by Mari Carr
Getting laid would go a long way toward relieving some of her pent-up stress. Her vibrator was no longer cutting it.
Unfortunately, the only man who even remotely interested her sexually was Marc, the obnoxious lawyer.
Sophie had never laid eyes on the man before plowing into him on the sidewalk last week, but now it seemed she couldn’t turn around twice without seeing him.
Even though he continually pissed her off, she couldn’t stop thinking about him in an entirely inappropriate, completely sexual way. Despite his ability to annoy her, she couldn’t deny he was fucking hot and there seemed to be some sort of dirty chemistry between them.
A couple days after their run-in at Books and Brew, she’d wound up in line behind him at the grocery store. They’d almost managed to feign politeness, talking about the hot weather and the city’s fireworks display. But the way Marc had undressed her with his eyes, giving her a far-too-seductive look as he admired her cut-off jeans shorts and tank top, had tweaked her libido and her temper. While their words were innocuous, the conversation drove her mind down naughty paths as she considered the explosive heat the two of them could generate between the sheets.
Then she’d run into him last night at Patricia Butt–Bitch’s birthday party—the last place on earth she’d ever expected to see him. Apparently he and Patricia’s brother had gone to law school together. As luck would have it, Marc had been seated next to her. He’d muttered inappropriate though admittedly hilarious comments about the birthday girl and her guests all evening. There was no debating that his disregard for the country-club crowd was genuine.
She pretended to dislike Marc whenever she spoke to her friends about him, sticking by her assertion that he was an asshole. Though her body and mind seemed to be at odds. Despite disliking his abrasive personality, Sophie wanted him. Badly.
Yes, he was a jerk for accusing her father of such horrible things and for judging her for her place in Portland’s social scene, but she still lusted after him. More than a few times his jokes had been laced with double meanings and sexual innuendoes. She’d been so frigging horny by the time she’d crawled into bed after the party, she’d tossed and turned all night.
Which was not helping her frame of mind right now. She was tired and on edge.
She headed toward the coat-check to ask one of her volunteers, Charlotte, where she’d placed the box of extra flyers. Tonight’s fundraiser was generating money for the domestic abuse shelter, and so far things were off to a great start. She was also happy to have one of her friends in attendance. Jordan had shown up on the arm of not just one of her suitors, but both. Sophie admired her friend’s nerve and wondered which guy Jordan would ultimately choose, though she didn’t envy her the decision. Both Gabriel and Casey were great catches. Sophie hadn’t failed to notice the jealous looks Jordan was receiving from some of the single and even a few of the married women.
“Charlotte?” Sophie was annoyed to find the coat-check room unattended. She’d been an idiot to trust Charlotte to keep an eye on it. The woman was too flighty to take the task seriously. She was a regular at the bookstore and when Sophie had foolishly mentioned her problem finding volunteers to help work the event, Charlotte had stepped forward. Sophie had accepted the offer, ignoring the voice telling her Charlotte only wanted to help so she could ogle the cream of society’s crop in a glitzy setting.
Now she was staring at an unprotected room full of expensive shawls and jackets.
“Shit,” she muttered. “Can anyone say liability?” She stepped behind the check-in counter and into the room, intent on finding the extra flyers. Then she’d track down her “volunteer” and read her the riot act for leaving her post unattended.
Spotting the box in a corner, she crossed the small space and bent to retrieve it.
A wolf whistle sounded from the doorway.
Sophie rose quickly but the damage was done. Clearly she’d given someone an eyeful of her ass wrapped in its tight skirt.
Marc leaned against the doorframe, looking far too pleased with the view she’d offered.
“Wow. Sexist much?”
He gave her a seductive grin. She wished her body would stop responding to him so forcefully. Her stomach clenched, her pussy dampened and she was grateful for the box in her hands or Marc would see them trembling.
He was unapologetic. “When I see something beautiful, I feel the need to appreciate it.”
“And being the classy guy you are, you thought you’d whistle at me like a construction worker.”
“I thought you might prefer that response over the first idea that popped into my head.”
“Which was?”
“Stroking my hands over that gorgeous ass you just displayed for me.”
The battle between Sophie’s head and body flared. Her ass cheeks clenched, longing for that caress. Her less visceral side offered a reply. “Then you made the right call because I would have kneed you in the balls. Hard.”
He nodded. “That’s what I thought. Hence my whistle from all the way over here.”
His tone was light and friendly, making it impossible to take offense at his comments. The closet wasn’t that large but his assessment was correct. Several feet protected his balls from her knee.
Sophie subtly pressed her legs together and tried to force air into her lungs. Apparently the space between them wasn’t that safe after all. She flushed as her body heated at their proximity—and semi-privacy.
The observant man’s dark-blue eyes narrowed.
He must be hell on juries. He notices far too much.
He stepped into the room. She tried to hide her shock when he closed the closet door behind him. The darkness was cut by a mellow glow provided by the low-watt fixture hanging in the center of the ceiling, and instantly she was reminded of nights spent beside a dying fire in her family’s large living room. She was a sucker for a fireplace.
Marc’s deep voice cut through the silence. “Maybe I was wrong.”
