by Lisa Childs
He reached out again but not for the glass. Instead, he skimmed his fingertips over those long, bare legs of hers. Her skin was so damn silky, her legs so toned. She must have been a runner. He wanted those legs wrapped around his waist or arched over his shoulders or...
“You said you weren’t propositioning me for sex,” she reminded him.
“That was stupid,” he admitted. “I should have been.”
“Too late now.”
“You said I had a chance of convincing you to accept that proposition.” A better chance than getting her to work with him on a political campaign. Now he had some idea why.
If only he’d done a little more research on her before coming up with his plan...
But after that kiss and the comment she’d made before leaving his office, he’d changed his plan. He was much more excited about this new one than he’d been about pretending to run in an election.
He trailed his fingers from her calf to her thigh and toyed with the edge of her silk gown. Or was it just a long, loose pajama shirt? Did she wear anything underneath it?
He wanted to find out, so he moved his fingers up a little higher. And he held his breath, waiting for her to stop him. She could—with just a look. Her icy ones were capable of freezing anyone.
Except maybe him...
CHAPTER FOUR
TREVOR SINCLAIR WAS so damn hot with his thick, unruly hair, with his chiseled features, with his Olympian’s body. If he wasn’t this gorgeous, he wouldn’t affect her like he did.
Allison would be able to retain her professionalism. But she’d lost that this morning in his office. Hell, she’d lost it a month or so ago when she’d confessed to her hatred of lawyers.
She was surprised they hadn’t fired her firm then. But he’d offered her a new assignment. One she probably should have taken.
She hadn’t lied when she’d said she’d rather accept his proposition for sex. Especially now.
With his fingertips sliding up her bare thigh.
Her skin tingled, and a delicious little shiver quivered inside her, making her nipples tighten even more than they had when she’d caught him staring at them. At her...
“So will you?” he asked as he moved his hand even higher until he touched the curve of her hip beneath her nightgown.
She’d changed into something comfortable because she hadn’t been expecting company.
Liar...
The little voice inside her head always called her on her bullshit. She’d known, or maybe she’d just hoped, that Trevor Sinclair would seek her out after the comment she’d made. That he would accept the challenge to change her mind.
From the powerful corporations he’d taken on in the past, he clearly knew no fear. Which was a thrill for her since most men were too frightened of her and her ice queen reputation to even approach her.
While she had purposely created that persona, sometimes it served its purpose too well. Sure, she didn’t want any messy personal entanglements, but she wouldn’t mind mixing a little pleasure into her business-only life. If his reputation was real and not just like hers, Trevor Sinclair might be able to give her that pleasure she’d been denied too long.
“Will I what?” she asked, and she moved, uncurling her legs to stretch them out behind where he sat on the edge of the couch.
“Accept my proposition.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going to play politics with you, Trevor.”
But despite her reservations, she was intrigued at the thought of making him into a viable candidate. It would be relatively easy.
“How about just playing with me?” he asked. “How about accepting my proposition for sex?”
She leaned back and studied him through her lowered lashes. Knowing he enjoyed a challenge, she challenged him with, “Convince me.”
His wide mouth curved instantly into that wicked grin of his. How could a man with a grin that naughty ever inspire confidence in voters?
That wasn’t her problem, though. She wasn’t going to help him. She wasn’t mixing business with pleasure. She just wanted pleasure from him.
It had been too long for her. That was probably why that kiss had affected her so. Once she had Trevor Sinclair, once she experienced his legendary sexual prowess, she hoped she’d be so satiated that she wouldn’t want him anymore.
“What will it take to convince you?” he asked.
“Not an argument,” she warned him. “I don’t need words.” She heard enough of them, used enough of them herself. “I need action.”
She needed him. Her body was already beginning to pulse and throb in all the most intimate places.
His already-wide grin widened more, and he chuckled. But he heeded her warning and didn’t talk. Instead, he touched.
He skimmed his fingers up the curve of her hip to her waist and then over her rib cage. She sucked in a breath as he neared one of her breasts. But he stopped beneath it. He leaned forward until their mouths nearly met. But he stopped again before their lips touched.
She smiled at his teasing. To show him she was unconvinced, she yawned.
And he laughed. She felt his breath against her lips and could almost taste the wine he’d drunk from her glass. Then his mouth covered hers, and she could definitely taste the wine. But it wasn’t as rich as the flavor that was distinctly his alone.
He nibbled on her lips, parting them, and he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid in and out of her mouth—like she wanted it sliding in and out of her.
She shifted against the soft cushions of the couch. And his hand moved. He slid it up and finally cupped her breast in his palm. There were calluses on his hand, probably from weight lifting. All the Street Legal partners looked like they spent a lot of time at the gym but most especially Trevor and Stone.
