Legal Desire

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

PANICRUSHEDOVER ALLISON, leaving her trembling and clammy. She had never been as afraid as she was now. She wasn’t worried that Trevor would physically hurt her.

But she was worried about emotionally.

She’d broken her own rule. She was starting to feel.

And she hated it.

“Get out!” she shouted at him again.

He flinched as if she’d struck him. She was tempted. She’d balled her hand into a fist when he’d tried to hold it earlier. She nearly swung it at him now.

But she already felt too out of control. She should have refused to tell him anything. It wasn’t as if she’d been called to testify and had had to answer any of his questions—truthfully or otherwise.

“I’m sorry,” Trev said again, his deep voice calming as if he was trying to soothe a child. “I’m sorry I brought up a sore subject.”

She shook her head. “That’s not it.”

And it wasn’t. The past couldn’t hurt her anymore. But the present and the future could. She was worried about that, about letting him get too close.

“You’re not upset that your mother no longer speaks to you?” he asked.

She laughed. “You obviously don’t know my mother. It’s much better when she doesn’t speak to you than when she does.” That was probably why her grandfather had done what he had—to protect Allison.

She studied his face. “What about you? Have you ever heard from your mother since she left?”

“She called a few times,” he said, “when Wally was still alive. But she felt so guilty about leaving me that I assured her I would be fine and she didn’t need to keep calling.”

That fear gripped Allison again. She could not fall for Trevor Sinclair. Sure, maybe he wasn’t like her father had been. Maybe he didn’t lie and make promises he had no intention of keeping.

But she couldn’t be certain of that. She’d already caught him in a couple of lies—about snooping into her past. Why was that so important to him?

“What are you really up to?” she asked.

His green eyes widened in innocence. Feigned innocence? “What do you mean?” he asked.

“You love Street Legal and your friends.”

He nodded. “That’s true.”

“Then why would you consider leaving them?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I may not have to if I win something here in the city. And who’s to say I would even win...”

“I do,” she said. “I know you would.” He was that viable a candidate. Voters would love him. Just voters.

Not her. She could not fall for a man like him, one her mother would have loved.

He snorted. “Why are you so sure?”

“If you did everything I told you to,” she said, “if you distanced yourself from Street Legal’s bad press now, you would definitely win.”

But that was clearly something he wasn’t willing to do.

“I’ll think about it,” he murmured. “But we’ve talked enough about business. Let’s get back to pleasure.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s late. You need to leave.”

He had to go now—because she was too vulnerable, her emotions too close to the surface.

But he shook his head. “I’m not leaving, Allison.”

“Why?” she asked. “What do you want with me?” Because he wanted something. Her every instinct was shouting at her to protect herself—that he was going to hurt her. And she had no idea why.

Trev winced as he saw the suspicion enter Allison’s eyes, turning the pale blue to ice. He couldn’t risk her figuring out what he was up to—that he was onto her. He stepped closer and lowered his head to hers.

But she planted her fisted hand against his chest, holding him back and asked again, “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” he replied—probably too quickly—because her eyes narrowed even more.

And she asked again, “What do you want with me?”

“I want you,” he said. And it was no lie. His body ached with desire for hers, to be with her again. “I want to be with you...”

Her breath escaped in a shaky sigh. “Trevor...”

She was torn. He could tell. She wanted him, too, but he’d scared her. He’d pushed too hard for information about her. But he hadn’t learned enough yet. He hadn’t learned why she would be the mole.

To get back at her father? Or her stepfathers?

He and his partners sounded nothing like those men. Except for him...since he’d claimed he wanted to run for office. He was the one most like the men from her past—the men who’d hurt her.

And by bringing all that up, he had probably hurt her now. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

“It was none of your business,” she said.

But he shook his head. “No. You are my business, Allison.” And not just because she was probably the mole. There had always been something about her that had intrigued him. He’d thought then it had been the challenge she’d represented with her ice queen persona.

But now that he knew that was just a facade, he was even more intrigued.

“Business,” she repeated. “That’s what we should have stuck to.”

“Hell, no!” he protested. He’d much rather give up their business relationship than their personal one.

But she shook her head. “It was stupid mixing business with pleasure.”

“Why?” he asked. Was she starting to have feelings for him?

“Because now you won’t take me seriously,” she said. “You won’t listen to what I have to say about revamping your image.”

“You think that’s because we had sex?” he asked.

She nodded.

“It has nothing to do with that.” It was because he had no damn intention of running for anything. But he couldn’t tell her that so he made another confession, of sorts. “I’m just struggling with letting someone else have the wheel, you know? With doing what you say.”

