Their Virgin Secretary (Masters of Ménage #6)(63)

"If you think your interns can find the insurance paperwork and it's worth some money, I'll dance a jig." Belle smiled, mentally making a priority list of all the things she could renovate.

Gates backed out of the house until he stood in the midmorning sun. Once he'd cleared the threshold, he visibly relaxed and regained his composure. "Thank you, Miss Wright. You know, all these repairs to the house will be quite expensive. My buyer is still willing to take this house off your hands and pay you in cash."

She shook her head. Even with the debt mounting, she refused to sell. Despite her bad dreams, Belle loved being here. The house had quickly grown on her, and she felt a connection to the place she never had before. Her father had grown up here, and being under this roof reminded her how much she'd missed him.

She looked up, and the sight caused every sad thought to dissipate.

Tate jogged up the sidewalk, his big body covered in nothing but sweatpants, sneakers, and a fine sheen of sweat. Every muscle on the man's body bulged. The definition of his shoulders and chest almost made her drop her jaw. Belle hoped she could remember to breathe. Damn, when he wore next to nothing, she needed one of those arctic air drifts blasting through the house.

A flirty grin transformed his face as he jogged his way up to the house. "Hey, baby. You should have worked out with me. I burned roughly seven hundred calories given distance, time, exertion, and my relative weight." He utterly ignored the lawyer nearly blocking the door and gave her a sexy little growl. "Although oral sex burns roughly a hundred calories per half hour, and you wouldn't have to do anything but let me love on you."

She gasped and slapped his perfectly muscled bicep. "Tate! Hush, you dirty man. Go take a shower. You're supposed to be the one with the delicate nose."

"I can't smell myself." He shouldered his way past Gates, who recoiled and grimaced. Then Tate leaned in and ran his nose along her neck, breathing against her and lighting up her skin. "But you smell so good." He turned to Gates, suddenly focused and protective. Tate morphed from horny man to shrewd lawyer in the blink of an eye. "What do you need with my client, Mr. Gates?"

The older man frowned. "If that's the way you treat a client, sir, then I'm afraid we have different ideas about professionalism. And my business here is done." 

He pivoted on his heel and walked away.

"You didn't have to be rude," he called back. Tate tended to correct people he didn't like. He'd said he merely tried to make them more likeable, but Belle was pretty sure he did it to irritate them.

But that got her thinking …  Maybe she should treat Tate a bit like Sir. When he was good, she'd toss a cookie his way. When he was rude, she could spray him with a water bottle. If nothing else, it would give her a giggle.

Tate eased inside and closed the door. "I don't like him. He sets off my douchebag radar."

Belle felt the same, but no sense in adding fuel to Tate's fire. Once they'd finished all the paperwork associated with her grandmother's estate, she'd never have to see Mr. Gates again.

"I need to get back to work."

"One second." He grabbed her elbow and pulled her so close the heat of his body wrapped around her.

God, even sweaty, he smelled amazing. So musky and manly …  Her girl parts clenched in a silent pleading.

"What?" she breathed.

"Did you know that sex is one of the best workouts a man can get? I could burn a hundred and forty-four calories during actual intercourse and that doesn't include the hundred I would have shed from eating your pussy."

Heat flashed through her system again. The weak part of her longed to throw herself against Tate and forget prudence, but if she gave him an inch now, he'd more than take a mile. "You can't talk to me like that."

"Is he going on again about eating your pussy?" Eric asked as they meandered into the kitchen.

Crap, he wasn't wearing a shirt either. His thin jersey knit pants rode low on narrow hips. What had happened to her buttoned up, always-in-a-perfect-suit men? Now they walked around her house like super-hot cavemen, scratching their perfectly formed six packs.

"Neither one of you should be talking to me about any sort of sex. In fact, you shouldn't be here at all since this isn't your office. And why doesn't anyone wear clothing anymore? I thought you'd set up a legal practice, not a Playgirl cover shoot."

Belle hoped like hell that they couldn't tell how she'd flushed at the sight of all their muscles and bare skin. Her cheeks only grew hotter when they managed to wedge her in between them. Sandwiching her between them and the kitchen counter, they cut off her only avenue of escape-something they seemed intent on doing more and more these days. She constantly found herself surrounded by gorgeous men eager to verbally seduce her every chance they had. Even Kellan had developed an alarming problem with personal space. She'd asked him to stay, and he'd decided that meant right against her.