âYou are becoming an addiction...â

And heâs about to find out how irresistible she really is...

Criminally handsome divorce lawyer Ronan Hall decimated Muriel Sanzâs reputation to win her ex a higher settlement. In retaliation, she wants to kill his career. They should hate each other. But they canât keep their handsâor their lipsâto themselves. If they donât destroy each other in court, they may just destroy each other in the bedroom...

âDARE is Harlequinâs hottest line yet. Every book should come with a free fan. I dare you to try them!â

âTiffany Reisz, international bestselling author

Ever since LISA CHILDS read her first romance novel at age eleven (a Mills & Boon story, of course), all she wanted was to be a romance writer. With over forty novels published with Mills & Boon, Lisa is living her dream. She is an award-winning, bestselling romance author. Lisa loves to hear from readers, who can contact her on Facebook, through her website, lisachilds.com, or at her snail-mail address, PO Box 139, Marne, MI 49435, USA.

If you liked Legal Attraction, why not try

Burn Me Once by Clare Connelly

Boardroom Sins by J. Margot Critch

Pleasure Games by Daire St. Denis

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Legal Attraction

Lisa Childs

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07123-9

LEGAL ATTRACTION

Â© 2018 Lisa Childs

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a âLicensed Deviceâ) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

Â® and â¢ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with Â® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Special thanks to Megan Broderickâ

for keeping me on track for all those things like Dedications and Dear Reader Letters and Art Fact Sheets.

I appreciate all your help!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

DAMN IT! RONAN HALL had been seeing her everywhere. But then, Muriel Sanz was everywhere: on every billboard in Times Square and on the cover of every magazine in every newsstand in the city. Hell, in every city...

Ronan hadnât expected to see the woman here, though, in the lobby of the apartment building heâd just been about to leave. Sheâd walked in as heâd been walking out, but heâd turned around to follow her to the elevator. Maybe he should have expected her to be here, since he knew they were friends. Their friendship could cost him his law license if the bar association believed Murielâs lies and the evidence sheâd manufactured against him.

Damn her!

As the elevator doors began to slide closed, he shoved his hand between them and held them open. She wasnât getting away from him. Not that sheâd been trying. She hadnât seemed to notice him at all as she passed through the lobby of the building in the Garment District. While crossing the polished terrazzo floor she had been looking down at her cell phone, typing a text.

Who was she texting? Her friend Bette? A lover? Given what he knew about her and her insatiable appetites, probably a lover.

The doors started to close againâon his fingers. He cursed and used both hands to shove them open so he could step inside the car.

She stood alone in the elevator, at the polished brass control panel, pressing the button to shut the doors. She had definitely seen him now. Her naturally tan skin was flushed, and her pale green eyes were bright with anger.

She was so unbelievably beautifulâmaybe the most beautiful woman heâd ever seen. That was why she was such a successful supermodel. Her hair had strands of every color in it, and her face was all cheekbones and full lips and those big, beautiful eyes. And her body...

Even though she wore a long, oversize sweater with black leggings, the green knit clung to every swell of her full breasts and curvy hips and ass. It just wasnât fair she had a figure like that.

And he suspected none of it was surgically enhanced or the media would have discovered and had a field day with that, just as they had every other aspect of her life.

That was why he saw her everywhereâeven in his damn dreams.

âWhat the hell are you doing here?â she asked.

Heâd been in the building to see her friend Bette Monroe. He and his law partners, minus their managing partner, Simon Kramer, had come to talk to her on Simonâs behalf. Bette was Simonâs former assistant, and he was miserable without herâpersonally more than professionally. And it was Ronanâs fault that sheâd broken off her personal relationship as well as her professional one with Simon.

So, after his partners had left, heâd stayed behind, trying to decide if he needed to come back and apologize to her again. Or maybe for the first time. He wasnât exactly sure if heâd already apologized or not. But then, he wasnât exactly sure if he owed her an apology or not.

âIâm going to see your friend,â he said, his decision made, and he reached for the control panel.

A button was lit up, but it wasnât for the tenth floor where Betteâs apartment was. Before he could touch it, Muriel slammed both her palms against the panel, hiding the buttons but also pressing them all in the process. The doors closed, and the car began to ascend. The elevator was small, with smoked mirrors, polished brass and a floor that matched the terrazzo in the lobby.

âWhat the hell are you doing?â he asked.

The car stopped and the brass-plated doors slid open. But she didnât step out of the elevator. Instead, she jabbed the button to close the doors again. Then she pressed the button for the lobby, but all the other floors were already lit up. They would have to stop at every one going up before the car would bring them back to the ground level.

âYouâre not going to harass Bette anymore,â she told him. âShe is not the one who gave me the evidence I forwarded to the bar association.â

âEvidence.â He snorted. âThatâs not evidence. All of it is forged bullshit, and thatâs going to be easily proven.â

Her wide eyes narrowed with suspicion. âIf thatâs the truth, then why are you so tense? So nervous?â

âBecause Iâm pissed youâd go to such extremes to smear me.â A former runaway whoâd spent some time living on the streets, Ronan had worked hard to achieve everything he had, and he hated that anythingâespecially her liesâcould put his career and his partnersâ law practice at risk.

She snorted now. âThat I would go so far to smear you? You hired a PR firm to destroy my image! And for what? Just so you would win a bigger settlement for my slimy ex in the divorce?â Her long, thick lashes fluttered, but he doubted she was flirting with him. Was she blinking back tears?

He felt a twinge of something. Sympathy? No. He had none for women like her. The only thing he should feel for her was suspicion and caution. He had no doubt she would try to play himâjust like she had her ex-husband when sheâd had him sign that ridiculous prenup agreement before marrying him. The only way around it had been to prove who and what Muriel Sanz really was.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened again. She jabbed the button to close them. âHow can you sleep at night?â she asked him.

Not very well lately because he thought of her all the time, even when he was with another woman. He imagined Murielâs beautiful face, her sexy-as-sin body...

How could he be so attracted to a woman like her? What the hell was wrong with his dick?

âI could ask you the same thing,â he said. âYouâre the master manipulator. Is that how you convinced Bette to give you the stationery with the Street Legal letterhead?â

He had started to believe that his partnerâs former assistant had had no part in Murielâs sick plot. Bette Monroe had seemed stunned when heâd confronted her about her friend filing the complaint with the bar association.

