DirtyBeautiful Read online

  Dirty Beautiful

  Jodie Becker

  Disillusioned by love, Erica has tasted the bitter pill of betrayal and wonders if she’s enough for one man. When a hot guy moves in next door, Erica decides to settle for good old-fashioned lust. What starts out as a simple seduction quickly evolves, and Erica is fast finding out Dylan is dangerous not only to her libido, but her heart as well.

  Recently retired from the adult-film industry, Dylan hopes for a fresh start in Templeton where his porn persona, Drake Van Wulf, is unknown. His new neighbor is unlike the women he’s accustomed to, but she stirs his blood nonetheless. His rule not to get involved is quickly tested by Erica and her lush curves. Unable to withstand her allure, Dylan finds himself wanting more from Erica than just her body. He wants her heart also.

  With the secret of his past hanging in the shadows, Dylan’s about to find out if love truly conquers all.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Dirty Beautiful

  ISBN 9781419936883

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Dirty Beautiful Copyright © 2011 Jodie Becker

  Edited by Grace Bradley

  Cover design by Mina Carter

  Photography: iStockphoto.com

  Electronic book publication November 2011

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  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 the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  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 publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.

  The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  DIRTY BEAUTIFUL

  Jodie Becker

  Chapter One

  The three-bedroom cottage was a far cry from the condo Dylan owned—a fixer-upper in need of some serious work, but something he wanted to throw himself into. The vehicle he acquired only a week ago boasted of a man with a modest income, a small purchase that made him uncommonly happy. Pulling into the drive, he cut off the engine and smiled. Today heralded the first day of his normal life. His cell phone buzzed and he picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Dylan, it’s Vane.”

  Dylan’s brief moment of pure joy circled the drain as his fingers tightened over the car wheel. “How’d you get this number?”

  “It doesn’t matter—”

  “It does. I only gave this number to a few select people and you weren’t one of them.”

  “Look, I know we have our different points of view on what you are doing, but I really think you should reconsider.”

  The tension that rode him for the last couple of years returned with a vengeance and curdled in his stomach. “I’m not interested. I’m done in the industry. I just want a normal life now.”

  Vane made a sound of disbelief. “You’re never going to be done. You think that because you stop working that people won’t recognize you? Wherever you are, I guarantee you that someone has seen your work.”

  Dylan cast his attention over the suburban spread in the small town. Although far removed from Los Angeles, he held little doubt no one had heard of Drake Van Wulf. “I’m not doing adult films anymore.”

  “You want to give up all that money for what? Your moral compass? Please, more than half the population watches porn. And if this was such a bum deal, why the hell is it a billion-dollar industry?”

  Dylan had heard this argument before, but after nine years of fucking pussy as a career, he was done. Done with mindless sex. He wanted substance in his life and he knew Dungeon Films couldn’t provide that for him.

  Mistaking his silence as his cue, Vane pushed on. “Look, I have a new treatment and I was thinking—”

  Dylan hung up, his fist clenched around the cell. Stress tightened his chest and he pounded the dashboard in a bout of pent-up rage. God damn it. He didn’t need this shit. He blew out an angry breath and punched in a number. The familiar husky voice answered, the vestiges of broken sleep vibrated through her tone. “’Lo.”

  “Ruby, it’s me, Dylan.”

  “Dylan?” Instantly awake, her voice grew clearer. “How are you?”

  “Did you give Vane my new number?”

  “Uh, no.”

  He detected the slight hesitation and knew she lied. “God damn it, Ruby. I didn’t want him to call me.”

  “I don’t see what the big deal is. So he called, so what?”

  Dylan imagined her pouting, a seductive look she used so well. “So, I don’t want to be hounded about coming back, that’s what.”

  “You’re not coming back?” Ruby’s voice had gotten smaller and he regretted his harsh words. They’d been an item once, a move both foolish and desperate. After six months he’d realized his mistake. It was hard for him to leave work at work and the guilt of “cheating” on her despite their understanding ultimately led to the breakdown of their relationship. It’d been two years since they’d slept together outside the profession and he often wondered if having sex with her at work had sent mixed messages.

  “No,” he said wearily. “I’m not.”

  “You didn’t tell me that! You just up and leave without telling me it’s for good? After all we’ve been through together.”

  Dylan wiped a hand down his face. “Look, I didn’t want to do it anymore and I didn’t think it was worth talking about.”

  “That’s why we broke up, Dylan. You never talk about it.”

  Ah shit. Here it was, another fight over their failed relationship. “Ruby, you know I’m not built that way. I couldn’t fuck other women and be okay with that. My mom would’ve been ashamed of me if she knew.”

  “But not ashamed enough to take your money?”

  Ice prickled down his back. “God damn you.”

