23. CHAPTER NINETEEN
Visceral possession rumbles under my skin, holding this woman, who I believe with every ounce of my soul, is mine.
Through my lizard brain and the caveman-like mindset my brothers and I get when we want something, a sliver of reason urges me to let Jillian go.
I release her because she’s not some half-buzzed woman dancing off a break-up, or a tough week at the office. She’s not someone I can fuck in the bathroom and forget about two seconds after I come. Jillian is a law-educated woman with connections that could get my arse arrested if I go too far.
Believe the woman…
One-hundred-fucking percent. If she complains, I’m toast.
“If you change your mind,” I say not sure how to push away this guttural urge to drag her into my bed, fuck her until she screams my name, and dump an ungodly amount of cum inside that fresh, sweet pussy.
Not getting what I want is as foreign to me as not taking a knife and slitting some uncooperative eejit’s throat.
This is new.
New can be exciting.
I relish the chase. Getting her to want me. Although, she’s dedicated her life to putting people like me in prison, so every fiber in her body will fight me.
There has to be another way.
To get my mind off this insatiable lust, I sit down and scan the motions the Borgia’s attorney-du-jour keeps making.
Needs new representation.
Needs new representation.
Needs new representation.
Shaking my head, I take out a pen and note pad from the middle drawer and start writing.
A warm, dainty hand covers mine. “What are you copying? That’s confidential information and can’t be spread around.”
Our eyes lock on her use of the word spread.
“Let’s set some boundaries, sparkles. Touch me again, I’m taking that as consent, and you will be on your back getting railed.”
She whips her hand away. “That’s a stretch.”
Like how my cock will stretch that sexy cunt.
“Those are my terms. Touch equals consent.” I lean my scruffy chin on my hands. “Unless you find it impossible not to touch me?”
A blush spreads across her cheeks, and I notice how she’s dressed. White button-down shirt tucked into a tight pencil skirt that hugs her arse so snugly I see the outline of her cheeks.
That luscious ice-blonde hair is pulled back into a sleek bun with pins I want to yank out and feel it all spill into my hands.
Wind it around my fingers and bring her face to my cock so she can suck me dry.
Fuuuuck…
“If that’s the way you want it.” She steps back, stroking her neck.
“The way I want it is you naked on this desk and me licking your cunt.”
Her hands drop. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Saying those things to me.”
“Do they offend you, sparkles?”
“Yes.” She swallows, her throat working beautifully.
“I think you’re lying.”
She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Care to make a wager?”
Her eyes widen. “I’m not sure what horrifies me more. The wager or the condition.”
“I fucking like you so much,” I bark a laugh. “The condition is, I put my hand up that tight skirt to see if you’re wet, and the wager is if I find a wet cunt, I get to taste how much you’re aching for me.”
Her eyelashes flutter like she’s drunk on my dirty talk. “And if you’re wrong?”
Nothing comes into my head because I know I won’t be wrong.
Pursing my lips, I say, “If you’re dry, I get your brother on the phone and tell him, I will go to the Borgias with what I know unless he promotes you.”
She plops her gorgeous arse into the plush wingback chair in front of my desk. “Never mind.”
“Ha!” I chuckle.
Her career ambition is no match for how bad she wants me to touch her. Make her scream.
Alas, I force myself to return to my earlier train of thought.
“To address your concern, I’m noting all the attorneys who filed these continuance motions.”
“Why?”
“To investigate them. If they’re in on a scheme to show up for a hearing and then dump the client immediately after to play a game, you can’t win.”
She shakes her head, a few tendrils of hair brushing her shoulders. They release a fragrance that hits me in the chest.
Coconut.
Christ, I can use a vacation. My mind races off, picturing sparkles and me fucking on a beach in Hawaii, naked, not caring who walks by. Again and again. My throat tightens how sharp that image is. And where the fuck it came from. I’ve never been to Hawaii. It seems like the thing to do with a woman you’re serious with.
Serious? I want to shove her on my brother’s plane and lock her in my loft.
When my brother’s new wife, Katya, bought an entire building for her dance studio on Mayfair, Lachlan mentioned the three-thousand-square-foot loft above. Pre-war, carved moldings with arched windows look out toward the lights of Manhattan. That sprawling stretch of open space will feel empty when I go home alone.
“I really want this case, Eoghan.” The words catch in Jillian’s throat and still me.
Christ, this means so much to her.
My wheels start turning, and I wonder if it’s wise to let her bring the Borgias down. Maybe just put a dent in their armor. Is this a new opportunity for my family?
With Jillian’s perfume driving me insane, all I can think about is fucking her. But she told me no.
“I need better light.” I grab the folders and stomp toward the floor-to-ceiling windows out of frustration before I snap. Do something stupid. I can’t even look at her, I want her so damn much.
With one hand on the cool glass panel on the far wall, I will myself back into the conversation about this crap case. “Are you aware Daniel hasn’t mentioned anything about the statute of limitations in any of his motions?”
“No. I assumed that was known.”
“Where are your witness statements?” I flip through the folders.
“Not in there.” She folds her arms.
“Why?”
“That’s truly confidential and unethical to share. I just need you to analyze their motions against us.”
I don’t bother telling her that my middle name is unethical.
“I already have an idea for you.” I sit back, ignoring my hard on straining against my pants.
Even with all the testosterone rushing through me, I still manage to develop a course of action. Only, I intended to slam dunk the theory on a ‘courier’ and get the fuck out of town.
