Defensive Heart: The Donnolleys, Book 2

by Dorothy F. Shaw

  Her eyes widened and deepened into a slate-blue color. Fire and ice. This was how it would be with them. He knew it like he knew his own name, but there was no doubt in his mind she didn’t have a clue. Yet.

  She turned toward the street. “Don’t push me on this, James. It’s none of your concern. I should just go now.”

  “Look, you don’t want to tell me then don’t. But I don’t want you to go yet. We’re already here so let’s keep going. You can fight with me upstairs if you want.”

  She glared over her shoulder. “I’m not fighting with you.”

  “Yeah, you are. All good, Sonja. It’s our version of foreplay.” He smirked and held out his hand to her.

  “You’re twisted.”

  “Maybe a little. Come on.” He nodded to his outstretched hand and, after a long pause, she finally took it.

  They walked the remainder of the way in silence, hand-in-hand, turning the corner at the end of the block. Half a block later, they were in front of his building. He glanced at the metal door. Well, he’d gotten her to his studio. Fuck if he knew what to do with her next.

  Chapter Seven

  Sonja stepped through the doorway of his building. It was clean and bright, which was a pleasant surprise. Nervous energy ran like a river from her palms to her chest and down to her stomach. What the hell am I doing? Was she really going to his studio? Alone?

  They entered the elevator and she drew in a breath. It’s just his studio, not his apartment or anything. She’d check out some of his art and be on her way. She had Casey to deal with after all. Her daughter was really beginning to push Sonja past her limits.

  The elevator moved at a snail’s pace and while she watched each floor number light up one at a time, James watched her. In fact, he only seemed to take his eyes off her when necessary. It bothered her. Like she was some sort of bug under a microscope or something. “You’re staring again.”

  “Get used to it.”

  She smoothed her hand up the back of her hair. “I don’t intend to get used to anything.”

  He chuckled and the masculine sound of it spread through her like warm honey. The elevator dinged, signaling his floor. Thank God. They’d only risen six floors, but the trip felt like they’d gone sixty.

  “To your left. Last door.”

  “All right.” Sonja stepped into the hall and walked in the direction he’d directed.

  Again he moved right next to her, his hand pressed to her lower back. She liked it, more than she wanted to admit. The warmth of his insistent touch rekindled the memory of how he’d grabbed her outside the courthouse. How he’d nipped her bottom lip. She’d wanted him to kiss her. Which was crazy because at the same time she wanted to slap his face and push him away. The man made her mind fuzzy, made her want things she normally never wanted. Especially from someone like him.

  When they reached the door, James dug his keys from his front pocket. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, motioning for her to enter. The first thing she noticed in the entry hall was a small side table. A few sculptured clay bowls sat atop it. One bowl held keys and other miscellaneous items. The second thing she noticed was the beautiful dark mahogany wood floor stretching out before her.

  James set his keys in the bowl on the small table. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “You have a refrigerator?” She shrugged. “I guess that makes sense. Water if you have it.”

  He moved past her and stepped through a doorway ahead on the left. She followed and peeked inside. It was a full kitchen. Why does he have a full kitchen in his studio? Sonja ventured farther down the hall until it opened into a large space. Complete with a small dining table tucked in the corner and beyond, a couch, a love seat, chair, ottoman, coffee table—holy crap, this is his apartment!

  He placed her briefcase on the table and held out a bottle of water to her. “Here you go.”

  “I thought we were going to your studio.”

  “We are.”

  Confusion boomeranged in her mind. She took the offered bottle and opened it. “This is your apartment.”

  “Yup.”

  “James, did you think you could just take me back to your apartment and…what? What did you think exactly?”

  He sipped his water. “This is my home, Sonja, and it’s also my studio. Lighten up, would you? You’re always so damn uptight.”

  “You said your studio. You failed to mention it was also your home.”

  “Fine. Guilty. Happy now? Drink your water and relax. My studio is downstairs.” He turned away from her and headed for a set of stairs tucked against the wall.

  “Fine.” With a sigh, she followed and took each step down carefully in her heels. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a jerk?”

  He laughed. “A time or two, yeah.”

  “At least you’re aware. I suppose there’s hope for you then.”

  He flipped a light switch at the bottom of the steps, illuminating the space. “Sonja Martin, did you just make a joke?”

  “It happens on occasion. Don’t get too excited about it.” Navigating the last step, she followed behind him into a large space with brick walls and a stained concrete floor.

  “There’s the girl I’ve barely come to know.”

  “Please, you don’t know m—” A large canvas propped against the brick wall to her right caught her attention. It was smeared with red and yellow paint. Sonja took a moment and looked around, noticing the different pieces of his work in different stages of creation.

  Against the far wall, which was made up entirely of windows, was a long table. Several pieces of scrap metal were scattered atop it. Some were car parts, from what she could tell, but others were unidentifiable. She moved to another piece on an easel to her left. There were intricate lines of what looked like copper wires that appeared to be welded together. The lines framed images painted on the canvas. A city skyline with a river in the distance and a bridge. It was almost elegant, in an odd sort of way.

  “That’s my latest commissioned piece. I need to have it done by this weekend.”