âI told you,â she said, slowly, as if he was too dense to understand, âthat Bette did not give me anything.â

âSo you took it from her without her knowledge?â It would have been easy enough to do had she ever visited the offices of Street Legal. But heâd checked, and she hadnât. Maybe Bette had brought some stationery home with her, though. He needed to ask her.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened again. She jabbed the button to close them. âI did not take a damn thing.â

He snorted again. âIâll see if Bette remembers anything.â He had already interrogated her once, and of course she had denied helping her friend. But maybe she would remember Muriel going through her purse or taking something from her apartment. Would she admit it to him, though? Or would she continue to protect her friend?

âYou and that sleazebag managing partner of yours have already treated Bette like crap,â Muriel said. âYou are not going to hurt her anymore.â Now she jabbed the stop button, and the elevator jerked to a shuddering halt between floors.

âWhat the hell are you doing?â he asked as an alarm began to ring, echoing throughout the small car. His head started to pound, nearly as hard as his heart had been since the moment he caught sight of her crossing the lobby like she was gliding down a fashion-show runaway.

Ronan was not crazy about confined spacesâespecially being confined with her. He punched the button to restart the elevator.

It lurched up, then began to dropâthe car and his stomach. Heâd been worried about losing his law license, but apparently that wasnât all that Muriel Sanz might cost him. Heâd be lucky if he survived this elevator ride with her.

* * *

A scream tore from Murielâs throat as her feet left the floor. The elevator was falling faster than she was, plummeting down the shaft. Then the car jerked so abruptly to a stop that she tumbled forward, falling hard. But she didnât hit the terrazzo floor of the elevator car. Instead she hit a heavily muscled body that had fallen before she had.

Ronan Hall lay sprawled across the car, his legs stretched across the floor while his back and shoulders had slammed against one of the smoked glass and brass walls. Maybe his head had hit the wall, as well, since his eyes were closed.

Was he unconscious?

From where sheâd landed against his chest, she stared up at his handsome face. His features could have been carved from granite; he was that chiseledâhis jaw square, his cheekbones as sharp as his nose. His lashes were long and thick and black against his cheeks. They didnât so much as flicker.

Despite herself and all the many thousands of reasons she had to hate his guts, concern filled her, and she asked, âAre you okay?â

âI donât know,â he replied, his voice low and gruff. âDid we stop falling yet?â

She was afraid to move, just in case they hadnât. That fear was the only reason she lay atop him, her legs tangled with his. Or else she would have scrambled off his body. But she didnât dare in case the elevator began to fall again.

She sucked in a breath and held it, and his scent filled her nostrils and her head. He smelled so damn goodânot like expensive cologne that her ex had always worn. No. Ronan smelled like soap and...

A scent that was his alone.

Not only was he handsome as hell but he had to smell good, too? It wasnât fair, but she shouldnât have been surprised. Life had not been very fair to Muriel lately.

She was too positive to let that keep her down, though. She would not stay down now, either, once she was certain the elevator wasnât going to drop all the way to the bottom of the shaft and crumple like an aluminum can under a car tire.

âAre you okay?â Ronanâs voice, even deeper with concern, asked the question now.

She glanced up at his face to find his eyes open as he studied her. She shrugged, then gasped as the car creaked. Ronanâs strong arms slid around her, holding her stillâor maybe she had already tensed because heâd touched her. Either way, she was frozen with fearâof falling and of how he was making her feel.

âDonât move,â he said, his voice dropping so low that it was a deep rumble in his chest.

She had no intention of moving, but she couldnât control the frantic beating of her heart. It was pounding so hard that she felt her whole body shaking with the force of it. Hers wasnât the only one. His heart hammered in time with hers. Her breasts were crushed against his muscular chest.

âCan I breathe?â she asked, her lungs aching as she tried to control the panic making her want to pant for air.

âI donât know if we should...â he murmured, but his breath stirred her hair as he whispered the words.

A strand tangled in her lashes, but she didnât dare reach up for it. But that meant her hands stayed where they were, and she only just realized exactly where they were and what she was touching. Instinctively sheâd extended them to break her fall, and since sheâd fallen on him, her hands were on him. One was against his biceps while the other was braced on his thigh. Both muscles rippled beneath her touch, as if heâd just realized where she was touching him, too.

And his body, which had already been taut with tension, grew harder yet. Against her abdomen, she felt his erection straining the fly of his dress pants.

He must have come right from the office to see Bette, since he was still wearing a suit. In the pictures sheâd seen of him in his downtime, heâd had on jeans and a T-shirt. Not that sheâd seen that many pictures of him in his downtime. If he and his partners in the Street Legal law practice hadnât been as notorious as they were in Manhattan, he probably wouldnât have been photographed at all. But he and the others were infamous for being ruthless litigators and lovers. When they were photographed outside the courtroom, they were usually with a famous femaleâan actress or model or fashion designer...

She tried to shift her hips, so her mound wouldnât press so tightly against his cock. But he groaned. And one of his arms slid around her back as his hand grasped her hip.

Through gritted teeth, he warned her, âDo. Not. Move.â

The elevator had stopped dropping. It had even stopped making those ominous creaking noises. âI donât think itâs going to fall,â she said.

âIâm not worried about the elevator,â he replied.

âThen why are we lying on the floor afraid to move?â she asked.

He groaned again and his fingers tightened their hold. But she doubted that he was in any real painâbecause his mouth curved into a slight, naughty grin. âMaybe I was just enjoying you throwing yourself at me.â

She sucked in a breath of shock and wriggled, trying to move off him. But his hands held her too tightly, and all she managed was to grind her hips against his groin. And to rock the elevator again.

The cables creaked. But they held. The car was not going to tumble any farther down the shaft. She was not worried about dying anymore. Instead, she was worried about her reaction to Ronan Hall.

Instead of slowing down, her heart was beating even faster. Her skin was tingling and hot everywhere her body was in contact with hisâwhich was pretty much everywhere. He was so muscular, so tall and broad.

And when sheâd sucked in that breath, sheâd inhaled his scent again; it filled her head. The way he would fill her...

His erection was so long and hard. Heat rushed straight to hrt core, making her hot and wet. For him?

No. It wasnât possible. She could not be attracted to the man who had destroyed her reputation, and nearly her career and her life, as well.

âLet me go!â she demanded.

âWhere are you going?â he asked. âWeâre stuck in an elevator. So we might as well make the most of this opportunity.â The hand not clutching her hip slid up her back to her head, which he held in his palm while he pressed his mouth to hers.

