Defensive Heart: The Donnolleys, Book 2

by Dorothy F. Shaw

  “You can’t answer, can you? You don’t have a fucking answer. Dammit, Sonja. What the hell are we doing?”

  He couldn’t possibly understand what this was like for her and she wasn’t about to share it with him either. “Why is this so important to you? Why does it matter if we’re at my place or yours? Shouldn’t it matter we’re simply together?”

  “It matters. If you don’t know why then we have bigger problems than location.” He turned away, hailing for another cab.

  When he began to step away, a panic that she tried to ignore sped up her heart and she circled his arm in her hand. “Fine. You want to come to my house tonight? Then fine, we’ll go to my house.” A cab stopped, but Sonja stood still, waiting for him to turn to her and meet her gaze. “James?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I hate fighting with you.”

  She softened her gaze and gave him a small smile in hopes it’d be enough for him tonight. “For someone who doesn’t enjoy fighting with me, you sure do a lot of it.”

  He snorted before stepping away and opening the back door of the taxi. Holding his hand out for her, she took it and moved forward. He kissed her before she slid into the backseat and climbed in beside her. “Foreplay, baby.”

  “Sick, sick man.” Shaking her head, she gave the driver her address.

  He nuzzled her neck. “You love that I’m a sick man.”

  Sonja squeezed his thigh and he growled against her skin. A shiver ran though her and every nerve in her body snapped to attention. “Maybe.”

  He left her neck and stared at her in the dim light of the vehicle. “Thank you.” His words were soft and his warm breath feathered over her lips.

  He pressed a tender kiss to her mouth and swept his tongue inside. Sonja tried to suppress the moan bubbling up, but failed. Cupping his cheek in her palm, she deepened the kiss, needing more of him…like she always did. The kiss turned from sweet and soft to one of frantic need, and James slipped his hand between her legs and rubbed her clit through her pants.

  Her hips moved forward of their own accord, seeking more from him. Smoothing her palm up his thigh, she found him rock hard behind the line of his zipper. The fierce urge to reach inside and feel his thickness in her hand rose inside her like a tornado. She ran her nail down the outline. James groaned, stroking his deft fingers over her core.

  God help her, she wanted this man. If she needed to let him a little farther inside her world, into her home, to keep him, then so be it, she’d do it. She feared the chaos in her mind at the prospect of losing the independence she’d discovered, but she buried it because in the heat of the moment, nothing was better than this.

  Nothing was better than his tongue, his hands caressing her body, the feel of his naked skin against hers, or when he sank his beautiful length deep within her. Nothing. She’d deal with the consequences of her decision in the morning.

  He broke the kiss and moved his lips to her ear. “You’re wet for me.”

  Rocking her hips forward—the barest of movement in time with his strokes—she nodded, unable to speak for fear of her words coming out riding a moan.

  “Such a sweet pussy you have, Sonja. I’ve been thinking about how you taste on my tongue when you come for me, your legs shaking around my shoulders.” His breath was hot against her skin, his words a rumbling whisper.

  She was going to come right there in the backseat of a cab.

  “Come for me, mo chroí.” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, flicking his warm tongue over it and continuing to drive her higher with his fingers.

  Sonja ran her palm along his length. “James.” She bit her lip—so close to orgasm her head spun. A whimper escaped. Her channel clenched and spasmed, and her arousal coated her panties. “Oh God!”

  He stayed at her neck, and she stared straight ahead, catching a glimpse of the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. James pressed harder on her clit, circling the tight bundle of nerves faster.

  Sonja tensed, and her climax hit. Her head fell back and her breath punched out of her in short bursts. Whether it was the fact the driver knew what they were doing or simply that James could bring her to orgasm with mere touches and words alone, she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. She only knew her body was at his mercy, powerless to deny him this part of her.

  Not that she wanted to anyway.

  Jimmy paid the driver through the front passenger window. She’d given in and agreed to take him to her home. It was a step in the right direction, albeit a small one, but a step just the same. He’d take it. Making her orgasm in the cab had been the cherry on top of the concession she made. He planned to thank her good and proper once they got upstairs.

  Once in the elevator, Sonja hit the button for the fifteenth floor but stayed quiet. Figuring she might need the few minutes to compose herself from the orgasm, or possibly swallow the fact that she’d conceded to his request, Jimmy didn’t bother with small talk.

  The doors parted, and he followed her down the hall, the clicking of her red stilettos on the marble floor echoing around them. Anticipation burned hot in Jimmy’s gut—the chance to finally have a glimpse into her mysterious world, and also what he planned to do to her with her pretty feet still encased in those shoes, was more than he could bear.

  Unlocking, then opening the door, she stepped inside and tossed her keys into a bowl on an ornate sideboard in the entryway. Jimmy entered and glanced around, absorbing the space. The floor was polished hardwood parquet with decorative inlays made from a dark, cherry wood. A bright, cream paint, trimmed in white, coated the walls. Various classical artworks, displayed with accent lighting, decorated the long hall ahead of him. Small, yet opulent chandeliers hung from the ceiling every few feet, creating a dazzling display on the dark wood.

