“You wouldn’t be a dog in anything.”
Shelby bumped her shoulder against Allison’s. “It’s your day to shine. And I like this dress. It’s a bit conservative, but nothing I’d pick would work in a wedding anyway. Besides, Dallas will probably like it.”
“You going to sleep with him after the reception?”
The attendant suddenly took a few discreet steps back, taking an intense interest in a veil hanging on the wall.
“Of course not,” said Shelby.
“I think we should get you some killer underwear in case you change your mind. You know, conservative to siren with one little zipper.”
Shelby chuckled. “I’m not going to change my mind. I am strong.”
“You are misguided.”
“I want a job more than I want sex.”
Maybe. Hopefully. Please, oh, please, let her want the job more than she wanted sex.
“It is possible to have both, you know,” Allison pointed out.
“Not in this case.” Shelby turned to get a side view of the dress. “So, we’re gonna take these?”
“You sure about yours?”
“I’m positive.”
Allison grinned. “Let’s buy them.”
HAVING DECIDED that their own tuxes would work just fine for the wedding, Dallas and Greg were an hour early for their dinner with Shelby and Allison. To save time, the bride and groom had decided on a celebratory dinner with best man and maid of honor instead of a shower and a bachelor party.
Dallas had brought both gag sex gifts and kitchenware. He never would have thought of gifts at all, if Shelby hadn’t phoned him this morning with a list, saying she was too busy, and could he please sign both their names. He didn’t normally shop for women, but he’d somehow gotten into the habit of saying yes to anything Shelby wanted.
Though he had to admit, the gifts were a good idea. Even though it was rushed, he wanted Allison and Greg to have a fantastic wedding.
The men took a seat at the bar in The Library—the restaurant’s lounge. The room was heavily accented in wood. The lights were dim, with a yellow cast. Tufted armchairs and overstuffed couches surrounded low, maple-and-glass tables. The walls were decorated with bookshelves, following up on the theme of the name, and the windows were covered in wooden shutters.
“So, you haven’t figured out what Calloway is fishing for?” asked Greg after they’d each ordered a single malt.
Dallas shook his head. “Shelby fed him some more information yesterday. Nothing he doesn’t already know, of course. But it’s strange. She says he’s not getting nervous as the days go by. If anything, he’s relaxing.”
“So, the clock is ticking, and he’s happy you’re not finding whatever it is he doesn’t want you to find.”
“Exactly. I gotta figure there’s something else in the financial records. Maybe McQueen stole more money than we realized. So, is Calloway worried we’ll go for a higher judgment?”
“McQueen’s guilty. You’ve got him dead to rights on paper. And we’ll be twenty years getting a three-hundred-thousand dollar settlement out of him. Going for a higher judgment doesn’t even make sense.”
Dallas thanked the waiter as the man set the drinks down on the polished wood bar. “I hate things that don’t make sense.”
“Me, too.”
“Shelby’s been looking through the evidence boxes all week.”
“Shelby?”
“Yeah. I’ve also got the accounting team going through the computer system.”
“You have our receptionist doing financial research?”
“She’s very enthusiastic. And she’s very bright.”
“Ah.” Greg nodded. “Bright and enthusiastic. So that’s what they call it these days.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. She’s in my office doing research, nothing else. I don’t care what Margaret told you.”
“In your office?”
“It made the most sense.”
“Oh, man. You are so far gone over her.”
Dallas wasn’t about to deny it. Didn’t mean he could do anything about it. Didn’t mean it was coloring his judgment. “Do you blame me?”
Greg shrugged and took a drink. Canned classical music faded to the background as conversation from the growing predinner crowd grew louder. “I guess if you can’t have Allison…”
“You know I think of Allison as a sister.”
Greg chuckled. “Have I apologized for nearly taking your head off?”
“No need.”
“I wasn’t thinking straight. Even if you were screwing around with my fiancée, why would you send me pictures?”
“That would be pretty stupid,” Dallas agreed.
“I didn’t stop to sort through the logic,” said Greg. “Bad thing for a lawyer.”
“That’s the problem with women.”
“They mess with your logic.”
When the waiter signaled for another drink, Dallas nodded. “Take me and Shelby,” he said. “There’s no logic in me being attracted to her. She’s not my type. I don’t even know what it is that gets to me.”
“Animal lust.”
Well, sure. Dallas already knew that much. But it was more than just animal lust. He’d gone shopping for her at the housewares department for God’s sake.
“Must be the lust,” he said to Greg.
Greg clapped him on the shoulder. “Take it from me. Get it out of your system and carry on.”
Dallas had tried that. Not only hadn’t it worked, it had made things worse. “You expect me to take advice from a guy who nearly lost his fiancée last week?”
“She’s marrying me next week.”
Dallas held up his glass in a toast. “That she is. Congratulations.”
Just then, Allison appeared, slipping her arm beneath Greg’s and snuggling up next to him. “What are you guys talking about?”
“The Perth-Abercrombie case,” Greg answered easily.
“Yawn,” said Allison, hopping up on a stool.
Dallas quickly stood up and moved one place down so that Shelby could sit between him and Greg.
