The Dirty Secret Read Online Free PDF Page B

you don’t want to tap that?”
    “I’m not going to jeopardize my job with a work hookup,” he said, the same response he’d given Bengt when his friend had told him to “bang that like a brass gong.” He didn’t have time for a fling, much less a place to take a girl. And Starla still lived at home with her parents.
    “Why would it? Nothing in the employee handbook that says you can’t,” Seth said. “You’re not her supervisor.”
    “Things could get weird at the office,” he said, watching the dancers across the room. More couples had joined them. “I’ve got enough to deal with as it is.”
    “I can’t believe you’re not going for it.” Deb poured from the new pitcher. “I’d love to just turn her over my knee and spank her until she couldn’t sit down for a week.”
    Seth choked on his beer, and Killian swallowed half his pint to clear the images he didn’t want to think about—Star did have a nice ass—and shook his head.
    “What?” Deb said. “I’m not her supervisor. She’d be into it, too. I bet she even has panties with days of the week on them.”
    His plate came, heaped with fries, and after the food and another beer, Killian felt human again. The next time Starla waggled her fingers at him, he followed her to the dance floor, out of excuses when Bengt said, “Your turn, Killer.”
    The song had a bump-and-grind bass, and she worked her hips and her ass as she moved, catching his eye when she shimmied. It was a rush, dancing with the best-looking girl in the room, the envy of every guy in the place. Usually Bengt got all the attention.
    Starla touched his waist as she twirled around him, and when she moved close, eyes shut, his mind slipped back to yesterday and the girl with darker brows and no lipstick. He’d babbled something inane at her about being twins.
    He couldn’t imagine two of her, either. There would be too much to look at, with her pretty curves and paint box hair. And those wide eyes, shining with all that glittery stuff as she said his house was clever, before she’d known it was his design. Upstairs, her dress had moved with her, swirling above her knees as she turned. She’d been so female, so perfect.
    “Hello,” Starla said, sidling closer as the music changed. She turned, leaning back into him, riding his thigh, ass sliding. “I was wondering when you would notice me.”
    She ran her hand down his hip, and Killian damned his cock, too dumb to realize his inebriated thoughts were of another girl. The music blared around him, and he caught Starla’s hand before it inched nearer his crotch, spinning her by the fingertips to keep her at a distance. When the song was over, he led her back to the table, ignoring Deb’s snort of laugher.
    “That was fun,” Starla said, “but I’m getting a bit tipsy.”
    “We should really go rescue Seth,” Bengt said, pointing. The builder was dancing with two women and a beer pitcher, and the pitcher was leading all three in a dance that deserved an accordion and suspenders.
    “I could use a smoke,” Deb said.
    The waitress brought them the check, and they shepherded Seth outside for some fresh air. He helped Bengt decipher the name and number a girl had written on his coaster, while Starla called a cab. Killian followed her outside to wait for it.
    She leaned back against the streetlight, her eyes drifting to his mouth with invitation. He was tempted—it had been so long since he’d kissed a girl—but common sense won the brief battle with his two-over-the-legal-limit libido.
    “Why don’t you have a girlfriend, Killian?” Starla asked.
    “Because, as she put it, I was much more interested in building a future with Bergman than with her.” He chuckled. Two years and the beer had numbed the sting of getting dumped. “She wasn’t wrong.”
    “What about that girl Bengt set you up with from the state highway project? Didn’t you go out with her?”
    “Well, Bergman decided to submit plans six hours