His Valentine Triplets. Tina Leonard

“I know.” Rafe framed her face with his hands. “And it makes me so damn sad I just don’t know what to do.” He kissed her gently, then with more thoroughness as he felt some of the stiffness go out of her. “We geeks never get the beautiful girls.”

       She blinked, pulling back. “Geeks?”

       “Yeah. You know, those of us who think too much, when we should be men of action.” He moved his hands down her shoulders, down her arms, and began kissing along her neck. God, she smelled good. He had a stiff one of epic proportions sitting in his jeans, and the call of the wild firing his blood. “I’m guilty of thinking too much, when I should be going after what I want.”

       He circled her waist, holding her to him, and kissed the hollow of her throat.

       “Rafe—”

       “Mmm?”

       “Is this about the court case?”

       He pulled back a moment. “Is what about the court case?”

       “This.”

       He looked into her dark eyes, completely confused. His mind was totally fogged by Julie, her sweet perfume, her sexy mouth—and then he realized what she was asking. “God, no, love. I compartmentalize much better than that.” He couldn’t help the grin that split his face. “I may be a thinker, but I’m not that good, sweetie. This is all about trying to get under the robe of the most beautiful girl in Diablo.”

       Julie seemed to consider his words. Rafe was pretty certain he should strike while the iron was hot. Clearly, she was of two minds about letting him kiss her, and the fact was, he wasn’t about to let Julie out of his grasp. He remembered far too well how wonderful it had felt to be inside her. So he did what any normal, red-blooded man would do when faced with an uncertain female: he staked his flag on Venus. Pushing up Julie’s robe and dress and everything else that was in his way, he slid off the desk and kissed her soft tummy. She gasped, and he ran his hands under her buttocks.

       “What are these?” he asked, staring at the darling little pink straps holding up her stockings. Julie looked like a Victorian saloon girl, and he was pretty certain he was so hard right now diamonds couldn’t chip him.

       “Garters,” Julie said. “And a thong.”

       “Pretty,” Rafe said, and moved the thong so that he could kiss her the way he wanted to. Gently, he licked and kissed and tasted her, and when her knees were about to buckle, he pushed her into her desk chair where he could kiss her to his heart’s content. He’d waited a long time for this moment, and when he could tell she was about to rip his hair out by the roots, he licked inside her, taking great pleasure in her gasping cries as she climaxed.

       He wanted to just sit and look at her for a second, all disheveled in her black robe, but she shocked him by grabbing his belt. “Wait,” he said, “just a minute, Julie. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t—”

       She cut off his words with urgent kisses. Okay, he wanted her to do everything. She was pulling at him, trading places with him, and the next thing Rafe knew, he was sitting in the tall-backed black leather chair and Julie was sliding down him, clutching his shoulders as if she was afraid he was going to disappear.

       What could he do but give her exactly what she wanted? “Hang on,” he said, crushing her bare buttocks in his hands so that he could hold her tightly to him. He thought he was going to black out from the pleasure. Julie gasped against his neck, then tore off the judge’s robe and threw it on the floor.

       “Let me help you.” Rafe undid the frilly white blouse she had on, tossing it away. That left a sweet ivory bra, but he was a pro with bras, and he had that hanging over a law book before Julie could realize that she now was seated on him wearing nothing but a soft peach skirt, pink garters and black heels. I’m living a dream, Rafe thought, taking in Julie’s breasts, which were beautiful, shapely, peach-nippled. He wanted to grab them, but his hands were full of her soft buttocks and he had her right where he wanted her, so when she rose on a thrust and wrapped her arms around his neck, and her breasts engulfed his face, he was profoundly grateful. He sucked in a nipple before it could get away, and Julie stiffened on him, giving him a very pleasurable jolt where it counted.

       “Oh, Rafe,” she murmured. “Oh, God, don’t stop.”

       He didn’t. He suckled, and thrust, and touched, and invaded. And when Julie tightened up on him, giving a tiny muffled shriek of pleasure as she came, Rafe held on for just a moment longer, making sure he’d never forget this moment, before letting himself surrender to the magic of Julie.

       He was pretty certain he’d rested his case, and that the jury had found him more than irresistible.

      TEN MINUTES LATER, RAFE tried to help Julie dress.

       “I’ve got it, thanks.” She swept his hands away, fixing her robe and her skirt. He could tell she didn’t want to meet his gaze, so he pushed his white shirt into his dress jeans and straightened his tie.

       Tidied up, Julie regained her professional demeanor. “This is awkward.”

       “Not really.” Rafe stole another kiss, which he noticed she didn’t return. Well, of course, she needed time to process how much she wanted him. He grinned. “See you in court.”

       Julie didn’t smile. “Remember, please. Respect, Mr. Callahan.”

       “Oh, I do, Judge.” Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips. “I respect the hell out of you.”

       She jerked away. Rafe saluted her and went to the door. Then he turned, catching her eyeing his butt just before she realized he’d found her staring. “Next time, this is going to happen in a bed.”

       Her cheeks pinked. “There won’t be a next time.”

       He smiled at her. “The thing is, as good as it is between us in all these hot locations you pick out, Julie, I could make you feel so much better in a private place where I can spend hours giving you pleasure you’d never forget.”

       She gasped. “Go!”

       He nodded, drinking in her straight posture with appreciation. She was a darling little thing, so prim and bad by turns. My God, he loved a woman with sass, one who said no but begged so prettily, too. He didn’t tell her that her hair was slightly mussed—actually, she looked like a Barbie doll that had gotten caught in a windstorm—and he didn’t tell her that her lipstick was shot. Nor did he tell her that somehow she’d forgotten to put her bra back on. It was still draped over a law book in the corner of her office.

       “Thank you, Julie,” he said softly, meaning every word, and then he left her chambers and returned to sit beside Sam.

       “Where the hell have you been?” his brother demanded. “I brought you a hot dog.”

       “Thanks. I’m starved.”

       “So, did she read you the riot act?”

       “Pretty much.” Rafe bit into the cold hot dog, moaning with satisfaction.

       “Did you apologize for pissing her off?”

       “I did. I apologized the only way I know how. Is this soda for me?”

       Sam nodded. “And did she accept your apology?”

       “She did. She accepted everything.” Rafe chewed his hot dog happily, feeling like a new man, thanks to his encounter with Julie. “She’s a very generous woman.”

       “I’ll say she’s generous if she accepted your dopey apology.” Sam sighed. “I hope you didn’t do anything to change her mind about recusing herself.”

       Rafe froze. “Uh…”

       Julie swept into the courtroom. Everyone rose as the bailiff instructed, then seated themselves again. Rafe swept his food out of sight.

       “She doesn’t look happy,” Sam said.

      No,