  Jimmy continued, just behind her, trying to process all he was seeing. Being a criminal defense attorney, and the owner/senior partner in her firm, he’d figured she had money. He just hadn’t realized how much. Her home was the very symbol of Upper East Side old Park Avenue money.

  Sonja stopped outside a set of closed double doors. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “I don’t suppose you have any Guinness, huh?”

  She laughed. “Probably not. I wasn’t expecting a visitor.”

  “I see.” He moved close to her and pulled her against him. “I guess I’ll have to bring some by for next time.”

  “So sure there’ll be a next time, are you?”

  “Very sure.” He nipped her bottom lip.

  Closing her eyes, she moaned and gripped his shoulders. “We’ll see.”

  “Show me your closet.” The shit-eating grin he held in place until she opened her eyes probably made him look like a tomcat, but he didn’t care. He really fucking did want to see her closet, or more importantly, her shoes.

  “What?”

  “I’m serious.” He rubbed the tip of his nose over hers. “I want to see your closet.”

  She laughed. “You are such a strange man.”

  “You say the sweetest things to me.” He kissed her again before taking a step back. “Which way to the Taj Mahal of shoes?”

  “Oh, I understand now. You want to see my shoes, hmm?” She took his hand in hers. “If you insist, James-the-artist.”

  “I do insist, Sonja-the-lawyer.” She led him back in the other direction past another closed door and stopped.

  “Please tell me you’re not going to make me model all of them for you.”

  He grinned, knowing the damn thing stretched from ear to ear. The idea of her modeling all her heels made him feel like a kid in a candy store. Screw lingerie—though he did love her in thigh-high nylons and a garter belt—high-heel shoes on a woman, who was otherwise naked, was all the lingerie he needed. Especially this woman. “Maybe.”

  She glanced at him and shook her head, almost like she’d read his mind
. Maybe she had. He was pretty sure his desire was stamped all over his face.

  Swinging the door wide, she stepped inside and he followed—Holy shit! What he’d seen of the house so far screamed elegant, but her bedroom dripped in it. The room was enormous, taking up at least the entire corner of the apartment. Plush, off-white carpeting blanketed the entire space. The one exterior wall was made up of three large windows, showcasing an impeccable view of the skyline. Heavy tapestry drapes hung to the sides of the frames.

  A settee, upholstered in the same material as the drapes, sat in the corner near the fireplace with a small side table situated next to it. A pale sage coated the walls and soft-white crown molding lined each wall where it met the ceiling. A mahogany dresser to the right of the entry, between it and another door, he assumed led to her closet or master bath, and the matching armor was stationed on the other side of the fireplace.

  The focal point was her four-poster king-sized bed, situated on the wall opposite the fireplace. The thick, pale-blush bedding and assortment of throw pillows complemented the drapes and the walls. Jimmy turned in a circle, taking in every inch of the room. This was the soft side of her he adored seeing and feeling. This was the tenderness she held at bay until he captured her in his arms and it came rushing forward.

  This was everything that was Sonja. And Jimmy loved what he saw.

  On the mantel were pictures, some small, others bigger. All in silver frames. He moved toward them, wanting to see what images were revered enough to be in her private space.

  “James.”

  The word held the tone of a command. Without a second thought, he halted his movement and looked over his shoulder at her. The expression in her eyes told him with no uncertainty to stop. She didn’t want him to look at the pictures. Disappointment bloomed in his chest, and settled like a rock in his stomach. And even though it pinched his ass to listen, he had far too much respect for her to push any more than he already had tonight.

  She held a hand out to him. “Come here, please.”

  Jimmy moved to her. “Thank you for bringing me here.” Slipping one arm around her waist, he buried the other in her hair, tilted her head back and kissed her. He didn’t give her time to answer, or time to question what his words of gratitude meant. He took what he needed. And what Jimmy needed was her.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sonja drowned in his kiss, his scent and his intoxicating presence. She wasn’t sure why she stopped him from looking at the pictures on her mantel, she just did. It had been hard enough to let him into her home, but having him in her bedroom was almost too much for her to bear. She was sure if she gave him any more, she’d lose control of everything that had started to make sense.

  She didn’t understand it completely, only knew she was overcome with a maelstrom of emotion powerful enough to take her to her knees. Sonja’s mind twisted around a barrage of memories: Her father’s constant disappointment in her, no matter how successful she was; Thomas’s consistent disregard for her wants, desires or dreams, and her inability to feel secure regarding anything or to stand up for herself.

  As if knowing her mind had gone into a state of pandemonium, James tightened his grip on her hair and deepened the kiss, curling his tongue around hers. Closing her eyes tight, she held on to him and fisted his shirt in her hands—a silent plea for him to save her. Save her from the memories, from the emotion swamping her and from herself.

  The rush of overwhelming feelings terrified her, threatening to take her under the surface. But whether she wanted it or not, losing herself in his kiss had become Sonja’s safe harbor. With her body pressed tight to his, warmth bloomed in her chest and spread outward through her limbs.

  James wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a casual fling. He wasn’t supposed to mean more. Sonja couldn’t allow herself to be irresponsible in such a way and lose the hard-won independence she’d gained. There was no room in her life for this man. No room for more than what he offered between the sheets. No—

  With a gasp for breath, she broke the kiss, jerked away from him and took a step back.

