Dirty Deeds by Stella Rhys

10

ALY

It was barelynoon but I let Evie make me a stronger-than-usual Bloody Mary to drink in the office.

Because I was a fucking wreck.

I had never hated myself while masturbating, but that was what I did last night after seeing Emmett naked – especially since I imagined him doing the same in his room down the hall.

Out of guilt, I eventually turned to porn. But while the guys in those videos once looked good to me, they did zilch for me last night. I felt nothing. Not after seeing Emmett Hoult in all his rock-hard, full-frontal, nine-inch glory.

His image was burned into my mind and worse, I’d used it to come three times before bed last night.

On the bright side, I’d passed out and slept like a champ.

On the not so bright side, that meant climaxing to the thought of Emmett was just as good if not better than having actual sex with another human.

And that only made me think about how good he had to be in bed.

“Unless you want this right now you better fucking turn around and go to your room.”

Every mental replay of his words sent a new shiver up my spine. I kept imagining scenarios in which I hadn’t gone to my room. I kept wondering what Emmett would’ve done to me if I’d just stepped inside, and those fantasies had my panties so wet and uncomfortable that Evie actually volunteered to hold down the fort at the restaurant while I went to buy new ones.

But instead, I opted for the Bloody Mary.

“Okay.” Evie eyed me warily as I took the drink from her and held it in both hands like a child, staring into space as I sipped on it. “You do look miserable enough that I’m going to spare you of like, eighty percent of the filthy questions I want to ask right now, because I know you don’t want to hear it.”

I nodded catatonically, still sucking down my drink.

“So, here’s the deal. You have two options here, okay?” she started, sitting authoritatively in her chair. “One – you stop getting in your head and just fuck Emmett already. You know you want to, he knows you want to, so just leave the past in the past and let the man make it up to you in orgasms. Right?”

I winced.

“Wrong. Even if I were able to miraculously forget the past and sleep with him, we’d still have to consider that it could get awkward or complicated between us, which could result in me having to move out, which we are still very much trying to avoid because how are you and Mike by the way?”

“We fooled around last night but when I touched his dick, he put my hand back in my lap. At which point my soul died and we started fighting,” Evie sighed, letting me take her hand and squeeze it. “So yeah, point taken. No fucking Emmett and no sex for either of us. Yippee,” she muttered. But in the same breath she gasped. “Wait. What the hell am I talking about? Just because you can’t fuck Emmett doesn’t mean you can’t fuck any of the other babes in town!”

“Yeah, but we’ve been over this,” I mumbled. “I’m not hitting the club again, I don’t trust Tinder and I’m not going to date any of our ‘cute regulars’ because that looks unprofessional.”

“So what, we just have to pray that some miracle hottie just lands in your lap?” Evie asked incredulously.

Before I could answer, one of our waitresses barged in.

“Holy shit!” Evie yelped.

“Hannah! What’s up?” I asked, surprised that she’d come in without knocking.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah blurted, her eyes wild as she talked faster than usual. “I just – there’s a guy outside asking for you, Aly.”

My eyes fluttered. “Who?”

“I don’t know his name. I just know that he’s really hot and a bunch of paparazzi followed him here. They’re taking pictures through the window.”

“What?”

Jumping up, Evie and I followed Hannah outside and upon spotting said gentleman sitting at my raw bar, I gasped.

Holy what.

I knew exactly who he was, but I couldn’t believe it. And as my feet floated toward him, I couldn’t help but stare.

He was tall. Built. Huge. He had dark blond hair and light green eyes I was used to seeing under the bill of an Empires cap. Without his uniform, he looked exactly as he looked on TV, but I was still in denial.

I told myself I was just wasted off that Bloody Mary. I refused to believe it could really be him.

But then he held out his hand to me and spoke in that famously cocky low voice.

“Aly, right?” he said. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Drew Maddox.”