Legal Desire

She’d rather be angry with him than attracted to him. But she doubted any amount of anger—or wine—could negate the amount of desire she felt for him.

She sighed but she took another sip anyway. She could handle her alcohol. Her mother had adopted the European attitude toward drinking, serving it to Allison well before she’d been of legal drinking age. So she’d built up a tolerance to it, which was unfortunate because she couldn’t use being drunk as an excuse to call Trevor Sinclair and proposition him for sex.

Not that she would have. She knew better than to get involved with a man like him. It was bad enough that he was a lawyer; now he wanted to be a politician.

She groaned with disappointment and murmured, “What a waste.”

The ding of her doorbell drew her attention away from the windows, and she glanced toward the door. Her pulse quickened with excitement.

Could it be...?

Had he found her?

Had he found her?

After that unsettling second meeting with his partners, Trev had spent the rest of the day doing something he’d never done before: chasing after a woman. And Allison McCann was one busy woman. He never tracked her down at her office or throughout her day of outside appointments.

But as he stood outside the door of the penthouse apartment in a building on Central Park West, he truly hoped he had found her now. He pressed the bell for the second time and finally, the door opened. Allison McCann leaned wearily against the jamb as if she’d spent the day running from him.

Had she known he’d been trying to track her down? Had she been purposely eluding him? He wouldn’t have put it past her, especially if she had any inclination that he suspected she was the mole.

She didn’t look scared, though. She looked...

Incredibly sexy. So sexy that she struck Trev dumb once again. He couldn’t talk. He could only stare at her.

She’d looked beautiful earlier that day in a navy blue dress. But then she’d also looked uptight and professional. Now she appeared soft and approachable. Her hair had begun to curl around her face, softening her sharp cheekbones and pointy chin. And while she wore another dress, this one was short, revealing her long, bare legs. Was it a dress or a nightgown? The silky white material was thin, nearly transparent, and clung to her every curve. And she had more curves than he’d originally thought. As he stared, her nipples tightened into points that pushed against that thin material.

A groan slipped out of his lips as desire coursed through him, heating his blood and hardening his body. She was incredibly sexy.

But even though she didn’t look like the ice goddess anymore, she sounded like it when she asked, “What the hell do you want?” and her voice reached new icy levels of coldness.

If not for that kiss, Trev might have bought the ice queen act she played so well. But he couldn’t forget the heat and passion of that kiss.

So he grinned and replied, “You.”

“Fuck you,” she replied.

He laughed and stepped forward, crowding her in the doorway. “That’s why I’m here.”

Her pale eyes narrowed in a frosty glare. And he wouldn’t have put it past her to slap him. But instead, she laughed and stepped back, letting him inside the penthouse. A wineglass dangled from her fingertips, a deep red sloshing around inside the glass as she walked barefoot down the hall to the living room with its big windows looking out onto Central Park.

“I really need to fire Edward,” she murmured as she dropped onto the sectional couch in front of those windows.

Trev’s mind had gone blank again as he stared at her long legs. She’d curled them beneath her on the cushions, like a cat curling up in the sun. “Edward?”

“My assistant,” she said. “The one who must have told you where I live.”

That was all Edward had told him for the moment. But Trev had a feeling he could eventually get even more information from her assistant, so he shook his head. “It was easy enough to track down your address through a deed search.”

Despite how elegant she usually looked, she could swear like a sailor. She could even snort, which she did now. “That’s bullshit.”

She obviously wasn’t buying his explanation. Edward wasn’t getting easily off the hook with her. But that was his problem.

Not Trev’s. She was Trev’s problem.

“Don’t lie to me,” she warned him. “I don’t appreciate being lied to.”

“How do you know I’m lying?” he asked. Even the guys who’d known him since his teens couldn’t tell when he was lying. He was that good.

“Because the deed for the penthouse isn’t in my name,” she told him.

Busted. He hadn’t handled that well. But now he had even more questions, especially since Edward had made it clear it was her place. She wasn’t leasing it. “Is it in your husband’s name?” he asked.

And he wasn’t entirely joking now. Edward had also made it clear that Trev had no shot with her. He’d had to convince her assistant that all he’d wanted from Allison was her professional services. Fortunately, Edward hadn’t been able to tell that he’d been lying.

She snorted again. “I’m never getting married.”

“Again?” Maybe she’d been before and that was why her name was different.

She shook her head. “Never been. Never will.”

“What turned you off marriage?” he asked.

“Maybe I’ve worked too many cases with your partner, Ronan Hall.”

Ronan was the divorce lawyer. “Ronan became a divorce lawyer because of his parents’ lousy marriage.”

Her face was like a beautiful mask, hiding all her emotions and reactions but for a slight flinch. He must have hit a nerve. Usually when he did that, he pushed even more to break whomever he had on the stand.

