Dirty Girl: Part Two: The Velvet Rope, #2

By Allie Cooke

5 STARS "Look, I don't know what this series is about. I don't know where this story is going. I don't know much about the characters. I don't know what their motivations are.
What I do know is this:
THIS BOOK IS F***- HOT!" - Sybil/PopKitty Book Reviews

4 DIRTY SMUTTY STARS - "Yes, I am a pathetic romantic nerd. Yes I live for love stories. Yes I am a Happy Endings freak. And then I opened this book....."  -Goodreads Reviewer

"Holy Crap! This book definitely lived up to its name...When is the next book??? I need it now!" Tammi/AuthorGroupies

5 ***** STARS"WTH has this author done to me??? Boone, just Boone. I want one!!!!" - Reviews from the Heart

"...what the h*ll did I just read?" - Megan/Escape Into A Book

Angus Boone is the devil. 
He lured me in, but not with candy or treats. And like the devil, he saw what no one else did. All of my sins...all of the stains on my soul. And then he smiled. 
I should have run...far far away. Instead I made a deal that changed us both forever. 

***This is part two of a three-part serial*** 

Head's Up: This is an erotic romance with a heroine who knows her own mind, lots of adult content, graphic sexual situations, and harsh language. Intended for readers 18 + only. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Allie Cooke, Author
• Release date: Apr 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781519939524

Book preview

DIRTY GIRL- PART TWO

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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DIRTY GIRL

Copyright © 2016 Allie Cooke

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COVER PHOTOGRAPHY

Lauren Perry

PerryWinkle Photography

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COVER DESIGN

Marisa-rose Shor

Cover Me Darling

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. The author does acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The author does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for third-party Websites or their content.

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from author.

This book is licensed for your personal use only. No part of this work may be sold, manipulated, or reproduced in any format without express written permission from the author, except for brief quotations embodied in or reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors' rights. Purchase only authorized editions

BOONE

The drive home was long and silent. I didn’t even turn on the radio for noise. Didn’t need to. There was plenty of noise in my head. Mostly, me mentally cussing over how badly things had gone. Jeff would think it was hilarious. After he got over being pissed at me for taking her to Adrian’s club. That was too close to home. I’d known it when I brought her there, but I’d been desperate and I hadn’t believed that stupid girl would let things go as far she had. Had she even understood what I’d been trying to tell her?

Hell, I hadn’t even been certain she’d show up once she found out what The Velvet Rope was, but she had. I should have known better.

I stopped in the kitchen to grab the bottle of tequila from the freezer and a glass, then set the glass back in the cabinet. Eric also didn’t hold with drinking booze straight from the bottle. I smirked as I did it anyway, leaning on the chilly, marble-topped island. If it hadn’t been so late and if I hadn’t been so tired, I would’ve taken a swim. As it was, I’d had my leg on way too long.

As I walked through each room, the bottle of tequila clutched in my hand, the lights brightened and then dimmed behind me. That had been Huey’s contribution along with the extra wide hallways and doorways for when I needed to use my wheelchair. The house was a modern miracle and worth every penny I’d spent on it.

The furnishings were all Eric. Jeff’s little brother was our resident guide for all things hip, cool, and fashionable...or what the fuck ever. I wasn’t picky. I would’ve been happy with a queen size bed, a big-screen TV, a couple comfortable chairs, and a couch in some shade of brown that wouldn’t show a lot of dirt.

Eric had had a fit when I suggested brown anything.

Jeff had laughed his ass off.

Huey had taken a pencil and paper and made it all work while Deon had kept us in beer and dirty jokes while we made it happen.

I stood at the glass-sliding door staring out at the now-dark pool and sipping ice-cold tequila. She’d been like a kid in a fucking candy store.

Shit!

CHARITY

Thank God it was Sunday. I stretched a thousand, tiny, aching muscles and stared up at the ceiling. Mal lay next to me, staring at me through narrowed eyes and kneading his claws into the thick comforter. At some point I’d have to get up and feed him, but for now, I kept playing and replaying last night over and over in my head.

I turned to look at Mal and caught a whiff of Boone’s cologne on my skin. My eyes fluttered shut as the memory hit me: my arms around his neck, the smell of his cologne and sweat, the solid feel of his shoulder muscles under my fingers, some man’s dick pumping in and out of me while Boone held me in place and watched, his hands fisted into my hair while my toes had curled with every orgasm. Moaning, screaming, sweating.

Boone whispering, You can stop this whenever you want. Except I hadn’t wanted to.

Even now the memories made me squeeze my thighs together. I had seriously made a deal with the Devil. And I’d liked it. Maybe it hadn’t been Boone fucking me, but it had been Boone. He was the instigator. He’d started all this when he slid his hand up my skirt in that bar. He’d been the one in control, and I just let him.

The bigger question? What happened next? Because I hadn’t wanted to stop last night and that seemed like kind of a problem. It was Boone who’d stopped, finally complaining that his legs ached. So had mine.

Once again, he’d grabbed up my dress, and shoes, and silently led me inside, away from the small crowd that had assembled. We’d stretched out on a bed in some private room he’d found. I was sweating and shaking, barely able to stand on my own two feet as I came down from the most incredible high of my life. Boone hadn’t said a word, just made me drink a bunch of water and then let me take a nap.

We’d left the club around four that morning after I’d spent twenty minutes assuring Boone that I could drive myself home and didn’t need him to drive me. He hadn’t even kissed me goodbye. Just scowled at me in that way he did where I had no idea what he was thinking.

So I’d taken a deep breath, raised my chin, and firmly said, I’m fine.

I’d driven home on autopilot and fallen into bed, too tired to even shower. Now here I lay trying to figure it all out. Because yeah, okay, apparently I wasn’t the only freak on the planet. Woohoo!

Not that I hadn’t searched the Internet for bathroom sex, but most of it seemed related to gay men or dream interpretations. Not hetero women who picked up strangers and seemed to get off on the smell of Lysol. Not hetero women who’d apparently progressed to...wherever and whatever the hell I was now.

And what the fuck did I do now?

What the fuck did I do about Boone?

It wasn’t like I had anyone to talk to or ask. Jesus! The thought of asking the girls at work for advice about someone like him made me laugh out loud at the ceiling and finally pushed me out of bed.

After a long, hot shower, I fed Mal, dried my hair, slathered moisturizer everywhere, and then scrambled some eggs. I sat on the back porch, wearing nothing but my robe. While Mal rolled around on the concrete, I ate my breakfast and replayed the previous night’s events in my head—again.

To my surprise, Boone had never tried to fuck me. Matter of fact, he never even unzipped his pants.

I will admit to being disappointed.

Going back to work on Monday felt almost surreal, and I took a harder look at my clients. For that matter, I took a