Her eyes tried to adjust to the dim lighting as he continued to move closer. “About what?” Her throat tightened, making her words sound thick and far too loud in the small room.
Marc didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took the box of flyers out of her hands, setting it on the floor. “You know I’m going to start coming by the bar, right? I feel the need to become a regular.”
“Why? You get some sick pleasure out of annoying me?”
He shook his head, his voice laced with humor. “No. That’s just a bonus.”
The answer was completely unsatisfactory, even though Sophie liked the idea of him stopping by. Despite her better judgment, she wanted to see him more too. “Then why?” she repeated.
“Because I’ll want to do this again.”
He leaned forward and kissed her.
The motion caught her unaware. Her body reacted instantly as his hands landed on her waist, pulling her close. Her breath seized, her body tingled in places she didn’t want to acknowledge and her heart began to race. This wasn’t good.
It was great.
His lips were soft but firm. He kissed like a man who was used to being in charge. He pressed harder, parting his lips and hers at the same time so his tongue could explore. She lifted her hands to his shoulders, her breasts brushing his chest. The action triggered a stronger response in Marc, who lifted one hand to her head, fingers tangling gently in her hair, directing her movements.
She felt the dampness between her legs give way to genuine wet heat. She tightened her grip on his shoulders, trying to get impossibly closer. Marc’s hand at her waist dropped lower, sliding until he cupped the ass he’d been admiring earlier.
The touch sparked two reactions in Sophie—full-fledged arousal and eye-opening comprehension of exactly what she was doing. The alarm began to sound and her brain defeated her physical urge to strip them both naked, drag him to the floor and—
She pushed him away, struggling to catch her breath and still her pounding heart.
<
br /> Marc released her and her body screamed out in anger at his easy capitulation.
“You have some nerve,” she said, hating the breathless quality in her voice.
He grinned, his face completely devoid of remorse. “You liked kissing me.”
“You caught me by surprise.”
He smoothed his hand along her cheek. It was a gentle touch with more physical impact than if he’d shoved those same gorgeous fingers inside her empty pussy.
“The evidence is indisputable. Surprise lasts for a few seconds at most. You let me kiss you for several minutes.”
Freaking lawyers.
Time to retreat. Regroup.
“Whatever.” Christ. That was it? That was her big, witty comeback? She needed to get her head screwed on straight because she was definitely losing her edge.
Stepping to the side, she walked around him toward the door. Once again, she was disappointed when he didn’t try to stop her. Jesus. This was bad. Really bad.
She reached for the knob at the exact moment Marc’s hand landed on the door, holding it closed. Her body shifted into overdrive at the power play. Since when was she turned on by shit like this? Usually she was the aggressor in her relationships, the top dog.
She spun to face Marc, refusing to let him think she was weak. “Careful, counselor. I’m still mad at you for your false accusations toward my dad and, despite my earlier surprise, I think you may find me way out of your league.” She tried to sound intimidating, unafraid, but she feared she fell short of the mark.
Especially when Marc leaned forward. Sophie thought he was going to kiss her again. Her eyes actually started to drift shut in anticipation, but at the last minute he changed direction until his lips landed beside her ear. She tried to repress the shiver of charged excitement caused by his hot breath on her face. She was only half successful and could picture Marc smirking at her primal response.
“Don’t worry about me, princess. I know exactly what the outcome of this case will be. But by all means, keep proclaiming innocence if you want to. I like a challenge.” He followed up his taunt with a sharp nip to her earlobe that should have infuriated her, but instead shot through her like molten lava.
She sucked in a deep breath, searching for a rebuttal. Her brain had gone on permanent vacation. Instead of speaking, she pushed him away with more force than was necessary and left the closet.
She reached the ballroom before she realized she’d forgotten the flyers.
And once again, she’d let him get the last word.
* * * * *
Marc watched Sophie work the crowd, moving from table to table with grace and charm as she made certain each of the attendees had everything they needed to ensure they’d be not only happy, but generous as the evening progressed. He’d teased her about her job as a party planner, but he had to admit she had a flair for it. Not to mention the fact she was putting her talents to good use, raising money tonight for a cause that was quite close to his heart.
All his preconceived notions about the type of woman Sophie was were being destroyed, one after another.
After running into Ms. Kennedy outside his office last week, he’d done a bit of research on her.
His gut reaction when she’d plowed into him had been immediate suspicion. He wouldn’t put it past Jasper Kennedy to use anything or anyone to achieve his goal of acquiring the community center property. Its location in the city made it a prime piece of real estate.
He had to hand it to Jasper. The man had connections to everyone. The meeting in the judge’s chambers last week was a testament to that. It had been hastily arranged—the day before a holiday—no doubt to thwart the board of trustees’ intention to fight against the sale of the center. As a result, Marc had been forced to stay up all night preparing the documents needed to give them time to raise the funds to make the building improvements.
Finding Sophie Kennedy outside his door just minutes before he’d been preparing to battle her father’s lawyers had seemed far too coincidental.
