Legal Attraction

by Lisa Childs

  “Is that what this is?” he asked, as if he had a horrible taste in his mouth. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because I never cared.”

  It wasn’t a declaration of love. But coming from Ronan , it was nearly as monumental. Muriel’s heart rate quickened, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. She parted her lips to drag in some air.

  And then his mouth was there, moving hungrily over hers. He kissed her as if he was consuming her, his lips and teeth nibbling at hers. He suddenly pulled back and uttered a deep groan.

  “Why do you affect me like no one else ever has?” he asked her.

  She could have asked him the same question, but she just smiled with the pleasure his comment gave her. Even if she followed the cardinal rule of gossip and only believed half of what she’d heard, he’d had a lot of lovers. So it was good to know that she was special to him.

  “You don’t have to be jealous because of me,” she assured him. “Because you’re the only man I want.”

  He tensed, and she saw that look of fear pass through his dark eyes. Instead of her words reassuring him, she’d scared him. And she remembered he was a man who would never let himself fall in love—because he didn’t want to wind up like his father.

  But she was not like his mother. And she wanted him to know that. “I only sleep with one man at a time,” she said. “And you’re the only man I want to sleep with now.”

  Yet they had never slept together. He always took off right after they had sex.

  “Is that why you withdrew your complaint?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Sorry, you did not seduce me into that.”

  “Why did you do it then?” he asked.

  “Because Arte told me the truth.”

  “And the rest of the world, too,” Ronan remarked. He studied her face. “How did you get him to do that?”

  She shrugged. “He must have realized it was the only publicity he was going to get.”

  “It’s bad.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Is it for you? Have you had any backlash?”

  “The guys have called me an idiot,” he said. “But it hasn’t affected the practice any. In fact, I think it’s brought in more clients.”

  “So you’ve been busy?” she asked. And now she was fishing to see where he’d been, why he hadn’t been around. He wasn’t the only one experiencing jealousy for the first time.

  He nodded. “And I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me after the truth finally came out. Or if you’d hit me again like you did in that first elevator...”

  She laughed and reaching up, pressed her lips to his cheek. “Poor baby...”

  “I had it coming,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Arte duped you—just like he did me,” she said. And somehow that made her feel better about it. If a man as brilliant as Ronan had been fooled, she didn’t feel like such a fool herself.

  Ronan flinched. He obviously hadn’t liked being conned. “There was more to it than that.”

  “I know.” But she didn’t want to talk about the past now. She’d missed him too much. And her body ached for his.

  But she turned away from him, to face the mirror again. Over her shoulder, his reflection’s eyes narrowed as he studied her.

  “Muriel...?”

  Since she’d had to give back the gown she’d worn for the photo shoot, she wore only a robe now. She’d been too lethargic—from all the sleepless nights thinking about him—that she hadn’t worked up the energy to change into her street clothes. They overflowed the top of her bag, which sat on the floor beneath the long dressing room table.

  Watching him in the mirror, she untied the sash of her robe and pulled it through the loops.

  His mouth curved into a slight grin, and he told her, “You are not going to tie me up.”

  “No,” she agreed. “I want you to touch me.” She parted the robe and let it drop from her shoulders so that she stood naked before the mirror and him. “I want you to touch me here.”

  She pressed her fingers to her lips and swiped her tongue across the tips. Then she glided those wet fingertips down her throat and over the curve of one breast. She touched the already taut nipple, stroking her wet fingertip across it. And a moan slipped through her lips. “I really want you to touch me here...”

  But it seemed as if he was paralyzed as he just stood behind her and watched as she touched herself.

  She guided her hand over her stomach, which, thanks to him stealing her appetite away, was flatter than it had ever been. Then she raked her nails over her mound until she could slide her fingers between her inner lips. She gasped.

  And Ronan echoed that gasp. A groan tore from his throat, and his paralysis ended as he reached for her. “Doesn’t look like you need me,” he murmured as he placed his hands on her shoulders and met her gaze in the mirror.

  “Looks can be deceiving,” she told him, knowing they were both well aware of that now. Then she assured him, “I do need you.” And she placed her hands over his on her shoulders and guided them down to her breasts.

  They watched each other in the mirror. She watched him play with her breasts, tease her nipples into even tighter points as tension wound inside her. And with every whimper and moan she uttered, his eyes got darker, his gaze more intense, and behind her she could feel the heat and hardness of his body. His erection throbbed against her bottom.

  He wanted—needed—her just as badly as she did him. At least, that was what she tried to convince herself of as her desire for him slipped into madness. She tried to turn around, but he held her the way they were—her back to his front—and he continued to watch her in the mirror even as he undid his pants and freed his cock.

  She could feel the slick bare skin of his dick rubbing against her ass now. Then latex separated skin from skin as he rolled on a condom.

  Fortunately he seemed as staunch a supporter of safe sex as she had always been. So maybe—someday—they could try it without the condom. But that implied a commitment she wasn’t sure either of them was ready to make.