Those calluses felt amazing against her nipple. Pleasure streaked from it down to her core where her pulse had begun to pound frantically.
A moan slipped through her lips and into his mouth. The kiss went on and on—open mouth to open mouth, tongues mating. It was the hottest kiss she’d ever had. But she needed more than kisses.
Trevor’s hand moved on her breast, sliding over and over it until his thumb brushed across her nipple. He stroked it and then his other hand moved, sliding under her nightgown, as well. But this one stayed below her waist. First, his fingers stroked her thigh, caressing the smooth skin on the inner side before moving up. He eased his fingers beneath her silk panties and stroked over her core.
She gasped at the sensations streaking through her. Then she moved, parting her legs for him. He eased one finger inside her while his thumb rubbed her clit.
She moaned and dropped back against the couch cushions, away from his kiss. So he moved his mouth lower, over her throat. His tongue flicked across her pounding pulse. Then he pushed up her nightgown and closed his mouth over the nipple he’d teased to tautness. He pulled at it with his lips while he moved another finger inside her.
She panted for breath as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level inside her. She needed a release. She needed him. Desire overwhelmed her.
But before she could reach for him, he was moving lower again. And his mouth touched her core. His tongue flicked across her clit—back and forth—teasing her as he stroked his fingers in and out of her. Then he moved his tongue inside her, too.
And she arched up—against his wide, wicked mouth. Finally, the pressure broke as an orgasm shuddered through her. She screamed with pleasure and dropped back against the couch again, her body shaking from the force of the orgasm and the power of the desire that burned between them.
But despite that orgasm, the desire hadn’t burned out. It still burned inside her. She wanted more.
* * *
Trevor’s heart pounded hard in his chest, and his entire body ached with tension—sexual tension. He licked the t
aste of her pleasure from his lips and asked, his voice gruff, “Was that enough convincing?”
He was so damn tense he felt like he might shatter into a million pieces if he didn’t get a release like the one he’d just given her. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone the way he wanted her.
“You may have overplayed your hand,” she said as she panted for breath.
He chuckled. “Oh, no. I have a lot left to show you,” he promised. A lot he needed to show her. Now. “So do you accept my proposition?”
She narrowed her eyes and studied his face, as if debating. If she sent him away now, he’d know that she really was an ice queen, if she could be that cruel. It wasn’t just a persona or an act. She was really cold and heartless.
Her lips curved into a slight smile.
And his heart beat even harder because he had no idea what she was going to do. He couldn’t argue with her and not just because she’d told him he couldn’t. No meant no to Trev.
But was she saying no?
That slight smile curving her lips was just a little too sexy for him to believe that she could turn him away now, knowing that he was as desperate for release as she had been moments ago.
Before he’d given it to her...
He wanted to give it to her again. “What do you say, Allison?”
Finally, she nodded.
And he reached for her.
But she grabbed his arms, holding him back. “But it’s just sex,” she said.
He nodded. “I know. No politics.”
Her smile widened. “Yes, no politics but no emotions, either.”
He furrowed his brow in confusion. Emotions? They’d said nothing about emotions. Trev had taught himself years ago to never feel those again. To never get attached to anyone.
It only led to disappointment and pain.
She laughed. “Good. You look as appalled as I am at the thought of getting emotionally involved.”
He shuddered and it wasn’t entirely feigned. “Usually I’m not on the receiving end of that warning, though,” he admitted. That was what had taken him aback.
“You give it,” she said.
“And now I want to give it to you,” he said. And he reached for her again.
She didn’t hold him back this time, not even when he scooped her up in his arms and stood up. She just giggled. “What are you doing?”
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked.
She gestured toward the windows. “Nobody can see us...if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He knew that since the penthouse was on the top floor of a very tall building. “I’m not worried about being seen,” he assured her. “I’m worried about having enough room. I hope you have a very big bed.”
“Just a single,” she said. But he heard the humor in her voice; she was teasing.
He would have laughed, had he not been so desperate for a release. “Do you have carpet on the floor?” he asked.
“Marble,” she said. “Hard and cold.”
Now he laughed despite himself, despite the desire he felt for her. “Come on, Allison, stop torturing me.”
She had slung her arm around his shoulders. Now she moved her hand to his nape, running her fingers up into his hair. “Torture?” she asked. “Now, that’s intriguing.”
“You are one damn scary woman,” he remarked. But he didn’t care. He wanted her too badly.
Finally, she relented and pointed toward the end of the living room. He carried her across it to a short hall, onto which there were three doors. “Which one?”
She arched a red brow. “Should I make you choose? And if you choose incorrectly, you have to go home?”
He groaned. “I knew I should have stopped sooner.” Because now she didn’t need him as intensely as he still needed her.
Unless.
He moved the hand he held beneath her legs, sliding his fingers up.
And she shivered. “Okay, that door.”
