Page 1 of Dirty (Chicago Underground 5)
Chapter One
Luke flashed a small enigmatic smile. “I ought to drag you out of here myself.”
I tensed.
“But since you don’t trust me, you’d probably make a scene. Then we’d both be screwed.” His lips flattened. “Which is why you felt safe enough to show up here. You pretend you don’t trust me, but you come here, wriggle under my thumb, knowing I could trap you so easily.”
Apparently done waiting, Chase opened the door, blinding us both. I leaned against the wall, unembarrassed by my breathless state, and felt Luke’s hands straighten my shirt. He buttoned my jeans. I had been undressed by many men, but it was a novel experience to be dressed by one. Everything with him felt that way. I looked up. A wash of orange light fell over Luke’s face, revealing his small, knowing smile.
“What?” I asked.
“Now,” Chase murmured. “She needs to go now.”
“What is that, some kind of psychobabble? I trust you, but I don’t want to trust you?”
“You said it, not me.” A glint entered his eyes. “I’d tell you to make up your mind, but I’m starting to think it doesn’t matter. One of these days, I’m going to take you. And then I’m going to keep you.”
In a blur of black-suited coat and sandy-brown hair, he disappeared from the room as quickly as he’d come. I stared after him, a little shell-shocked. I had expected him to push me for sex. Do the right thing, Shelly. Trust me, Shelly. Be a good girl so I can fuck you without feeling like an abuser, Shelly.
But what did he mean by keeping me? Like some sort of concubine. Crazy.
I straightened my jeans and smoothed my hair. Hadn’t I worn a cap? I glanced around but didn’t find it. Dim light pooled through the open door, revealing a dusty concrete floor and rows of brown boxes. Well, this worked too. I would take a different exit from the one in front, in case anyone tried to track me through security footage later. They wouldn’t, but paranoia was the constant churn that kept me above water.
In the main inventory room, Chase glared at me. I wondered if there had been any real urgency or if he’d just wanted me to stop sucking face with his favorite detective. It didn’t matter. I’d accomplished what I came here to do.
“I know what you did in there,” he said.
“Oh really, was it the pornographic sounds we made or the fact that I’m half-dressed that gave it away?”
“I told you,” he accused. “I told you not to touch him.”
“No, you told me not to hurt him. And he doesn’t swing that way, so it really wasn’t likely.”
“Don’t act naive, like you don’t know what effect you have on men.”
“Of course I know what effect I have,” I said lightly. “It’s big and hard and hurts every time.”
He shut up then, pursing his lips lest I forget he was pissed. Once I had straightened my clothes, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. Never leave a man angry; it only gave them more time to stew.
His expression eased. “Shelly, I don’t like you two together.”
“Get in line. After me. Then him.”
“You say that. Excuse me if I don’t believe you while you’re all flushed from making out with him like teenagers.”
“Teenagers?” I glanced at the back room. “Is that who you bring back there?”
He snorted. “Such charm. I don’t know why I like you.”
“Ah, but you do like me. That’s part of what makes me mysterious. Men like mysteries,” I said sagely.
