Reading Online Novel

Bad Behavior(6)



Woodhall waved to the bartender. "Give the lady another."

"Thanks, Wood." I stood. "Ladies' room. I'll be back."

I turned toward the dark rear of the bar and saw a man moving to sit next to Wood. He wasn't looking right at me, but I could sense he was giving me the once-over with his peripherals. Interesting.

"Hey, Wood, who's your friend?" I had to pee and it only got worse when I stood, but the tall piece of sex in a suit demanded my attention.

"Oh, no, you don't." Wood slapped his glass down. "Stay away from this one, Lincoln. She's a man-eater."

A deep laugh rolled from the stranger-Lincoln-and he turned to give me a full lookover. I gave it right back. Tall, long legs, large hands, dark green eyes, chocolate brown hair. He had a sexy smile. His even white teeth would make perfect crescents on my skin. A scar slithered through his right eyebrow, like a parenthesis. It made him look like he had a past. Something dangerous? Meow, handsome. He looked about my age, thirty-three or so.

He put out his hand. "Lincoln Granade." His voice was almost as deep as Wood's but had none of the rattle. Just pure velvet on my ears.

His grip was warm and firm.

"Evan Pallida."

"Nice to meet you."

Southern accent, but not strong enough to be a hick. And it wasn't the old southern, the kind that seems affected and antique from a KFC commercial. It was the real-deal, panty-dropping, smooth southern twang.

He pondered me with those green eyes, as if memorizing my blue ones. If I'd been able to blush, a trait long since lost to me, I would have done so.

My hand lingered in his for a beat too long. There were scars along his knuckles, more of the past showing up on his skin. Hands as big as his could span my waist with ease. And what could they do to the rest of me?

"Weren't you going to take a piss, Evan?" Wood leaned back, pushing me away from the tall, dark looker.

"Right. Thanks, Wood." I smirked.

Lincoln gave me one last up-and-down look, his eyes lingering at the apex of my thighs. If I didn't have to pee so badly, just that look might have made me wet.



       
         
       
        

Damn, he was fine. Now, this was more like it. Finally, a hot new piece of ass on the U.S. attorney team. Point for me.

"Ladies and gents." I tilted my head as I passed the state court trial dogs. They acknowledged me and returned to their conversations.

I did my business and took my seat again next to Jonesy.

"What's the deal with your new guy?" I asked.

"Nothing special." Jonesy shrugged.

I returned my heel to his chair, letting my full leg rest against him. Again, he stayed still. Only a little tightening of his back gave away his pleasure at my touch. I nursed my newest drink and waited for Jonesy to spill. He usually did. Keep drinking, Jonesy.

I turned my body to face him better. His blue eyes went straight to my tits. I knew the top swells peeked over my white chemise. I had made sure they were exposed to the max when I checked myself in the bathroom mirror. I wanted more information on Lincoln. This was the way to get it. Jonesy had always enjoyed stealing glances at my tits, so I'd put them in his face and squeeze until the information shot out of him.

He sighed as he perused my smooth skin, defeated already. "Came up from New Orleans. He's here for a six-month stint, maybe longer. He's been on a big case. Some prick stealing retirement money from seniors. But more than even seems possible. Millions and millions."

Thank you, Jonesy.

Castille had brought along a tall, sexy gift by laundering his money through New York. Lincoln had chosen to indict here instead of New Orleans, though I was certain both places had jurisdiction. Interesting. New Orleans seemed the better venue. The witnesses were there. The real dirt took place there. I needed to know why the switch. Looked like I would need to pump Lincoln for more information. My pleasure.

Jonesy ran a finger down my jaw. Wood and Lincoln no doubt watched in the mirror behind the lower-shelf shit that we swilled almost every night.

He dropped his voice. "He's serious, though, Evan. Don't fuck with him."

"He didn't seem so serious to me." I leaned away from his touch. It felt nice, but it was too intimate for my tastes. Jonesy and I weren't a thing, would never be a thing.

"He is. You aren't going to be able to work him like you do me." He drained his bottle before signaling for another.

"I'm not working you."

"Evan, you're always working. Whether it's me or someone else or an angle. You're always working." He sighed before harassing the bartender. "C'mon, Mike, sometime today."