  “It’s beautiful. Truly.”

  He stepped behind her, his body so close she felt the heat radiating off it. James placed his hands on her waist. “Thank you.”

  Sonja melted beneath his touch. “What else needs to be done to it?”

  “It needs more shaping, more manipulation of the copper with my hands.” His breath feathered over her ear and he pressed his body against hers. At the same time, he ran his hands up her sides and then back down to her hips.

  “How?” Her breath eased from her lips. She needed him to stop touching her. She didn’t want him to ever stop.

  “When I heat the metal, Sonja, it becomes pliable, soft.” He moved his hands under her blazer and over her stomach. “It responds to my touch and lets me shape it.”

  She was shaking, quivering from the inside out. “Then what?”

  “Then it becomes what I want it to be. What it needs and wants to be.” He nipped her ear.

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat. The tingle from his tender bite traveled down her neck to her spine, and she let her head fall back onto his shoulder. “Oh God.”

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He moved his hands up her stomach to under her breasts and kissed behind her ear, then explored her neck with his mouth and tongue, nipping her sensitive skin with his teeth.

  Sonja reached back and ran her fingers through his hair. He was treating her like the metal he spoke of. Warming her in order to mold her the way he wanted. Heaven help her, she wanted to let him.

  James turned her to face him and the room spun around her in a daze of heady lust. He cupped her face in his palms. “Let me heat you up.” He kissed her neck again. “I’ll make you pliable, Sonja.” He pressed his lips to her jaw and then her chin. “Say yes.”

  Sh
e’d closed her eyes at some point and only realized she’d done so when she opened them to gaze into pools of warm hazel. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “There’s the fire.” He tilted her head to the side and stroked his tongue over her bottom lip.

  Sonja gripped the back of his neck, not sure if it was to keep from falling or because she wanted him closer. He moved his hands from her face and ran one palm down the front of her neck. He licked at her upper lip and ran his other hand up her back, pulling her tighter to him. His erection pressed against her through his jeans. “You’re shaking.”

  Wetness coated her panties and her clit throbbed. “Please…”

  “Please what, Sonja?” He moved his hand lower, trailing his fingers over the juncture of her cleavage.

  She swallowed. “Kiss me.”

  He said nothing else, just met her mouth with his own. Parting her lips with his tongue, he delved in to stroke and tease. Oh God. Oh God. I can’t. I want. Please. James. Sonja moaned and moved her hands higher on his neck, gripping the soft strands of his hair. He backed her against the brick wall and deepened the kiss. Yes, fire.

  Chapter Eight

  Jimmy drowned in the taste and feel of everything that was Sonja Martin—kissing her, tasting her, seeking more. He pressed her against the wall in his studio and her perfect body molded to his. She lit him up inside and out in ways he’d never felt before.

  In an attempt to slide one leg between hers, he met the resistance of her long skirt. He moved his hands down her hips and tugged at the tight material, raising it by inches in order to allow her long legs to part and make room for his own.

  Sonja gasped against his lips when his thigh hit its intended target, and then shifted her hips forward, ever so slightly, and rubbed against his leg. Fucking hell, she was killing him. The heat between her legs spread over his thigh and shot straight to his balls. Her little gasps for breath and eager kitten moans had his prick hardening to a length of steel in the confines of his jeans. He wanted to taste her everywhere but couldn’t bring himself to leave her hot mouth yet. The fire that’d started between them was now a raging inferno. And he wanted more.

  Sonja was the first to break the kiss. Gasping for air, she pressed her forehead against his. Jimmy ran one hand down to her thigh and raised it off the ground to rest against his hip. The movement forced her skirt higher. Perfect. He slid his fingers up the back of her sheer-nylon-covered leg and found bare skin—his knees went weak.

  Jimmy glanced down and almost came in his jeans. She had on a set of thigh-high stockings and a garter belt. Fuck me. His cock got impossibly harder. And Jesus, her skin felt like silk. With a growl, he raised his thigh flush against her center.

  Sonja moaned and rolled her hips. Oh, yeah, this was how he’d hoped she’d be with him. Jimmy braced himself against the wall with his forearm and toyed with the back of her thigh with his free hand, tracing lines back and forth below the crease of her butt cheek. Nipping her jaw, he moved his lips and tongue down her throat to her chest, exploring the skin exposed by the open neckline of her dress shirt. “Fuck, you taste like heaven and hell mixed together.”

  She said nothing. But he didn’t need her to. Sonja’s actions and reactions spoke volumes to him. She moved her hands underneath his shirt and scraped her nails up his back. He needed more. He wanted her naked beneath him. He wanted her—any way he could get her.

  Right fucking now.

  Jimmy glanced at her and then nuzzled the side of her neck. “Unbutton your shirt for me.”

  Her throat bobbed beneath his lips and he knew her mind was racing, trying to decide which way to go with his request. He moved his thigh higher, forcing her to her tiptoes and rubbed against her core.

  “James…” Sonja moaned and bit his shoulder.

  “Yes?” He squeezed her thigh and returned his lips to her cleavage. How far would she go? Excitement raced through him, made him want to push further, keep her mindless. She wanted him. It was obvious. The evidence of it scorched him through the denim on the leg pressed to her pussy.