She smiled her thanks, and he felt a buzz.
“Find a dress?” Greg asked Allison.
“Sure did. Got one for Shelby, too.”
“Going to shock the congregation?” Dallas teased Shelby under his breath. Taking in her black velvet pants and the purple, corset-look blouse that was laced up the front, he wondered if she’d agree to have sex with him on the bar in say, ten seconds.
She leaned toward him. “You’ll like this one. It’s classy and conservative.”
Dallas didn’t doubt for a second he’d like it. Shelby could wear a burlap sack and he’d like it. In fact, he’d love it. Worship it. Rip it off her with his teeth.
Her bare shoulder brushed against him, and he had to fight to keep from looping his hands around her slender waist and pulling her into his lap. The woman was definitely a goddess.
“Care for a drink?” he asked, keeping both hands firmly on top of the bar and including Allison in the question.
“What are you guys having?” asked Allison.
“Scotch,” Greg answered.
Allison shuddered. “Yuck. I’ll take a vodka martini.”
“Scotch works for me,” said Shelby. “On the rocks.” Greg bent his head to talk to Allison, and Shelby grinned up at Dallas.
His gaze slid to her cleavage as he picked up their private conversation. “You don’t know the meaning of the word ‘conservative.”’
“You know, you’re way funnier than you let on.”
“That wasn’t a joke.”
A waiter appeared at Greg’s shoulder. “Mr. Smith? Mr. Williams? Your dinner table is ready.” He made a formal arm gesture toward the dinning room. “This way, please.”
Allison and Greg followed him.
When Shelby hopped down from the bar stool, Dallas couldn’t resist the temptation to put his hand on the small of her back, like he was being a gentleman, a
ssisting her, guiding her. In reality, he was feeling her hot skin through the tight purple satin and fantasizing about her without the velvet pants, without her panties, wearing just the corset blouse, with the laces dangling open.
He gritted his teeth.
“YOU SURE YOU DON’T MIND stopping at the office?” asked Shelby, feeling guilty for making Dallas go out of his way. After dinner, Allison and Greg had headed for Greg’s apartment, so Shelby was pretty sure she’d have Allison’s place all to herself well into tomorrow. Peace and quiet. Perfect for concentrating on the computer printouts.
“If you’re sure you want to work on a Sunday,” said Dallas.
Shelby nodded, turning in her seat, letting her gaze rest on his dark profile. “You know how it is when you can feel there’s something out there? Shimmering? It’s close, but it’s just out of reach?”
“That I do.” Dallas nodded, then he cleared his throat. “You want some help?”
The offer surprised Shelby. “You’d have time?”
He pulled into his reserved parking spot beneath a towering streetlight at the front of his office building. He killed the engine and opened his door. The smell of rain blew in from the lake as the garden junipers swayed in the midnight breeze.
“I’ll make time,” he said as he stepped out of the car, pushing the driver’s door closed behind him.
Shelby followed suit.
“The accountants aren’t getting anywhere,” he continued as they rounded the front of his car, “and Friday morning’s coming up fast.”
Shelby started up the sweeping, concrete staircase that led to the building’s main entrance. “You’ll be finished in court in time for the wedding?”
Dallas’s footsteps clicked behind her. “Should be no problem. You warm enough?”
“I’m fine.”
“Want my jacket?”
“We’re almost inside.”
He passed his electronic key in front of the sensor and the door pinged open. “Just as well. I kind of like your shirt.”
She smiled at him as he opened the door. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
They started across the tiled foyer, their footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. Frappino’s was dark, with only a small light glowing above the coffee machines. A lone security guard gave them a wave from his position behind the counter on the far side of the foyer.
“What?” asked Shelby. “No sarcastic remarks?”
“About what?”
“About what? About my clothes.”
“I like them.”
“That’s it? You just plain like them.”
Dallas punched the elevator button. “That’s what I said.”
The door slid open and she shook her head as she walked inside. “I can’t figure you out.”
“I’m pretty simple.”
“What? An Aries with Mars rising?”
He chuckled. “No. I’m a man watching a beautiful woman.”
She tipped her head and squinted at him. “You after something here?”
His eyes smoldered. “You know it.”
Her stomach fluttered, and a flush of desire rushed over her skin. The building suddenly felt very quiet and very empty. The elevator motor roared in her ears.
She dropped her voice. “Am I in danger here?”
“Depends on your definition of danger. You say no, and I’ll always respect that.” He let the thought trail off.
The elevator door glided smoothly open, and they stepped out into the night-lit hall.
“And if I said yes?” she asked bravely.
“Then I’m all over you.” He used another key and opened the Turnball, Williams and Smith door.
They walked in, and it clicked shut behind them.
“Dallas?”
“Yeah?” He continued down the hall, while she followed behind.
“What if I said maybe?”
He inserted a key in the door of his own office. “Red flag to a bull, babe.”
He opened the door, hit the switch for the overhead light and headed inside. Shelby paused in the doorway, emotions swirling around inside her.
If she said no, he’d respect that. Somehow the knowledge made him sexier. She’d never met a more disciplined man. If she wasn’t already lusting after his body, she’d sure start lusting after his principles.
