Protecting Justice (The Justice Series Book 4)

by Adrienne Giordano

  “I did try to stop him and he didn’t listen, but that’s not the point. Don’t spin this like you would one of your client’s problems.”

  Okay, that stung. But she didn’t stop touching him. She wasn’t backing down.

  Standing to her full height, she was glad she still had her heels on. He towered over her by a few inches but she was close enough to nearly meet him nose for nose. This would have to do.

  She held tight to his hand, even when he tried to pull away. “I know what you’re going through. I’ve been there, believe me, with a similar situation and it killed me for years. I know that there are some things you can’t forget, you can’t take back. No matter how much you wish things were different and you flagellate yourself over them, they are still there. Little demons waiting to rip at your heart and eat your soul every time you start thinking about the what-ifs. You blame yourself and those demons love that shit. That’s what keeps them strong.”

  His gaze bounced around her face, her hair, anywhere but her eyes. “Tony, you can’t give into them,” she said, forcing him to look at her. “One way or another, you learn to move around those demons when they pop up. You tell them to get lost because what you do today matters, not yesterday. What happened yesterday is in the past and the only person dwelling on it is you. You can’t change it, but you can make a difference today. Learn from the past and all that cliché stuff and forgive yourself. You go over, under, or around those demons, but you get through them one way or another and keep helping the people who need you. Keep loving the people who love you.”

  He started to move away. “I appreciate the pep talk, but—”

  She clamped onto his hand and jerked him back. His chest crashed into hers. “Shut up,” she said. “I’m not done.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched and he let out a long-suffering sigh as if he were merely tolerating her, but she didn’t care. She had something to say and he was damn well going to listen to her.

  “I didn’t know the judge personally, but I do know from all accounts that he was a man who lived his life the way he wanted. No regrets. He wouldn’t want you struggling with this, Tony, and making yourself miserable. He would want you to move on and live with no regrets like he did.”

  A muscle in his jaw moved but he didn’t look at her. At least not for a long minute. When he did drop those sexy dark eyes down and meet her gaze, she saw a hint of challenge, but also of acceptance. She’d hit the nail on the head.

  “He was like a father to me.”

  The judge. His uncle. Both father figures. “I get that. And now you honor his importance in your life by living the way he showed you—by his example.”

  That muscle in his jaw went a little crazy again, as if he were grinding his teeth to keep from spewing something. His gaze dropped to the floor, long, dark lashes obscuring her view of his eyes.

  For the first time in a long time, she wanted to wrap her arms around someone. Hug them. God help her, she wanted to fix him, even if it meant nothing but hard, fast sex to make him forget the pain for a few minutes.

  Or a few hours. She was good with either.

  Gently, she brought her other hand up to caress his face, lingering on that muscle in his jaw. It would be so easy to kiss him, to lean in and close that last little bit of distance between them…

  Tony grabbed her wrist and jerked her hand away from his cheek. His other hand went around her waist and he tugged her forward, her breasts smooshing up against his chest once more as he drew her up those last few inches and put his face right in front of hers. The edge was back in his eyes. A boatload of pain too. “Don’t do that, Fallyn, unless you want trouble.”

  She knew that pain. Had felt it a time or two herself. “Let me help you.”

  “I’m not one of your clients.”

  “I never said you were.”

  His dark eyes held hers, scanning, searching. For what she wasn’t sure. Permission to let their hot, hot chemistry out of its cage? To shut off their client/bodyguard relationship for a little while and just be a man and a woman who wanted each other?

  “I don’t need to be psychoanalyzed,” he ground out. “I don’t need fixing.”

  “Good. I’m not a therapist. Doesn’t mean I don’t understand what you’re going through or that I can’t tell you to stop beating yourself up over what happened to the judge.”

  “Are you going to shut up and kiss me or talk me to death?”

  Well, when he put it that way. She tipped her lips up, an open invitation. “Do you really need to—?”

