A Little Wild (19 page)

Hell, she and him both.

“We’re lucky I’m so resourceful, then.” He clasped her hand. “Come on.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you’re resourceful,” Tess half-whispered. She blinked, but the pitch-black darkness had swallowed her whole. Stepping backward, she bumped the rear wall of the under-stairs closet. Champagne droplets splashed her hand, and her evening bag bounced on her hip. “Did anyone see us come in here?”

“Nope.” Zach’s low, quiet voice caressed her. While she sensed his presence, she couldn’t quite make him out. He stood several centimeters away, a large, inviting male shadow.

“Did you look back to check?” She hadn’t. His questions about touching had aroused illicit sensations in her lust-starved body, mesmerizing her. If Paul or anyone else familiar with her work at Greenburg had seen them—

“Don’t worry, my eyes were wide open.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Yes, you are. That’s okay. Your job means a lot to you. I wouldn’t put it in jeopardy.”

Just being with him put her in jeopardy. Not her safety—her emotions. She wanted to sleep with Zach so badly, she ached. But she couldn’t risk confusing sex with sentiment and winding up like her unhappy mother.

Chloe’s bet would help her in that regard. Six weeks. She could do it. In fact, the sooner she and Zach “did it”, the sooner the countdown could start.

“I know you wouldn’t intentionally put my job in jeopardy, Zach,” she said quietly. “However, it might be best if I referred you to another lawyer.”

“Not a chance. I want you.”

Guilt chased her excitement. They’d already had this conversation when she’d agreed to represent him, and she’d benefited by way of Sydney and before long perhaps Teddy Wallis.

Was it fair to ask Zach to back out of their arrangement?

“But if I gave you to someone I trust?” she asked.

The shadow of his head moved back and forth in a negative reply. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness to the point where she distinguished his grainy-looking features.

“I’ve been down that road already, Tess, and I don’t want to travel it again. Having someone you trust isn’t the same as having you. I trust
you
.” His hand drifted to her arm, gliding up and down, producing rushes of sensation everywhere his fingertips touched.

“Then I’ll take you on pro bono.” Arousal peaked within her. His hand continued gliding, stealing her breath and wreaking havoc with her senses.

His low chuckle wove through her. “What are you up to?”

“Negotiating the terms of our relationship.”

“This could get interesting.” Abandoning her arm, he backed away.

No, no. Wrong direction.

“What are
you
up to?” she whispered.

“Locking the door.” The catch
snicked
softly in the cocooning darkness. “Unless you’d rather risk someone coming in and catching us?”

The damn man sounded hopeful.

“Um, no, the locking’s okay.” Nerves jumping, she tightened her grip on her champagne glass. She needed to lose the awkward thing.

“Good, because I want you to myself.”

He stepped toward her again. The staircase landing provided space to move without clobbering their heads or forcing a retreat into the deepest reaches of the closet, where who knew how many dust bunnies, cobwebs and spiders lurked?

She readjusted her purse strap on her shoulder. “You’re agreeing to the pro bono?”

“I’m pro many things, babe, but bono isn’t one of them. I can afford to pay you.”

“I don’t want you to. It makes me feel like I’m trading my services or something.”

“You are trading your services—your legal services—for money.”

“It feels like more than that. It feels like I’m trading sexual services for opportunities like Sydney and Teddy.” She paused. “
And
for money.”

“But you aren’t.”

“It feels like I am, and that’s what counts.”

His hand rested on her arm again. Despite the turn their conversation had taken—or perhaps because of its bawdy nature—tiny goose bumps pebbled her bare flesh.

Cool champagne drops spattered her hand. “Damn it, I’m spilling my drink.”

He extracted the crystal flute from her fingers and placed the glass on a stack of boxes.

“You aren’t prostituting yourself, babe.” His husky murmur rolled over her. “But perception is everything, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want you to perceive that you are.” His hands settled on her hips, their weight and warmth penetrating through her satin dress. Desire shot between her legs. “How about you represent me pro bono, and, in exchange, I’ll donate your usual fee to charity?”

Creative thinking. She liked it.

“A charity of my choosing?” she pinned down.

He nodded.

