I took a deep breath, let it out. I could do this. I can talk to a hot guy without being a complete idiot. I had a law degree. If I could defend a case before the most ruthless of judges, I could talk to a hot guy in a bar. And it wasn't just any guy, but Sam Kane.
Maybe it was because of Airplane Jack that I decided to let go with Sam. I'd blown it with him-epically-and God would not put this hottie in my path to fuck up twice. In the same dang day.
God, he was dressed in a navy suit and tie. His cream-colored dress shirt and crisply ironed dress pants said this man was like me, a tough professional, a driven individual who paid attention to the details. Add his movie star good looks and the fact that he was acting interested, and it was safe to say he was scrambling my brain. I'd never been any good at off-the-cuff flirting even when my brain was actually working.
"A suit and tie. I thought I was the only one overdressed," I commented. I wore a skirt with four inch heels to a bar. In Montana.
He grinned then. With those straight white teeth and the little turn up at the corner of his mouth, yeah, my panties just got soaked.
My cell phone chose that moment to buzz in my purse. Resigned to the inevitable, I reached in my bag, pulled it out. I slid my thumbs over the screen, once, twice. I read the email. The effects of the liquor were gone and my brain turned back on, set to hyper mode.
"Excuse me," I said to Sam, but had my eyes on the cell and the two paragraphs about work that couldn't be ignored. I shouldn't have come to the bar, taken time off. God, why wasn't there internet at Charlie's house? I wouldn't have missed this. Shit, if I could just get this one thing resolved …
Sam's large hand wrapped around my wrist.
"Let it go," he murmured in my ear.
I shook my head, focused on the status of my case, the brief that needed to be filed, the injunction. "I can't. It's an important email and I just need to-"
"Work. Yeah, I know. I'm a lawyer, too. Remember? Trust me, it can wait."
My back stiffened as I looked up at him. His dark gaze was focused squarely on me. No phone in his hand, no eyes on a damn palm-sized screen. He wasn't focused on work. He was focused on me.
"It can't wait. Do you have any idea what's going on in my little world while I sit here with you?" I lifted the phone and shook my head.
"Yeah, I have an idea. Your work is always at DEFCON 2, which means you're mobilizing the troops in your mind for some all out war with the other party. I can practically see the smoke coming out of your ears you're thinking so hard."
Yeah, that about summed it up.
"How many drinks have you had?"
I frowned. "Two."
He looked me over. "And you're still wound up tight. You need to chill the fuck out."
Now I was pissed and I stood. Just because I lived with a metric shit ton of stress didn't mean my work wasn't important to me. Cara and those men might vouch for Sam, but he was a jerk. "And if I were a man, I'd be considered career driven, not wound up. Look, Sam, I don't need you to tell me about my job. About what to do."
He grinned again. Cocky bastard.
"Yeah, I think you do. And I wasn't being sexist with my comment. Women have more balls than most men, and you do the same job in hot-as-fuck heels." He glanced down my legs to the ruthless heels I usually wore. "I was the big city lawyer once, too and I'd been wound up so tight I was going to have a heart attack before I turned thirty." He studied me with that intense dark gaze again. "I think you need someone to help you shut it all down."
"But-"
Sam grabbed my cell from my hand, held it up in the air so the only way I could reach it was to climb up on the stool. I wanted the phone back bad enough, but I refused to be baited.
"We can debate all night. Hell, it would be fun and a serious turn-on, trust me. But it's nine at night. Even later in New York. Work can wait."
Reaching behind him, he slipped my cell in his back pocket. I eyed his ass.
"Try for it. Trust me, I'll like it."
Another fucking grin. Cocky bastard.
I narrowed my eyes.
He circled his finger at me. "This prickly lawyer routine probably scares people away. I find it fucking hot. That outfit is your armor, right? Let's dance."
He didn't give me a chance to argue further, only tugged me onto the small dance floor and put his hands at the small of my back. We were close. Real close. I could smell him, not clingy cologne, but soap that smelled like the outdoors and pure unadulterated male.
A swat to my ass had me startling.
"Chill. The. Fuck. Out."
I narrowed my eyes, ready to strike him dead with a zinging one liner.
"That look is only going to get you kissed. Dance."
I took a deep breath, let it out. I had Sam Kane's hands on me, his thumbs stroking over the top swell of my butt. Speaking of my butt, it was warm where he'd spanked me.
"I've killed people with my stiletto before," I warned him, beginning to move.
"No doubt you have a whole string of dead bodies in your wake." He shifted his hips, slid his leg between mine, making my trim skirt ride up my thighs. I was practically riding his thigh, which was not bad at all.
"The thing is, doll, that's another turn on."
I laughed then, trying to cover up my growing desire. Who knew arguing was hot as hell? And that swat, it made my ass tingle and my pussy wet. My libido was singing, no, screaming at me to press my body chest to chest and thigh to thigh. I wanted his hands to move a little lower, to settle on my ass. I wanted to bury my nose in his neck and breathe his subtle scent into my lungs. If I were being totally honest, I wanted his cock pounding me into oblivion so I didn't have to think about all the bullshit I was dealing with in New York. I wanted to forget about work, and life, and the asshole back at the office who was, most likely, stealing clients from me at this very moment.
"Stop thinking, doll, or I'm going to have to spank you again."
SAM
"You are a misogynistic asshole," she muttered.
My hands pressed her into me more firmly. She couldn't miss the feel of my cock, rock hard, against her belly. Even with her killer heels, she was tiny. Well, she wasn't tiny, she had lush curves that felt incredible against my palms. Her breasts were mashed into my chest and I swear I could feel her nipples harden.
I didn't know why her attitude got me hard, but it did. She wasn't mild. She sure as hell wasn't meek. From the emails we'd shared about her uncle's will, her work schedule was insane. It had taken her a month just to rearrange her appointments and get work on board for this trip. Her throttle was wide open and she refused to slam on the brakes. That made me want to be the one to slow her down.
"Let's go, doll."
I tugged her off the dance floor, pulling her with me across the bar and down the hallway by the restrooms, then around a corner to a small area by the emergency exit. The lights here were dim, the music quieter. While someone might come upon us, no one would think to go past the bathrooms unless there was a fire.
I pressed her up against the wall, my hands at her hips holding her in place. Even with the dim green glow of the exit sign, I could see her eyes widen.
"Asshole, definitely. Misogynistic?" I shook my head, looked at her parted lips. "I love women. Even ones who are pricklier than a cactus. But like I said, you need to chill the fuck out and I'm the one who's going to make you do it."
"Oh really? And how is that? Gift certificate for a massage? Free yoga class? Yeah, I've tried it all."
I slowly shook my head. "Yoga? Hell, no. Although I bet you look damn hot in those tight little pants. You need to come a few times. That should loosen you up."
"And you're the man to do it?"
"Absolutely. Right here in this hallway."
She thought I was all talk. Hell, no. She needed to come on my face. That would take the edge off. She looked around, but we were definitely alone. "Here? No way. I don't do stuff like that."
"That is fucking obvious."
"You might know what you're doing in a courtroom, but this?" She waved her hand between the two of us, although I didn't give her much room to do so. "You might need to pull out a text book or something. It isn't working."
Not working? I bet her panties were soaked. I was going to find out, because while she might like to be in charge, it wasn't going to happen.
"I warned you, doll. Don't push my buttons because I'm going to push yours." I slipped one hand down between her legs and I could feel the heat of her through her skirt and panties. Yeah, her panties were soaked. "I'm going to push this button … right here."
I tapped at her hard little clit and she gasped.
"I hate you," she said, her voice breathy.
"Is that so? Your pussy seems to like me just fine."