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Dirtiest Secret by J. Kenner (25)

“This is more than just fucking, isn’t it?”

Dallas smiled as he remembered Jane’s words that morning as she’d rolled over in bed to face him.

He’d known what she was asking. Are we trying to make something here? Is it possible? Can I even dare to hope that we can have something real?

They had some serious hurdles to face, god knew. And it would be hard. Just thinking about the issue of their parents made him cringe.

But none of that mattered, because there was only one answer that counted.

“Yes,” he’d said. “Yes. It’s a whole lot more.”

They’d made love that morning—and as she’d reminded him, it didn’t matter that he wasn’t inside her, it was still making love—and then he’d made her breakfast. Thankfully Jane liked her privacy, and Ellen, her housekeeper, didn’t live onsite, so he’d had time to run upstairs to get dressed when he heard the key in the front lock and the beep of Ellen disengaging the alarm system. The last thing they needed was for the help to start spreading rumors.

For a moment, he wondered what he would say to Archie, whom Dallas had always suspected knew of the attraction between the two Sykes children. That, however, was an issue he’d deal with later.

Right now, he was in his downtown office trying to catch up on both Sykes work and Deliverance work—and managing neither very efficiently since his thoughts kept returning to Jane.

He wished he was with her, and he hoped her taping was going well. He knew she was nervous—as far as he could tell, she’d tried on every single outfit she owned before settling on a simple but classic blue dress.

He’d offered to go with her, and though he could see the temptation in her eyes, she’d ultimately said no. “Colin said he wanted to come, too, and I told him what I’m telling you. I’d be too nervous with you right there.”

He noted that neither Eli nor Lisa had offered to be there. Presumably because Eli—who had hired mercenaries—didn’t agree with either Jane’s or Bill’s thesis any more than Dallas did.

“You don’t need to be babysitting me, anyway,” she continued, unaware of the turn his thoughts had taken. “You have work.”

When he’d told her he could work from the townhouse and have dinner ready when she got back, she’d turned that offer down, too. “I have a surprise planned,” she said with a grin. “But to do it, I have to have workmen in the house.”

He lifted a brow. “A surprise? Involving workmen? Are you replacing your flatscreen TV and upgrading your game system?”

She cocked her head. “You’re thinking along the right lines,” she’d admitted, but refused to tell him anything more.

Finally, she’d told him to come back at nine, and not a minute before. Then she’d smacked him on the ass and told him it was her turn to give the orders.

Fair enough, but he’d have payback tonight.

The thought made him smile more.

“What the hell are you grinning about?” Liam quipped when Dallas answered the video call coming in over the secure channel on his laptop.

“Just having a good day,” he said.

“Oh, really? I’m guessing that means you had a good night.”

“That’s one of the reasons you work for me,” Dallas said. “You’re so damn smart.”

“I’m guessing Jane had a good night, too,” Liam said, then laughed at the scowl Dallas shot him.

“Maybe too damn smart,” Dallas said.

Liam chuckled. “I didn’t call to talk about your torrid romance,” he began, as Dallas shot him the bird. “Wanted to give you a heads-up that we may have caught another case.”

Immediately, Dallas sobered. “Tell me.”

Liam shook his head. “Let me do some follow-up. It’s almost seven.”

“Damn,” Dallas said, realizing he’d lost track of time. He picked up the remote and clicked on his office television. Evening Edge was about to start, and Jane was in the first segment.

“She’s going to kick ass,” Liam said.

“She’s nervous,” Dallas said. “But she will. She grew up a Sykes, just like I did. She may hate media appearances, but she won’t show it to the world.”

What he was more interested in—other than simply watching her there on the screen—was what she had to say. They hadn’t talked a lot about the book she was working on, but he knew enough to know that their views differed. The question was, how much?

Moments later, he had his answer.

She looked amazing on camera, just as he’d known she would. And, yeah, he was so damn proud of how she presented herself with such strength and confidence.

But the words coming out of her mouth—and of her asshole ex-husband’s—sat like heavy stones in his gut.

Names like Benson and Deliverance.

Adjectives like dangerous and illegal.

Ultimatums like needs to be stopped.

Sound bites like dead children and serious injuries.

And each one hit him like a blow.

“Vigilante rescuers,” the host said, leaning forward in one of the casual chairs that made up the set. “It sounds like a Hollywood action movie.”

“Except Hollywood has happy endings. In the real world, innocent people are injured and die in vigilante raids,” Jane said.