  Message received. His lips crashed down on hers, sucking the breath out of her. She couldn’t move, his arm holding her against his body, his hand locked around her wrist as he bent her backward from the force of his kiss.

  But she didn’t want to move away. She wanted to be his. Wanted that deep satisfaction of making him forget everything for a few mind-blowing minutes. Lifting her free hand to the back of his neck, she ran her fingers through his soft hair, tugged a little.

  He broke the kiss, his eyes downcast again. “Wait.”

  Fallyn’s heart sank as they both panted like runners for a moment in silence. She knew what was coming even before he said it. She wasn’t his type. He never mixed work and pleasure. Any excuse he could come up with to make her back off.

  She scared men, plain and simple. The harder and stronger they were, the more she scared them. “What’s wrong, Tony?”

  He completely let go of her, stepping back with his hands in the air. “This is a bad idea.”

  The sudden loss of his presence left Fallyn off balance in more ways than one. His touch, his heat, his very power gone, creating an ache between her legs and in her chest. “I want you,” she said. “You want me. Why is that a bad idea?”

  His eyes finally met hers. “Tell me why you don’t like to be touched.”

  What? Where had that come from? “I was just touching you. Obviously, I do like being touched. By the right person.”

  His eyes narrowed, causing little crinkles at the corners. “Right person?” He shook his head and laughed under his breath. A derisive laugh. “I’m not the right person for you.”

  She kissed him lightly on the jaw where his muscle was going crazy. “Sorry, but I get to decide who’s right for me, not you.”

  He took a step back, still keeping his hands in the air but grinding his teeth again as if willing himself not to touch her. “Neither one of us in a good spot right now. Sex only complicates things. I won’t take advantage of you.”

  She couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. “You really think any man could take advantage of me? Ever?”

  “You’re still processing your sister’s death. I get it, you want to blow off steam and have some fun. Get away from murder and conspiracies and the shit in your head. I could use a little of that myself, and honestly, I may self-implode if I don’t get inside of you soon, but that would be a huge mistake, and I don’t need anymore mistakes of that magnitude.”

  “Having sex with me would be a huge mistake? Boy, you really know how to charm a girl.”

  “I’m being realistic.”

  “You’re being stupid.” She stepped forward and trailed her hand down the buttons of his shirt to his waist, tugged the white shirt free from his pants. “I’m not some helpless girl you, or anyone else, can take advantage of because I’m grieving for my sister, and you know it. I think you’re scared and you’re using that as an excuse not to follow wherever this leads.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  She shrugged, unclasping the top of his pants. Her self-control had seen it limits. If he didn’t take her in the next thirty seconds, she was going to implode right there along with him. And where was the fun in that? “Take it however you want to, but let’s do this.”

  He grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the floor with one arm as he backed her against the wall. She hit so hard, the picture hanging three feet over, bounced and nearly fell off. “I’m going to
make your world spin.”

  Pinned to the wall, she wrapped her legs around him and tilted her head back as his lips went to her neck. Finally. If her instincts were right, and they always were, Tony knew how to make a woman very, very happy.

  He licked her skin, bit her earlobe. The sharp sensation went straight to that spot between her legs and made her throb with need. He was strong, holding her up with no problem as his hands worked under her silk shirt and cupped her breasts through her lace bra.

  “Hell, yes,” she breathed as he tweaked her nipples, his erection straining between her legs. She clasped her legs tighter around him. “I want you, Tony. All of you. Don’t hold back. I won’t break.”

  He stopped for a moment, nestling his face against her neck, his big body tense with unspent desire, warm breath raising gooseflesh on her skin. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, ran her fingers through his short hair. His fingers dropped to the hem of her skirt and he shimmied up the material, hands brushing her thighs and pausing for a moment on the top her stockings.

  “Jesus.” He let out a string of curses. “If I’d known you were wearing this,”—his fingers traced her garter—“I would have imploded for sure before I got my hands on you.”

