by Lana Lachlan
“What’s your news?” Ophelia asked unenthusiastically.
Lily handed Ophelia a glass of wine before snuggling into Ophelia’s red beanbag. “You go first. How’s the preparation for the case coming?”
“Okay.” Ophelia tried the merlot. Jake knew his wines, but then he’d be good at everything. He had the looks and confidence to have life covered, right down to the best wines.
Lily smiled. “Only okay? I thought you’d be thrilled to be on your first case. What happens if you lose?”
Ophelia didn’t intend to lose so had ruled out that possibility. “We won’t,” she said confidently. “Lily, I have to talk to you.”
“Is it bad?”
Lily’s concerned face made Ophelia want to cry. She tried to speak but her tongue got stuck, frozen by her own shame.
Lily topped up Ophelia’s glass. “What about I tell you my news first?”
Ophelia nodded. She might as well delay her own execution for as long as possible.
“Last night, Jake brought me roses. You know what that means, O.”
“A guilty conscience,” Ophelia mumbled to herself.
“We went to the most romantic restaurant,” Lily carried on, “and afterwards we went to my place. We couldn’t go to his coz it’s being refurbished.”
“Naturally.”
Lily didn’t hear her. “I’m sure he’s falling in love with me.”
Ophelia felt close to throwing up. “You’ve always had a wonky radar when it comes to men, Lily. Jake might not be the man you think he is.”
“That’s my Ophelia. Always assuming the worst.”
“And you always assume they care,” Ophelia argued. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“Yes I do,” Lily sighed, closing her eyes dreamily. “He’s so good in bed.”
Ophelia had to take a double breath to ask. “What does he do?”
Her friend’s eyes opened wide. “You want details?”
In all their years of friendship, Ophelia had never wanted to know about Lily’s hectic love life. “I only wondered.”
Lily peered at Ophelia. “Are you all right? You hate talking about sex.”
“What makes him so good?”
Lily took a sip of wine before answering. “I can’t believe you’re asking. But if you must know, last night we started off with a sixty-niner.”
Ophelia had never tried a sixty-niner, not even half a sixty-niner. “Um… does he spa…?”
“What’s spa?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She already knew Jake spanked. “Do you trust him?”
Lily sighed. “Yes, I do, O. He’s a knight in shining armor.”
“They don’t exist, Lily. Men are men and some of them are…”
“Are what?”
Ophelia drained her glass. “Weren’t you curious about why I didn’t call you last night?”
“I got your text. What else do I need to know?”
“I-I…”
She stopped. She could tell herself a hundred times that Lily shouldn’t have asked her to do it, but it wasn’t Lily’s fault.
Ophelia burst out, “I had sex with him.”
Lily shot out of the bean bag to stare down at her. “You did what?”
Ophelia stood to face her soon to be ex-friend. “I didn’t mean to do it.”
Oh, God, people always said that as an excuse. She could have walked away from Jake, but in that moment when he’d first kissed her, she’d wanted him more than she’d wanted Lily’s friendship. She was a hundred times worse than he.
It took all her strength to meet Lily’s eyes. “I have no excuse. I betrayed you. And he’s awful, Lily, because he…”
Ophelia stopped. Poor Lily didn’t need to know about Candice.
Lily was staring straight ahead. “I don’t know what to say.”
Ophelia wanted to fall at Lily’s feet to beg forgiveness. “I had to tell you. I’m so sorry.”
“Ophelia Tate, you never do it until the tenth date. How many times?”
Wasn’t once bad enough? “Once.”
“I’ll have to talk to Jake about this.”
Ophelia expected a blazing row or the big walk-out. “He told you, didn’t he? You already knew.”
Lily shook her head. “No, I didn’t know.” She went to the kitchen, found crackers and cheese while Ophelia gnawed on a fingernail, feeling worse by the moment.
Returning with the platter, Lily set it on the coffee table before plunking back in her seat. “I can’t believe you would do that, O. You of all people.”
“I’d understand if you want to hit me.”
“Did you tell him who you were?”
“I said I was Ms. Jones.”
Lily’s brow rose. “Lordy, that’s original. Did he mention me?”
“Well, no… we were…”
“You were what?”
“Why do you need to ask, Lily?” Ophelia sniffled, fighting back tears. “I’m a bitch.”
Lily started laughing, rolling around in the beanbag, spraying cracker crumbs. “Had you fooled, Ophelia Tate!”
Lily had always been crazy, but this was all out insane. “Don’t you care that I had sex with him?”
“I would if he was in the library last night.”
“But you said…”
Lily shrugged. “Straight after I called you, he turned up at my place with two dozen roses. Said he’d rather go out for dinner.”
Ophelia felt her mouth flop open.
“You fucked a stranger, O. How totally naughty of you.”
“B-but it was Jake because the librarian said his name,” Ophelia insisted indignantly, not sure whether to be relieved or cross.
“Jake is a common enough name,” Lily said, nibbling at another cracker. Brushing crumbs from her jacket, she looked at Ophelia accusingly. “I should be furious with you though. You thought he was my man.”