Especially when there was no way in hell that he was ever going to leave the practice and his friends.

Her brow furrowed slightly as if she wasn’t buying it.

“I think I need to ease into this,” he said. “Why don’t we start with my having to do whatever you tell me in our first arrangement?”

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying? That you will do whatever I tell you to do?”

He swallowed hard. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. But he nodded. “In sex. Just sex.”

But it wasn’t exactly just sex with them anymore—at least not for Trev.

Finally, her brow smoothed, and her lips curved into a smile that was nearly as sadistic as it was sexy.

He was definitely in trouble.

“Okay,” she said. “But you have to do whatever I tell you to do...”

And he felt that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach again. He had a feeling he’d just made another mistake with her. Allison McCann was a very dangerous woman but now she was a very dangerous woman in control.

She was in control. So if she told him to leave again, he would have to do what she said. But now she wasn’t so certain she wanted him to leave.

She’d never had power like this and never over a man as powerful as Trevor Sinclair. Of course, she didn’t expect him to keep his promise.

But it would be fun to watch him try.

“So can I stay?” he asked.

She nodded. “But only if you do everything I tell you.”

He hesitated a long moment before nodding. And she heard him mutter, “Why do I think I’m going to regret this?”

She was worried that she would, too. Every time she had sex with Trevor Sinclair she felt closer to him than she had ever felt to anyone else.

It was more than sex, though. They connected on another level.

Maybe it was just because some parts of their pasts were surprisingly similar. She hadn’t had to work when she was as young as he’d been. And she’d never lived on the streets. But she knew that sense of abandonment he must have felt when his mother left for Hollywood.

That was all in the past. They weren’t kids anymore. They didn’t need anyone.

Allison’s stomach tightened and her core ached with need...for him.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“I’d tell you to clean up the kitchen,” she said. “But that has nothing to do with sex.”

“It does if you want me to take you on the counter,” he said.

She smiled. “Oh, you’re not going to be taking me,” she warned him. “I’m going to be taking you.”

Trevor closed his eyes and groaned. “What the hell did I get myself into?”

She laughed. “You have no idea.”

Yet. But she intended to give him plenty of ideas on how to please her. He started by cleaning up the kitchen.

“When you’re done here,” she told him, “meet me in the bedroom.”

She knew he’d be quick, so she didn’t have much time to get ready for him. She changed quickly into an outfit she’d bought weeks ago.

It had been an impulse buy. Or maybe a guilt buy since the woman modeling this line of lingerie was one about whom Allison had unknowingly spread lies. She would have never issued the statements she had if she’d known the truth.

But maybe she’d so readily accepted those lies herself because of her past, because of her mother.

Damn Trevor for bringing up all those memories. She felt raw now. Exposed. And it had nothing to do with the scanty lingerie she wore and everything to do with what she’d told him: everything.

He knew everything about her now.

A knock sounded at the door, jolting her. “Can I come in?” a deep voice asked.

He was already in...in a way no one else had ever been. Allison thought about sending him away then—about telling him to leave. But she hadn’t locked the door and the knob began to turn.

“I didn’t say yes,” she pointed out.

But it was too late. He’d opened the door. And once he saw her, all the breath left his lungs in a low groan. And the look in his eyes...

They burned with desire.

For her.

No. She was not going to send him away.

He drew in a deep, shaky-sounding breath. “What would you like me to do next?”

Me. But she only thought it. She didn’t say it. She wanted to tease him a little.

Or maybe a lot.

“Undress,” she told him.

He hadn’t buttoned his shirt, so he just jerked it off his shoulders and dropped it onto the carpet.

“With maybe a little more finesse than that,” she admonished him.

“What? Do you want me to do a striptease?” he asked, and he sounded appalled.

She held in the laughter that burned the back of her throat. “You said you’d do whatever I said.”

He gestured at the room. “You don’t have a pole,” he said. Then he studied the room more intently. “Although it would be easy enough to install one.”

She didn’t want to ask how he knew so much about installing stripper poles. So she shook her head. “You don’t have to do a striptease,” she assured him. “You just have to strip.”

He did as she’d told him, quickly shucking off his jeans and boxers until he stood in all his naked glory before her. And he was glorious with his dick strutting out from a soft bed of auburn curls.

Because she’d always hated being a redhead, she’d never been attracted to one before. But then Trevor’s hair was more brown than red. And it was rich and thick.

Her fingers twitched to run through the overly long tresses. But she curled them into her palms to resist temptation. She would touch him.

