hall to her private office, and was not too subtle about it. Scott’s high-octave screaming didn’t help, either.
Everyone came running. Emma waved off her bodyguard and reassured her assistant as she followed in Mark’s footsteps. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked in a harsh whisper as she shut her door.
Mark barely spared her a glance. “Get out of here, Emma.”
“Absolutely not.” She used her best judge tone to convey her anger over his disrespect.
If Mark picked up on her mood he didn’t let on.
“This is between me and young Scott here.” Mark’s face flushed with fury as he dropped Scott into the nearest chair and held him there.
She feared he’d kill Scott if she moved away. “This is my office,” she said, trying to break through the irrational mood that gripped Mark.
“This is my case.”
Dread settled in her stomach. “What has happened?”
“Your clerk has the starring role on the security tapes of Ben’s office.”
“No, Judge Blanton. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.” Scott shook with fear as he tried to get up.
Mark grabbed Scott by the collar and shoved him down again. “Shut up.”
“But you’ve got this all wrong.” Scott’s voice grew louder as he tried to reassure Mark of his innocence.
“I have eyes, Scott.”
And the strength of the devil. Emma stepped up, hoping to calm both men with her presence. “Tell me what’s going on,” she said as she unwrapped Mark’s fingers from Scott’s shirt.
Scott rubbed his arm from the spot of Mark’s earlier viselike hold. “Someone gave me the note.”
Mark scoffed. “Nice story.”
Mark’s anger and Scott’s fear still didn’t rise to the level of an explanation for her. “I don’t understand why you’re all over my clerk.”
“He’s there on the security tapes. I watched it myself. He came down the hall and slid the threatening letter under Ben’s door.” Mark turned his wrath back on Scott. “I want to know why.”
“I just delivered a message. I do that all the time.”
“It’s true, he does,” she said.
Mark wasn’t ready to calm down. “If that’s true, why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”
Emma shifted through the information in her mind. “He was probably afraid you’d kill him.”
“I might yet.”
They barely made it inside the front door of her apartment before Ben pinned Callie against the wall. In their rush of entwined legs and arms, they knocked over a small table in the entry, sending something glass crashing to the floor. He heard the shattering fall as he shoved the front door shut with his foot.
He hoped whatever had broken didn’t matter much to her, because he couldn’t stop to investigate even if he wanted to. And he didn’t. The sole purpose of his wanting stood locked in his arms with her hand on his ass.
Everything moved in a haze of color and light. He remembered making a somewhat clumsy pass at her in his office and then struggling to drive his car while she shouted out directions and slid her hand along his inner thigh. The only thing that saved them from an accident where he wrapped his car around a tree was the desire to get her home and naked. No way was he checking out of this world before he got that opportunity. He stayed focused for that reason alone.
But they were home now. In her domain, where she would be comfortable and in charge. Where he could learn every inch of her skin without worrying about Mark busting in or anything stopping them. Where he could run the live version of the movie that had been playing in his head, the one where she could give free rein to the energy burning through her and use that hot mouth of hers for something other than giving him shit.
The threats and frustration faded into the far distance. Whatever or whoever plagued him and wanted him dead could wait. He concentrated solely on Callie—the eager touch of her hands and fierce heat of her kiss. Nothing else mattered but that.
Their bodies rolled against the wall until he moved them out of the way of the broken glass. Sharp breaths mixed with searching hands as their mouths slanted over each other again and again. Need flushed through Ben until all he could think about was getting her onto any flat surface and peeling that navy suit right off her.
Blond hair spread over white sheets as he pushed deep inside her. Yeah, he had been dreaming about that one since he met her.
“Lock the door,” she whispered against his lips.
This was one order he didn’t mind her giving. “At your service.”
He left her for the second it took to throw the bolt, then he came back even more eager to pull her close. Fingers dove through her hair and knocked the barrette loose. Silky strands fell over his hands and across her shoulders. Long and smooth. Just as he imagined.
And he wasn’t alone in searching. Her hands moved to his belt, shifting and tugging until he felt the tightness around his waist loosen. The belt hit the floor. When his fingers returned to the button at the top of his pants, his stomach dipped, giving her easier access to ripping the clothes right off him. The kiss in her hair, the brushing of his palms over her collarbone, all of it allowed her to take the lead. To be ready on her terms.
The clicking of his zipper got him moving again. He chanted her name as he stripped off his jacket and dropped it to the floor. Without breaking a kiss he reached for her blouse. One, two, three. The pearl buttons slipped from their holes, revealing miles of creamy skin and a pink lace bra that begged for sex.
But he didn’t need an invitation. He rubbed his palms over her breasts, learning every curve and caressing until her back arched and her nipples puckered. A finger eased under the material’s thin edge, giving him access to her bare skin. When he folded the silk back and slid a thumb across the plump top of her breast, she broke off the kiss and stared down at her chest.
Every time his thumb passed over her nipple, her body jumped in response. Her high, round breasts lifted and fell on harsh breaths.
“Bedroom,” she said in a breathy voice.
He wanted to do the romantic thing and carry her to the bed, but his erection pounded too hard to let him do it. “Can’t make it.”
She glanced over his shoulder, her eyes wild with need. “Sofa.”
“Yes.” Hell, the wall worked for him. He still couldn’t believe they made it out of the car and up a flight of stairs to the front door without peeling their clothes off.
She grabbed his hand and dragged him into her small living room. A couch and a chair and…some other piece of furniture. He didn’t really give a shit what. All he wanted was her. He could do an inventory later. Maybe after they had sex six or seven times and his dick no longer threatened to burst.
But all of his good intentions fled when she dropped down on the cushions in front of him. The sexy move put her eye level with the part of him that was most desperate for her. She didn’t play games or hesitate. No, she knew exactly what they both wanted. She slid her hand inside his pants, under the elastic of his briefs and straight to his cock. Her fingers squeezed, caressing his tip before sliding down the length of him.
His knees buckled.
Seeing her hair fall over his lower body made him rock hard. He wondered how he would survive the delicate torture of her exploration. When she took him between her lips and down her throat, he knew he wouldn’t. His body bucked and trembled. Every time she eased him back out of her mouth, his hips tensed and pushed forward as if his lower body could not tolerate the separation from her.
The gentle