As their lips connected, Muriel felt a jolt she wanted to attribute to shock. But she knew it was something elseâsomething that had her nipples tightening and heat streaking to her core: lust.

He kissed her tentatively, at first, just skimming his lips across hers. Then she gasped at another jolt of desire, and he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue inside her mouth. His kiss was hot, passionate and wild.

And that was how it made Muriel feel: hot, passionate and wild. She didnât want to desire this man, of all men. But he was so damn good-lookingânot to mention muscular and skilled.

He was a master kisserâso good that he nearly made her come with just a kiss. But then he began to touch her, too, moving his hand from her hip up her side to cup a breast.

She sucked in a breath, which pushed her breast against his palm.

He gently squeezed, and her breath hissed out between their melded lips. And he groaned in response. He pulled back slightly and moved his hand to the buttons on her sweater, easily flicking them open.

She wore a camisole beneath the sweater. But it was one of her friendâs designs, so it was super sexy with bows holding it up at the shoulders. Once heâd pushed the sweater from her shoulders, he reached for one of those bows.

If he pulled it loose, the camisole would slip down, would reveal her breast for him to see and touch...

She wanted his hands on her. She wanted him.

But she couldnât. Not really. Not after what heâd done to herâto her reputation, to her savings and to her sense of self-worth.

The only way she wanted Ronan Hall was...on his knees begging for her forgiveness. And she knew that wasnât very damn likely to happen. Ever.

Not until sheâd inflicted the same hell on him that he had put her through.

CHAPTER TWO

RONANâS HEAD SNAPPED back with the force of her slap. But he only grinned. Even though his cheek was stinging, that kiss had been totally worth it. He could taste her still on his lips. She was so damn sweet.

How could she taste so sweet when she was such a hard and vicious woman? Yeah, heâd needed that slap to bring him to his senses before he did something stupid, like pull that bow loose on her shoulder.

What would she do if he did that? Slap him again? Seeing her without the camisole, that would undoubtedly be worth another slap, though. He could see her tightened nipples pushing against the thin silk. She wore nothing beneath that camisole but her honey-toned skin. He wanted to close his lips around one of those distended nipples and tug at it until she cried out and begged for more.

His fingers still on that bow, he toyed with the end of it. One tug was all it would take.

But then she smacked his hand away and shoved him back with her palm against his chest. âDonât you dare!â

âDonât dare me,â he advised her. He was the kid who would have stuck his tongue on the icy flagpole with the first dare. He wouldnât have even needed to be double dared. He lifted his hand toward her shoulder again.

She jerked up her sweater and wrapped it tightly around herself, as if he would have forcibly undressed her. As if anyone would need to. On all those billboards and magazine covers, she wore barely more than her seductive smile. Usually just a few scraps of lace or silk.

âWhat game are you playing?â he asked her. She was not a modest woman, but she was a cunning one. Those forged documents proved that. âGame?â she asked, her husky voice pitched higher than usual with outrage. âYouâre the one who kissed me.â

âYou trapped us in this elevator and climbed all over me,â he pointed out. Was she trying to seduce him? Or just sexually tease him into madness?

âI fell on you,â she said. âAnd I did not trap you.â

He snorted. âI wasnât the one playing with the control panel, punching in every damn floor before you stopped it entirely.â

âI stopped it,â she said, âbecause I wanted to stop you from harassing Bette anymore.â

âIâm not going to harass Bette,â he said. For oneâSimon would kill him if he did. The guy was already furious with him over some things Ronan had said to her. Poor Simon had fallen hard for his mousy former assistant.

But then, maybe Bette wasnât that mousyâto a guy who liked the sexy librarian type.

That wasnât Ronanâs style. He didnât want someone repressed. He wanted someone as wild and adventurous and as into sex as he was.

Muriel stepped in front of the elevator doors, as if she could stop him. âNo. Youâre not talking to Bette at all anymore.â

He didnât want to talk to Bette. He didnât want to talk at all. He wanted Muriel back in his arms, her body pressed to his. She was the one, the female who might finally match his appetites in the bedroom and wherever else they might dare to do it...

âWeâre stuck here,â he reminded her. And as he said it, the elevator rocked and creaked.

And Muriel gasped and shot forwardâstraight into his arms.

âDid you fall again?â Ronan teased her. âI wouldnât think a supermodel would be as clumsy as you are.â

Despite glaring at him, she remained in his arms with hers locked around his shoulders. âDidnât you feel that? Weâre falling again.â

âIâve never fallen before,â he told her. âSo Iâm not about to fall now...â And especially not for a man-eater like Muriel Sanz.

Then he realized what she meant even before she murmured, âI was talking about the elevator.â Then she started laughing, and as she laughed, she stepped back and dropped her arms from around his shoulders. âI wasnât talking about falling for you. You canât believe I would actually fall for you.â

He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. She made it sound ridiculous that she could care for him. Plenty of other women claimed that they had. But then, he hadnât had the relationship with those other women that he had with her. Actually, he hadnât ever had a real relationship with anyone.

Just sex...

And he would like to have that with her, even though she was trying to destroy his career. Because from that kiss, he knew it would be good between them. Hell, it would be better than good; it might be great.

He hadnât had great in a whileâprobably because every time heâd been with a woman the past few months, heâd imagined that woman was Muriel and heâd been disappointed when heâd realized she wasnât.

âI would never make the mistake of thinking you could love me,â he assured her. âI donât think youâre any more capable of really falling in love than I am.â

âI was married,â she said, âuntil you ended that.â

âYou ended that with your cheating.â

She lifted her hand, but before she could swing it toward his face, he caught her wrist. Through gritted teeth, she told him, âI did not cheat.â

He snorted again, almost amused over her show of righteous indignation. She could be one of those models who easily crossed over into acting; she had the skills. âSo how did your ex find so many witnesses who testified otherwise then?â

Her green eyes widened. âMy ex...? He found the witnesses? I thought you didâyou or that PR firm.â

âYeah, that was your second mistake when you forged those notes that supposedly came from my case files,â he said. âYou made it sound as though I found the witnesses.â He shook his head. âAnd that wasnât true.â

She glared at him. âWhat those witnesses said wasnât true. They perjured themselves and you knew it.â

âAnd that was your first mistake,â he said. He stepped closer now, pressing his chest up against her breasts. âTrying to blame me for your bad choices.â

âBad choices?â she repeated. âMy only bad choice was getting married in the first place.â

He nodded. âIn that, we are in complete agreement. Marriage is always a mistake.â His parentsâ marriage had showed him that. Their constant fighting was why heâd run away from home for a while in his teenage years. âPeople arenât meant to be monogamous.â

âMany people are,â she said.