  Right now, all she expected from him was pleasure. And he gave that to her. Leaning over her shoulder, he kissed her neck. She turned her head until lips met lips. They kissed hungrily. She was so thirsty for him, on fire with a thirst only he could quench.

  Then his hands moved to her waist and he lifted her onto the makeup counter so she knelt with her head toward the mirror and her ass toward him. He moved his fingers into her before leaning over and lapping at her with his tongue. He licked her so sexily—as he watched her in the mirror—that she came. A little squeal of surprise slipped through her lips over how quickly the orgasm took her.

  He grinned at her. But then the grin disappeared as his control snapped. And he moved between her legs, guiding himself inside her.

  She gasped again as he filled her. Every time it was a surprise that they fit. But they did fit, so well that it was as if they were made for each other. And even though days had passed since they’d had sex last, they moved together in that perfectly choreographed dance like they’d been doing it for years.

  As he thrust inside her, his hands found her breasts again. He cupped the mounds, but they overflowed his palms. So he focused on the nipples, gently twisting and teasing them as he built the tension inside her again.

  She felt as if she might split in two—not from his size or thrusts, but from the unbearable need for release. He moved one hand from her breasts and stroked his thumb over her clit.

  And she came again, a scream tearing from her throat that she couldn’t stop. The release shuddered through her with such intensity that tears streaked down her cheeks and her body shook in reaction.

  Hopefully everyone had left because if they hadn’t, someone would probably have called the police to report an attack. She�
��d sounded like she was being murdered.

  Then Ronan tensed and shouted out her name as he came, leaning his head, hair slick with perspiration, against her back. He uttered a ragged sigh. “You are so damn incredible...”

  She wasn’t, but what happened between them was. It had started with just an attraction, one that they hadn’t been able to overcome despite their anger and mistrust. And every time they came together it was more powerful than the last. The attraction wasn’t dying off; it was only getting more and more intense.

  Ronan must have realized it, too, because when he lifted his head from her back, she caught a glimpse of his eyes in the mirror. And she saw the fear in them.

  But she didn’t know if that fear was his or hers. Because she felt it, too. She was afraid that she was falling for a man who would never let himself love anyone.

  She was glad he’d found her here instead of her apartment because now she was the one who wanted to run. But she wasn’t sure where she could go to escape these feelings for him—feelings that were overwhelming her.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  RONAN GLANCED AT the address Muriel had texted him on his cell. Was this right?

  This small house in the Bronx was where she’d wanted him to meet her. But why?

  This wasn’t her place. Was it some kind of S and M sex den? She seemed to really want to tie him up. He wasn’t sure if he should ring the doorbell or not. But a barking dog from within the modest house must have alerted her to his arrival because she opened the door and smiled at him.

  “You came.”

  Standing two steps down on the stoop made him level with her beautiful face. He closed the distance between them and kissed her, and as he did, he murmured against her lips, “Not yet. But I want to come soon...inside you...”

  Her face flushed and her pupils dilated, swallowing the green the way he wanted to swallow her—

  “Is your friend here?” a male voice asked from within the house.

  And Ronan tensed.

  “Muriel, bring him in,” a female voice chimed into the conversation.

  And Ronan wondered if Arte and his friends had really lied about the orgies.

  “Where am I?” he asked her. And why had she had him meet her here?

  “Home,” she said, and her smile widened.

  “You bought a house?” he asked. With the money she had to be making as The World’s Most Beautiful Woman, she could have easily afforded something much nicer than this.

  She laughed. “No. This is my grandparents’ house,” she said. “Home...”

  That explained why she was there. But why had she invited him? “Did you want me to meet you here?” he asked. Maybe he’d misunderstood the text. Maybe she’d just been telling him where she was because he’d asked her if she was home. He took a step down. “I can leave.”

  “No,” she said, and she tugged him back up the stairs. “I invited you here. I wanted you to come for Sunday dinner.”

  His breath caught, panic pressing on his chest as he stepped over that threshold. And it wasn’t just because he wasn’t fond of little dogs like the one that had rushed down the hall to bounce around his feet. It was because he didn’t like families.

  Any families...

  He’d hated his own, and he’d never seen another one he’d wanted to be part of, even the ones that had seemed perfect on the outside. Pitching his voice low, he asked, “Why would you invite me here?”

  Hurt flashed through her green eyes. “I wanted you to meet them.”

  “You should have asked if I’d wanted to meet them,” he said.

  “I didn’t care,” she replied, and there was a sharp tone to her voice now. “I wanted you to see why I was so upset about the trial. I wanted you to understand.”

  And suddenly he did. He hadn’t been certain if she’d forgiven him, not even though they’d had sex every day since that night in the dressing room. A couple of weeks had passed, which was a long time for him. Longer than he’d seen any other woman exclusively.

  This might have been the point in a relationship where the woman introduced the man to her family. But he didn’t know, because he’d never been in a relationship. And it didn’t sound as if he was really in one now.