Plain truth was, she wanted him.
All of him.
And she was tired of making them both suffer.
She flicked off the light. “Maybe,” she said to his broad back.
He froze.
It seemed like an eternity before he turned. “You serious?”
She blinked, focusing on his face as her eyes adjusted to the glow from the city lights that cascaded through the glass windows. “What do you think?”
A sizzling smile grew on his face, and he cocked his head sideways. “Drop your pants.”
Shelby grinned right back, tossing her hair as she sauntered toward him. She stopped only inches away, reaching for his tie, running the raw silk through her fingertips. “We have got to do something about this S and M inclination you’ve got going.”
“I don’t want to spank you, Shelby.”
“Good. ’Cause you’re not going to.”
His voice dropped to a husky rumble that more than turned her on. “See, I’ve had this fantasy going all night long…”
A burst of sexual energy bloomed inside her. Her voice turned breathless. “Yeah?”
He nodded, reaching for the ties on her blouse. “Yeah. It involves this shirt, and your skin, and nothing…much…else.”
Shelby’s breathing sped up as he loosened the ties, and adjusted her blouse over her breasts. Then he reached down and popped the button on her pants, the backs of his knuckles grazing her belly. The slide of the zipper echoed in the silent room. He kept her gaze trapped with the heat of his own.
He placed his warm, broad hands on the waistband of her pants, rolling them down, along with her panties, pushing everything off over her ankles.
Sexual desire crested in her bloodstream. Her skin was sensitized to his touch, her body drank in his scent, his low, mumbled words vibrated through her system.
He put his hands on her waist and turned her toward his desk. “Hop up,” he whispered, lifting her.
Her bottom settled on the cool, polished surface.
“Lean back on your elbows,” he coaxed.
A hint of nerves broke through the haze of arousal. “You don’t have a Polaroid in here, do you? Just because Allison—”
“No Polaroid.” He tapped a finger against the corner of his eye. “Just these.”
She slowly leaned back.
He smoothed her hair and pushed her knees slightly apart. Then he stepped away, drinking in the sight of her, his dark eyes smoldering with obvious hunger.
Goose bumps rose on her body. Fingers of sensation worked their way along her skin, as if he was touching her and not just staring. She’d never felt so flat-out desirable in her life.
After a long minute, he spoke in a hoarse whisper. “I don’t care what Greg’s got in that envelope. This is going to last me the rest of my life.”
Shelby waited for him to step forward, willed him to step forward. The waiting was exquisite agony and she bit down on her bottom lip, desperately holding back a moan. She wasn’t going to beg.
She saw his fists clench by his sides, and his own jaw tightened while they stared at each other in some kind of erotic standoff.
“Shelby,” he finally ground out.
“What?” she groaned.
“You haven’t said yes.”
She closed her eyes and collapsed back, her hot skin contracting against the cold wood. “Yes,” she nearly shouted.
He was there in an instant, bending over, his firm lips on hers, his mouth open, his hands stroking, fingers seeking, while her entire body convulsed into a quivering mass of need.
He shucked his clothes, and she frantically kissed his s
kin, stroked him, grasped him, pressed herself tight against him.
His telephone flew off the desk, along with file folders, business cards and a marble pen holder.
Naked, he rolled on top of her, tangling his hands in her hair, pressing her tight against the hard desktop, his hot flesh counterpoint to the cold wood. He kissed her deeply, pushed aside her blouse, cupped her breasts, circled her nipple, grazed her skin, pulling her closer and tighter against his body.
She couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t kiss deep enough, wanted to touch every inch of him all at the same time. After long, frantic minutes, he slowed his caresses. She stilled. Their rasping breaths synchronized, and they stared at each other in amazement as he pushed inside.
She felt her eyes flutter closed as sensation overwhelmed her. “Dallassssss…”
“You’re incredible.” He kissed her once. Then again. Then harder. He opened his mouth and his tongue sought the tender, sensitive places inside her.
Tension coiled and grew and expanded, until she thought she couldn’t stand it another second. She gripped the edges of the desk, arching toward him, urging him on, faster and harder, desperate for the feeling to burst, desperate for it to go on forever.
Sweat glistened between them. Dallas’s breathing grew deep and guttural. “Tell me…When…”
“Never,” she cried. “Always.” She hung on.
“Now!” The word was torn from her lips.
Dallas groaned and his body convulsed. A sunburst bloomed on the insides of her eyelids. Heat shot through her, then their sweat turned to cool rain as the world slowly righted itself and the storm subsided.
The first thing she became aware of was Dallas’s heavy breathing. She savored the weight of his body. Felt his lungs push against her chest with every breath.
She inhaled his essence, tasted his salty skin, savored his heat between her thighs, and tightened her arms around him for a long, last shudder of ecstasy before reality crowded in.
“You do realize…” She pushed some wayward strands of her hair from where they tickled her eyelashes. “We’re officially having an affair.”
“I know,” he agreed, not making any move to get off her. “But we have six more times before it turns into a relationship.”
Shelby pulled her head to one side so she could look at him. “I like the way you think, Williams.”
Out Of Order Page 14