He pushed open the one she indicated. But he wasn’t sure if she’d told the truth. The room was so dark, he could see nothing inside it. “Is this a torture chamber?” he wondered.
Maybe she was into S&M. He could easily picture her in dominatrix leather with a whip. But he wasn’t about to be her or anyone else’s submissive.
She reached out and hit the wall, and lights came on, but it was just a faint yellowish glow from the chandelier over a king-sized platform bed. Thick, dark gray drapes covered the entire wall that must have had the same tall windows of the living room.
But he was focused on that bed. That very big bed...
“Thought it was a single,” he said.
“Must be the wrong room,” she replied.
But through the open door to the walk-in closet he could see her navy blue dress lying on the thick gray carpet. It was a deep gray, like the walls, so dark it was nearly black.
“No cold marble, either,” he pointed out.
“I must have been remembering another room...”
In another apartment. Apparently, this one wasn’t really hers. She’d claimed her name wasn’t on the deed. But then Trev didn’t even know her real name.
Should he be doing this? Having sex with a woman he didn’t even know?
He wasn’t the indiscriminate lover his reputation made him out to be; he was much more careful when he chose lovers. Like her, he didn’t want anyone getting emotional over him. He didn’t want any messy entanglements.
But because she didn’t want emotions involved, he was safe with her. Well, he would have been had she not been the mole. Maybe that made her even safer, though, because he wasn’t about to fall for the mole.
As if he’d ever fall for anyone...
He snorted. “Maybe I should leave, then.” He dropped his arm from beneath her knees so that she slid down his body. The nightgown bunched up between them, leaving her lower body bare but for the silk panties he’d pushed aside once already. He moved his hands to her hips as if to push her away. But before he did, he slid his palms down over her ass.
She laughed and said, “Well, you know where the door is.”
Yes. He didn’t have to worry about her acting like some women had in his past and in his partners’ pasts. She wasn’t going to get clingy.
While she didn’t cling to him, she leaned against him, arching her hips against his erection.
He groaned as desire overwhelmed him. She was so damn sexy. There was no way in hell he would be able to walk away from her. He lifted her again, but just enough for her core to rub over his erection.
She moaned now. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she murmured, “I thought you were leaving.”
With one hand, he clutched her butt, holding her against him. With the other, he pulled her nightgown over her head. Her red hair tumbled around her bare shoulders, and she shook it back. And as she did, she arched her body. He lowered his head to her breasts, teasing one taut nipple with his tongue.
And she moaned again.
“Do you want me to leave?”
She didn’t answer. So he nipped lightly on that nipple with his teeth. She cried out, but it was a cry of pleasure. Her fingers clutched his hair, holding his head to her breast.
But his legs began to shake. Not from her weight. Despite her height, she didn’t weigh much, at least not to him. He and Stone regularly met at the gym and tried to outdo each other lifting.
She was light compared to what he usually lifted.
She was hot, too, so hot that he could feel the heat of her core through his fly. He needed to be buried inside her. Now.
So he carried her to that bed and lowered her down to it. The duvet was something soft, but like the walls and carpet it was nearly black.
There was nothing girly about Allison McCann’s bedroom. He liked that; he didn’t feel like
a bull in a china shop like he had in some other women’s bedrooms. There was nothing breakable in here.
Not even Allison...
And if he was ever going to prove she was the mole, he needed to break her. Maybe he could torture the truth from her.
He followed her down onto the bed and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her deeply before moving his lips down her throat.
Her pulse pounded wildly again. She was as excited as he was.
And she was needy again. Her fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans before tugging it loose. Then she lowered his zipper. She pushed aside his underwear and freed him from his boxers.
And he groaned.
She was torturing him with her touch as she slid her hand up and down the length of his pulsating cock.
“Allison...” he said, her name a growl coming deep from his throat.
She laughed.
But he was stronger than she was. He managed to pull back and free himself from her grasp. Then he lowered his mouth from her throat to her breasts. And he teased them with his kisses, with the flick of his tongue.
She arched up from the mattress and murmured his name. And he knew he’d built that pressure inside her again, the same pressure that threatened to shatter him if he didn’t release it soon.
His blood pounded in his ears, rushing through him from his madly beating heart. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone the way he wanted her. Was it because she was the mole? Because he knew he was safe having sex with her? Neither of them could get emotionally invested.
And that freed him to just enjoy it.
To enjoy her.
He moved his hand between her legs, beneath her panties. When he stroked his fingers over her core, he found her wet again—ready for him.
So ready...
His cock throbbed with the desire to feel that wet heat of her core. He needed to bury himself inside her. So he stood up.
And she cried out in protest.
Maybe he could have tortured information from her then. She wanted him as desperately as he wanted her. But because that desperation gripped him, he could think of nothing but taking her.