  Muriel obviously hadn’t forgiven him yet. Not that he could blame her.

  “So this is an ambush?” he asked, keeping his voice low so her grandparents wouldn’t overhear. “They have to hate me just as much as you did.”

  Or did she still?

  “I explained to them what Arte did,” she said, “how he lied to you, too.”

  He nodded but he wasn’t convinced that was really an excuse for what he’d done to her. So he didn’t expect her grandparents to be forgiving or sweet. But he didn’t turn for the door and run like he wanted.

  However they treated him, he deserved it. And maybe when Muriel saw how her family couldn’t forgive him, she would realize that she and Ronan had no possibility of a future together.

  * * *

  The silence unnerved Muriel. It was the first that had fallen since she and Ronan had left Papa and Nana’s house. All through dinner conversation had flowed easily. Ronan had charmed. Nana had flirted. Papa had teased.

  It was the most fun Muriel had had in such a long time. And she’d thought Ronan had enjoyed himself. He’d eaten. He’d drunk. He’d laughed. He’d grinned.

  But he had never looked at her.

  Was he furious?

  She had kind of ambushed him. But if she’d told him that address was her grandparents’, he never would have showed up. So she’d tricked him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have told you.” She glanced at him across the console that separated the driver and passenger seats.

  “You should have asked me,” he corrected her. But he didn’t take his gaze from the road. And his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.

  “You would have said no,” she replied.

  “Yes, I would have,” he said. And now he glanced across at her, and there was sadness and regret in his dark eyes. “I’m not the kind of man women take home to meet their families.”

  Heat flushed her face. “I told you that’s not why I invited you,” she said. “I wanted you to see why I was so upset with you.”

  “Because of how all that media attention affected them.”

  She nodded. “They had reporters camped out on their stoop, asking them horribly intrusive questions about me, about my life and upbringing.”

  “Why are they the ones who raised you?” he asked. “You’ve never said how they came to be your legal guardians.”

  She’d fallen into their laps just as so much had fallen into hers. She sighed. “My mother was very young when she got pregnant with me. Just a teenager who’d fallen for an older boy. He left for the Marines, and she had me. But he didn’t come back.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said and reached across the console for her hand.

  But she pulled it back. She didn’t need comforting. “He didn’t die,” she said. “He just didn’t come back to the Bronx. And when my mother realized he wasn’t coming back, she wanted to leave, too. She wanted to go to college, so my grandparents said they would take care of me.”

  “But she never came back, either?” he asked.

  “No. She moved to the West Coast. She sends cards and letters and calls sometimes. But Papa and Nana, they’re my parents. The people I love the most and who love me most.”

  “Why did you want me to see that?” he asked. “So I would apologize again?” He had—to her grandparents—repeatedly. “I already told you I was wrong. What more do you want from me?”

  His heart. She wanted his heart. But she knew it wasn’t something he was going to freely offer her. It wasn’t going to just land in her lap like everything else in her life had. She would have to work to ear
n it.

  “I wanted you to see that I’m not a horrible person,” she told him. “I don’t go around slapping people and filing complaints and...”

  “Having sex in elevators?” he asked when she trailed off. And she heard the humor in his voice now.

  “No,” she said. “Except for you, I’ve never done any of that stuff.”

  “I know that,” he said. “Well, not the elevator stuff but the rest of it.”

  It hadn’t hurt that her grandparents had gone on and on about what a sweet, down-to-earth person she was. But a man like Ronan wouldn’t want sweet and down-to-earth. He’d want the passionate woman from the elevator.

  Maybe having him meet Papa and Nana had been a huge mistake. Maybe he would never look at her the way he had before...with such lust.

  She reached over the console and slid her hand over his thigh. The muscles rippled and tensed beneath her touch, and something long and hard swelled against the fly of his jeans.

  “Muriel...” His voice held a warning, one she ignored as she slid her hand higher up his thigh and then over his fly. “Do you want me to crash this car?”

  She didn’t want to crash but she did want him to lose control. Hell, she just wanted him. It didn’t matter how much sex they had; she was always hungry for more and the pleasure only he was able to give her.

  “You’re a good driver,” she said.

  He chuckled. “You’ve never ridden with me before.”

  No. Despite the amount of time they’d spent together the past couple of weeks, they hadn’t done much but sex. They hadn’t gone out to dinner. They always ordered in. They hadn’t seen a show or a concert. Their only entertainment had been each other.

  Since she’d been hiding out from all the reporters hounding her, she had been fine with keeping things private between them. But the press wasn’t bothering her nearly as much as they had.

  Now they could go out in public. But instead of heading toward the city, Ronan pulled his vehicle off into a small wooded area. The two-track road he’d found might once have led somewhere, but nobody had traveled it in a while. Weeds had nearly overgrown it. He didn’t drive very far, though, just far enough that the car wouldn’t be seen from the street. Then he put the car into Park and shut off the ignition.