She supposed she couldn’t pass up this chance to develop her benevolent side.

“Works for me.” What a relief.

He smiled. Slow, sensual…and deadly sexy.

“Should we continue the negotiations?” he whispered.

“What else would you like to negotiate?”

“I figure the primary issue is whether we agree to keep our relationship in the closet.”

Her lips curved. But not for long. Zach’s head lowered. He was going to kiss her.

The ache deep inside her chest swelled to overwhelming. Only the pressure of his mouth on hers could fill that empty space. Only the touch of his large, strong hands could tame the need rushing through her.

Her nipples strained against her dress.

He was taking his sweet time about that kiss, though. All this hovering so close, his breath warm on her cheek, his mouth so near that she practically tasted him, filled her with frustration.

Someone had to take charge here—and fast.

Chapter Twelve

Dropping her purse to the floor, Tess wrapped her arms around his neck. “Our relationship stays in the closet, Zach…in your car if you drive me home…in my bedroom once we arrive. Anywhere it’s just you and me. I want to make love with you. I want to feel you moving inside me.”

He groaned. A low, rumbling, frankly sexual sound. “Any chance we’ll do the phone thing again?”

“Twice a night.”

“And three times on Sunday.”

His hands slid up her dress, splaying her ribcage. His thumbs and forefingers formed a vee beneath each breast. With a small thrust, he lifted both breasts slightly.

Her rigid nipples skimmed the underside of the satin. Need hammered her from all directions. She’d never wanted any man this badly.

“If you don’t kiss me soon, Halliday, I think I’ll scream.”

“You’ll scream, anyway,” he murmured.

His head lowered to the bodice of her dress. He drew the tip of one braless, satin-covered nipple into his mouth. The small spot of wetness seeped through the slippery fabric, creating a scintillating friction.

Gasping at the mind-blowing sensations, she placed her palms on his chest. Her back arced, sending her pointed nipple deeper into his mouth.

Tension gripped her pussy, and her thong panties moistened.

Ohhh Godddd, she didn’t want him to stop, but she possessed enough presence of mind to realize that if he kept this up, the bodice of her dress would soak through. She’d remain stuck in this damn closet forever, waiting for the fabric to dry.

A tempting thought, as long as Zach stayed with her.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford to remain MIA much longer.

“Zach, the stain—”

He lifted his head. His gaze trained on her nipple. “No bigger than a nickel. I was careful.”

Relief coursed through her, tinged with regret that she’d asked him to stop.

That she’d felt she had to.

“When I said kiss me, I meant the traditional way,” she said lightly.

“I know.” His hips moved against her, his huge cock stiff and ready. “I couldn’t resist.”

“I’m not complaining. It was—”

“Fun?”

“It was incredible.”

“You don’t get out much, do you?”

Laughter bubbled in her chest—she hadn’t realized making out in a closet was such a blast—but Zach’s lips came down on hers before the sound escaped. As their mouths met, his hands cupped her rear, gently lifting and urging the cheeks apart in a blatantly erotic movement. He pushed them back together, then apart again.

The thong nestled in her wet cleft, rubbing her swollen clit and sinking deliciously into her. Heat swarmed everywhere, and she moaned.

His mouth lifted a fraction. “Is this allowed?”

Still playing the negotiation game. “Hell yes,” she murmured.

His breath tickled her neck. His hand drifted beneath her dress hem, meeting bare flesh.

Now
he
moaned.

His fingers glided to the thong pressed into her pussy. “How about this? Allowed?”

She nodded.
Hurry!
Who was seducing whom?

His finger slipped beneath the thong and probed her need-slick entrance. “This?”

Sensual shudders swept her. Again, she nodded. “Don’t think I’m the only one getting undressed.”

“Yes, you are.” He sounded smug.

She slipped a hand between them. Displacing his fingers, she cupped his rigid cock through his dress pants. He wasn’t wearing briefs—she’d feel the extra fabric if he were. Instead, she grasped every indication of velvet heat and rock-hard vibrancy, the indentation and malleable ridge where his thick penis and swollen head joined. She closed her hand around his erection as tightly as the bunching fabric and his girth allowed.