  “Oh God. We should stop.”

  Jimmy slid his hand along her thigh to her hip and then continued up her stomach to the underside of one petite breast. “You really want me to stop, Sonja?”

  “Yes. No… Yes.” She dug her nails into his sides, and it was his turn to gasp.

  He gripped her breast, dragging his thumb over the tight nipple poking through the fabric of her bra and dress shirt. “Fuck, woman! I want you.”

  She jerked against him, her hip making contact with his throbbing cock. Grinding against her, he squeezed her breast in his fingers.

  “Dear God, what are you doing to me?” She rocked her hips, riding his thigh.

  He left her breast to grip her ass and moved her against him again. Every muscle in his body was tight with arousal. He wanted her long legs wrapped around him. He wanted inside her pussy, knowing it would be tight like a glove and hotter than a kiln. He’d give anything to melt inside her heat. “I’m doing exactly what you want me to do. What you’ve fantasized about me doing since the night we met in Vegas. Admit it.”

  “No.”

  Panting for breath, he gazed into her eyes. “You’re lying. Plead your case, counselor.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I’m calling your bluff. You think I can’t feel that hot box of yours weeping all over my thigh? Your hard nipples against my chest? I feel all of it. You want me. Say it.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Perfect. Let’s go upstairs.”

  “No.” With an inferno blazing in her eyes, she bit her bottom lip and glared at him.

  Jimmy moved his thigh from between her legs. She whimpered in protest, but tried to stifle it. With a smirk, he cupped her pussy in his palm. “I feel how hot you are.”

  “So what? It’s fucking biology. You’re good looking, and you certainly know how to use it to your advantage. Big deal. Anyone would respond this way.”

  Jimmy moved her panties aside and ran his fingers through her wet slit. “Is that so?” What the hell am I doing? Did he actually think fighting with this gorgeous creature was going to get her in his bed? He couldn’t help it though. Sonja said “black” and he automatically said “white”. Maybe the fighting between them was foreplay. He’d been kidding when he’d said it upstairs, but he was starting to believe it might be true.

  Sonja gasped and thrust her hips forward, right before her eyes narrowed on him and she went still as a statue. “It’s the truth!” She shoved him away and pushed her skirt down her legs.

  Damn, she was warm and wet. Ready for him and he’d blown it. Fuck! Jimmy took another step back and rested his hands on his hips. Still panting—dick hard like a rod and heart galloping out of his chest—he swiped his hand over his goatee. “You’re gorgeous when you get angry.”

  “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

  “Take it for what you want. You’re beautiful even when you’re not mad, but something changes in your eyes when you get angry at me, and it makes me want to pull that skirt up over your hips and fuck you senseless.”

  Pressing her hand to her chest, she gasped at his harsh words and glared at him. “I don’t like you.” She stepped away from the wall and walked toward the stairs.

  “You may not like me, Sonja, but you want me as much as I want you. That much you can’t deny.”

  “Have fun working off that hard-on. I’m going home, James.”

  He turned and followed her up the stairs. Christ, he was an idiot. Her ass, right in his line of sight, made for a pleasant view at least. “I’ll send you a text message when I’m done, let you know how good it was, and how I called out your name the moment I came.”

  “You have got to be the rudest, most crude man I’ve ever met. I have criminal clients with more tact and respect than you.”

  “
That may be true too, but you still want me. And it pisses you off, doesn’t it?”

  They reached the top of the stairs and she retrieved her briefcase. “This conversation is over, and coming here was a mistake I won’t make again.”

  He went ahead to the front door and watched while she made her way down the hall toward him. Little strands of hair had fallen loose from her perfect up-do, framing her oval face in perfection. “Have it your way. Next time we’ll go to your place.”

  She reached around him for the door handle. “There won’t be a next time.”

  Jimmy placed his hand over hers, and when she froze, he stepped behind her, wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed his chest to her back. He ran his lips over the shell of her petite ear. “There will be a next time, and many more times after that, Sonja.”

  She shivered in his arms, her breath leaving her lips in a soft gasp. “Let go of me.”

  “Never.”

  “James.”

  “For now. But this isn’t over.” He released her and took a step back.

  She opened the door and walked out. Jimmy leaned against the doorjamb and watched her walk down the hall with graceful steps, even in her killer spiked heels. Sonja smoothed the back of her hair before pressing the button for the elevator.

  She glanced over at him. Crossing his arms, he met her gaze. The elevator opened, she looked away and stepped inside the car. Gone. He shook his head, ran his fingers through his hair and went back in his apartment. This wasn’t over, nowhere near over.

  Jimmy made his way to the master bathroom upstairs and turned on the shower. Cupping his palms over his mouth and nose, he took in the light trace of arousal and her perfume lingering on his hands. Her elegant scent was all over him and his dick throbbed in his jeans at the teasing aroma.

  He didn’t want to wash it off, but he was so wound up he needed the release. And like he told her, he’d be calling out her name when he came. Sonja-the-lawyer had spawned a need in him that he wasn’t willing to deny. She might be able to lie to herself, and to him about what she wanted, but he knew better.