink skin. A glimpse into haw naughty she is under the pencil skirt she wears that drive me nuts.

“Is this what you want?” she asks.

I can’t answer. Because the answer would destroy her.

This can’t happen. Not with her. If it does, it won't be once. It’ll be the beginning of the end. And I won’t be the reason she burns. I won’t be the reason that her life is at risk.

“You know that’s not possible.”

She cups her breasts, plays with the piercings. My strokes grow faster, my grip tighter. I imagine her mouth, her thighs, the wet heat of her pussy taking every inch of me.

She watches my hand like it’s a sacred act.

“Why?” she whispers.

“Because I can’t.”

The words slice through the room. She turns away. Covers herself. Shame or rejection, I can’t tell. Probably both. Regret? Maybe.

“If I wasn’t your employee,” she says, “would you?”

She means: Would you fuck me if we met under different terms?

Truth is, if she didn’t work for me, I’d never know she existed. Our worlds don’t align. She’s that last woman I would go for. Not because I don’t find her attractive but because she’s the kind you don’t fuck and forget.

“It would never happen,” I say honestly.

She flinches. Just barely. Then turns and disappears into the guest room, slamming the door behind her. And just like that, my orgasm vanishes too.

I run a hand down my face, cursing under my breath. I wanted confirmation that she wanted me the same way I wanted her.

I got it.

But it changes nothing. I can’t act on it. Can’t have her. Because if I ever buried my cock inside her, there’d be no going back. I’d claim her. And if I claimed her? She’d become a target.

And I’d lose the only thing I’ve never had, something real if she ever found out the truth about me. That I’m not just a businessman.

They say money can’t buy happiness. And I finally understand how true that is.