He shook his head now. âNot people like you and me, Muriel.â He skimmed his fingertips along her jaw, down her throat to push her sweater from one shoulder. Then he toyed with that bow again. He was so tempted to tug it loose. So damn tempted.

His fingers twitched and the bow began to loosen. Then the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

Muriel stepped back through the doors. But as she did, she reached out and struck a button on the control panel. The doors closed as she turned and ran down the hall.

Ronan wasnât sure what floor they had stopped on, or if it had even been her floor, or if she had just really wanted to get away from him. Before he could look at the numbers above the doors, the elevator began to move againâheading downâuntil it stopped in the lobby.

He hesitated a moment before he stepped through the open doors. Heâd changed his mind about trying to apologize to Bette again. It was probably better for Simon if Ronan didnât talk to her at all. He suspected sheâd already told him all that she knew. No. If he wanted to get to the bottom of the documents that had been given to the bar association, he needed to talk to Muriel again. But he would have to do that another timeâbecause if he tracked her down now, after that kiss and seeing her nipples pushing against that camisole, he would do a hell of a lot more than talk to her.

* * *

Legs trembling, heart pounding, Muriel leaned back against her apartment door. Sheâd turned the deadbolt, so even if heâd followed her, he would not be able to get inside her place. But she didnât think heâd followed her. The elevator doors had closed before heâd had a chance to step through them.

But he could track her down...especially now that he knew where sheâd moved after the divorce. While the building was nice, her apartment was smallâmuch smaller than her old place. Maybe Ronan didnât realize she lived here; maybe heâd thought she was just visiting Bette.

Then she should have gotten off on another floor...because she wouldnât put it past him to knock on every door until he found her.

He was furious with her for reporting him to the bar association. Why was he so angry? Because heâd been caught? Or because he hadnât suborned perjury, as heâd tried to claim?

She could understand his anger if heâd done nothing wrong. That was how sheâd felt over her divorce proceedings. Sheâd been maligned in court and in the media, and she hadnât done anything of which sheâd been accused. She had definitely not cheated.

Sheâd taken her vows seriously. Sheâd been monogamous. That was all she knew. Even before sheâd gotten married, sheâd never dated more than one man at a time. And since the disastrous divorce, she hadnât even started dating again.

Maybe that was why Ronan Hall had affected her so much. Or maybe it hadnât been him at all. Maybe it had been the elevator malfunctioning and making her fear that they were about to plunge to their deaths. With her emotions so heightened, it was no wonder she might feel attracted to him.

And it wasnât as if he wasnât good-looking and sexy...

But still, she should hate him, not desire him. And she did hate him.

But what if he wasnât responsible for those witnesses coming forward? What if those memos from his Street Legal law practice had been forged, as heâd claimed?

No. She couldnât believe that. She knew every one of those witnesses whoâd testified. While they hadnât all been close friends of hers, they were acquaintances. They wouldnât have lied about her without some serious coercion. Arte wouldnât have done that. He hadnât been the man sheâd thought he was, but he wasnât a monster or she wouldnât have married him in the first place. Heâd once been so sweet and charming.

No. Ronan Hall was the monster. And she would prove it. In case those memos werenât sufficient evidence, though, she needed to find more.

Ronan had been attracted to her, too. And she didnât think it was because heâd been scared. No. He was attracted to her because of how she looked. Her looks were whyâdespite her reputation being smearedâher career hadnât suffered like sheâd worried it would. Magazines and designers said she sold copy and clothes, maybe even more so since she had become so notorious.

But she hadnât wanted to be notorious. And she was mortified that so many people believed those lies about her and that her grandparentsâthe sweet couple whoâd raised herâhad heard those lies. About affairs and orgies and sex parties...

While they knew her too well to believe them, they had to contend with the comments from their friends, from their fellow parishioners, from their neighbors...

That was why she hated Ronan Hall. Not so much for what heâd done to her as for what heâd done to them. She wanted him to suffer like they had. That was why sheâd turned those papers sheâd received over to the bar association. But maybe she should have had them authenticated first. Sheâd thought Bette had given them to her, though.

But Bette hadnât known anything about them.

So who had delivered that envelope of memos to Murielâs door? And were they real?

She needed to know the truth. And she needed proof of it. The best way to do that was to go directly to the source: Ronan himself.

Could she use her looks to get him to admit to what heâd done? An audio recording of his confession would be indisputable evidence.

But what would she have to do that would compel him to confess? Seduce him?

Instead of disgusting her, the way the idea should have, she was strangely excited by it. Maybe that was just because it had been so long since sheâd been with anyone but her vibrator. While that eased some of her tension, it wasnât like being with a manâlike having his hands and his mouth on her.

Like Ronanâs mouth had been on hers...

Heat flashed through her, and she headed toward her bedroomâand to the vibrator she kept in the table beside the bed. For tonight, it would have to do...while she planned how to seduce Ronan Hall into confessing to his misconduct during her divorce proceedings.

That was what she really wanted. His confession.

Not him...

But she thought of him as she pulled the vibrator from the drawer. From the erection sheâd felt straining against his dress pants, she knew he was bigger than her toy. And if it was possible, maybe harder...

He had wanted her. No matter how much they detested each other, they couldnât deny the attraction between them. And Muriel would use that to her advantage, just like she used thoughts of him as she shrugged off her sweater and pushed down her yoga pants. Then she lay back on the bed, and she imagined Ronan kissing her, touching her...

She tugged one of the bows of her camisole free and began to touch herself. There were two more bows holding her panties together. She undid those as she flipped the switch for the vibrator. And she imagined it was Ronanâs long, hard cock as she slid it inside herself.

She came almost instantly, and to her horror, she cried out his name.

CHAPTER THREE

LIGHTS BLAZED, BUT that wasnât what had sweat beading on Ronanâs brow. The heat flashing through him had nothing to do with the lights and everything to do with the woman posing beneath them.

She wore so very little on her gorgeous bodyâjust some scraps of lace and silk and all that naturally tan skin. Desire slammed through Ronan with a force heâd never felt before. It knocked him back on his heels while making his cock rock hard.

