Page 28 of Final Verdict
“I…” I tilt my head to the side. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jameson.”
“Don’t play fucking stupid with me.” He steps forward and I step back. Then he does it again, cornering me until my back is against the wall.
“You’re here because you know that case is coming up again,” he says. “You think you’re going to distract me from handling that?”
“Case on what?”
His eyes glaze over, and suddenly he’s not talking to me anymore. He’s talking at me.
“The Uber bullshit wasn’t a coincidence, and neither was your bullshit backstory.” He places his hands on the panels behind me, caging me in. “They knew I might be inclined to help a beautiful woman, so they’re trying to see if they can rattle me.”
“Who arethey?”
“I know what you’re up to, and I have over a decade on playing this goddamn game, so?—”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Jameson?” I interrupt him. “Where the hell is this even coming from?”
He says nothing.
He just stares.
His eyes slowly shift from a glazed-over gray to the stunning emerald I’ve been longing to see in person for quite a while.
Whatever the hell that trance was, he’s out of it, and he looks somewhat apologetic.
“If I was good at planning things, I wouldn’t be in half of the situations I’m in right now,” I say. “And, I have no idea why you’re spouting off conspiracy theories, but... I really did get into your Uber—I mean—Porsche by mistake.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Doyou?”
He presses his lips against mine for the answer, pinning me to the wall with his hips.
His kiss overpowers all my senses, and I moan as his hands slide down lower and grip my waist.
I feel his cock stiffening through the fabric of his pants, and he kisses me even harder.
Turned on, I unbuckle his pants and slide my hands inside them, gasping as I feel his thickness under my fingers.
I rub my hand up and down his cock, my breathing slowing as I imagine how he would feel deep inside me.
As if he can read my mind, he unzips my pants and pushes my panties to the side.
His thumb caresses my clit, and he lets out a groan.
“Push your pants down so I can eat your pussy...” he whispers against my mouth. “Now...”
I hesitate, and he takes that as defiance, torturing my clit with a harder rhythm, punishing my mouth with an even deeper kiss.
Whispering against my mouth, he commands, “I’m not going to ask you again...”
Ding!
The sound of the elevator makes us tear apart, shattering our moment.
He adjusts his pants, and I adjust mine, too.
“You can leave here with me for drinks,” he says, his voice low as footsteps sound from afar. “I’ll bring you right back.”
