Chapter Seven
CHAPTER SEVEN
ITWASOVER.
That was what Edward thought. He’d been gleeful over how angry Trevor Sinclair had been when he’d stormed out of her office earlier that day. He’d told her that she would never have to deal with Street Legal as a client again.
He’d said it like it was a good thing.
Allison should have fired him then. The guy had no idea that without clients, there was no McCann Public Relations and no position for him.
What had she been thinking to purposely infuriate Trevor like she had? She’d been angry that he’d been prying into her life. But more than angry, she’d been scared.
She didn’t like anyone getting too close but especially a lover. That was undoubtedly over.
Trevor was too angry to want sex with her. While he’d been passionate, it had been about his friends and his practice—not about her. He wouldn’t want her again.
But that was good. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about him getting any closer to her. While he’d been inside her body, she didn’t want him inside her head—or worse yet, her heart.
No. She’d been smart to push him like she had. But as the elevator carried her and her takeout to the top floor, she felt a flash of disappointment at the thought of spending the evening alone.
Which was crazy...
She loved being alone. Going for a run, enjoying a glass of wine, a book, the takeout that filled the elevator with the citrusy scent of the chicken in orange sauce.
Now that Grandpa was gone, she preferred her own company to anyone else’s. He would have liked Trevor Sinclair. He’d had a lot in common with him since Grandpa had had to start working young in order to support himself and his big immigrant family.
Glad she was alone in the elevator, she expelled a shaky breath. She’d started prying into Trevor’s past just as payback for his prying into hers. She hadn’t really intended to help revamp his image to run for political office.
But she’d learned more than she’d bargained on learning. He was definitely a very credible candidate for whatever office he wanted. He was also an incredible man. Maybe as incredible a man as he was a lover.
Not that she would ever experience sex with him again. Even if she hadn’t infuriated him today, she probably wouldn’t have. Like his partners, he was known for preferring one-night stands to relationships.
And that was fine with her.
She didn’t want a relationship. At least not a personal one.
And maybe it was good that their business one ended, as well, and if Edward was right, it had probably ended. Trevor had been furious that she’d told him to leave the practice and his friends. And she couldn’t blame him.
Good friends were hard to find. She had a few from her boarding-school days. She even had a few of Grandpa’s friends she visited: the women her widowed grandfather had called his “lady” friends. She smiled as she thought of them, of how they all treated her as if she was their granddaughter.
Those were the only familial relationships she really had now. The elevator dinged, pulling her away from the pool of self-pity she’d been about to dip her toes into. She never did that—never felt sorry for herself.
And she probably wouldn’t have if she hadn’t been thinking about Trevor Sinclair and never being with him again as she’d been the night before. But as she started off the elevator, she noticed a dark shadow near her door at the end of the hall. Her pulse quickened with excitement.
Could it be?
She hurried toward it, toward him. He glanced up from the cell he held in his palm. He wasn’t on a call, though. He must have just been looking up stuff.
“Find anything interesting on Google?” she asked, her heart beating fast.
His wide grin flashed, but she wasn’t fooled. She could see the tension in his body. He was still angry with her. “Your grandfather, Patrick McCann, had one daughter. Patricia. Your mother?”
She felt sick. He was hitting back at her just as she had him. Exchanging prying for prying. “Is that why you’re here?” she asked. “To learn all my secrets?”
He tensed even more. And she realized that it was. Her pulse quickened now, but it wasn’t with excitement. It was with fear. But then she reminded herself that she had no deep, dark secrets. The only thing she really feared was Trevor getting too close—even closer than he’d been the night before.
“I am curious about you,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because you’re beautiful,” he said. And he stepped away from the door so that only inches separated their bodies. “And smart and intriguing.”
She stared up at him. “You were very angry with me earlier today,” she reminded him.
“And infuriating,” he added, and this time when he flashed his grin, it reached his eyes, warming the green.
“You wanted my help revamping your image,” she said. “Is that why you’re here? Because you’ve realized I’m right?”
He shook his head. “I’m here because I want you. Not your help.”
So maybe she had been fired. But she didn’t care when he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.
“Mmmm...” he murmured against her lips. “You taste good.”
She’d snuck a bite of the chicken from the container. And now Trevor snuck a bite of her lip, nipping the lower one between his teeth.
She moaned now. He tasted good, too, that rich flavor that was his alone. She slid her tongue into his mouth to savor him, to savor the kiss.
But he pulled back, lifting his head away from hers.
She blinked and stared up at him. Why had he stopped? Was he just messing with her?
But now his eyes were dark, the pupils dilated with desire. The same desire that burned inside her.
“Where are your keys?” he asked between pants for breath.
The kiss had affected him just as much as it had her. She fumbled in the front pocket of her purse and pulled out the keys. But her hand shook so much that she struggled to get the key in the lock.
Trevor wrapped his hand around hers. But instead of steadying it, it unsettled her more. Her skin tingled. Her pulse raced. She wanted him so badly.
