Making His Baby(81)

“Why?” I lean in a little more, telling myself it’s just for the pictures. “What’s wrong with right now?”

“You’re David’s lawyer.” Kate deadpans. “You’re the enemy.”

“You’re just looking at it wrong.” I brush a thick strand of hair from her shoulder and her cheeks redden. “In a courtroom? Maybe. I’m only doing what I’m paid to do, just like your lawyer. Vivian and I are friends outside of the office. You and I can certainly be the same.”

“Is that what all this? Being friendly?”

I offer a deep, quiet laugh and run my thumb across her cheek. She sits frozen but I can hear her heartbeat racing. My pants tighten as I breathe her in. She smells like sex and promises. She smells like I want to taste.

The things I want to do to her under these trees. Forget the crowds. I would gladly splay her before God and country to run my tongue across her lips.

“I think we both know there is a lot of tension between us.” I whisper in her ear and she shivers. “And I think you deserve to have a real man work your body. My pathetic excuse for a client wouldn’t know where the clitoris is if he had a map.”

“True.” Kate whispers.

“I’ve felt the way you stare at me in the office, Kate. I don’t give a shit about clients or money or cases. Right now, I want to give you what you’ve always been lacking.”

She’s silent for a very long moment, eyes closed and breath still. She finally licks her red lips and turns to look at me, bright blue eyes shining, but untrusting.

“I know your reputation.”

Internally, I groan. Sometimes that reputation comes in handy, like random girls at the bar knowing how big my dick is. This was less than desirable.

“My reputation means nothing. You want a clean slate. I want to be the eraser.”

“Why.” It’s a demand, not a question. I like that.

“Because you’re too good for that sack of shit. Because I’ve been dreaming about making this body shiver under mine for a month, Kate.”

She leans in, our noses practically touching, our breaths shared. Her eyes go hooded and soft, like I’ve finally punched the winning combination to unlock her Pandora’s box.

“I have a room around the corner.”

I grin. “I’ll drive.”





CHAPTER ELEVEN



KATE



We are on each other before the elevator doors close. Doubts flooded my mind the whole way here, but every hesitation melted the moment he pressed my shoulders against the elevator walls.

“I’m going to destroy you,” he warns. His eyes are dark, a growing storm looming within him. “I’m not gentle. Not in the courtroom, not in real life, not in the bedroom.”

“You don’t scare me.” I whisper back.

“I should.”

“Déjà vu.” I offer a small smile, but the rest of me is wound up tight, waiting for his next move. “Maybe I need danger.”

He stares at me, intense and full of meaning I don’t yet know. His jaw works for a second, mulling over the things he wants to say to me, but nothing crosses his lips. Instead, his mouth claims mine.

And

I

Dissipate.

There is no other word, no other sensation. Everything in my brain, for the first time in months, becomes silent and dark. In this tiny elevator car, my world hits the reset button. He is rough, just like promised, but there’s an undercurrent of sweetness there.

He fists my hair and we kiss like we need oxygen. We kiss like it’s the only way to keep the Earth spinning. We kiss like it is the single thing we’ve been lacking in our lives for entirely too long.

It’s terrifying. It’s perfect. I need more.

We tumble out into the hallway. I grab his hand with a grin and pull him to the left, past the gilded picture frames and the art pieces the hotel swears were contracted by local artists but were really bought en masse from China. It is the perfect metaphor. We pass the fake shit dressed in gold to indulge in something real.

If he fucks with the same fervor he kisses, anyway.

Eric stops me from using the card key, his hand engulfing mine, pressing me to the door. His other hand slides around and grabs my ass. His body presses against mine, the hard length in his jeans making a sizable impression. Slowly, he lowers our hands until the card key opens the door. He walks us back into the wall and hurls the key across the room.

My tunic dangles from the chair no less than ten seconds after we cross the threshold and his hands grasp my breasts. He squeezes and hefts them like fruit he’s considering for purchase.

“I pictured you as more of a leather girl.” He murmurs in my ear. “All this lace doesn’t feel like you.”