Going Too Far. Tori Carrington

it’s probably the last thing you think about every night before going to bed…”

      He scanned her features, only half hearing what she was saying. He’d learned a long time ago about that if you wanted to hear what Marie had to say, you didn’t listen to her words, but rather her body language. And the shaky breath she’d just exhaled, the way she slowly smoothed her free hand over her hip, and the quiet tone of her voice combined to tell him that not much had changed since their tryst in her parents’ pantry. He had the feeling that, if he asked, she’d hand him her panties right there and then. And, oh, how tempting it was to do just that.

      He grimaced. Of course this fortuitous meeting would have to come on the heels of the phone call he’d received from her father yesterday. And for that reason alone the last thing on his mind right now, or at any time in the immediate future, should be Marie’s panties.

      It dawned on him that she had stopped speaking. He tugged his gaze away from the way her jacket draped over her soft breasts then blinked up into her eyes.

      And he froze.

      There, in the depths of her blue, blue eyes, lurked a curious and suspicious determination.

      Ian squinted at her. Uh-oh. He knew that look only too well. She’d worn it only one other time. And while that one other time had led to his finally stroking her sweet, slick flesh, it had also held the potential for disaster if her family found out what had gone on in the tiny room off the kitchen.

      An aroused Marie was a breathtaking sight. A rebellious Marie scared the living hell out of him, no matter how much he wished they were back in that pantry right then.

      Ian smoothed down his tie to keep from reaching out and touching her, then cleared his throat.

      But Marie spoke first. “You have a case this morning?”

      Ian raised his brows at her softly spoken words. “Filing a motion.”

      She smiled at that. “The caped crusader for criminals is hard at work, huh?”

      He took a physical step backward. “Something like that.”

      When was the last time he’d seen her aside from down the hall of the courthouse? Three months? No, two. Judge Bullock’s Christmas party. She’d been friendly then as well. But he suspected it was because she’d been as sorry to be at the party as he had been and was grateful for a familiar face. He’d spent a few minutes talking to her about the weather, noting how she’d scratched at her dress as if she couldn’t stand the material against her skin.

      And what a dress and skin it had been, too. Marie had always leaned toward the conservative side. High-neck blouses, loose-fitting jackets and longer skirts. But that night she’d had on a sexy number that fit her in more ways than one. And he’d been hard-pressed not to follow her around the party, tongue panting, in the hope that she’d take pity on him and bring him home with her.

      Now he looked at her and wondered if she’d somehow found out about her father having secretly retained his services. But no. He didn’t think Marie had that type of self-control. When she found out, and he was sure she would, she wouldn’t be quite this…nice.

      “You know, I was just thinking,” she said now, jarring him out his thoughts. “Ever since you moved back here from Chicago, we really haven’t had a chance to talk, have we?” She licked her lips, a move he suspected was completely unconscious, which made it all the more mesmerizing. “You know, caught up on things.” She shifted her briefcase from one hand to the other. “What are you doing tonight?”

      2

      NOW THAT WAS A LOADED question, wasn’t it?

      Marie stared up into Ian’s strikingly handsome, fear-stricken face and wondered why she didn’t just come out and ask him if he was up for Round Three in the Marie and Ian physical relationship match. Of course in terms of sex it would only be Round Two, but she always rated the first time they’d kissed as Round One simply because it was the first time she’d ever climaxed.

      She fought to keep her gaze straight. And that’s exactly what she wanted now, wasn’t it? For him to give her another out-of-this-world orgasm? To exorcise the rebellious emotions roiling through her bloodstream? To have sex? Wild, decadent, monkey sex with the man most qualified for the job?

      Just think, an orgasm and revenge in one fell swoop…

      Marie gulped, thinking she’d finally careened over the edge.

      Insane. Unthinkable. Absolutely impossible.

      And tempting.

      Naughty Ian Kilborn was ten times more charming now than he’d ever been, making the prospect of sleeping with him even more appealing. But that wasn’t why she was thinking what she was. He was the ultimate way to get her family back for interfering in her life yet again.

      The only problem was having sex with Ian wasn’t nearly as simple as all that and she needed a few minutes to remind herself why.

      But then she remembered she was already running late and that she really didn’t have time for this, and damn Jena and her sex-fiendish ideas anyway. “Never mind—”

      “I already have plans,” Ian said at the same time.

      Well, that really stank, didn’t it? Before she could retract her loaded question, he’d turned her down cold.

      Marie absently wondered how the planets were aligned and just which one of them had it in for her this morning.

      “Well, then,” she said, trying to shrug off the uncomfortable sensation sticking to her skin along with the sizzling heat produced just by being close to Ian, “I guess I’ll see you around the courthouse.”

      “How about tomorrow night?”

      Marie stared at him, her nipples bunching into tight points. “I already have plans,” she lied.

      His grimace could match, if not better, any of hers. “There’s something I think you and I need to discuss.”

      That got a suggestive smile out of her. “Oh? And would that conversation include words?”

      His eyes held the onset of one of his killer grins.

      “I’ve got to get going,” she said and rounded him. She also needed to have her head examined. What was she thinking, leading Ian Kilborn to believe she was interested in anything more than throwing darts at his picture on her wall? No matter how much her body vibrated like a divining rod whenever he was within a hundred feet of her?

      She purposely kept her back straight as she hurried down the hall. Okay, so maybe she didn’t really have his picture on her wall. Well, not now, anyway. But she had at one point. She’d used her father’s copy machine to blow up Ian’s senior class picture and had hung it under a poster of Shawn Cassidy inside her closet door. Whenever she’d had a bad day, she’d take Shawn down and have at it with the darts she’d swiped from her brothers’ dartboard in the garage.

      Of course, the look on her mother’s face when they’d painted her room later that year and all the holes in her closet door had been revealed was absolutely priceless. Marie had told her they must have termites. Her mother called in the exterminators the next day.

      Marie finally rounded the corner, then leaned against the wall out of sight of Ian. She didn’t check to see if he’d watched her depart because she was afraid of her reaction if he hadn’t.

      “Miss Bertelli. I was afraid you weren’t going to make it.”

      Marie nearly jumped out of her skin as a young man addressed her.

      She drew in a deep breath and tried for a smile for her client, the owner of a small computer programming company being sued for copyright infringement.

      Business. All business. That was going to be Marie Bertelli for the rest of the day.

      And if she was just a wee bit afraid that might be the inscription