  Ah, a lingerie man. She’d seen him staring at her heels earlier, gaze following the contours of her calves. “If I’d known that’s all it would take to get you inside me, I’d have skipped the talk and went right for the strip show.”

  He moaned and released her, setting her feet on the floor. Before she could protest, he reached behind her, unzipped her skirt and let it fall.

  His gaze dropped with it, taking a long, slow, agonizing stroll up her legs and stopping at her panties. He touched her thigh, letting his fingers caress the nylon before heading for the silk. She was wet and ready and sucked in her breath when he parted her folds with his expert touch.

  He kissed her, teasing her with his tongue. His thumb found that sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs and did the same thing there. Teasing, stroking, building a fire inside her. Fallyn parted her legs, giving him better access.

  His lips, his tongue, this fingers…they all led her to the edge of her climax, his strokes between her legs becoming harder, faster. She moved with the rhythm, grabbing onto his upper arms and arching her back as he took her over the edge.

  Her vision blurred, whited out, tremors racking her body. He caught her as her knees gave out. Held her. When the orgasm receded, he carried her to the couch.

  She was still shaking from head to toe. Tony kissed her deep, running his hands up and down her legs.

  A blaring came from the coffee table—her phone. The tone was a familiar one that she hadn’t heard in a while, interrupting her bliss as Tony drew back.

  Cracking an eye open, she cut her gaze to the side. All her muscles tensed when she saw the caller ID on her screen.

  White House.

  Tony saw it too, his face going stormy as he handed it to her. “Guess you probably want to take this.”

  She could barely sit up, but she managed to cling to him as she answered and tried not to sound out of breath. “Fallyn Pasche.”

  “Ms. Pasche,” the woman on the other end said. “Please hold for the president.”

  Chapter Ten

  Fallyn’s hand shook as she held the phone to her ear. Every cell in her body was cheering after Tony had worked his magic on her. Her blood pumped faster, her pulse dancing after the rush.

  But all of that didn’t matter as her bliss was cut short.

  “Fallyn?” President Abraham Nicols spoke in her ear. “I’m glad I caught you.”

  Tony held her by the arm but Fallyn shooed him away. When speaking to a powerful man, you needed to exude self-confidence and competence. Lying on the couch enjoying a buzz from your latest earth-shattering orgasm wasn’t going to get the job done.

  Stand up, chest out, breathe deep. “Mr. President. So good to hear from you.”

  Tony finally moved out of her way and Fallyn got to her feet. Her legs were shaky and her damn heels were too high, throwing her off balance. One ankle gave out and she toppled back onto Tony’s lap.

  He chuckled while helping her upright once more, pinching her ass in the process. She slapped his hand away and marched a few steps out of his reach. In the mirror over the desk, she caught sight of her reflection.

  Thank God, Nicols hadn’t FaceTimed her. Her hair was a hot mess, and her blouse was half unbuttoned, revealing her lacy bra. Her skirt was in a puddle on the floor and she’d lost her underwear between the wall and the couch. Her stockings and garter were still in place, but by the look on Tony’s face, they wouldn’t be for long. He’d slouched back into the couch, throwing his arms out across the back and watching her like a hungry man eyeing a juicy steak.

  The shiver of anticipation ran down her spine. “What can I help you with, sir?” she asked, trying to concentrate.

  Nicols gave a tight sigh. “I know this is a difficult time for you, Fallyn, but we need to talk.”

  The tone of his voice reminded her of her father when he was disappointed with something she had done. She knew that tone well. Before she could check her response, she threw her shoulders back. Exude confidence. “Of course, sir. About what exactly?”

  “I don’t wish to get into it over the phone.” Curt. Annoyed.

  Hmm. “All right. I can swing by the White House first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Now would be better.”

