Willfully Hers (The Dirty Business Series Book 2)

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Willfully Hers (The Dirty Business Series Book 2) Page 2

by Michelle Betham


  I take a sip of coffee and watch my wife at work, sorting through my diary, organizing my days. “I’d better get over there, huh?” I take another sip of coffee and lean right over her, my mouth almost touching her ear. “Dinner. Tonight. Eight 0’clock.”

  I feel her shiver slightly as I pull away from her, but her expression doesn’t waver. I like to think she’s wet, though. That I made her wet, Jesus, I’ve really got to stop this.

  Walking toward Dana’s office I try to wipe the smirk from my face. Lola changed me. I’m not the man I used to be, and for that I’m really quite grateful.

  “Still enjoying married life, then?” Dana says with a wry smile as I close her office door behind me.

  “It’s being very kind to me, thank you.”

  She gets up and walks out from behind her desk. “Glad to hear it. And you and Lola are okay? Working together, I mean.”

  I narrow my eyes slightly as I sit down on the arm of her couch. “We’re just fine. But I’m not here to talk about me and Lola. Actually, why am I here? You were the one who wanted to talk to me, so…”

  “Your new associate.”

  “Which one?”

  “Hayden Monroe.”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s the daughter of Peter Monroe.”

  “The District Attorney? I didn’t even know he had a daughter.”

  “He’s got two. The other one’s in medical school.” Dana leans back against her desk and folds her arms, her eyes locking on mine.

  “You’re not expecting me to give out any special treatment here, are you? ‘Cause I don’t do that, Dana. I don’t even cut my own wife any slack, so if he’s…”

  “He isn’t expecting anything, Evan. She’s good at what she does, and you know she is, otherwise I wouldn’t have assigned her to you. He doesn’t want her to have any special treatment, and she doesn’t want that either. She doesn’t even want it to be made common knowledge who her father is, but I’m not sure how long she can realistically keep a lid on that one. I just wanted to make you aware, that’s all. Seeing as you missed the partners’ meeting this morning.”

  “Her father not have a job for her there at the DA’s office?”

  “She doesn’t want to work for her father, Evan. She wants to work for the best goddamn law firm in New York.”

  “Smart girl.”

  “Everything go all right in court?”

  “Fine. All going as planned. Trial’s set for a fortnight’s time. We done here? I’ve got a meeting with Edward Gardner to prepare for.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Edward Gardner? We haven’t heard from him in a long while.”

  “Yeah. He’s the kind of client I love; keeps us on retainer but never asks us for anything. Until now.”

  “You know what he wants?”

  “Not yet.” I stand up and make for the door. “You want to sit in on the meeting?”

  “Let me know when he arrives.”

  I throw her a smile and head back to my office.

  It’s business as usual here at Cavendish King.

  Two

  Lola

  “So, you got a female, huh?”

  He looks up from the menu and throws me a sideways smirk. “You jealous?”

  “Yeah. I’m making a voodoo doll of her tomorrow and keeping it under my desk.”

  “That’s actually a turn on, d’you know that?”

  I just smile at him. I’m not jealous. Although, Hayden Monroe isn’t exactly lacking in the looks department. With a mane of auburn hair and a sickeningly elegant figure, not to mention the fact she’s over a decade younger than me, I probably should be jealous, given Evan’s past reputation. But I trust him. I trust that he really has changed.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” he says, dropping his gaze back to the menu.

  “I’m not playing to your ego, Evan.”

  He laughs quietly. “Yeah. You’re jealous.”

  “Fuck you!” But I can’t help laughing, too. “You want me to be jealous? Give me something to be jealous of.”

  He looks up, puts the menu down, and his eyes lock on mine. “You throwing me a challenge, Mrs. King?”

  “You really are pushing it, mister.”

  “You brought it up.”

  I take a sip of wine. “The fact she’s the District Attorney’s daughter means you’re not going to do anything inappropriate anyway. You wouldn’t risk doing that.”