However, fate had a perverse sense of humor. Especially when he’d discovered he had Sophie’s phone. Sharing a drink with her at Books and Brew had at least convinced him Jasper hadn’t been using his daughter to prevent him from making it to the meeting on time. If anything, it appeared her father was hiding his plans from Sophie.
During their conversation last night at Patricia’s birthday party, he’d learned she’d been unable to reach Jasper to question him, though she’d stuck to her assertion that her father was innocent of any wrongdoing. Marc briefly wondered if Jasper’s leeriness over his daughter’s response could somehow be used to the community center’s benefit, but if so, he couldn’t figure out how. Sophie refused to believe her dad was trying to close the center and Jasper wasn’t around to confirm or deny it either way. In the meantime, the hourglass was running out and the center was in trouble.
Marc wasn’t sure why he kept making excuses to see Sophie. He’d pretended their grocery store run-in was a coincidence. Truth was, he had driven by the store as Sophie was walking in. And suddenly remembered that he needed milk. He’d turned his car around for an impromptu shopping excursion.
He didn’t have such a handy excuse for attending Patricia’s birthday party last night. When the brightly colored invitation had appeared in his mailbox a few weeks ago, he’d laughed out loud, tossed the thing aside and muttered something about hell freezing over before he went to the bash.
Next thing he knew, he’d found himself at the party and finagling a seat next to Sophie. Patricia had completely believed that he was hoping to chat with Ms. Kennedy in order to forge a business relationship with Jasper. Patricia—ever the social-climbing gossipmonger—had bought his story hook, line and sinker, and had been only too willing to change the table arrangements.
Marc was pleasantly surprised to discover how down-to-earth Sophie was. He’d assumed from the stories he’d read about her in the newspaper that she was another trophy-wife wannabe. He’d met enough of that type in his lifetime. It was one of the main reasons he’d walked away from a prosperous career in his family’s law firm and moved all the way across the country. He’d wanted to escape his family’s name and connections, to prove he could make it on his own.
He and Sophie had more in common than he’d let her believe. The Garretts were to DC what the Kennedys were to Portland. He’d left DC because he’d been working himself to death—and tired of fending off women who looked at him with dollar signs in their eyes, anxious to get a piece of the Garrett pie.
He’d expected Sophie to be shallow, more interested in her wardrobe than the needs of the community, but that wasn’t the case. And while her trust was misplaced, he’d been touched by her loyalty to her father. He’d been even more impressed by her genuine concern for the center.
After his research, he was less surprised by Sophie’s love for the place. He’d found several old pictures of her with her mother at community events and fundraisers. The center had clearly been an important part of her childhood and the relationship she’d shared with her mother, who had died when Sophie was a teenager.
Just seven days after running into her, Marc found himself knee-deep in an attraction he couldn’t understand, didn’t have time for, but wasn’t willing to deny. Despite the fact his pursuit of her was a freaking gigantic conflict of interest. Jesus. He’d never put his cock ahead of his career, but with Sophie, he found his sense of professionalism wavering.
Sophia Kennedy was beautiful, sexy as sin and, more than that, she intrigued him, a trait that had been absent in his last few girlfriends.
He recalled her response to him in the coat closet. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to kiss her, but something in her face had told him she was equally aware of the chemistry between them.
Sophie continued to make her way around the room, stopping at Gabriel Lawson’s table to talk to the woman sitting there. He’d heard through the grapevine that the wealthy bachelor was dating Jordan, th
e bookkeeper for Books and Brew. She was the only friend he hadn’t met last week. The way they leaned closer, sharing confidences, indicated their friendship was as strong as those he’d observed between Sophie, Jayne and Stephanie.
Sophie had her back to him and seemed to be fixing her hair in a mirror, but he could tell she was really looking at him through the reflection. When Jordan’s gaze found him as well, he knew they were talking about him.
He winked at Sophie, enjoying the way her shoulders stiffened just before she snapped the mirror shut and put it away. He was getting under her skin.
Now if only he could get under her clothes…
His gaze was broken when an acquaintance, Chuck Nelson, came over and stood next to him. “Damn monkey suit,” Chuck muttered, tugging at his bow tie.
Marc gave him a companionable nod. While he didn’t mind dressing up occasionally, he suspected Chuck’s tux had fit better when he’d bought it. The obnoxious real estate agent had gained quite a few pounds in the past year or so.
Marc suspected if he looked up the word blowhard in the dictionary, he’d find a picture of Chuck. Nevertheless, it was a charity fundraiser, so Marc pasted on a false smile and pretended to share Chuck’s derision for the formal attire. “I suppose the ladies like to see us dressed up and since they’re the ones putting on the shindig, they decide the dress code.”
Chuck sighed heavily. “Yeah, I guess so, but just once I’d like to see the invitation for one of these damn events say it’s okay to wear sweats and football jerseys.”
Marc laughed, though he didn’t relish the thought of seeing Chuck in sweatpants at some swanky restaurant. “You should pass that suggestion along to Sophie Kennedy. Isn’t she behind the planning for most of these events?” Marc hoped Chuck would take him up on his suggestion, perfectly aware he was setting her up for his own personal entertainment. He’d love to see Sophie’s face and hear her response to Chuck’s inane wish.