Later...

“What do you want me to do now?” he asked, his voice gruff with desire.

“Just watch,” she told him. Since he’d stepped through the door, he’d been staring at her, at the lingerie she wore.

Guilt had compelled her to buy it. But she could have chosen several other items besides this. The leather bustier pushed her breasts up and out. Maybe it was because she’d always felt they were too small that she’d bought it. Leather panties with bows on each hip matched the bustier. She’d even bought the leather choker that completed the outfit. It, of course, was bound with a bow since the entire ensemble was part of Bette’s Beguiling Bows collection.

“The first time I saw this room, I figured you’d have an outfit like this,” he said, and his voice sounded even gruffer now.

She nearly laughed since she’d just recently purchased it.

“Where’s the whip?” he asked.

“You might find out,” she said. “If you don’t do what you’re told.”

“I am,” he protested. “You told me to watch, and I haven’t taken my eyes off you.”

But she had yet to do anything.

Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea. She’d wanted to tease him. But she felt self-conscious at first as she reached up and touched a breast.

But his eyes widened, and his breath escaped in a hiss between his clenched teeth. And when she lowered her gaze, she found his erection pulsating as if reaching out toward her.

Confidence replaced the self-consciousness. And she raised her other hand until she held both breasts. As she held the weight of them in her palms, she rubbed her nipples. Then a moan slipped through her lips.

And his groan echoed it. “You’re killing me, Allison. I want to touch.”

She shook her head and continued to tease him as she touched herself. But she was making herself ache even more for him.

He fisted his hands at his sides as his big, muscular body started to shake. “Allison...”

Her breath escaped in a gasp as the pressure wound so tightly inside her. She needed him. Needed the release he could give her. “Okay,” she relented. “You can touch me now.”

He hesitated a long moment before he uncurled his hand and held it to her. “Where do you want me to touch you?”

She liked this, liked putting his hands where she wanted them. She had never felt as powerful as she did now. She replaced her hands with his, cupping her breasts in his palms. He squeezed gently.

“Kiss me,” she told him.

And he lowered his head.

As much as she loved being in control, she wanted to be out of control. So she whispered in his ear, “Fuck me.”

He growled. Then he pushed her back onto the bed and followed her down. He kissed her as he always did—deeply, passionately.

Their lips clung together, nibbling and nipping at each other. Then his tongue slid inside her mouth, like she needed him inside her body. She wriggled beneath him, arching her hips, rubbing against his erection.

He groaned, and she realized she was rubbing the leather of her panties against his sensitive skin because she felt it, too—hot and smooth between her legs.

And she moaned.

She didn’t even have to tell him, and he reached for those bows, tugging them loose from her hips so that the panties fell away.

Then he touched her there—at her core.

Another moan—almost a whimper—slipped through her lips. His fingers stroked over her and over her.

She arched against his hand, needing more. And since she was still in charge, she told him what she needed. “Go down on me.”

He grinned. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

He moved down the mattress until his head was between her legs. And he made love to her with his mouth, nipping gently on her clit before flicking his tongue across it.

She arched up again—against his mouth—and she nearly came. But he drew back—teasing her.

And she realized who was really in control, who had been in control the entire time. “No...” she protested, albeit weakly.

“No, what?” he asked. “No, stop? No, don’t stop?”

“Don’t stop,” she said. “Don’t stop.” He had her teetering on the edge of madness.

Then he flicked his tongue over her clit again as he eased two fingers inside her. And she came, screaming his name.

He reached out for his jeans, probably to find a condom. But she pulled him back onto the bed and rolled him onto his back.

“Allison, we need protection.”

“Not yet,” she said. “I will tell you when.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice very gruff again.

“Just lie there,” she told him. Then she lowered her head. She closed her mouth around his penis, then sucked it deep in her throat.

His hips lifted from the mattress, and he growled her name. “Allison, I’m not going to last.”

She hoped not. She wanted him to go as crazy as he’d made her, as out of control. She moved her mouth up and down his cock as far as she could take him in her throat. Then she closed her hand around the base of his shaft and stroked.

He growled again, and cords of muscle stood out in his neck and his arms as if he was struggling to hang on.

She moved faster and twirled her tongue around him. Then his hands clutched her hair, holding her down and he shouted her name as he came, filling her mouth.

She licked him from her lips and smiled up at him.

“You are dangerous,” he said. “Very, very dangerous...”

She didn’t think he was talking just about how she’d made him lose control. How else did he consider her dangerous?