  He puts the menu down and sits back in his chair. “You really think I’d go there, huh?”

  “I don’t know.”

  And as I say those words I realize I actually might be a little bit jealous. Of what, though? The fact she’s younger than me? The fact she’s an associate and I’m still just a legal secretary? Is she prettier than me? All of a sudden I feel a little breathless, and I pick up my glass and take a longer sip of wine.

  He leans forward and takes my hand, and I feel his fingers slide between mine and I squeeze them tight.

  “I love you, Lola. Okay? I love you, so fucking much, and I’m just messing here, you know that, don’t you?”

  I nod, and he lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it gently, his eyes on mine as he does so.

  “I’m sorry, Evan. I don’t know where that came from.”

  “The man I was before, I’m not him anymore. And it was you who chased him away, Lola. You made him leave. And he isn’t coming back.”

  I smile, and I squeeze his hand a little tighter. “I know. And I love you too, baby. I love you, too.”

  “And that’s all that matters.”

  He lets go of my hand and sits back, closing the menu. And I feel so angry with myself, for showing that kind of emotion; does he really think I don’t trust him? Of course I trust him. It should be him who has a problem trusting me, given everything that happened before. But he’s never questioned that. I chose him, and he never questioned that again. And yet here I am, outwardly questioning him over some ridiculous hypothetical situation I’ve created in my own head. What the hell is wrong with me? Where did that sudden insecurity come from?

  “Lola? Look at me.”

  I slowly raise my gaze and his eyes meet mine. Dark, brooding eyes that I fell into that very first night I met him, and I don’t think I ever really recovered from that.

  “We’re gonna have dinner. We’re gonna talk about the Edward Gardner case, because that’s what we do. And then we’re gonna go home, you’re gonna get naked, and you’re gonna straddle me and ride me like the dirty bitch I want you to be once we’re behind closed doors. I want you, Lola. I don’t want anyone else. I haven’t wanted anyone else since that night I first sucked expensive bourbon from your perfect tits…”

  “Let’s go home.”

  He throws a handful of notes down on the table to cover our drinks, pushes back his chair, and grabs my hand.

  He’s with me.

  He’s with me.

  Evan

  Frank shuts the back passenger door and climbs into the driver’s seat, and I watch as she slides off her panties, tucking them into my pocket before she straddles me. We need this; this quick, hard, release fuck. Whatever happened in there, it turned me the hell on, and my cock’s just screaming to sink into her now.

  She reaches down, unzips me, takes me in her hand and I can’t stop the long, low groan escaping. And as she raises her hips slightly, then lowers herself back down I slide inside her, and that groan grows louder. I sink deeper into her as she rides me hard and heavy, my hands gripping her hips tight, her skin soft and smooth beneath my fingers. And it takes just seconds, of course it does, it was never going to be a long drawn out fuck. I’m coming before I can even get my head around the fact I’m screwing her in the back of my car, but realizing that just makes me come even harder, and she cries out as she feels her own climax kick in, and I watch as she leans back and touches herself, helping it all come to a crashing end. Jesus! And she thinks I’d want anyone else?

  She takes my f
ace in her hands and she smiles before she kisses me, deep and dirty, and I kiss her back. And she’s still grinding against me, she’s still wet, and I want her all over again, but we’re almost home now.

  I said it was business as usual at Cavendish King.

  The same can be said for me and Lola.

  This is what we do.

  And we’re damn fucking good at it.

  Lola

  He kicks the apartment door shut and slams me back against the wall, and I let him kiss me, I let him push against me, our bodies so close there’s nothing could get between them. I let that happen, for a couple of seconds. And then I push him away and walk into the living room, sliding off my jacket, unzipping my dress so it falls to the floor. I’m naked now, bar my heels, and I turn around and stand still and I wait for him to come to me.

  “You want me naked, right?”