  Dylan hung up before he said something he’d regret. Sucking air through his nose, he tried to rein in the onset of rage, but it tainted the cab with its presence. He started a career in adult films as a desperate attempt to save his mother. Without insurance, his mother needed money for medical bills and he couldn’t give that to her on an apprentice’s salary. So he found other means.

  Unwilling to take another foray into the past, he threw open the door and slammed it shut with a curse. Trees lining the pathway rustled with the onset of autumn, brown and orange leaves fluttering to the ground. He knew on some level the past would come back and remind him that he wasn’t free, but he’d hoped it would have been later rather than sooner.

  He’d quit two weeks ago, but he’d set into motion his exodus long before that. Perhaps it was a bit abrupt for Vane, but he’d hoped his former boss understood. He
guessed not. Shoving his irritation aside, he stomped up the steps and paused on the worn porch. Wood creaked underfoot and he focused on the subject at hand. The notion to fix up a less-than-ideal house didn’t come on a whim. It had once been a career and now his only salvation.

  * * * * *

  Erica knew she shouldn’t perv on people, but she couldn’t help herself. Her new neighbor was sex on a stick. He hammered down a new plank of wood into the porch and she bit her lip as muscles rippled in his back and arm. He stood and Erica automatically eased back behind the lace curtains in hopes he wouldn’t notice he had a voyeur. He ambled over to his pickup and hefted another plank onto his shoulder. Lord have mercy! Despite the cool air, the man had long since abandoned his shirt. A consequence she was very grateful for.

  Erica sipped her tea and devoured the sight of the six-foot golden giant. She pondered on the color of his eyes. She’d always been partial to strong men, and he met the qualification in spades. With a shaggy ash-blond mane and a catlike grace, he literally screamed “alpha male”. She shivered as heat settled in the depths of her womb. What’d she do to get such a hot neighbor?

  The phone rang and she jumped, lukewarm tea sloshing over her hand. Abandoning her view, she snatched up the cordless phone in her living room. “Hello?”

  “Erica, did you hear? Someone has moved into old man Samuel’s house.”

  Erica rolled her eyes. She should’ve known Tammy would be the first to tell her what she deemed “news”. “Of course I know, he is my neighbor after all.”

  There was a moment of pause. “So you’ve seen him?”

  “Yes.” She took several steps back until she had him within eyeshot. “I’m looking at him right now.”

  “Jessica served him at the hardware store this morning. Said he’s good-looking, but you know how hit and miss her taste in men is. So is he?”

  Erica fingered the curtain aside to gain a better peek at her mysterious neighbor. He pressed his denim-clad knee against the timber and shivered as the jeans tightened around his impressive ass. “Oh yeah.”

  “Oh my God, Mary-Mae is going to have a fit!”

  Erica grimaced and dropped the curtain as she straightened. Former prom queen and recently divorced, Mary-Mae returned to Templeton. Her constant complaint for lack of interesting men was a grinding stone for Erica. Most of the single and married men in Templeton all but drooled when she walked by in her fancy outfits holding her teacup Pomeranian. The woman looked far more suited to Rodeo Drive than Main Street. In fact, Erica often wondered why she ever returned to a little town in Georgia.

  “You should go over there and check him out.”

  “He isn’t some statue on display, Tammy. Besides, he’s busy fixing up the house.”

  “Ooh, a handyman. All the more reason to go over there. Besides, before long Mary-Mae is going to be over there sinking her claws into that fresh piece of man-meat. Wouldn’t you want to get first dibs?”

  It was no secret Erica didn’t bear a great friendship with Mary-Mae. Her high-school days consisted of cruel diatribe and tears. Even now she could hear Mary-Mae and her clique’s hateful jibes. For some reason, Mary-Mae had made it her goal to make Erica’s life hell. The day Mary-Mae left town, Erica celebrated with gusto, but now that she was back the old high school rivalry returned. Besides, Mary-Mae would suck the life out of the only interesting man to hit the town since Jackson Moyer. Sure, at the time Jackson was a young doctor on sabbatical, but Mary-Mae fell on him like a python, squeezing him until he caved.

  “I should, shouldn’t I? After all, it’s my neighborly duty to welcome him to the town.” She eyed his sweat-soaked body with a level of interest. “Besides, he looks like he could use a drink.”

  “You go, girl!”

  “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  After saying goodbye, Erica marched up the stairs to her bedroom just off the sitting room. Like quite a few homes in the area, the house was purchased from a DIY Sears catalog, which her grandfather and many others of his generation used to build their own American Dream. It was a cute and compact house, painted in bright colors her grandmother had liked. She pulled off her sweatpants and threw them onto her antique iron bed. Shuffling around the bed, she found a white gypsy skirt and dark-green shirt with a deep décolleté. She eyed herself in the full-length mirror and twisted from side to side. Hmm, casual enough to seem like she rambled around the house in it, but sophisticated enough to show her assets. A few bangles to draw attention to her manicured nails and long fingers, and a nice chunky necklace to highlight her cleavage completed the look.

