When He's Dirty, стр. 26
I tug down her skirt and unzip it, sliding it down her hips. I go to my knee and help her get rid of it and her panties. And then I’m back right where I want to be, right where she wanted me before she decided an orgasm was a prelude to me killing her.
I kiss her belly, fingers sliding between her slick thighs, then pressing inside her. Her soft moan and arched hips stiffen my cock, and if she were anyone else, I’d be inside her right now, thinking about me, not her. That’s how selfish the devil’s made me, how self-centered. But back then, I wanted everything with anybody to just serve a purpose and be over, usually forever, nice and simple, but as I’ve already realized, nothing about her is simple. Nothing about me with Pri is simple.
For the first time in a very long time, I want another’s pleasure far more than I want my own. I lean in and lick her clit. She sucks in a breath and my lips curve. Holy hell, I don’t know the last time I smiled during sex, but Little Miss Pri is a first in all kinds of ways. I know better than to fuck who I protect and I am protecting her. I slide my hand down her bare leg and lift it to my shoulder, my hand on her backside, cupping it and fitting her snugly against me. I suckle her, lick her, explore her with my fingers, my tongue, my mouth, and too damn soon as far as I’m concerned, she’s gasping as her body spasms around my fingers. I ease her through it with slower licks and when her knee starts to give out, I catch her around the waist, holding her up, lowering her leg.
I’m staring up at her, her hands on my shoulders, her eyes all satisfied and awed, when she says, “It’s been a long time since—I haven’t—”
I’m hanging on that sentence for reasons I can’t explain when the doorbell rings and my cellphone starts buzzing. I’m grabbing her clothes and on my feet handing them to her in about two seconds. “Expecting someone?” I ask softly.
“No,” she whispers. “No one.”
I answer my phone to hear, “Her ex-fiancé, Logan Michaels.” I disconnect as the doorbell rings again. “It’s your ex,” I say. “Get dressed.” I slide my phone into my pocket and snatch up my shirt, tugging it over my head. “I’m not in the habit of getting a woman ready for another man.”
When I would move away, she grabs my arm. “Really? Did you really just say that to me?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to not be an asshole. There’s nothing between me and Logan. Nothing. And besides, fucking me to get through the trial doesn’t exactly give you a say in what I do anyway.”
And yet I seem to want one, I think but what I say is, “And yet he’s here.”
“I don’t know why. I don’t even take his calls. He wants something. He’s my father’s protégé. That’s how they operate.”
“Like I said—”
“Not me,” she snaps. “He doesn’t fight battles he can’t win.” Her cellphone starts to ring. “That’s going to be him,” she says. “When I don’t answer, he’ll leave.”
We stare at each other, the air pulsing between us as the phone rings and then goes to voicemail. Aware that Logan could be tapped by Waters in some way or some game, I say, “Listen to the message.”
“No, I—”
“We need to know what he wants.”
Her lips press together, her eyes searching my face before she concludes, “You think Waters got to him.”
“If you’re out of his life—”
“I am.”
“Then I don’t like how it reads with him suddenly showing up. We need to know who’s vulnerable to Waters’ influence and who’s not. Check the message.”
She doesn’t need further nudging and to my surprise, she plays the message on speakerphone.
“Pri, if you’re home let me in. I need to talk to you. It’s about your father. It’s urgent.”
“My parents are worried about the Waters’ case,” I say. “He’s now tasked with scaring me straight, so to speak. Straight out of the DA’s office.”
Another time, I’d ask her why she left the firm, but right now, Logan is outside the door. “Be sure,” I say. “Talk to him. I’ll hide.”
“I hate this,” she murmurs, but she doesn’t argue.
Logan rings the bell again and she scrambles to get dressed, almost done when her phone rings again. She glances at the caller ID. “It’s him.” She answers. “Why are you here, Logan?”
The phone is close and Logan is loud. I clearly hear his reply of, “Just open up, Pri.”
Her name on his lips irrationally irritates me.
“Give me a minute, Logan,” she says, disconnecting and setting her phone on the hall table before sticking her gun in the drawer.
Her gaze scans and lands near my feet, and fuck me, she squats right in front of me, her face at my belly. She’s trying to kill me, I decide, a point she proves when she stands, grabs my hand, and shoves her panties into my palm. “I’m going to fall over if I try to put those on.” She squeezes her eyes shut and then blinks up at me. “And my God, I just squatted in front of your crotch and handed you my panties, didn’t I?”
My cock is officially ramrod hard again and I pocket the panties and step into her, my hand sliding under her hair and settling on her neck, my lips lowering to hers. “Better you give them to me than to him. And better my tongue than his.” She gasps and I laugh, kissing her hard and fast before I thumb away the lipstick on her