  He slides an arm around my waist and pulls me against him, kissing me slow and deep as his hand falls onto my ass.

  “Always,” he murmurs, his hand splaying out against my skin, his mouth still touching mine. And I smile, and he smiles too, and he kisses me again, and again, I don’t want him to stop. “Turn around,” he whispers, and I close my eyes as I press my palms against the wall; feel him gently pull my hips back, his still-clothed body pressed against my naked one and I breathe in sharply as his hand rests on my stomach, his lips brushing my neck. I lean back against him, let his hand push my head back slightly as he continues to cover my neck in small, feather-light kisses. And then his hand drops, and I open my legs a little wider to let him in, gasping quietly as his fingers touch me, slide inside me, his other hand still on my neck. And he’s whispering things in my ear now that only people who trust each other this intimately would ever say. He’s promising me heaven, and I’ll probably get there, he keeps those promises.

  His thumb circles my clit and I gasp out loud as a wave of intense pleasure floods through me, causing what feels like a million goose bumps to break out and I groan loudly as he presses harder, thrusts deeper, until I’m coming all over his fingers, and he twists my head around slightly so our mouths touch, and he kisses me until I’m done, letting my moans and cries seep into him. And when it’s over he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him as he carries me into our bedroom, lays me down on the bed and flips me over onto my stomach. I rest up on my elbows and lift up my ass, thrusting it back toward him because that’s what he wants. And he leaves less than a heartbeat before he’s inside me again, his cock ramming into me from behind, and he’s grasping my hips and pulling them back against him as he takes every inch of sexual frustration out on me; slamming into me hard, fucking me like the whore he wants me to be, just for a few minutes. Because that’ll change, this show has more than one act.

  I grip the sheets tight as he rams into me again, so hard he jerks my body forward a good few inches, and I cry out as the most beautiful pain sweeps through me. It’s like he’s ripping me in two, and when he comes it’s fast and its brutal, I feel him, all of him, gushing out in a never-ending stream, but he isn’t done yet. I’ve just got to wait; make him want me again. Because he always does.

  He flips me back over and I kneel up, pushing him away from me before I climb off the bed and walk into our huge, open-plan living area, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. And he’ll follow me, of course he will.

  I look at him as he joins me. His shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows now, his tie completely discarded. And his eyes, Jesus, they bore into me with an intensity that’s already got my thighs aching all over again.

  He takes the glass from my hand and places it on the counter, and I look up into those deep, dark eyes, and I feel my head start to spin as he rests a hand gently against my hip, but that’s all. That’s all he does, his fingers splaying out only slightly. But it’s enough to make my skin burn, and I want him a million times more before we even think about eating or sleeping or anything that doesn’t involve his body inside mine.

  He leans in a little closer, but there’s still a tiny distance between us, and it’s so fucking hot, him being this close but not close enough. Not yet. All I can hear is his breathing, our hearts beating, nothing else is there to distract us. It’s just us.

  He moves his hand slightly, up over the curve of my waist until he reaches my breasts. He cups one, flicks his thumb over the nipple, and all the time his eyes never leave mine, and again I feel my skin start to burn, my breath catching in my throat as his thumb applies a little more pressure. And then he leans in even closer, his breath warm on my neck as his mouth touches my ear. “Outside,” he murmurs, sliding his hand down over my back and onto my ass before he pulls away from me and backs off toward the doors that lead out onto our terrace. And I don’t care that it might be chilly outside, I don’t care about anything, it can only heighten whatever shit he’s going to do to me out there.

  He opens the doors and steps outside and I run my fingers through my hair, shaking it out before I join him, the cool air immediately hitting my skin, but I don’t even feel it.

  His arm circles my waist and he pulls me against him, my fingers sliding into his hair as he kisses me, and he’s hard again, his cock pressing into me as the kiss deepens; his need for this growing. He wants to put on a show now, I get that. And sometimes he gets exactly what he wants. Sometimes.