His hand over hers, he turned the key and pushed open the door. Then he gently pushed her inside and slammed the door shut with his foot. Fortunately, she had a table in the foyer because she quickly dropped her purse, the takeout and keys onto it to free her hands.
Then she reached for him, her shaky fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt like they had the keys in the lock. She only undid a few before he stepped back and jerked it over his head, dropping it to the floor.
He undressed her, stripping away her jacket and her blouse before reaching for the clasp of her slacks. “You’re wearing too damn many clothes,” he said.
“Yes,” she agreed. But then the slacks dropped to her ankles and she stepped out of them, left only in her heels and her silk underwear.
He groaned. “Maybe it was a good thing you were wearing all that when I saw you earlier or Edward might have heard something else through your office door.”
“What—” But before she could ask any questions, he covered her mouth and kissed her again, deeply. And as he kissed her, he touched her. He unclasped her bra and pushed it from her shoulders. Then he cupped her breasts in his palms, teasing the nipples into tight buds with his thumbs.
She moaned into his mouth. Then he moved his hand lower, between her thighs.
He groaned. “You’re so wet.”
“For you,” she said. He made her so damn hot. Her clit pulsed with the need for release. Then his thumb brushed over that, and she cried out.
“And hot,” he murmured.
She needed him—so badly...
She reached for the button of his jeans, freeing it before jerking down his zipper. His cock sprang free, pushing against the knit material of his boxers. She pushed those down and closed her hand around his shaft. He was so big, so long.
She needed him inside her, filling her.
But he jerked back.
And for a moment she feared that he’d just been messing with her, getting payback for how she’d treated him. But then he ripped open a condom and sheathed himself.
And she expelled a shaky breath of relief—one he swallowed with his mouth. Then he lifted her right out of her heels. And he wrapped her legs around his hips as he guided his shaft inside her.
She shifted in his arms, clutching his shoulders and his back, trying to take him deeper. The muscles rippled in his arms and his chest as he held her up. Then he began to move inside her, thrusting.
And she moved, too, riding him in a frenzy. Desire overwhelmed her. She needed a release from the madness to which he’d driven her with just his touch, his kiss...
He continued to kiss her, their tongues mating like their bodies. He slid in and out. And she rode up and down. Her nails nipped into his shoulders as she struggled to move faster. She was so close.
Suddenly, she shattered, her body convulsing in a powerful orgasm that went on and on.
He drew it out of her as he drove inside her—over and over again.
She screamed his name. Then he tensed and a low groan ripped from his throat as he found his release. His body shuddered, his legs shaking slightly.
“If Edward is listening outside this door, he won’t like what he just heard,” Trevor murmured.
“If anyone was listening outside this door, they probably just called security,” she remarked.
He lifted her off him, but when he set her on her feet, she found her legs were wobbly, so wobbly that she would have fallen had he not caught her.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he clutched her arms in his big hands.
She nodded and stepped away from him. But she wasn’t okay. She wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened. “I thought you were mad at me.”
He nodded. “I am,” he said. “I’m furious with you.”
Trev was still very angry with Allison. But as angry as he was, he hadn’t been able to stay away from her. And not just because he needed to find proof that she was the mole. He’d needed her physically. He had needed that powerful release she’d given him a short while ago.
He’d cleaned up, and she’d changed into yoga pants and a tank top. And now they sat at her breakfast bar eating the takeout she’d brought home. It was all very comfortable, so comfortable that it felt right, very right.
Which struck Trev as very wrong. This wasn’t his scene—sharing a meal with a lover. Hell, it wasn’t his scene to spend much time with anyone but his friends.
Was this the existence to which his friends had succumbed? Was this why they had fallen in love, what they considered domestic bliss?
He snorted.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Everything.
She was the mole. She had to be.
But why?
And why did it bother him so much that she was? It wasn’t as if he wanted a future with her, like he wanted to sleep with her every night and eat meals with her and...
No. He did not want that kind of life. He was not the lovesick fool every one of his friends had become. The only thing he felt for Allison was desire.
And suspicion.
He shook his head and lied to her, “Nothing’s wrong.”
“You’re still mad at me,” she said.
He chuckled. “After what we just did, you think so?”
“You can have sex with someone when you’re mad at them. Sometimes it makes it even hotter.”
“Is that why you pissed me off today?” he asked. It had felt as if she’d done it deliberately, like she’d purposely made him talk about his past, like she’d deliberately exposed his vulnerabilities.
She was every bit as dangerous as Simon had warned him she was.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“So you did do it on purpose?”
She was quiet for a while, long enough that he took it for an admission.
“Why?”
“You’re getting too close.”
To what? To the truth? Or to her?
He gestured toward the foyer. “You didn’t mind when I was inside you.” His cock hardened at the memory of how it had felt, buried deep within her. “Can’t get much closer than that.”
“Yes, you can,” she said. “That’s why you got upset with me—because I pried.”
“I got upset because you want me to ditch my practice and my friends.”