But Allison wasn’t on the stand. She was on the couch. And she was so damn sexy. He didn’t want her to get mad and toss him out of her place before he’d had a chance to kiss her again. To touch her.

He pointed at the open bottle on the glass coffee table. “Are you willing to share?” he asked.

She glanced at it, as if assessing if there was enough left. “Glasses are in the kitchen,” she said, gesturing toward the breakfast bar at the other end of the living room.

But he dropped onto the couch next to her and reached for her glass. She wouldn’t release the stem, so he just slid his fingers over hers. Her skin was so silky and warm beneath his. His mouth suddenly very dry, he directed the glass to his lips and took a sip from the rim.

It wasn’t the dry red he would have expected her to drink. This one was full of nuances: berries, chocolate, coffee. It was bold like she’d proven to be. He flicked his tongue across his lower lip, where a drop had fallen, to savor the rich flavor. And her pale eyes darkened, her pupils dilating.

“Why are you here?” she asked. Her voice wasn’t quite as icy now as it had been when she’d opened the door.

“I told you,” he said. “I want you.”

“To manage your campaign,” she said and snorted again.

He shook his head. “That wasn’t what I was proposing,” he said. “I wanted you to revamp my image, so that I can run for office.” Not that he actually wanted to but he needed a reason to spend time with her—a lot of time.

“Wanted?” she asked. “Did you change your mind?”

“Nope,” he said. “But after that kiss today, that’s not all I want from you.”

He reached out again but not for the glass. Instead, he skimmed his fingertips over those long, bare legs of hers. Her skin was so damn silky, her legs so toned. She must have been a runner. He wanted those legs wrapped around his waist or arched over his shoulders or...

“You said you weren’t propositioning me for sex,” she reminded him.

“That was stupid,” he admitted. “I should have been.”

“Too late now.”

“You said I had a chance of convincing you to accept that proposition.” A better chance than getting her to work with him on a political campaign. Now he had some idea why.

If only he’d done a little more research on her before coming up with his plan...

But after that kiss and the comment she’d made before leaving his office, he’d changed his plan. He was much more excited about this new one than he’d been about pretending to run in an election.

He trailed his fingers from her calf to her thigh and toyed with the edge of her silk gown. Or was it just a long, loose pajama shirt? Did she wear anything underneath it?

He wanted to find out, so he moved his fingers up a little higher. And he held his breath, waiting for her to stop him. She could—with just a look. Her icy ones were capable of freezing anyone.

Except maybe him...

CHAPTER FOUR

TREVOR SINCLAIR WAS so damn hot with his thick, unruly hair, with his chiseled features, with his Olympian’s body. If he wasn’t this gorgeous, he wouldn’t affect her like he did.

Allison would be able to retain her professionalism. But she’d lost that this morning in his office. Hell, she’d lost it a month or so ago when she’d confessed to her hatred of lawyers.

She was surprised they hadn’t fired her firm then. But he’d offered her a new assignment. One she probably should have taken.

She hadn’t lied when she’d said she’d rather accept his proposition for sex. Especially now.

With his fingertips sliding up her bare thigh.

Her skin tingled, and a delicious little shiver quivered inside her, making her nipples tighten even more than they had when she’d caught him staring at them. At her...

“So will you?” he asked as he moved his hand even higher until he touched the curve of her hip beneath her nightgown.

She’d changed into something comfortable because she hadn’t been expecting company.

Liar...

The little voice inside her head always called her on her bullshit. She’d known, or maybe she’d just hoped, that Trevor Sinclair would seek her out after the comment she’d made. That he would accept the challenge to change her mind.

From the powerful corporations he’d taken on in the past, he clearly knew no fear. Which was a thrill for her since most men were too frightened of her and her ice queen reputation to even approach her.

While she had purposely created that persona, sometimes it served its purpose too well. Sure, she didn’t want any messy personal entanglements, but she wouldn’t mind mixing a little pleasure into her business-only life. If his reputation was real and not just like hers, Trevor Sinclair might be able to give her that pleasure she’d been denied too long.

“Will I what?” she asked, and she moved, uncurling her legs to stretch them out behind where he sat on the edge of the couch.

“Accept my proposition.”

She shook her head. “I’m not going to play politics with you, Trevor.”

But despite her reservations, she was intrigued at the thought of making him into a viable candidate. It would be relatively easy.

“How about just playing with me?” he asked. “How about accepting my proposition for sex?”

She leaned back and studied him through her lowered lashes. Knowing he enjoyed a challenge, she challenged him with, “Convince me.”

His wide mouth curved instantly into that wicked grin of his. How could a man with a grin that naughty ever inspire confidence in voters?

That wasn’t her problem, though. She wasn’t going to help him. She wasn’t mixing business with pleasure. She just wanted pleasure from him.