Ophelia sat down again. She should be thankful that her friendship with Lily had survived, but now she had a fresh problem. Who on earth did she have sex with?
“Where’d you do it?”
Ophelia felt her cheeks ripening. “In one of the aisles at the back of the top floor.”
Lily whooped. “Oh. My. God, O. You did it on your precious top floor. He must’ve been good.”
More than good. “He was…. oh hell, Lily, what am I going to do about it?”
“Find out who he is then do him again. Ask the librarian. She’ll know.”
Ophelia didn’t like that idea. With books strewn between the aisles, Cheryl would’ve put two and two together. No, the safest option was to pretend it never happened.
“I don’t want to know who he is because he cheats. Before we were doing… it, he had phone sex with his girlfriend.”
Lily’s mouth flopped open. “You’re kidding? Did he know you were there?”
“Yes.”
“And did he… get it out?”
“No.”
Lily looked disappointed. “What’s the point then? Anyway, Ophelia Tate, it didn’t stop you having him.”
“I know. It’s dreadful.”
Lily smiled. “Have you ever done this before?”
“Of course not.”
From Lily’s crooked smile, she wasn’t being serious. Ophelia returned to her nail, her mind back on Jake. It was too much to hope that he’d stay away from the library. In any case, she’d need to steer clear of the place for the next few weeks.
Lily rested her chin in her hands. “What’s he like?”
“At least six-four, short black hair, dark blue eyes.”
“No, what’s he like?”
Ophelia sipped her wine to avoid answering. She felt her cheeks burn when Lily’s eyes rounded. “Wow, you were really into him.”
“No I wasn’t,” she snapped, her denial too quick to be convincing. “It was nothing special.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
Ophelia adopted a casual expression. “No.”
“Spoiler alert, girlfriend. He’ll find out who you are and make contact.”
Not after calling him a dirtbag, he wouldn’t. A trace of disappointment rose, but Ophelia crushed it before it showed on her face. She shouldn’t be thinking like this.
“How’s your latest commission coming along?”
Lily laughed. “The girl wants a change in subject.” Taking more cheese, she snuggled back. “Great. The clients want me to do their other buildings now.”
People loved Lily’s clever, colorful street art. It had started as a way of paying for art school and ended up as a permanent job. Lily’s work could be found all over the city.
“That’s nice,” Ophelia said, stifling a yawn. “Sorry, I’m tired and woozy from the wine.”
“That’s my cue to go so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ophelia followed Lily to the door. “I feel awful about everything, Lily.”
Lily wrapped her in a hug. “You need to forgive yourself, but next time, make sure you know who you’re screwing.”
After closing the door, Ophelia poured another glass of merlot and curled up on the sofa. She’d dodged a bullet with her best friend, but she didn’t feel good about what she’d done. All the reasoning in the world couldn’t get around the fact that she’d had sex with a stranger named Jake.
Time to stop brooding and go to bed. She was out of her sweats and on her way to the shower, when her cell buzzed.
“Ms. Jones.”
The sensual grittiness in his voice flared her into action. “You! How did you get my number?”
“I told you I’d call. I’d like to see you tonight.”
His sexy growl instantly swamped her with heat yet she mentally fought the invitation. “That would be a bad idea.”
“Bad ideas are the best kind, Ms. Jones.”
In her underwear, she felt exposed, irrationally nervous. Aroused as hell. “I can’t…”
He smoothed away her objection. “How about we meet at the Bulwer Hotel?”
A stab of heat stoked the slow burn between her legs—a sexy contradiction to her dampening panties and the goosebumps rippling over every inch of her skin.
“Why?”
“You know why.”
She stood silent at that.
“Ophelia.”
Of course he now knew her name but hearing him say it for the first time only added to the sexual charge between them—so intense it felt as if she was already in his arms.
“We both know this has to happen.”
Manhattan Jake wanted her. Unglamorous, nerdy Ophelia Tate.
She took pride in being able to analyze situations, to be cautious in making decisions, to manage life’s problems. She was a lawyer, for goodness’ sake. Lawyers managed problems. And yes, Jake was a problem to be managed. Except the desire she’d felt last night was back so strongly, she could practically feel him. Technically, there was nothing to stop her from seeing the man who wasn’t Lily’s boyfriend. On the other hand, what would it achieve other than complicate her life with a sexy brute who was too much for her.
“Why don’t you ask Candice?”
“I’m asking you.”
So much for putting him on the back foot. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
“I intend to give you what you want.”
No pretense that this would be a real date with dinner or even drinks. This would be nothing but sex. She closed her eyes while her brain and body argued the point. Her body won.
“I guess I can meet you but only for a short time.”
His voice fell to gravel, serenading the last of her resistance into submission. “Short isn’t what you need.”
He might be right, but no way would she admit it to him. Nor would she show up there looking like an overeager teenager on a first date. “I can be there in an hour,” she announced, then to loosen his confidence, added, “If that’s too long for you to wait, I’ve got other things to do.”
The seconds ticked by without an answer.
“So what is it?” she finally asked, trying not to sound like she cared.
“Last night I promised you something.”
She racked her brain. “Um.”
