Bossy(30)

“‘Mr. Riordan,’ you say while I run my hands over your burning hot, smooth skin. ‘Fuck me.’ But I tease you instead, pushing into you. Just a little bit, just enough for you to know that my cock’s inside you, ready to stab straight in to fill you up.”

My breath hitches and I’m waiting for each new word as it pours out like velvet from between his perfect lips. I squirm in my seat, wanting to touch myself, or even better, wanting him to touch me. To make me feel good, like he did in my bed.

“‘Make me yours,’ you say as I slide in until you’re full of me. Of all I’ve got to give you. Every single pulsing inch. And then I fuck you hard, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it.” He strokes my forearm with his thumb, without letting me go.

My heart’s pounding like a jackhammer. I know we’re supposed to be working, and I know if I don’t resist he’ll know how much power he has over me. Knowing those things doesn’t make me want him any less. Without even thinking, I lean closer, like I’m on autopilot.

Declan smiles as I fall more deeply under his spell. “And then I put my mouth close to your ear and say, ‘Claire... we should be doing our fucking job and not fooling around in my office.’” Suddenly his tone is matter-of-fact, almost annoyed. The moment is broken just like that, leaving him grinning at me cruelly while I’m still trying to catch my breath.

“Wh—What?” It takes a second for my mind to catch up, and when it does, I hate him with every inch of my humiliated soul. I fell, even knowing he was playing me, and he knows it. I sit up straight, but I’m too far gone for dignified. The best I can hope for is righteous indignation. “Screw you, Declan.”

He laughs. “God, you’re easy.”

I swallow, trying to regain at least a shred of pride. “Thank you for reminding me why we’ll never work out. Now, when I go out with Michael on Sunday, I can have a good time without worrying about an ass that isn’t worth my time.”

Did I just use my even bigger ass of an ex to try and make Declan jealous? Why yes I did, and it’s going to take a lot of alcohol and ice cream—not necessarily together—to scrub that from my brain.

“Michael?” He blinks briefly, before he remembers. “Your ex? You’re back together?” He narrows his eyes, watching me for a sign that I’m lying. I shrug. “No way. Think of a better story next time, babe. You’ll be at home in your granny panties reading case files.”

I let a huge grin spread across my face. “Sorry to disappoint, but nope. I’ll be dancing the night away in something sexy at his parents’ 30th wedding anniversary. Michael knew I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The very best lie has a grain of truth.

Declan leans back into his chair, putting his hands behind his head. “Well good for you. I guess it just goes to show that there is someone for everyone. Even the rats who are willing to nibble up other people’s scraps.”

I can’t tell if I’m the rat in that equation or the scrap. Either way I want to slap that smirk off his face. “At least I have someone who tells me he cares.”

“Words, words, words.” Declan stares me right in the eyes. “From a lawyer to someone who wants to be one, remember this. They don’t mean shit. You know damn well he’ll never be half as good for you as I am.” A flash of annoyance crosses his face. “I mean was.”

The suddenly shuttered look in his eyes tells me I shouldn’t push it. He didn’t mean to say that, but still bitter from his teasing, I can’t help needling him even more.

“Is that a promise? Or a regret?”

His face goes hard and he gets up, walking out of his office and leaving me sitting there feeling like a fool. No matter how hard he shoves me away with one hand, my stomach still flutters when he crooks his little finger with the other.





Claire


This was a mistake. A really stupid, stupid, stupid mistake. I love Michael’s parents, but coming to this party is the dumbest thing I’ve done since... well, actually pretty much everything involving Declan.

“Are you sure you want more meatballs?” Michael asks as I wave down a waiter and refill my plate. “That skirt looks a little tighter than it used to be.”

I grit my teeth and smile, because it’s that or stab him in the eye with one of my growing collection of hors d'oeuvre picks. “Have you always been this pleasant, or have you been working on it just for me?”

“Give me a break, Claire. I just meant—”

“Save it. I know what you meant.” I turn away and walk over to the pool.