“No, I’m not,” she whispered, stroking him. “You’re getting naked, too.”

His jaw tightened. His eyes squeezed shut as his breath hissed from between clenched teeth.

Excitement swarmed inside her. Who had the power now?

He opened his eyes. “Sorry, babe. I don’t have a condom.”

That lousy excuse again? “I do. In my purse.” She wanted to purr.

“We don’t need condoms for what’s going to happen.”

Ooh, good idea.

Kneeling, she unzipped his pants. He grabbed her wrist.

“Whoa, Tess, what are you doing?”

“I want to suck you.” She freed his stiff cock.

“Babe, I’d love that, but—”

She pumped him. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had sex?’

“Um…ah…no.”

“Over a year, Zach. I always use condoms, even for blowjobs.” She thrust her hand up and down. “I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m a little eager.”

“You’ve never tasted—”

“Naked cock?” She shook her head. Talking during foreplay definitely agreed with her. It heightened her senses, aroused her body, and focused her mind far away from her emotions. “I want you to be my first.”

He groaned. “As it happens, I’m disease-free.”

“Me, too. And I’m tired of tasting flavored latex.”

His hips rolled with her thrusts. “Maybe just a minute.”

She smiled. She hadn’t captained her high-school debate team for nothing.

Slowing her strokes, she drew the plump head of his erection into her mouth. As she swirled her tongue around the ridge, his abdomen tensed. Her nipples tightened as his breathing quickened. Oh wow, he tasted amazing. Wonderful and powerful and potent—utterly male.

She sucked him deeper into her mouth. He was so big, she only managed a few inches.

Fondling his balls, she moved her head up and down. He moaned. True to his word, he granted her a few sparse moments of ecstasy before placing his hands on her elbows.

“You’ll scrape your knees,” he murmured. “On the rough wood floor. Someone might notice the marks when we leave.”

The head of his cock popped from her mouth. “Spoilsport.”

“On your feet, woman. It’s my turn.”

She stood. “You’re making the decisions now?”

“Yep.” He readjusted his pants. “Negotiations are over.”

He could take her right here in the damn closet if he wanted to.

And did he ever want to.

The moment he’d slipped his finger beneath her thong and touched her bare pussy, he’d nearly lost it. And when she’d started sucking his dick, it had required monumental willpower not to grab her up, tear off the flimsy thong and plunge into her. Against the wall. Her long legs locked around his hips. Her head lolling backward as she came.

And came and came and came.

Lust ripped through him at the image.

There would be no plunging tonight, however. And no orgasm, either. Not for him, at any rate. Sydney van Hoyt had monopolized Tess’s time throughout the evening. The skinny brunette would probably seek her out again before the night ended. Was probably trying to track her down already.

But Zach could only be so generous. And he wanted to watch his beautiful Miss Strawberry come.

However, at the moment, he loved witnessing her reaction to his termination of negotiations. Her face had flushed from the warmth of the closet and the excellent head. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated.

“Negotiations are over?” she echoed in a languorous voice suggesting she didn’t mind. A woman like Tess Sheridan wouldn’t hand over sexual control on a whim. She’d probably realized from their dry hump on Sunday that he planned to ensure she derived copious amounts of pleasure from the experience.

“Over, done with, kaput.” He pulled her against his chest. He grasped her wrist and held it behind her waist. His knuckles grazed her back and the thin satin bow of her dress.

Moving their hands back and forth, he tweaked the bow with two fingers. Her breathing grew shallow, and he smiled. One tug and the bow would loosen, causing the front of her dress to drape. Two tugs and the ribbon would fall completely undone. Her dress would pool around her waist, exposing the breasts he died to worship.

Her arousal-softened gaze conveyed that she thought along the same lines. Hedonistic pleasure flared in him. She could prevent her predicament with one touch of her other hand, but she didn’t. Her tits rose and fell in rhythm with her breathing beneath the ice-blue satin, begging him to deliver on the sensual situation and untie the bow.

Damn their lack of time. They were taking too long as it was. He’d lick her tits another night.

He was so considerate, it killed him.

“I’m not going to undress you,” he whispered. “But I will make you scream. Quietly, if you can manage it.”