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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 (#u858c4dcd-0861-54a4-a32c-590ca062cd5c)
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.