It had been too long for her. That was probably why that kiss had affected her so. Once she had Trevor Sinclair, once she experienced his legendary sexual prowess, she hoped she’d be so satiated that she wouldn’t want him anymore.

“What will it take to convince you?” he asked.

“Not an argument,” she warned him. “I don’t need words.” She heard enough of them, used enough of them herself. “I need action.”

She needed him. Her body was already beginning to pulse and throb in all the most intimate places.

His already-wide grin widened more, and he chuckled. But he heeded her warning and didn’t talk. Instead, he touched.

He skimmed his fingers up the curve of her hip to her waist and then over her rib cage. She sucked in a breath as he neared one of her breasts. But he stopped beneath it. He leaned forward until their mouths nearly met. But he stopped again before their lips touched.

She smiled at his teasing. To show him she was unconvinced, she yawned.

And he laughed. She felt his breath against her lips and could almost taste the wine he’d drunk from her glass. Then his mouth covered hers, and she could definitely taste the wine. But it wasn’t as rich as the flavor that was distinctly his alone.

He nibbled on her lips, parting them, and he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid in and out of her mouth—like she wanted it sliding in and out of her.

She shifted against the soft cushions of the couch. And his hand moved. He slid it up and finally cupped her breast in his palm. There were calluses on his hand, probably from weight lifting. All the Street Legal partners looked like they spent a lot of time at the gym but most especially Trevor and Stone.

Those calluses felt amazing against her nipple. Pleasure streaked from it down to her core where her pulse had begun to pound frantically.

A moan slipped through her lips and into his mouth. The kiss went on and on—open mouth to open mouth, tongues mating. It was the hottest kiss she’d ever had. But she needed more than kisses.

Trevor’s hand moved on her breast, sliding over and over it until his thumb brushed across her nipple. He stroked it and then his other hand moved, sliding under her nightgown, as well. But this one stayed below her waist. First, his fingers stroked her thigh, caressing the smooth skin on the inner side before moving up. He eased his fingers beneath her silk panties and stroked over her core.

She gasped at the sensations streaking through her. Then she moved, parting her legs for him. He eased one finger inside her while his thumb rubbed her clit.

She moaned and dropped back against the couch cushions, away from his kiss. So he moved his mouth lower, over her throat. His tongue flicked across her pounding pulse. Then he pushed up her nightgown and closed his mouth over the nipple he’d teased to tautness. He pulled at it with his lips while he moved another finger inside her.

She panted for breath as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level inside her. She needed a release. She needed him. Desire overwhelmed her.

But before she could reach for him, he was moving lower again. And his mouth touched her core. His tongue flicked across her clit—back and forth—teasing her as he stroked his fingers in and out of her. Then he moved his tongue inside her, too.

And she arched up—against his wide, wicked mouth. Finally, the pressure broke as an orgasm shuddered through her. She screamed with pleasure and dropped back against the couch again, her body shaking from the force of the orgasm and the power of the desire that burned between them.

But despite that orgasm, the desire hadn’t burned out. It still burned inside her. She wanted more.

Trevor’s heart pounded hard in his chest, and his entire body ached with tension—sexual tension. He licked the taste of her pleasure from his lips and asked, his voice gruff, “Was that enough convincing?”

He was so damn tense he felt like he might shatter into a million pieces if he didn’t get a release like the one he’d just given her. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone the way he wanted her.

“You may have overplayed your hand,” she said as she panted for breath.

He chuckled. “Oh, no. I have a lot left to show you,” he promised. A lot he needed to show her. Now. “So do you accept my proposition?”

She narrowed her eyes and studied his face, as if debating. If she sent him away now, he’d know that she really was an ice queen, if she could be that cruel. It wasn’t just a persona or an act. She was really cold and heartless.

Her lips curved into a slight smile.

And his heart beat even harder because he had no idea what she was going to do. He couldn’t argue with her and not just because she’d told him he couldn’t. No meant no to Trev.

But was she saying no?

That slight smile curving her lips was just a little too sexy for him to believe that she could turn him away now, knowing that he was as desperate for release as she had been moments ago.

Before he’d given it to her...

He wanted to give it to her again. “What do you say, Allison?”

Finally, she nodded.

And he reached for her.

But she grabbed his arms, holding him back. “But it’s just sex,” she said.

He nodded. “I know. No politics.”

Her smile widened. “Yes, no politics but no emotions, either.”

He furrowed his brow in confusion. Emotions? They’d said nothing about emotions. Trev had taught himself years ago to never feel those again. To never get attached to anyone.

It only led to disappointment and pain.

She laughed. “Good. You look as appalled as I am at the thought of getting emotionally involved.”

He shuddered and it wasn’t entirely feigned. “Usually I’m not on the receiving end of that warning, though,” he admitted. That was what had taken him aback.

“You give it,” she said.

“And now I want to give it to you,” he said. And he reached for her again.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.