“But is that necessarily the fault of these vigilantes?”

“Absolutely it is,” Jane said. “They may look like they’re dressed up in procedure. That they’re investigating crimes and then moving in to catch the bad guys. But it isn’t true.”

She spoke with such passion that it seemed as if she was standing right next to Dallas, and every word twisted inside him.

“The people who run these groups are heartless, vicious monsters,” she said. “The Benson group, Deliverance, and any others that may come to light—they’re not focused on saving lives but on profit. On earning the fee paid by the parent of one specific child—and all the non-paying children are expendable.”

“That’s a strong accusation.”

“It is,” Bill agreed. “And while I’m not authorized to give details, I can say that there is evidence to support what Ms. Martin just said.”

“They need to be stopped,” Jane said, her eyes flashing with heat. “They break law after law in the course of their operations, which negatively impacts the ability of legitimate law enforcement to do their job. More than that, they extract their own justice. And that is simply not a role that civilians should be playing.”

“Not only is it illegal,” Bill said, “but there’s no due process for those they punish.”

“I can only document the facts in my books,” Jane said. “But the work that WORR is doing is essential. People like William Martin and his team are the real heroes. Not these self-important, profiteering rogues.”

“I understand that Benson’s group is in custody?” the host asked.

“That’s correct,” Bill said. “And we’re putting all our resources to locating and shutting down Deliverance.”

“And the sooner the better,” Jane added. “Before another child gets killed.”

Dallas clicked the television off, and as he did, he realized that he’d left the connection to Liam open. He clicked the mouse to clear his screensaver, feeling raw. Feeling numb.

“You were watching, too?”

“Yeah,” Liam said. “Bill’s going to be a problem for us.”

Dallas pressed his fingertips against his temple. As if his marriage to Jane wasn’t enough, now Dallas had one more reason to put Bill Martin on his shit list. “I’m guessing that one of those resources he’s mentioned will be Darcy. They’re going to question him six ways from Sunday.”

“Won’t come back on us,” Liam said.

“No, but I want to talk to him anyway,” Dallas said. “I’m throwing a party next week. He’s coming. We’ll chat.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Right now, though, it’s not Bill or Darcy that concerns me.”

“I know.”

“I have to tell her.” He knew that—and at the same time, he was terrified that it would shatter everything between them. “I have to tell her about Deliverance. What I do. What we do. And I need her to understand that we’re not like Benson. She’d never believe that either of us is only about chasing a dollar.”

“Tell her even part of that, and you’re putting us all at risk.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you really think so?”

His friend sighed heavily. “Are we talking about what I believe? Or what I know? I believe that Jane would never put either of us in danger. But I don’t know that for a fact. What I do know is that you’re the one who put rules in place for Deliverance, and those rules were to protect all of us.”

“I either tell her or I leave her. I can keep a secret from my sister. I can’t keep it from my lover.”

“So that really is where you two are.”

“Yeah,” Dallas said. “That’s where we are.” He tensed, unsure how Liam would react to that bit of news.

“ ’Bout damn time,” Liam said, and Dallas relaxed. “Just think it through before you tell her. I’m not saying don’t—I’m just saying think.”

“I know,” Dallas said. “I will.” He’d also talk it over with the team. Liam was right—the rules were to protect all of them. He could put himself at risk. But he couldn’t do that to the others.

Liam and Quince would understand and roll with whatever he decided, but Noah and Tony were different. They had their own reasons for being part of Deliverance, and Dallas could never break their trust or put them at risk. Not unless they gave the okay. Not unless they understood exactly what might happen if he breathed a word, even to Jane.

Fuck.

Just when he and Jane were finding their way and truly trying to work out this weird, fucked-up relationship, they had to deal with this. As if they didn’t already have enough to deal with between family and secrets and the demons each of them lived with. Not to mention his own particular proclivities—and limitations—where sex was concerned. Now they had to toss social justice and criminology into the mix.

Not that he had expected their differing philosophies to be swept under the rug forever. Frankly, he hadn’t thought much about it at all. But in the back of his mind he’d assumed it would only be an issue if WORR started to get close to Deliverance, something he hadn’t believed was possible.

But this?

Christ, the timing just fucking sucked.

He spent the next half hour trying to take his mind off it. He couldn’t talk with her about it tonight—he had to speak to the team first—which meant that he needed to genuinely congratulate her for doing a great job on television . . . and then casually shift the conversation away from conversation all together.

