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The Dirty Series 2(4)

By:Amelia Wilde

I shrug. “My father had them installed just before he and my mother got divorced. She liked to moonlight as a baker when she wasn’t attending charity events and fighting with him about how much he liked to party with his friends.”

“Is that where you get it from?”

She’s teasing, but something twists in my chest.

Because the truth is….the truth is…

I pull myself back from the brink. No. Now is not the moment to try and bring that up. The weekend is just beginning. Our relationship is just beginning. It’s going to be fucking crucial not to be too hasty.

“Come on,” I say, tilting my head back toward the main part of the house. “There’s a lot more to see.”

Upstairs, I lead her down the hallway to the master suite—another understatement. There are eleven guest rooms, but the master suite—the rooms I occupy whenever I’m here—includes a massive bedroom, two walk-in closets, a den, and a small study.

“Holy shit,” Quinn says, her voice almost a whisper, as I push the door and it swings open noiselessly on its hinges.

Unlike my apartment, this room is full of personal things.

“So, this is my room.”

“Your room.”

“My rooms.”

Family photos appear on almost every shelf, and the decorator I hired incorporated lot of smaller touches—my college degree, framed, hangs between two bookshelves, the armchair sitting underneath it practically begs you to put your feet up. My books occupy most of the other shelf space.

Something in Quinn’s face shifts as she sees it all, and like a moth drawn to a light, she moves away from me and toward all the things out in front of her in plain sight.

Right away Quinn notices a shelf filled with leather-bound journals at waist level behind the armchair. “Christian,” she says, with a note of wonder in her voice. “Do you keep a diary?”

“I kept journals,” I say, grinning at her, but then the words stick in my throat. What the hell should I say now that won’t give me away? My heart skips, wrenches. Why is it like this? Why is it that one moment I’m fine, enjoying her company, letting this unfold how it’s going to unfold, and then the next minute I’m seized by such a frigid dread that it almost takes my breath away?

You want this.

The thought floats up into my mind. It’s true. I want her. I want all of her. Now, tomorrow, forever.

We just have to get there.



She doesn’t notice when the smile falls away from my face. She’s too busy looking at the first editions of the classics on the rest of the shelves.

“Damn,” she says quietly.

“There’s more in the den, if you’re interested.”

She turns back to me, and flicks the tip of her tongue out to lick her lips. “You know,” she says, “I seem to remember Robert saying Rosemary would be up in an hour. How long do we have left?”

I glance down at my watch. “Fifteen minutes.”

Quinn’s hands are already working at the straps of her tank top, pulling it over her head. She is insatiable.

The bedroom is down a narrow hallway, tucked away in the back of the suite. In two steps I’m next to her, my arm around her waist, and as she’s unhooking the clasp of her bra and tugging it off, I’m leading Quinn to my massive bed.

When she sees the king-size masterpiece, impeccably made up, she gives a little sigh of pleasure. “It’s impressive,” she comments, then turns and starts to unbutton my shirt. “But not as impressive as you.”

Chapter Thirty-One


What happens on Christian’s bed can’t be described as making love. It’s a quick and dirty fuck, with me on top, but we have a lot more room than we did in the Town Car.

When we’ve finished, I sprawl out on the bed and wait for my heart rate to quiet down and my breathing to slow.

“That…was incredible.”

“It’s always incredible with you.”

I roll over and kiss his cheek. “You’re too sweet.”

“I was thinking about something in the car.”


He turns on his side to look into my eyes, and I mirror him. In this moment, at least, I don’t see a flicker of doubt.

“We need to come up with a title for what we are.”

My heart skips a beat, then it speeds up. Are we really going to talk about this now?

“Like, Lord and Lady Pierce?” I say, letting out a nervous laugh. I didn’t know how badly I wanted Christian to bring this up until he did, and now that he has, I’m for some reason afraid that the moment will slip away.

He grins at me. “If you want. But my thoughts were more along the lines of…introducing you as my girlfriend.”