Maybe coming here had been a bad idea.

But he wanted to comeâinside her. He knew she was the only one who could relieve the unbearable tension that had been building in his body since heâd been trapped in the elevator with her a couple of nights ago.

âMuriel!â the photographer shouted at her. âYouâre not giving me what I want!â

She wasnât giving Ronan what he wanted, eitherâbecause he wanted her to untie that bow between the cups of her strapless black bra, wanted her to untie the bows on each hip that held up her panties.

But he wanted more than to see her naked. He wanted to feel her, taste her...and bury himself deep inside her.

Why the hell was he so attracted to this woman? He would have screwed her in the elevator if she hadnât pulled away and slapped him. But sheâd kissed him back before sheâd done that. Was she attracted to him, too?

He was counting on itâso that he could get the truth out of her. That was really why he was here, why heâd tracked her down at her photoshoot. It wasnât for sex.

He could get that anywhere. It wasnât as if he wanted or needed only her. Any woman would do.

No. What he really wanted from Muriel Sanz was the truth.

Her lips curved into a slight smile. âWhat do you want, Lawrence?â

âBad,â the photographer shouted back. âI need you to be bad.â

She was bad, and Ronan had proved that in court. She claimed those witnesses had been lying, though. Why would they lie? Why would they risk perjury charges? Theyâd had nothing to gain from their testimony.

Muriel Sanz was the liar. And Ronan intended to prove it. He just had to get her to admit to forging those memos. Could he seduce her into a confession?

Those witnesses had claimed she was addicted to sex and that was why sheâd cheated on her husband. So if she was addicted to sex, maybe he could get her addicted to sex with himâso addicted that she would confess all to him.

He knew it was possible for a person to get addicted to another person. That had been his fatherâs downfall: his addiction to Ronanâs mother despite how badly sheâd mistreated him. Sheâd been a lot like Muriel Sanzâbeautiful and selfish and completely devoid of a conscience.

âI need you to be the badass of Betteâs Beguiling Bows,â Lawrence said.

This photo shoot was for the line of lingerie Muriel exclusively modeled. That line had been designed by her friend and Simonâs former assistant, Bette Monroe.

He had to admit that Bette had a talent for design. Her lingerie was the sexiest heâd ever seen.

Unfortunately, so was Muriel.

âOh, I can be a badass,â she assured the photographer. But she was looking at Ronan now. He could feel her gaze on him, and his skin began to heat even more. She raised her husky voice a little more, probably making certain he would hear, and added, âI can be very, very bad...â

Ronan chuckled. Sheâd already started confessing...and he hadnât even touched her yet.

The camera clicked.

She ran her fingertips down her deep cleavage to the bow between her breasts. And she toyed with the ends the way heâd toyed with the bow the other night...in the elevator.

Too bad that bow hadnât been between her breasts, too. Then he could have touched her, like she was touching herself.

As she stroked her fingertips up and down her cleavage, she sank her teeth into her bottom lip then swiped her tongue across it.

And Ronan groaned. The photographer echoed the sound and shot a glance at him. Instead of admonishing him for trespassing on the set, the guy grinned at him. âYou must be the reason for that sudden spark in her eyes,â Lawrence said. âYou made her bad.â

Ronan chuckled. âNobody made Muriel that way.â Least of all him. Sheâd already been bad.

âIâm good,â she said. And she tilted her head provocatively. âVery, very good...â

And both men groaned again.

Lawrence muttered, âNow I understand why her ex...â

âWhat?â Ronan asked when the guy trailed off. âWhy he what?â Divorced her or married her?

The photographer just shook his head. âYou can stay,â he told Ronan. âBut donât distract me.â

âWhat about me?â Muriel asked.

âHeâs a good distraction for you,â Lawrence said.

Could he be? Could Ronan distract her enough that she would withdraw her complaint to the bar association?

He had to try, at least. That was why he was here. That and the fact that thoughts of her and that damn kiss had been keeping him awake.

He wanted more than a kiss.

* * *

He was not a good distraction for her. But as Muriel peered over Lawrenceâs shoulder at the computer monitor at the thumbnails of all the photos the photographer had taken, she couldnât deny that Ronan had certainly inspired her. This was by far the best shoot sheâd ever had and she had been modeling since she was fourteen years oldâmore than a decade.

âIf youâre not going to take that man out for a drink, I will,â Lawrence said. âHe got you to the money shots, baby!â He turned around and kissed her lips. âYou have never looked more gorgeous!â

Muriel chuckled at the photographerâs enthusiasm. âIâm sure heâs already gone.â

She couldnât imagine why he had showed up to begin with...unless he was after the same thing she was.

The truth...

He probably wanted to know how sheâd gotten her hands on the memos sheâd turned over to the bar association. At least he must have finally accepted that Bette hadnât given them to her. That was good. She never would have used them had she known the problems it would cause for her friend.

âIâm still here,â a deep voice murmured.

That was not good.

She glanced up to find his long, muscular body leaning against the doorjamb of Lawrenceâs office. He was wearing a suit; he must have come either straight from the office or from court. Who elseâs life was he ruining?

She was afraid it might be hers again if she dared to try her plan to seduce him into a confession. Could she take the chance?

âI can leave,â he offered, âif Iâm interrupting...â

âYou interrupted the shoot,â she said. âAnd you didnât offer to leave then.â Hours ago. He had stayed through changes in wardrobe, hair, makeup and backdrops.

Why had he stayed so long?

âHe improved the shoot,â Lawrence said. âYour best work ever...â He turned back to the computer monitor with all the frames and murmured, âMaybe mine, too.â

A little thrill chased through Muriel, but she worried it had less to do with the praise than with how Ronan was looking at her, with how heâd been looking at her the past couple of hours. With every wardrobe change, his eyes had gotten darker and his body even more tense. Despite the way he was leaning now, she could feel that tension; it fairly radiated from him.

So that she felt it, tooâcoiling low in her body, pulsing in her clit. She couldnât remember ever wanting a man more, which was crazy. She had been in love before and hadnât felt this powerful attraction. But this manâthis man she hatedâshe wanted more than any other.

Maybe she had lost her damn mind. That was the excuse she was going to use for what she was about to do. âSo, how about it?â she asked as she walked toward the doorway. âDo you want to go for a drink?â

His dark eyes narrowed as if he was as suspicious of her offer as she was of his showing up at the photo shoot. Now a little chill moved through Muriel, raising goose bumps on her skin despite her having changed into street clothes of jeans and a sweater. She hadnât felt a chill like this when heâd been staring at her, when sheâd been wearing nothing more than a bra and panties. Then she had felt hotter than hell. And it showed in those photos.