She tilted her head, and her eyes narrowed as she studied his face. “But if you win an election, you’re going to have to leave the practice—maybe even the city. I thought that was what you wanted.”
Damn it!
He had roused her suspicions again. He could see them in her blue eyes. “I want you,” he said and he reached across the counter for her hand.
But she curled it into a fist. “What do you want me for?” she asked. “Sex or to help you become a viable candidate for office?”
“Both,” he replied instinctively. He really just wanted the sex.
And proof. That was what he wanted more than anything. Proof that she was the mole. But the thought had his stomach flipping with dread. Now he didn’t want it to be her. But there was no other viable candidate.
He smiled. “You really think I could win an election?”
She nodded. “Yes. Your backstory. The work you’ve done. Unlike your partners, you’ve taken cases where you represent the clear victim. You’re David taking on Goliath.”
He snorted. “Really?”
She looked at him, her gaze running over his body. He’d pulled on his shirt, but he hadn’t done up the buttons. Her gaze felt like a caress of his chest. And she murmured, “Maybe more like Goliath taking on Goliath.”
“And you think that’ll make people vote for me?”
She nodded.
He held in a laugh. The politics thing had just been a ploy to get closer to her. But to think that he actually had a chance...
It was ridiculous to him. But he didn’t want her to see that he had no intention of running for anything but her. He had no problem running for her.
But he wasn’t sure if he should run toward her or away from her. “How is it that you know so much about politics, Allison?” he asked. “Especially given how you hate politicians.”
She sighed, and her shoulders slumped in resignation. Was he finally going to get the truth out of her?
His pulse quickened with excitement—with anticipation. He’d been close to her physically. But getting to know her secrets...
That was even more intimate than sex.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” she replied.
“So you don’t hate politicians?” he asked. “What about lawyers?”
She glared at him. “You’re not going to let any of that go, are you?”
Not when it could be her motive for turning against them. He shook his head.
She reached for the glass of wine he’d poured her while she’d changed. But her hand trembled slightly, and the wine sloshed around in her glass. After taking a deep sip, she said, “You’re right. I did change my name.”
“You took your mother’s name,” he said.
She shook her head. “I took my grandfather’s name.”
And he heard the fierce loyalty in her voice. “I take it he wasn’t a lawyer or politician?”
She shook her head. “Just a hard worker who eventually started his own business and provided manufacturing jobs to other hard workers.”
“What did he manufacture?”
“What didn’t he,” she murmured with a proud smile.
Her grandfather must have been an incredible man. But what about her father?
“What was wrong with the name you were born with?” he asked.
She sighed. “It changed too many times.”
“What? Have you been married?” And he felt that annoying surge of jealousy again at the thought of her loving a man enough to become his wife.
“Not me,” she said with a shudder as if she found the very thought of marriage repulsive. “My mother has had many husbands and she would convince every one of them to adopt me and give me their name.”
His stomach lurched again but it was with sympathy for the life she must have lived. “What about your real father? He was okay with that?”
She shrugged. “Must have been. He never fought it. Guess he was just glad to be rid of her.”
But he hadn’t just been rid of his wife; he’d been rid of his daughter, too. Trev felt a sudden affinity with Allison. She had also been abandoned. And not just by one parent, it seemed.
“Was your father a lawyer?” he asked.
She nodded.
“And a politician?”
She shook her head. “That was my first stepfather. My mother married him because my father wasn’t able to cross over into politics. He represents the Goliath companies you’ve taken on—the ones with special interests voters don’t trust. They didn’t trust my father.”
And apparently, neither did she.
“And your stepfather?”
She sighed. “He might have won if not for my mother.”
He was even more intrigued now. “Why’s that?”
“You would have to meet my mother to truly understand why,” she said. “But it was a good thing he and her other husbands never made her the first lady like she wanted to be. She probably would have been beheaded for something bitchy she said.”
“Marie-Antoinette?”
She nodded. “That’s my mother. Grandpa always regretted spoiling her like he had. That was why he cut her out of his will.” She took a long swallow of her wine. “Which is why she no longer speaks to me.”
Because Allison had inherited and she hadn’t.
“I’m sorry,” Trevor said.
“For what?” she asked. “For prying?”
He wasn’t sorry about that; he needed to learn everything he could about her so he could find out why she was the mole and prove it. “I’m sorry I upset you.”
She shook her head. “I’m not upset.”
But she was. And she looked scared, as well.
“Bullshit.” He called her on the lie as she had called him on his.
She slid off the stool at the counter and pointed toward the door. He didn’t think it was because she wanted to repeat what they’d done there, which she confirmed when she told him, “Leave.”
He flinched. He hadn’t just upset her; he’d pissed her off. Maybe he’d pushed too hard, had made her say too much.
“Allison—”
“Get out!” she yelled.
He felt that sick feeling all over again. He didn’t want to leave her—not like this. But that wasn’t the only problem. He was beginning to realize that he didn’t want to leave her at all—even though she was the mole.