  He pushes me back onto a low leather lounger, and I watch as he undresses. He knows I want him naked, too, at some point. I like to see him, all of him, not just his hard, impressive cock. And I open my legs and take him between them, skin against skin, fingers sliding together as he enters me slowly, his mouth touching mine, and I think we’re both ready for a calmer ride now; a slower pace. The game’s drawing to a close, we’re reaching the end, but we’re still not done. It’s not over. Not yet.

  I draw my legs up and pull them back, forcing him deeper inside me, and that unleashes a low groan from him that vibrates right through me as wave after wave of delicious tingles flood my body. The pain’s gone, the only thing I’m feeling now is a warm and beautiful release.

  His fingers squeeze mine tighter, and I jerk my hips up, angling myself slightly so I take him as deep as he can go, and the second that happens he hits that spot inside of me that kick-starts a climax that rocks every inch of me. And I grab onto him and I kiss him to stop me from crying out, and as I start to calm down he pulls me up, and I wrap my legs around his hips and look into his eyes as I ride him. Nobody’s gaze shifts, we stay focused on each other until I feel him still; feel him come, and even then our eyes remain locked.

  “You fucking kill me,” he breathes, his fingers gently digging into my thighs as he keeps me astride him.

  I smile and hook my arms loosely around his neck, resting my mouth against his as I speak. “You told me it was my job to keep you happy, Mr. King.”

  He laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound, deep and dirty, and it makes me shiver. People said we wouldn’t work; that it all happened too fast, and maybe it did. But not once have I regretted the decision I had to make that day.

  I made the right one.

  I chose Evan King.

  I chose this life.

  It’s all on me.

  Evan

  I watch as she walks back inside, swaying those hips, making me crazy all over again. I drop my head and clasp my hands together, and I take a second to get my breath back, to get it together because nights like this mess with my head so bad. What we do together, this is new to me. I’ve never felt like this, never wanted to do these things with anyone. Sex used to be nothing more than a release. And then came Lola.

  “You should put some clothes on. It’s getting cold out here.”

  I look up, and she’s standing in the open doorway, wearing one of my shirts. My beautiful girl. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I should.” I get up and walk over to her, sliding a hand down onto her ass as I pass. “I love you, Mrs. King.”

  She smiles, and it makes my heart beat a hundred times faster when she do
es that. “I love you, too.”

  She stands up on tiptoes to kiss me, and I hold her against me for a few seconds more. “Go pour us some drinks. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I let go of her and head into our bedroom, pulling on some jeans and a T-shirt. Sometimes it still knocks the breath right out of me when I think about how quickly that woman changed my life. It still scares me, at times, when I think about how close I came to losing her; losing this. Something I didn’t even know I wanted, until she came along and turned everything I knew on its fucking head.

  “Evan?”

  I swing around and I look at her, all tousled and beautiful. “Come here.”

  She walks over to me and I swing her into my arms, kissing her slowly, holding her tight.

  “Are you happy, Lola?”

  She cocks her head slightly and frowns, but then the smile returns and I feel my stomach flip, and that feeling is so fucking alien to me. I didn’t even know what that shit felt like, until she came along.

  “Yeah. I’m happy.”

  I smile back, and I push her against me and I kiss her again. “Good. That’s good. ‘Cause you kinda make me happy, too.”

  “Kinda?” She laughs in mock shock as she pushes me away, and we’re right back to where we need to be. “You can pour your own drink, mister.”

  She starts to walk away but she smiles at me over her shoulder, and I follow her out into the living room.

  She knows she makes me happy, too.

  She knows I wasn’t really all that happy before.

  She changed that.

  She changed me.

  She changed everything.

  Three

  Lola

  “Excuse me, is this Evan King’s office?”

  I look up to see a tall, smartly dressed dark-haired woman standing by my cubicle clutching an armful of files and a tan leather briefcase.

 

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