But wondering how heâd tracked her down unnerved her. How had he found her?

She hesitated as she neared the doorway where he stood. But then he stepped back into the hall. âI didnât come here just to watch,â he said. âThatâs not my thing...â

She narrowed her eyes with suspicion. Was it just that everything he said sounded like sexual innuendo or was he actually implying that there was something between her and Lawrence?

Of course, he had seen Lawrence kiss her. But Lawrence kissed everyone. Everyone.

âGood night,â she called back to the photographer. He barely glanced up from the computer monitor to wave.

As she walked down the hall of the old warehouse, she turned to Ronan and asked, âWhy did you come here? And how did you find me?â

âI have my sources,â he said.

And that chilled her blood even more. âI am well aware of that,â she said. âBut I canât believe they actually got it right this time.â

He stopped at the elevator and turned toward her, his dark eyes narrowed. âSo all those witnesses were lying and youâre the only one telling the truth?â

âYes,â she said. Her grandparents had raised her with valuesâone of which being that it was never okay to lie, not even little white ones. Too bad those witnesses hadnât been raised the same way she had.

âWhy would everyone else lie?â Ronan asked her.

âYou tell me,â she challenged him. âDid you pay them?â He must have. What else could they have had to gain, except for some time in the horrible spotlight that the scandal had shone on her?

He chuckled. But he didnât answer her question. He just turned and pressed the button for the elevator.

What would it take to get him to confess to somehow coercing those witnesses into lying? He was rich. So he didnât need money. He had probably used his own to pay them off since Arte hadnât had much money until heâd taken most of her savingsâand the apartment and carâin the divorce. He didnât even know how to drive.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open with a swoosh of noise and air. Muriel sucked in a breath at the thought of getting into another elevator with Ronan Hall.

He stepped back and waited for her to pass through the doors in front of him. âCome on,â he said. âAs long as you donât mess with the control panel this time, weâll be fine.â

She hesitated. âWe could take the stairs...â It would probably be saferâfor a few reasons.

âWeâre on the twelfth floor,â he reminded her. âDid you take the stairs up?â

âNo.â

âSo you donât have a problem with using the elevator,â he said as if he was cross-examining her again, the way he had on the witness stand. âYou just have a problem with taking the elevator with me.â

While his cross-examination had been ruthless, he hadnât shaken her. But then, sheâd had the resolve of the truth on her side. He didnât have that, so maybe she could shake him. But she was not going to get a confession out of him unless she was alone with him. Dare she go through with her plan? Dare she be alone with him?

Because she knew what was going to happen...

The attraction between them was too strongâso strong that it could probably even overpower the anger and resentment and distrust between them.

She stepped into the elevator car. And when she automatically reached for the control panel, she pulled her hand back to her side. She was not going to risk getting stuck with him again.

He chuckled as he stepped inside with her. Then he reached for the panel. She didnât see which button he pushed; she just assumed it was for the lobby. In the heart of the Garment District, the buildingâs tenants were mostly fashion designers along with a few photographers. There was no place to have a drink there.

Muriel really needed that drink. Hell, she needed more than a drink. She couldnât remember the last time sheâd eaten. And she was not the type of model who starved herself. She enjoyed food too much.

Fortunately, the fashion industry appreciated curves now over skin and bones. Or she wouldnât have been able to get any work. Now she was sought after...

Professionally. Personallyânot so much. Men werenât eager to date the man-eater the media had painted her as being. Sheâd overheard people talking about how she was too intimidating to the opposite sex now.

Ronan Hall hadnât appeared too intimidated the other night. And he must not have been or he wouldnât have sought her out again.

The doors closed, shutting them into the stark car together. This elevator wasnât nearly as fancy as the one in her building; it was all bare metal and wood, and it was biggerâbig enough to carry crates of garments from one floor to the next.

She didnât have to stand anywhere near Ronan. But it didnât matter how far away she was from him; she could feel his presence. It was as if electricity arced between his body and hers.

Her skin tingled, and her blood heated, pumping hot and fast through her veins. âWe should go somewhere with a kitchen,â she said. âIâm hungry, too.â

She felt a hollowness inside, but she wasnât sure that it was one food could fill. Maybe only he could...

He reached for the panel again, jabbed a button and the elevator shuddered to a stop.

âIâm hungry, too,â he said as he reached for her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and reeled her in until her body pressed against his. He was so big, so broad, so tense.

His erection strained against his pantsâand against her hips. Instinctively she arched and rubbed against him, and he groaned.

âAnd with every outfit you changed into, I got hungrier,â he said.

âYou didnât have to stay.â But sheâd been glad that he was still thereâevery time she had stepped out of the dressing room after a wardrobe change. Sheâd wanted him to see what she was wearing; sheâd wanted him to see her, and sheâd wanted to see his reaction.

âI couldnât leave,â he said, his voice gruffer now as if he was in pain.

âWhy not?â she asked.

âBecause I didnât get what I came for...â

âAnd what did you come for?â she asked.

He lowered his head to hers and kissed herâdeeplyâhungrily. His lips moved over hers, nibbling and plucking at them until she gasped with pleasure.

âI came for you,â he said, his voice a gruff whisper. âI came for this...â

His hands moved over her, lifting her sweater up and over her head. He uttered a lustful sigh. âI was hoping you were still wearing this...â

It was the black bra with the bow in the middle. Bette was a genius designer. She somehow made the bras so that the one bow held the cups together and provided support. Murielâs breasts swelled over the top of it.

âWhy?â she asked, and she wasnât faking the breathlessness in her voice. Her heart was racing so fast that she could barely draw any air into her lungs. But as she tried, her breasts swelled even more and nearly spilled over the top of the black bra.

Ronan reached for that bow, tugging on the ribbons, and the bra fell away, freeing her breasts. She panted for air now as excitement coursed through her. Her nipples tightened and ached for more than the touch of his gaze.

âThatâs why,â he replied. âIâve been dying to undo that bow.â

Muriel had been modeling lingerie and swimsuits for most of her career, so she had long ago gotten over any qualms she might have had about modesty. But there was something about the way that Ronan Hall was looking at her that made her feel more naked than she had ever felt before.