It’s feeling very kismet that my growing inability to walk away from this woman is colliding spectacularly with a complicated case to work on. A case against my enemy.
“What’s your idea?”
“Argue for the public interest.” I make tight fists.
A beautifully sculpted eyebrow raises as she crosses her legs, forcing her tight skirt to inch up her thighs. She pauses a second in between to drive me fucking nuts. “Go on.”
“I’d rather me go on you.”
Her eyelashes flutter, and it dawns on me that if I’m working with her, she can sue me for harassment.
“Public interest,” I repeat. “How the blatant and purposeful attempt to thwart justice by abusing the court weighs heavier over a person’s right to unconditional due process.”
She thinks about that, and the smile that creeps across her mouth kills me. Nodding, she says, “Right. Or everyone would just keep firing lawyers.”
I open my mouth to say more, but I see the fire in her eyes, and know her brain is already working for the solution.
Fuck, smart women are sexy as hell. This one is anyway. The sexiest.
She gasps and grips the armrests. “Nevada vs. Forsythe.”
My heart pounds at her confidence. “Explain.”
“Switching up lawyers to delay a case. Forsythe vs. Nevada set the precedent that in the event of unreasonable number of lawyer changes, and enough solid evidence, the prosecution can move for a summary judgment and avoid a trial all together.”
“What was the state’s argument?” I sit back, fascinated by her.
She’s more determined than I expected. And I doubt her shitty brother has any idea how smart she is.
“The average Joe can’t afford to juggle lawyers,” she goes on and her voice sings to me. “But rich people tend to commit bigger crimes that threaten public interest.”
“That’s biased against rich people, Counselor,” I mock argue.
“The rich and powerful think the rules don’t apply to them.” And mafia bosses, but she doesn’t call me out, even though I’m sure she knows what I am. “They take risks the average person doesn’t.”
“This is good, sparkles.” My eyes flicker to her face.
For a blonde, her skin with warm tones glows, especially her cheeks. I’m glad when I see the scratch on her cheek is gone.
“Let’s download the whole Forsythe case and see if there are other references. Always have an ace in your back pocket.”
“Daniel called you a ‘cornered pit bull,’” she whispers. “Because of what he did for your brother.”
I level her with a hardened gaze. “Who would you rather see go down? A drug-addicted doctor with no real ties to organized crime, or the most powerful Cosa Nostra west of the Mississippi?”
“All criminals need to be punished in some way. Maybe not jail. That’s why there’s probation. Fines.”
“Your brother doesn’t know shit about why I stuck around. I’m here because I also need to settle Cormac’s debts.”
And to tie you to my bed and fuck you again and again, sparkles.
Somewhere in between, I need to pay a visit to Lazaro Scava, the Borgia underboss, who made a shitty deal with Cormac then sent a hitman to kill Darragh as punishment.
We’re no match for the Borgias, threats against his house to get even won’t fly. But to ignore what they did to Darragh is a sign of weakness.
Vance is taking a swing at them. We may be a smaller house, but big empires like Borgia have enemies. Enough of them will form a coalition.
Pushing my personal vendettas out of my head, I say to Jillian, “It looks like you have your first motion.”
I pull out my laptop.
“Wait!” Jillian lifts out of the seat and then bends over to dig through her briefcase on the bronze leather sofa.
Fuck, that arse is going to be the death of me.
“Daniel said to write your notes on this.” She holds out a Chromebook.
Rolling my eyes, I signal to put it down. “When is the next hearing?”
“Not for three weeks. That’s why Daniel needs this brief to argue in court before the statute runs out.”
“Looks like we’ve got work to do, sparkles.” I drill her with a stare. “Last chance to get messed up in my sheets. How about we clear our heads and spend all weekend in my bed?”
Her lips part and my heart stops, thinking she’s about to say yes, but her phone dings. Her hazel eyes drift that way, and her smile widens…
The fucking dating app.
“Can’t. I have a thing tomorrow night.”
Anger floods my veins. She figured out how to turn off the BLOCK feature.
“Thing?”
Her eyes flutter and heat rushes to my cock. “Book club.”
“Book club?”
Biting her lip, she says, “In fact, I need to stay in tonight and listen to the audiobook because I didn’t get a chance to read it.”
“What’s the name of the book?”
She tilts her head. “Why?”
“Curious to see what you like to read.”
“Some Chick-Lit, sisters fighting thing.” A blush stains her cheeks when she lies.
I’ve already looked at her Audible App.
It’s nothing but smut.
“What time is your meeting?” I fold my arms, knowing I’ll check her calendar.
I’ve moved all her information to a burner phone that syncs every few minutes with her phone. What she sees I see. What she does, I know. What she reads, or listens to…
Fuck, guess I’m listening to that book with her tonight.
“My personal life is none of your business.”
“Does that include when your cunt is wet and spread for me?”
Her jaw drops, “You’re impossible.”
“Impossible to get over? Aye.”
Jillian is a drug that I can overdose on. Or I can get my buzzes slowly. Her little game of chase keeps me on edge. Oddly, I enjoy it.
Especially since she thinks once she leaves here, she leaves me behind.
I am everywhere, sparkles…
I have the information I need, so I push the crappy folders toward her.
“I can’t concentrate smelling your perfume anyway. Get out of here and let me find more cases that reference Forsythe before I shove my face between your legs and change your mind about letting me fuck you in my bed all weekend.”