  Now? Fallyn bit her bottom lip. Telling the president no held appeal, but no one told the leader of the free world no. “I’m in a…a meeting. Just wrapping up, in fact.” Tony grinned at her as she glanced at her watch and hustled over to pick up her skirt. She flipped him off while assessing the damage. The silk/linen skirt was too wrinkled to salvage. She would have to find an entirely new outfit. Plus traffic would be a bitch. “I can be there in, say, an hour?”

  That was cutting it short and she was definitely feeling cheated out of spending the rest of the afternoon in bed with Tony. The night still held possibility though.

  “That won’t be necessary,” the president said. “I’m downstairs.”

  Fallyn stopped mid-stride toward the bathroom. “I’m sorry. It sounded like you said you’re downstairs.”

  That brought Tony to his feet. He made some gesture Fallyn didn’t understand and she turned away from him. “Downstairs, as in the hotel lobby?” she reiterated.

  “I’m in my car. I’m sending a Secret Service agent up to your room to escort you.”

  Fallyn nearly dropped the phone. She did drop the skirt. “Oh no. That won’t be necessary, sir. Really. I’ll be down in a…in a minute.”

  “Very good.” The line went dead.

  Fallyn whirled on Tony. “Holy shit. The president is downstairs and wants to talk.”

  “I gathered that.” Tony hustled her toward the bathroom. “About what?”

  “He wouldn’t say.” She closed the bathroom door and went to work cleaning herself up as best she could. She pulled on the skirt, regardless of the wrinkles, and ran a brush through her hair. “Do you think he’s gotten wind of our little investigation?” she called through the door.

  “Only if that rat, Blake, told him. Who else knows?” Tony said.

  Carl and Jordan knew she was looking into the drugs in Heather’s system, but they had no clue about what was going on with Senator Oren or Fallyn and Tony’s theory about Ryan Nicols’ possibly being involved.

  Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen from Tony’s kisses. At least, she didn’t need to fix her makeup. She buttoned her blouse and found clean underwear. Smoothed a few of the wrinkles out of her skirt. All in less than two minutes.

  “How does he know you’re staying here?” Tony asked as she opened the door.

  “No idea.” She marched past him, grabbed her trench coat, and tugged it on. The coat would cover her
wrinkled clothes, thank God. She stuck her phone in the coat pocket and faced him. “How do I look?”

  His face said, like a woman I want to fuck, but he kept that statement to himself. “Fine.”

  Fine? Really, that was the best he could do? Whatever. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  He made his way to the door and opened it for her. “I’m going with you.”

  She sighed as she went past him, knowing that any argument she threw out would be vetoed. “Are you going to climb into the presidential limo with me as well?”

  “If necessary.” He closed the door behind them, then grabbed her hand and drew her close before she could walk away. “Make it quick, okay? I’ve got a woody that needs attention.”

  Leave it to him and his smart-ass mouth to make her laugh and release the tension between her shoulder blades. With her free hand, she reached down between them and gave him a little squeeze. “Believe me, I’d love nothing better than to stay in the suite with you and give you all the attention you want. In fact, the President of the United States is probably the only man alive at this moment who could keep me from ravaging your body.”

  Tony snickered. “Second fiddle to POTUS. Excellent.”

  “You’re not playing second fiddle. I have no intention of fucking the president, so believe me when I say, your fiddle will be first and foremost in the spotlight when I’m done talking to him.”

  She gave him another little squeeze, winked, and headed for the elevator.

  He didn’t say anything, helping her inside, but once the doors shut, he backed her up against the wall and kissed her silly.

  When she emerged from the elevator on the ground floor, she’d nearly forgotten the president and his order. That’s what Tony and his damn kisses did to her. He made her forget everything else.

  Which wasn’t good. She needed to be on top of her game at the moment. Not sidetracked by a man who probably went through women like toothbrushes.

  A Secret Service agent met them at the hotel lobby door. He was of medium height, medium coloring, and wore dark glasses to hide his eyes. “Gerard,” the agent said, extending his hand. “Haven’t seen you in ages. How you doin’, man?”