He wasnât just looking at her body. It was as if he was trying to peer into her heart and soul. Maybe he was wondering if she had one.

She did. She doubted that he did, though. So what the hell was she doing getting half-naked in an elevator with the man who had nearly destroyed her?

CHAPTER FOUR

RONANâS HEART POUNDED in his chest and in his cock. He couldnât believe how damn beautiful she was. Her breasts were full and perfect mounds, her nipples ripe and rosy. He wanted to close his lips around one so badly. But when he reached for her, she stepped back.

Her green eyes widened with panic and she lifted her hands to cover her breasts.

He glanced around the elevator. Was there a security camera in it? He hadnât thought about that, although he should have. But after watching that photo shoot, he hadnât been able to think at all. He had only been able to feel, the desire coursing through him.

He wanted her more than he could remember ever wanting anyone else. He wanted to become an addiction for her, but now he was afraid that it might be the other way aroundâand that was before heâd even had her.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should be taking a step back like she had. He felt a punch of the same panic he saw on her face. But it wasnât nearly as strong as the punch of desire that had his stomach tightened into knots.

âWhat the hell are we doing?â she asked, her voice shaking with horror.

He shrugged. It wasnât as if he could admit to wanting to seduce her into telling the bar association the truth. She might not even know what the truth was anymore. His mother had gotten that wayâso caught up in her own lies that sheâd begun to believe them.

âI hate you,â she told him, her voice shaking with anger. âI hate what you did to me.â

And now he felt another kind of punchâof regret. But heâd only been doing his jobâgetting the best deal for his client. âI didnât do anything...â

...That she hadnât had coming. Sheâd put her husband through hell. He hadnât seen a man that broken since his father. He flinched as he felt that jolt of panic again. But he didnât have to worry. He wasnât like her ex or his father; he was too smart to fall for a pretty face. Hell, he was too smart to fall for any face. Ever...

Her breath hissed out between her teeth. And she leaned down to grab her bra up from the floor of the elevator. âHow can you say you didnât do anything? You hired a PR firm to smear me!â

âItâs not like your career suffered for it,â he pointed out. âIn fact, I think the whole trial helped your career.â Now everyone knew her name and her face, whereas before they might have only known her body. While she had been modeling lingerie and swimsuits for years, she hadnât become famous until her divorce drama.

She shook her head, and her titian hair swirled around her bare shoulders. She had yet to put on the bra. She still held her arms across her breasts.

He wanted to see them again. He wanted to touch them. Taste them...

âYou should be thanking me,â he said, grinning as he goaded her.

She lifted one hand away from her breasts to swing it toward his face. But before her palm could connect, he caught her wrist and jerked her body against his.

âThatâs not how you thank someone,â he admonished her. And he lowered his face to hers. âThis is how you thank someone...â The minute he touched his lips to hers, he forgot all about teasing her. Or the panic heâd felt.

He forgot everything but how much he wanted her. Her soft breasts pushed against his chest, and he could feel the tightness of her nipples through the thin silk of his dress shirt. He swallowed a groan as his body tensed and throbbed with desire. Then he swallowed her moan when a soft one slipped through her parted lips. He deepened the kiss.

He slid his tongue inside her mouth, and she stroked hers over his. They mated and tangled around each other, teasing, tasting...

It was the hottest kiss heâd ever hadâall panting breath and moans. It was wet and wild. And he wanted her the same way. He wanted her wet and wild for him. So he eased her body back from his, and he touched her.

He moved his hands over her beautiful breasts, skimming his fingertips over her silky soft skin before stroking them over her tightened nipples.

She moaned again.

Then he lowered his head to her breasts and he replaced his fingers with his lips, closing them over one of those taut nipples. He gently tugged, teasing her.

Her hands slid into his hair, grasping his head. But she didnât pull him away. She clutched him closer. Her fingers moved from his head to his neck, and she jerked his tie loose before tackling his buttons. Once she parted his shirt, she raked her nails down his chest.

His stomach clenched as desire punched him hard in the gut. He pulled back, but she followed him, pressing her breasts to his bare chest. She felt so good against him, so damn good in his arms.

He tightened his arms around her and just held her for a moment. But his body heated and the tension built. And just holding her would not be enough.

He had to have herâhad to taste herâhad to be inside her. He moved his hands to her waist and undid the button of her jeans. The zipper rasped as he lowered it. And his pulse pounded harder from the noise. Sheâd let him do that, just as sheâd let him take off her sweater and bra. But would she let him push down the jeans?

She stepped back before he could reach for them. And his breath caught and trapped in his lungs. She was going to stop him.

He could understand why...

She blamed him for her coming out on the losing end of her divorce and in the media. But, as heâd pointed out, it hadnât hurt her career any, not like she was trying to hurt his by turning in those forged memos to the bar association. Since sheâd done that, he should be so damn mad that he shouldnât be attracted to her at all.

And he was damn mad, more pissed off than he could remember being in a long time. But even then he couldnât find her repulsive. She was too damn beautiful and sexy to resist. Not that he wanted to resist.

He wanted her too much for that and, more important, he wanted her to want him too much.

But he wouldnât be able to do that if she kept stopping him.

She just stared at him now, her gaze on his bare chest like a caress. He could feel her touch, feel her skin even though a couple of feet separated them now.

Then she took another step back and turned away from him toward the control panel. He held his breath, waiting for her touch a button and get the elevator moving again.

But if she were going to do that, wouldnât she first put her bra back on and her sweater? Instead of reaching for her discarded clothes, though, she pushed down her jeans and revealed a tiny bow on a G-string at the top of her perfect ass.

Ronan fisted his hands at his sides so he wouldnât reach for her. Just because sheâd undressed didnât mean she intended to have sex with him. Maybe she only intended to torture him. Maybeâlike turning those documents over to the barâit was her way of getting revenge on him.

Seeing her like thisâso bare and beautifulâand not being able to have her, might be worse than losing his law license...

* * *

What the hell was she doing? Muriel asked herself the question again, but like before, she couldnât come up with an answer. Sure, she knew what sheâd thought she was doing: carrying out the plan sheâd concocted to bring Ronan Hall to his knees and get him to tell her the truth.

But nobody brought men like Ronan Hall to their knees. Not women. Not men...

They were too tough. Too powerful.