  She hummed a jazz number as she returned downstairs to the kitchen and poured a glass of homemade lemonade and pulled out her stash of brownies from the fridge. What man didn’t like chocolate? Floral plate in hand, she exited through the front door and cut across her lawn onto his.

  His dark-blue Ford pickup glistened in the mid-morning sun, her warped image glided across the immaculately clean vehicle. The classic rock that blared from the stereo on the windowsill was blasted by the screaming saw. Erica picked her way through chips of wood and stopped several feet from her new neighbor’s back. He wore red ear-mufflers, a sound investment as he cut through yet another plank of wood. Erica grimaced at the painful screech, but held her ground. Finally, the saw wound down and she cleared her throat. “Excuse me.”

  The man flicked off some sawdust and smoothed his hand almost lovingly over the surface.

  “Excuse me,” she said louder.

  He straightened and Erica was caught by piercing blue eyes. “Oh sorry,” he mumbled and removed his earmuffs and safety glasses.

  “Hi, I’m Erica, your new neighbor.”

  He put his saw on the ground and thrust out a hand. “Dylan.”

  Erica considered juggling her plate to grasp his hand but abandoned the idea, instead holding out the glass of lemonade for him to take. “With all that work you’ve been doing this morning I thought you’d be thirsty.”

  His gaze swept her full figure and hovered ever so briefly over her breasts before they leveled with her eyes. To say she was offended by his blatant stare would be a lie. After all, she’d done a fair bit of peeking herself. A grin cocked one side of his mouth and he accepted the beverage. Watching her with an almost sensual gleam, he knocked back the drink.

  He handed her the glass and Erica held out her homemade brownies.

  He accepted a piece and bit into it. “Mm, delicious,” he said around a second mouthful.

  Erica beamed. “Thanks. Family recipe.”

  Golden brows tipped up. “You made it? You should sell these brownies. I’d certainly buy a lot.”

  “Sorry, it’s my only method of bribery around here. It’s my plan to take over the world one brownie at a time.”

  He chuckled. “Sneaky.”

  She slanted her head to the side. “No, I would think of it as forward thinking. I believe all of the world’s problems could be solved by chocolate.”

  He popped the last morsel in his mouth and chewed almost thoughtfully. “Maybe so. But I think you’ll need a lot of milk to go with it too.”

  Erica giggled, amazed at the instant chemistry that surrounded them. “I guess so.”

  Raunch’s classic rock song Love Rodeo cut through the lull and Erica felt the measure of his stare. Erica shuffled on her feet and licked her lips. What did he see? She wiped at a stray lock of red hair that tickled her cheek and sought to fill in the silence. “This house was on the market for a long time. I have to say that a few kids are going to be disappointed to know you’re doing it up.”

  He blinked slowly and folded his arms over his ripped torso. “Is that so?”

  “Everyone knows that it’s haunted. But if you do it up, you’re sure to chase out all the ghosts. It’s a rule you see, for ghosts and ghouls to inhabit only creaky old houses.”

  He smiled. “I’m the regular ghost-buster I suppose. I take it you’ve lived here a while.”

  She indicated i
n the general direction of her yellow house. “All my life.”

  He nodded as though to file away the information for later use.

  “I could show you around the town if you like.”

  He eyed her at length and she prepared for the onset of a soft rejection. Erica forced a friendly smile, waiting for the blow.

  “Maybe some other time.”

  And there it was. She inclined her head. “Well, I guess I better leave you to your exorcism.” She waved a hand at his reworked porch. “If you need anything, feel free to knock on my door.”

  “I will.”

  The smile fell from her mouth as she twisted around and hurried back to her house. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now she had to think of ways to avoid her hot-as-hell neighbor.

  * * * * *

  The sun had long since set, and Dylan sat on his back porch. The cool night air touched his skin as he listened to the crickets sing to the moon. A contentedness stole over him and he sipped his beer. His body ached from good hard labor, but he’d finished the front porch late this afternoon. It filled him with a sense of accomplishment and pride that he was almost reluctant to cease work once the sun went down. But town restrictions would’ve prevented him from banging and sawing through the evening.

  He made a mental note of the level of work needed for the next day. He’d already lifted the carpet yesterday, which removed much of the musty scent in the house, but it left the unvarnished wood exposed. That left him to treat, varnish and polish the sucker and he’d no doubt it’d be a pain-in-the-ass job. He shrugged it off. At least it’d get his mind off jerking off every ten seconds.

  He knocked back another mouthful and surveyed his backyard. Landscaping had to be last on his list as he knew next to nothing about plants. His yard remained mostly bare save for a blueberry tree fast losing all its leaves. His gaze drifted over the landscaped garden next door. The smell of roses filled the night and he appreciated the fresh air that’d long been absent in his life.