“One of her friends from the bar could have told him,” he says, eyes empty of mirth. “Or maybe she taunted him with it. Who the fuck knows? Suddenly, this cop is coming after me over a night I barely even remember.”
My heart leaps to my throat and I grab his hand, excitement fluttering in my chest. “He came after you? Before the anonymous tip and the gun charge?”
“A couple times, yes.” He nods, oblivious to the gleam in my eyes. “Enough that I even learned his name. Fucking Officer Jones couldn’t get over the fact that his ex-wife had moved on,” he hisses. “The first time, he showed up drunk at the clubhouse, cursing me out and threatening to get revenge before his buddies came to pick him up. Another time, he stopped me for a traffic violation but all he could snag on me was a stupid speeding ticket. He planted that gun in my house, I just know it. Fucker cost me my reputation and my medals. My freedom.”
I sit up, buzzing with energy. “He came after you!”
His brow furrows and I don’t realize I’ve moved and I’m practically on his lap until he lays his hands on my shoulders, seemingly confused by my reaction. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…okay, so you sleep with a cop’s wife—”
“Ex-wife,” he says bitterly.
“Yeah, sure. Listen.” I cup his jaw, professionalism out the window but who the hell cares anymore? “You sleep with a cop’s ex-wife and he comes after you, causing trouble. Did you file a report the first time he showed up at the clubhouse?”
“To who? His fellow cops? They would have taken his side—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, waving my hand. I can’t get rid of the smile on my face. “All we have to do is prove that this cop has had it out for you from the beginning.”
I’ll find holes in the case. Holes that the first lawyer didn’t bother to look into, costing Trigger six years of his life.
“It’s been ten years, but I’m sure we can find people who will testify. People who witnessed him harassing you. Once is a coincidence, and maybe even the second time could pass off as a coincidence, but what are the chances that in a city of thousands of cops, you keep running into the same one whose ex-wife you were involved with?”
And to think I ever considered turning down a case as exciting as this one. I’m just itching to start reading through the reports and picking out the holes in the case, finding some answers.
I turn to Trigger to find him studying me, the bitterness in his face replaced by humor. He smirks. “You seem awfully excited about this.”
Shit. “Do I?” I ease back, but his hands stay firmly on my shoulders, stopping me in my tracks. “I mean, this could mean your freedom, but more than that, it could mean restoring your reputation. I’ve requested your case files and they should get here sometime today…”
He’s close. Much closer than he was a few seconds ago.
“Maeve,” he rasps, that deep voice sending my heart in a quick race. I hold my breath as he moves closer until I can almost taste his lips. Until we’re sharing the same air and it’s so intimate—so arousing. “You are the most fascinating woman I have ever met.”
I swallow hard. I mean, I can see his mouth move and hear the words come out but my brain is too fried to make out what it is he’s saying. And when he lifts his hand to stroke my cheekand runs a rough fingertip over my skin, I lose what little brain function I had left.
For a moment there, the woman was forgotten, but now the lawyer slowly retreats so she can start to feel. And feel, she does.
Everything hurts, I realize.
My nipples ache in my bra, and the spot between my thighs pulses with need, flooding with moisture every second he keeps his eyes on me. Keeps his rough, calloused hands on me.
Long beats of silence pass as we stare into each other. As I try to gather the shreds of my senses and remind myself that I am a lawyer and this is my client. A client whose hands should not be on me. Whose lips should not be so close to mine that I’m practically vibrating to feel them on me.
I want this man.
A Steel Rebel. A convict. A client.
I want them all, I realize. I want this man with a desperation unlike anything I have felt my entire life. Want him more than I ever wanted my father’s approval. More than any case I’ve ever wanted to win.
And from the fiercely aroused look in his eyes, I can tell he wants me too.
“Trigger,” I whisper, his name like a prayer on my lips. A plea for him to do something. He moves closer and the kiss hovers a breath away. In the end, I move first.
With my heart pounding in my chest and my body reeling with the desperate need to feel him, I push forward and lock my mouth to his, sighing against the firmness of his lips. His hand wraps around my waist and I’m dragged onto his lap as his lips start moving over mine, urging me to open under him.
His tongue sweeps in and I whimper when he slides it over mine until I can taste him. I never… I didn’t think a press of lips could feel this way, but it sends heat gathering in my stomach and before I know it, I’m writhing over him, rocking forward against the hard press of his erection.
It feels good.