In their lives and most especially in the bedroom. Sheâd heard all the stories about himânot just how ruthless he was in court but how ruthless he was in relationships. Sheâd worked with some of his ex-girlfriends. He was always the one whoâd ended things and always too soon for the women concerned.

No matter how ruthless heâd been, the women had wanted more. Some had even admitted begging.

So Muriel was the one who needed to worry about being brought to her knees. Again.

Heâd already done it onceâin the courtroom. Now she had to worry about him doing it here. Because when he touched her...

When he kissed her...

He made her want him more than sheâd ever wanted anyone before. Just like all those other women had told her.

He wasnât kissing or touching her now. She could put her clothes back on and restart the elevator. But when she bent over to pull up her jeans, a strange noise filled the car.

It was raw and guttural, a groan full of pain, as if the man whoâd uttered it was being tortured. Ronan was the only other one inside the elevator, so she turned toward him.

He was on his knees now. But even on his knees, his head was above her waist. He was so damn tall and broad.

And so damn sexy.

His breath was hot as it whistled between his clenched teeth and brushed across her abdomen. Her stomach muscles tightened as tension wound inside her, streaking from her nipples down to her core.

âYouâre perfect,â he murmured as his lips brushed across her skin.

She could have snorted and reminded him that that was not what heâd claimed in court. Then she had been anything and everything but perfect.

But she couldnât say anything. She couldnât even move. She was frozen as she waited for him to touch her again.

His lips skimmed softly across her stomach to her hip, then lower over the lace of her panties. And through the thin lace, she could feel his hot breath move over her mound. He touched her with his hands, too. They moved to her ass, cupping it in his palms. And somehow his fingers must have tugged so gently at the bow that she hadnât felt it release. But her panties fell.

And nothing separated his mouth from the essence of her. He flicked his tongue back and forth across her clit as he lifted her, moving her legs over his shoulders. Then he feasted on herâsucking on her before sliding his tongue inside her.

And Muriel melted, heat and pleasure flooding her. He lapped at herâlicking and sucking and driving her out of her mind. She whimpered, moaned and arched back. Without the wall of the elevator behind her, she might have fallen. The wood was cold and hard against her back. But she didnât care.

She had the heat and strength of Ronan. She clutched at his head as he continued to move his mouth over her. His tongue flicked and teased. And he raised one of his hands to her breast, sliding his palm over it and the taut nipple.

She cried out as she came, the orgasm shuddering through her with such intensity that tears burned her eyes. And she understood why women begged him for more.

Despite that release, she wanted more.

He hadnât pulled back. He continued to lap at her as if he couldnât get enough of the taste of her orgasm. But that wasnât what she wanted now.

She wanted him. She wanted to feel him inside her.

She slid her legs off his shoulders and tried to stand. But her body was too limp from pleasure, her muscles too loose. And her legs folded until she was on her knees in front of him. Sheâd already opened his shirt, so she pushed that and his suitcoat from his shoulders. Then she reached for his belt.

But he caught her hand.

And she wondered now if he was going to stop her. She froze as she remembered all the times that had happened in her marriage. She wasnât the sex addict that her ex and those witnesses had claimed she was. But sheâd certainly needed it more than her husband had.

Heâd had an excuse every time. He hadnât felt well. Or he was tired.

But sheâd always wondered if it was her fault. If she just wasnât that desirable...

But Ronanâs dark eyes burned with desire for her. His thumb stroked over her wrist, over her leaping pulse. His voice was a rough rasp when he murmured, âIf you touch me now, Iâm going to come right away. And I want this to last.â

So did she.

But just his wordsâand that gruff, sexy way heâd uttered themâhad her on the verge of coming again, especially when his gaze moved over her like a caress.

He licked his lips, which were wet with her orgasm. And he groaned. âYou taste so damn sweet. I could go down on you all night.â

âWe donât have all night,â she reminded him. They only had until someone noticed the elevator wasnât moving and got working on the problem. âWe have to hurry.â

She didnât care if he came quickly. She just needed him to comeâinside her. With a condom, of course, though. She always practiced safe sex. She reached for the bag sheâd dropped onto the floor. She had to have some inside.

Didnât she?

She didnât need it. Ronan pulled one from his wallet. Then he was standing. He unclasped his belt and unzipped his pants.

Her breath caught and held as she waited for him to push them and his silk boxers down, and when he did, she released that breath on a gasp of shock and awe. He was hugeâso long and thick and throbbing...

She wanted to touch him with her hands and with her mouth. She wanted to suck on him the way heâd sucked on her. But when she reached for him, he caught his fingers in her hair.

âWe donât have time,â he reminded her. And there was regret in his voice.

He wanted her to go down on him. She could see it on his face as he stared at her kneeling in front of him. She flicked her tongue out to tease him and that same groan of torture heâd uttered before filled the elevator car.

But he stepped out of his pants. And he ripped open the packet and sheathed himself in the latex condom. He must have had them specially ordered because it covered more of him than she imagined any store-bought ones would have.

âYou are so big...â she murmured breathlessly as a moment of fear flicked through her. Would he fit?

She couldnât wait to find out. She lay down on the floor of the elevator. And as he watched, she ran her hand down her bodyâfrom her throat over her breasts, down her abdomen, to where she was already wet and throbbing. As she moved her fingers over her mound, she moaned and squirmed, so ready for him.

And that groan tore out of him again. âYouâre going to make me come just looking at you,â he warned her. But then he dropped to his knees again.

Instead of moving between her legs, though, he lifted her so she straddled his thighs. Then he lifted her more, and she nearly stood so she could ease herself down onto his cock. She guided him inside her, her inner muscles rippling and grasping at him. Even as wet and ready as she was, she had to stretch and arch to accommodate his girth. She could feel his cock pulsating with the same desire that filled her.

And the tension was on his handsome face, in the beads of perspiration on his brow and the rigidness of his clenched jaw. He lowered his head and kissed her. And as his tongue slid into her mouth, he thrust deeper into her body. His hands caught her hips, and he guided her down, then up.

They moved together in a frantic rhythm as the pressure built inside...

Muriel nearly sobbed with the need for release. She was close to something she instinctively knew would be more powerful than anything sheâd felt before.

With just his mouth, heâd given her an overpowering orgasm. With that cock...

That enormous, throbbing cock...

She couldnât imagine the pleasure he could give her. Then she didnât have to imagine, as her muscles began to clench. He reached between them and flicked his thumb over her clitâonce, twice...

And she screamed as pleasure gripped her. She came and came...

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