Dirty Deeds (Get Dirty #3)

“Oh, stop it!” I laugh. “He’s not here.” I grin, deciding to turn the tables on Hannah. “Speaking of getting hot and heavy, did you get down with Nathan?”

Hannah closes my closet, turning to look at me like I’m crazy. “You must be out of your damn mind. He’s cute and all, but he’s not my type.”

“Mmmhmm,” I say, unconvinced. “I don’t know, you were giving him a few looks like you were more than ready to ride his pony.”

Hannah growls. “I’m gonna kill you.” She starts toward the bed, then stops, nodding at my notebook. “What were you doing, anyway?”

“Writing a song.”

Hannah gawks in surprise. “A song? Now I know something’s really going on. It’s Jake, isn’t it? He’s got you seeing stars.”

“No,” I reply, even as I blush. I’m a terrible liar when it comes to Hannah.

“Come on, spill it. No teasing, no bullshit.”

I look at Hannah, who’s got her arms crossed, then roll my eyes. “Okay, maybe he is the reason, but singing at the club last night awakened something in me that I didn’t think was there anymore. Something I buried, and I want to find it again.”

I expect Hannah to laugh at me, to call me silly or something. Instead, she bites her lip then gives me a sad smile. “Okay, babe. If you need it, then I’ve got your back. Just . . .”

“What?”

Hannah sighs. “Don’t fall in love with Jake, okay? I could see it in your eyes, in the way you performed. You weren’t there for the crowd. You were cock teasing him and loving it. But more than that . . . I saw the way you looked at him. Just, be careful.”

“I am,” I reply, and Hannah sighs again. “What?”

“Nothing. I’ve got your back.”

I bite my lip. “I know.”



At work the following Monday, I try to avoid Jake whenever I can. I don’t know why I’m doing it. I want to see him. I want to talk to him. I want to be with him.

Even though I try not to, I find myself stealing glances at him when he’s in his office. As he talks, as he gestures, everything he does, he’s sexy. He commands the room like he owns it. His confidence is pure arousal, and I can’t help but rub my thighs together as I try to get work done.

Also, I can't get the song out of my head, and I find myself scribbling lyrics whenever Jake is around. Not all of them fit in this song, but there are some that do.

“Keeping a diary over there?” Matt asks out of the blue while I’m in the midst of trying to write the song instead of working.

“What’s it to you?” I growl, snapping the notebook closed.

“You keep looking off into space lately, scribbling in that book. Got someone on your mind?” He raises his eyebrows toward Jake’s office, and it unsettles me. I’m sure he’s just fishing. How the hell could he know anything?

“Why don’t you mind your own damn business?”

Matt walks away, grumbling under his breath about moody bitches, and I’m pissed off. But more importantly, I’m wondering if he’s actually picked up on something. If he has, other people probably have also.

After lunch, I get up and go knock on Jake’s door. Elena’s still out at lunch, but Jake just came back from downstairs, and if I’m going to have any private moments with him, this is the time.

“Come in!”

I step inside, closing the door quietly behind me. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says back, giving me a smile that makes the warmth between my legs rise to a deep burn. I do my best to reserve myself, but it’s hard. He looks so handsome with his tie loosened and his hair ruffled from a fresh shower. He just finished his lunchtime workout. Watching his biceps flex as he fixes his shirt and tie, I remember how his lips and hands felt all over my body. The tension is so thick, I want to run and jump into his arms, sweep the stuff off his desk, and have him take me right here on top of his blotter.

I blink, clearing my mind. I’m about to tell him that what happened in the elevator and later when we got down and dirty was a fluke, that it can’t happen again. Suddenly, he grins, holding up a hand. “Wait, I can see what’s in your eyes, and I’ll let you tell me, but first . . . I have a proposition for you.”

“What?” I ask, hoping and also not hoping it’s for me to get on my knees under his desk. Because I just might do it if he asks.

“Nathan’s been going gaga all weekend, and I have too. We want to put you as a drawing act. One night on the weekends. You said you love to sing. The pay would be good. Not better than here, but it’s only one night a week.”

I stand in shock. I hadn't expected something like this. Sexual? Sure. But to sing . . . “Oh, my God.”

“The people loved you. Nathan and I were shocked by how many people requested for you to come back. Seriously, you should see the club’s Facebook page. There’s over three hundred likes to someone requesting that you sing some more. They want you.”

His eyes gleam, seeming to say, And I want you too.

I breathe, still stunned. The tune of the song I’ve begun writing for him hums in my head. Staring at his face, I realize I can’t say no to him. I’m weak in the knees. But I also don’t know if I should say yes.

“Well?” he says, taking his seat behind his desk and giving me that same smile. “I know you want this.”

I stand there, leaning against his office door, uncertain. The fact is, music to me is like an addiction. It was so hard to walk away from it last time. I spent weeks unable to sleep on Fridays and Saturdays because those were my performance nights. I still wake up sometimes with a little voice inside me wondering where the stage is, where the crowds are.

If I do this, I don’t want that to happen again. Jake doesn’t know what he’s asking for. I’ll have to train again. Vocal exercises, getting my body back in shape to maintain the high energy performances that I have to do . . . wardrobe, practicing lyrics, all of it. How’s it going to affect my work?

I tried the club scene before, and it went nowhere but having one club love me. This can’t be much different. Sure, I’m excited right at this moment, and yeah, Club Jasmine loved me Friday night, but once people got used to me, it would die down. I’d be right back to being a local act and that’s it.

Still, maybe it’s enough. The idea of singing, of being on stage . . . even if it’s not my name selling out big shows, it feeds a piece of my heart. When I sing, I put my soul out there, vulnerable and excited to see if the audience will respond with cheers. And I can see Jake genuinely wants me to do it. Damn me, there’s a part of me that wants to please him, too. Finally, I take a deep breath and look into his expectant eyes.

“I’ll think about it.”





Jake


I hate the smell of cigar smoke. Sure, it’s got the whole alpha male mystique attached to it, but damn if most cigars don’t smell like burning dirty undershirts.

Tell that to Nathan, though. “We’re looking at recouping our investment and turning a working profit within six months,” Nathan says over a haze of his cigar smoke. Thank God we’re up here where nobody except security is allowed and the air conditioners can deal with his disgusting habit.

“Show me the money,” I say, sitting back and rubbing my hands in relief that this is going well. I was half-expecting for us to fall flat on our faces. I knew the market. So many clubs fail. But everything is turning out better than I dreamed.

“We’re killing it, Jake!” Nathan says, grinning while sipping on some champagne, “And with karaoke night being a success, I think we should adopt it regularly. By the way, did your girl say yes about doing weekends?”

My girl. The thought is strange, but I like the sound of it. After I tasted her, after I filled her up and carried her to bed, I know that Nathan’s right. Even now, I can’t stop thinking about her.

“She said she would think about it.” I don't point out that she isn’t my girl. She will be soon enough.

“Think about it?” Nathan asks, surprised. “Didn’t you say she was crazy about singing? What gives?”