  He stared at her, his eyes glossy, his lips still wet. “Sonja?”

  “It’s too much. Too close,” she whispered before pressing her fingertips to her tingling mouth.

  “Shh. Don’t.” He reached for her. She took a step back, shaking her head. He frowned, a confused expression on his face. “Sonja. It’s okay.”

  “Too close, James.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t want things this close.”

  He sat on her bed. Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. After what seemed like an eternity he looked at her. “Why?”

  “It doesn’t matter why. It only matters I don’t want it.”

  “Bullshit.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You want it. You’re just too fucking scared to let yourself have it. Correction, let us have it.”

  “I’m not scared, James. I don’t have time for more than this. I don’t have room in my life for it.”

  “That’s bullshit too. Why are you making this so complicated? It doesn’t have to be.”

  She walked past him and into her closet. Slipping off her shoes, she placed them in their spot on the shelf. When she turned, he was standing in the doorway watching her. “What do you want me to say to you?”

  “I want you to answer my question. For fuck’s sake, Sonja, I want you to give us a chance.”

  “There is no us. I have a household and a law firm to run. I have a daughter to raise. I do not have room for an ‘us’.”

  He raised his arms out to his sides. “I’m good enough to fuck, but not good enough to be a part of your life, is that it?”

  “I never said you weren’t good enough. That’s not what this is about.”

  “Then what? You’ve got time to fuck me, just no room in your heart for me?”

  She shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it quite like that, but if that’s how you want to say it, yes.”

  “Wow.” He moved in front of her. “So you feel nothing for me?”

  Sonja shook her head. “I cannot give you what you want.”

  “This is fucking insane. I know you can.” He took a step closer, eliminating the space between them. “I know you have feelings for me. It’s written all over every damn inch of you when we make love.”

  James stood so close she was unable to look into his eyes without craning her neck. Refusing to give in, she stared at his shoulder and focused on tamping down the burn in her stomach. The words he spoke weren’t true. She cared for him, yes, but it wasn’t more than that. She didn’t have deep romantic feelings for him; she hadn’t allowed them. But there was no point in trying to convince him otherwise. Regardless of what he thought he saw, she was putting an end to it immediately.

  He grabbed her by the waist and yanked her against him. “Say something. Deny it, or admit it, but fucking say something!”

  Her breasts thumped against the hard contours of his chest and her breath came out in a rush. “I don’t have anything else to say. I’m not on trial here!” She glared up at him but then was struck silent. The feral look in his eyes penetrated to her core, inspiring an opposite effect than expected. I’m insane! Instead of being angry with him for yelling at her, and then manhandling her, Sonja’s body flooded with arousal and every inch of her skin tingled with the need to have him inside her.

  “Maybe you should be.” Though he’d lowered his voice, his tone was laced with fury.

  She shivered at the sound. Caught up in her addiction, Sonja was convinced she’d lost her mind again because, dammit, she needed her fix. Having so little self-control where he was concerned disgusted her. In order to keep from saying anything else, she bit her bottom lip. He dropped his gaze to her mouth, then back to her eyes. She didn’t care. It didn’t matter wha—

  “Come on, counselor. D
efend your case.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Mmm. Yes, now would be good.” His lips curled into an arrogant grin, and she wanted to slap the expression right off his face.

  Sonja tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. Damn him. “Let me go.” She gritted her teeth.

  “Ha. Not a fucking chance, babe.” James bent his head to kiss her.

  Fury boiled inside her veins, and before the process of thought and action connected, Sonja raised her hand and slapped his face.

  He reeled back and cupped his cheek in his palm.

  Oh shit! Oh God!

  Sonja covered her mouth with both hands. Had she really done that? Shame replaced the deep cauldron of fury, and she cringed. She couldn’t decipher the expression in his eyes either. She glanced away, unable to bear the sight. “I’m sorry. I think you should go.”

  Before she could react, James took hold of her waist and locked her against him again. “Not a fucking chance.” He pressed a hard kiss to her lips.

  She stiffened in his iron grip, but wasn’t capable of fighting him. The truth was, she didn’t want to fight him. She was too busy fighting herself. With a soft whimper, Sonja gave in to the insatiable thirst. The taste of him spread through her like warm honey and erased any lingering fight within her.

  This wasn’t giving in because it was just easier, like she’d done with everyone else in her life. No, Sonja gave in because he was right; she did feel more for him than she wanted, or ever intended to…even if she could only admit it to herself.

  She might really want him, but there was no way she’d actually keep him.

  James walked her backward and deepened the kiss, while his hands roamed up her rib cage, to her breasts. Sonja’s back hit the door to her bathroom, and she tugged at his shirt, needing his velvet skin beneath her hands. Frantic, their tongues in a tangle of lust, he did away with the button and zipper of her dress pants, and pushed his hand inside.

  A loud moan rippled from her throat when he found his target, rubbing over her clit and then slipped two fingers inside her. Sonja rose on tiptoe and her core clenched around the welcome intrusion.