“I like that. So, date this weekend?”
He laughed. “Agreed. After the game, at least let me take you to dinner and a movie.”
My toes curled again, and I tamped down the urge to bounce on them. Excitement exploded like fireworks inside my belly and the desire to dance around the room worked its way through me. It took all my effort not to give in to the emotions. I kept calm as I nodded, my smile turning into a full-blown grin. “And then maybe… I could treat you to evening dessert.”
His eyes darkened and his grip on me tightened. “Why do I have a feeling that has nothing to do with food?”
I blinked at him slowly, grin turning sly. “Because it doesn’t.”
“Then, yeah… yeah. I want that dessert.”
I couldn’t wait. Chuckling, I said, “Come on, go get dressed or we’ll never get to work.” I turned away to grab socks out of my dresser.
He joined in on my laughter and slapped me on the ass. “Yes, baby.”
My eyes widened as he extricated himself from me and winked, leaving me there gaping like a damned fish. He called mebaby.Be still, my beating heart.
I sighed and touched my flat belly, staring down at myrealstomach. “Your daddy is such a funny man.”
I couldn’t wait to get home tonight to wear my baby bump again, and maybe do more stuff with Dare.
9
Dare
The sunglasses perchedon Z’s nose complemented his black suit and made him appear aloof as he tipped his head back. He swirled his trenta iced cold-brewed white-chocolate raspberry coffee, which had cost me fifteen dollars with all the add-ins he’d insisted he needed and was really a sugar explosion with a hint of caffeine. I just hadn’t been able to say no this morning with his pretty eyes staring so adoringly at me, even though I normally cut him off around the twelve-dollar mark.
The ice cubes rattled in the huge plastic cup, a clear display of his irritation. He only ever did that when he was pissed off. Pursing his lips, he leaned against the stark white wall beside me. We hadn’t been late this morning, somehow, but every single black leather chair in the smallest conference room had already been taken by the time we’d arrived.
Mansfield sat in the middle of the long oak table, glaring down at a piece of paper while all eyes in the room stared directly at him, including Olivia, who sometimes acted as his second personal assistant when things got too busy. Both of his partners in the firm and their assistants leaned toward him, holding their breath. The rest of the legal team hunched lower in their seats around the table.
Z eased closer to me, and I got stuck staring down at him as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He was fucking beautiful, always, but since he’d had his mouth on my dick earlier? I couldn’t stop looking at the curves of his lips. My cock tingled and plumped. I blew out a long breath and tried to keep it quiet, but he glanced up and tugged on the arm of my suit coat. I leaned down and tilted my ear in his direction.
“We should have called off sick,” he whispered. I shivered at his warm breath on my skin.
Stifling a snort, I turned toward him to whisper back, “No, that would have been irresponsible.”
Z stared at me and pursed his lips around his coffee straw. My gut heated and I licked my lips. His eyelids lowered a smidge. The straw made an unfortunateloudslurping noise, which broke the tense spell over the room. The people sitting directly in front of us turned and laughed, and Mansfield glanced up in annoyance, as if the noise had jump-started his brain—or completely derailed his thought process.
Mansfield glared around at everyone. He wasn’t a bad-looking man, though he was in his late fifties, bare minimum. He had a serious face that tended toward harsh with his square jaw, but he reminded me of black-and-white-movie stars—there was just something about him that screamed classy even though his looks were so-so. Maybe it was the way he held himself as if he was somehow smarter and better than every other person in the room, simply because he’d decided that was the case.
“I need volunteers for this weekend.” He stared at each person in turn, not afraid to look anyone in the eye, and I could practically feel the internal screaming going on, though no one was bold enough to so much as sneeze out loud.
Z held his breath beside me and I knew precisely why. A low-level outrage began to build in me as one person after another glanced away from Mansfield. Z was good at what he did and had trouble saying no. I wanted to take his hand and squeeze it, remind him we had a date I really fucking wanted to go on with him. He dropped his gaze to the floor, but I scowled at Mansfield as he perused the averted faces and settled his attention on Z. Mansfield’s eyelids slipped to half mast, maybe because no one rushed to throw themselves on the sword of weekend work.
“Come on, people. Corporate espionage cases don’t come around every day. This is great experience. I have two hundred and fifty-seven patents that need to be logged and compared for differences. Mr. Shoemaker?”
Z didn’t glance up, and I elbowed him. He sighed as he met Mansfield’s laser-like stare.
“Yes, sir?” His tone was already resigned and went with his slumping shoulders. Fuck, I hated this.
“You have an eagle eye, and you’re great at spotting small differences across paperwork. It’s a valuable skill.”
Before I could talk myself out of it, I said, “He has plans this weekend, sir. We both worked last weekend to close out the prep work for Ferguson versus Ferguson.”
Mansfield sat back and drummed his hands on the conference table.
Olivia shot a wide-eyed look at us across the room.