They’d deal with it—they had to deal with it. Just not tonight.

She’d ordered him back at nine—the memory of her smacking his ass still made him smile, and still conjured all sorts of glorious ideas for retaliation—and he left with five minutes to spare just in case he got held up.

He was turning the corner onto her block when he saw her on the front stoop. There was a man with her—tall, muscular, a little bit familiar—and when Jane raised her cheek to accept a kiss that was accompanied by a quick squeeze to her rear, Dallas just about lost his shit.

He picked up his pace, not sure what he intended to do except possibly smash the asshole’s face in, when said asshole hopped on a Harley and roared past him, his head turning toward Dallas as he did, and his mouth curving into an easy smile.

What the fuck?

“Who the hell was that?” Dallas demanded as he sprinted up the steps to where Jane still stood, smiling as he approached.

Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “Him? Oh, he was just the workman I told you about.” She took his hand. “Come inside. Out here, I have to kiss you like a brother, and that’s really not how I want to kiss you right now.”

Once they were inside, she pressed him against the wall and kissed him so hard and so deep that he almost—almost—forgot that he wanted to ask her why the workman was fondling her rear.

He managed to keep his wits though, and after he congratulated her on an excellent show, and she told him that she’d been nervous but had calmed once the taping started, he slid straight back to the topic of the asshole.

“He’s a friend, and you’re not allowed to be jealous.” She hooked her arm through his. “Come on. I have something to show you.”

“Not allowed to be jealous?”

“Not when it would take a supercomputer to calculate the number of women you’ve been with,” she said, bypassing the main stairs and heading through the kitchen to the set of stairs that descended to the garden level.

“Women I’ve been with?” he repeated. “Are you telling me you’ve been with him?”

She stopped on the stairs. “You’re jealous. I think I like this side of you.”

“Jane.”

“Fine.” She rose up onto her toes and kissed him again. “He was here helping me with the project I told you about. And I promise you, no clothing was shed in the process. Now come on. I want you to see it.”

The stairs opened onto the level where the servants’ quarters used to be located. He hadn’t been down there in years, and for the most part it looked about the same. A narrow hall painted white to make the space brighter despite the minimal natural light. And then rooms on either side, each one opening onto a small, dormitory-style room where the servants used to live back in the days when the house was first built.

His parents had used those rooms for storage.

He and Jane had used them for play.

Dallas had no idea what Jane used the rooms for these days, just as he had no idea why she’d brought him down here now. But they must have reached their destination, because she was standing in front of the very last door on the right, holding the key in her hand and bouncing a little nervously.

“Close your eyes,” she insisted, after leading him right up to the door. “Don’t peek until I say so.”

He did as she said, amused, and then listened as she unlocked the room and pushed the door open. She took his hands and guided him in, and then moved to stand behind him so she could cover his eyes. “Okay, open,” she said and then pulled her hands away with flourish.

Holy fuck.

It was a boudoir. Hell, it was a porn set.

It was a fantasy playroom with everything from leather to silk, chains and ropes, toys and video. And already his mind was going to just what he could do if he had her against that wall with her wrists in those cuffs and a flogger in his hand, her beautiful skin red for him, and her sweet moans making him hard as he took her over the edge, down into that sweet space where pain gave way to pleasure.

And that bed with the deep purple spread and the headboard with all sorts of handy hooks and leather straps. How many times could he make her come? How loud could he make her scream his name?

“Do you like?”

She was still behind him, her hands on his shoulders and her voice tentative.

He took one of her hands and lowered it, pressing against his rock hard erection. “What do you think?”

He could practically feel the worry draining away from her, and she moved around him to stand in the circle of his arms. “I know we’ve talked about it, but I wanted to make sure you know that I mean what I say. Wherever you need to go, I’m there with you. You don’t have to be afraid you’ll push me too far.”

Her words ricocheted through him, humbling him and exciting him. He wanted to believe them. Wanted to believe this would work. That it could be real and true, and that somehow they’d surmount every obstacle.

With a gentle smile, she reached up and cupped his cheek. “You’re thinking too hard. Don’t think. Just know. That you want me. That I want you. And this is right, Dallas. Us. Together. That’s a place we’ve been heading all our lives, and it took us too damn long to get here.”

“When did you do this? How did you do it?”

“Brody—my friend from outside. He came in and worked all day.” She looked down, shrugging a little. “He’s a professional dom so he has the connections to make it happen fast.”

