The first drink went down fast, two fingers of whiskey. Hot and potent, stinging his throat and warming his chest. The second, same type, same amount, slightly harder punch.
“It’s Vega isn’t it? He knows we’re talking about him,” she said walking into the room, her legs perfectly balanced on those sky-high heels.
“I don’t like that he’s turned his attention to you. I don’t like it at all.” Those words didn’t accurately depict his rage at this moment, but he was still attempting to hold his shit together for her sake.
She waved a hand. “Then you should’ve thought about that before you suggested lunch in a very public place.”
“He’d already shifted to you. The moment you walked into that courtroom he decided to go after you.” The words were sour in his throat, but that didn’t make them any less true.
“But he’s not coming after me. I mean, a note on my door, tear gas in my window, all just a scare tactic?” she asked. The questions were clearly bravado, because her voice cracked.
Ben rubbed a hand down his face, moreso to break the contact of her intense and yes, fearful gaze, than anything else. He took a deep breath because this was new territory he was about to venture into. New, but inevitable.
Leaving the comfort he’d found at the bar he pulled out one of the chairs to the long glass-topped dining room table he rarely used and sat down. “Come here,” he told her.
She didn’t move.
He wasn’t surprised.
“Come here and I’ll answer all your questions,” he tried again, resisting the urge to snag her by the waist and pull her down onto his lap. From there he would hold her tight, so tight she might not be able to take a breath, but she would certainly feel him completely covering her. Sheltering her, protecting her, because that’s exactly what he planned to do.
“I don’t like being watched,” she replied and still didn’t move. “I don’t like having to look over my shoulder and wonder where that asshole might be.”
Ben sat back in the chair, let his palms rest on his thighs. “You don’t like being afraid.”
She licked her lips. They’d probably been heavily glossed a few hours earlier, now they were their natural tone, glistening slightly after the sway of her tongue over them.
“Fear is not an option,” she replied and took a step closer.
Her hips swayed with the movement, a motion that had his dick twitching.
“If people know what you fear, they can manipulate you with that knowledge.” Her voice had lowered slightly, her approach continuing.
She was coming to him, enticing him along the way. And damn, his hands itched to touch her.
“I will not be manipulated and I will not be scared away. I’m going to prosecute the hell out of this case and I’m going to put Vega’s cold-hearted ass in jail,” he said in a steely tone.
There was only a slight elevation in her voice and her breasts jiggled as she stopped in front of him, those feisty pink shoes leading her right between his legs.
“I won’t let him manipulate or scare you, Victoria. I can promise you that.” Ben had to keep talking to keep from reaching forward, from touching the thighs that looked so full and so soft even beneath the denim.
She chuckled then and tossed her hair back. “I’m not just talking about Vega,” she told him about a second or so before she leaned over and swiped her tongue over his bottom lip.
Victoria
This wasn’t what she came here for. Then again, maybe it was.
She wasn’t going to deny that she’d been thinking about Ben all evening. Even though for a while she and Clinton had managed to keep the topic of conversation on anything but him and this case, Grace, in all her candid glory had managed to circle right back to him. She thought they made a cute couple, thought Ben could relax Victoria a bit, thought Victoria would love his family once she let go of her misconceptions. And when Clinton had gone to the bathroom, she’d made a point to go into how sexy Ben was, how his body screamed “dick you down” were her exact words.
After seeing that note and that picture of them looking so comfortable at lunch she’d driven here without delay or doubt. She’d known the address on the note was his because Grace knew the realtor who’d shown him the house a year ago. The realtor was so happy to have made the huge sale to a Donovan she’d blabbed immediately. And as rumors are usually spread, Grace had raced to tell Victoria. As for Victoria, she didn’t repeat the information, but she hadn’t forgotten it either. Now she was practically straddling him in a chair in the middle of his dining room. It was unprecedented.
And when his tongue snaked out to touch hers lightly it was like lightning streaking through the sky. She pressed forward hungrily, accepting the swift pressure of his mouth against hers, the needy exchange that had her breasts swelling, nipples hardening.
His hands went immediately to her waist, his palms slipping down to cup her ass in a tight grip. She moaned into his mouth, heard the distinct groan of a man on the edge. When he tore his mouth away, nipping the skin along her chin, down to her neck with teeth and tongue Victoria couldn’t help but gasp. One of his hands had moved in a northerly direction by then, slippingbeneath the rim of her top, the pads of his fingers rubbing warmly over her skin. It had been far too long since she’d felt the deliciousness of arousal, the intense waves of passion rippling through her body. And truth be told, she’d never felt either emotion like this.
“I’m going to make love to you all night,” he said in a tone that had gone from its normal sexy timbre to a deep guttural rasp that stroked every nerve ending his kisses had already exposed.
That’s when she noticed his shirt was open, his chest exposed. Dark skin was smooth, cut into perfect pectorals and sculpted abs. Her hands went there, had no other choice really, fingers moving shakily over his skin.