“Think.”
“Oh...”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it? I want you at the hotel in thirty minutes.”
She didn’t answer but the silence between them was enough to hold her in its erotic net. It was all she could do not to run downstairs and hail a cab with him still on the phone.
“Forty-five minutes,” she negotiated, rummaging through her scanty closet. “By the way, who are you?”
“Not a minute past thirty.”
Before she could ask again, he hung up though it seemed exciting not to know his identity. Tonight she would have sex with an almost stranger. Hot, fantasy, never-tried-before sex that involved… what? But as sizzling as the ‘what’ sounded, a prick of fear lanced her heart. Whatever happened tonight would put her into the unknown and like one of Lily’s crazy ideas, it could go horribly wrong. Yet she had to do this, or she would always wonder what might have been.
Ophelia finished dressing, grabbed her bag and headed downstairs. Foregoing a cab, she walked to the Bulwer, hugging her coat tightly against the cold. She would be late for their appointment, but she wanted time to think everything through. And at every step, she became more sure of her decision. She coveted this man, coveted everything he promised.
As Ophelia walked up the steps to the Bulwer, she shivered with something more than the cold night air.
Chapter 4
“It’s all over the news, JD. I’m not paying you to fuck around.”
“Take it easy, Sebastian. I’m going to fix this.”
“What if it goes to trial? Who’s on the prosecution team?”
He signaled the bartender for a refill. “Assistant District Attorney Bill Nealand.”
“I’ve heard of him. Who else?”
“I’m waiting to hear.”
“Whoever it is, let me know.”
Damn Sebastian. “No intimidating the D.A.’s office or you’ll need a new attorney.”
“Fuck, JD, I’m not doing time for that kid. I should’ve plugged him when I had the chance.”
“This is a straightforward case, Sebastian, so stay out of it. I’ll see you at the D.A.’s office tomorrow afternoon at four.”
Without waiting for an answer, he ended the call, more than pissed at Raynott for cutting into his evening. He had Ms. Tate on his mind where she’d been all day. He didn’t know that he liked her being there, but last night’s sex had been stuck in his head like a porn video set to replay. What’s more, the downy innocent didn’t fit his mold of no-commitment, seasoned subs who knew his tastes. Teaching Ophelia Tate the rules would be work but he’d never been work-shy.
The bartender set the bourbon on a coaster. “Haven’t seen you here in a while, JD.”
“I’ve been busy.”
The bartender parked an elbow. “You dining tonight?”
“No.”
Although he often brought prospective clients to the Bulwer for dinner. The restaurant served the best seafood in the city so it made a good first impression. Tonight he’d booked the penthouse suite, which covered the entire top floor. Secluded, discreet, disturbance-free. He’d used it before.
“You meeting someone?”
“Correct.”
The curt answer sent the bartender to the other end of the bar to polish glasses.
He checked his watch. She was late, probably to piss him off but she’d be here. The lovely Ophelia wanted to experience what he’d promised her.
A drink later, he checked his watch again. Over an hour. He had his phone out to call her when she walked into the bar. In an unbuttoned, oversized red coat and slouchy canvas bag slung over her shoulder, she looked as if she were on her way to the library instead of a date. Flat shoes. The women he dated wore heels, the kind that pulled a man’s gaze to legs like steel t
o a magnet. But for a dab of lip gloss, she wore no makeup and she’d tied her hair back into some tangled arrangement that had come loose on one side. With Ophelia Tate, a man got what he saw.
And what he got was nectar. Rosy, cold-bitten cheeks and big eyes that met his in frank acknowledgement of why she’d come. He’d wondered if lightning would strike twice between them. It did. They might not have much in common, but their desire was as all-consuming as last night.
“I’ve booked the room.”
She nodded, waiting while he paid for his drink.
The bartender’s gaze swept Ophelia with obvious curiosity. “Have a good night, JD.”
“Thanks.”
They walked in silence to the elevators. As the doors closed, she leaned back against the wall, her red coat making a splash of color against the gray surroundings. Her eyes were in shadow—unreadable, but he knew the thoughts they concealed. This was Ophelia’s moment of truth. With that single ass smack in the library, he’d awakened the submissive in her. Her sex life was about to change forever.
Hungry to taste her, he closed the space between them to curl his hand around the nape of her neck and draw her in. He held her lightly for his kiss, his hands sliding into her coat to claim what would soon become his property for the night. She melted into him, molding her belly to his groin. Her moan of need filled his mouth, his own guttural groan joining hers in a slow tango of lips and tongues.
The door opened with a whoosh. “Our floor I think, Ms. Tate.”
Escorting her down the hall, he unlocked the door, waiting for her to go ahead. She turned to look up at him with shy eyes. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Hotel sex?” he joked.
Her voice turned small. “What you promised.”
It was then he realized that Ophelia would probably bond with him. He knew this, understood how it happened to a submissive, especially with a girl who’d likely bypassed dating for study and career. He wouldn’t normally take on the responsibility of breaking in someone so young and tender, but with her soft pleading eyes and his libido running rampant, it was too damned late to turn back now.