“A professional dom?” A red streak of jealousy cut through him even as her words piqued his interest.

“Don’t even go there,” she said, rising up on her toes to kiss him. “After all the women you’ve been with? The few times I was with Brody—a long, long, long time ago—are not fair game.”

“Fuck that,” he said, and heard the growl in his voice as he grabbed her waist and pulled her close. “Anyone you’ve been with is fair game.”

He could see the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed hard, as excited as he was.

“Don’t you understand?” she whispered. “Don’t you get it? I’ve fucked a lot of men, Dallas. But I’ve never really been with anyone but you. I don’t ever want to be.”

Her words, so tender—so true—wrapped around him. He wanted to pull her close and cover her with kisses. He wanted to make her his in every way possible.

He wanted to touch her. To worship her.

He wanted to claim her.

“The bed,” he said. “We start easy.” He met her eyes. “We won’t stay there.”

She licked her lips, excitement flaring in her eyes. “Yes, sir.” She started toward the bed, then looked back over her shoulder. “Dallas?” She swallowed. “I want you to tie me down. To the bed, I mean.” She licked her lips, and he could practically see the nervous energy coming off her in waves. “Spread-eagled and naked.”

His entire body was tense. He knew that being tied down had terrified her in captivity. “Baby, are you sure? Have you done that before?”

She shook her head. “No. I—no. But I want to.” Her eyes burned into his. “Don’t you see? With you, it’s not fear, it’s desire. It’s trust, Dallas. Trust and love.”

“Oh, baby.” Christ, she melted him. How the hell could this woman melt him so damn easily?

“Dallas?”

“On the bed,” he said. “In the dress.” It was a V-neck style that buttoned up the front from hem to cleavage.

“Oh.”

He almost laughed at her disappointment. “Don’t worry. You’ll be naked soon enough. But getting you there will be my pleasure. You just get on your back, hands above your head.”

She did as told, and when she was stretched out, long and lean, he walked to the headboard and tugged on one of the two leather straps that her friend Brody had so conveniently placed at the top corners of the bed. “Arms above your head,” he ordered, his cock stiffening when, once again, she complied without hesitation.

He bound her wrists, then moved to the foot of the bed and used the straps there to bind her ankles. “I like it,” he said, letting his eyes roam over her, imagining each and every way he was going to touch her. But still, she was bound to a bed, and he couldn’t shake his fear for her. “Are you okay? We need a safe word.”

“No,” she said. “We don’t.” She met his eyes. “You’ll always protect me, remember?”

His cock strained against his jeans, the sweet, honest tenderness in her words doing him in. Tonight, he thought. Surely he could manage to fuck her hard tonight.

“All right,” he said. “No safe word. But there’s still something about this scene that’s not quite how I want it . . .”

He trailed off as he got on the bed and straddled her, then very slowly undid the buttons on her dress. He couldn’t get it off without releasing her, so he simply spread it open—then gasped when he saw the chain around her neck—and the small golden locket that he’d given her for her eleventh birthday.

He took a moment to let the fact that she’d not only kept the locket, but that she’d worn it tonight to sink in. Then he looked at her face—at the heat in her eyes—and returned to the task of undressing her.

The bra clasped in the front, and he opened it as well, spreading it as he had the dress. The panties were a different story, and he used the small knife he kept on his keychain to slice them at the hips, making her cry out with each motion of the blade. He pulled them off, and then cupped her bare pussy with his palm. She trembled beneath him, already swollen. Already wet.

She wanted him, no doubt about it.

More than that, she trusted him. Utterly and completely.

He slid off the bed and stood at the foot, looking down at the woman he adored. The woman he’d loved his entire life.

You’ll always protect me, remember?

It’s trust, Dallas. Trust and love.

She was giving herself to him so completely it humbled him—and if he took what she was offering without telling her the truth about Deliverance, then he really was a monster.

And he couldn’t tell her now. Couldn’t say one word without betraying his men.

Goddammit.

Goddammit all to hell.

Slowly, regretfully, he reached over and released her ankles. Then he walked to the head of the bed and uncuffed her wrists.

“Dallas? What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, because what else could he say? Nothing until he talked to the team.

“Sorry?” She sat up, pulling the bedspread up to cover her. “I love you. Christ, Jane, I love you so much it hurts. But I can’t do this to you. I have to go.”

He didn’t wait for her to answer. He couldn’t even bear to look at her face.

He turned and he left.

And he hated himself every step of the way.