Four
Dare Seymour frowned at the email on his computer, thinking his client had rocks in his head. It was far too late in the day—hell, it was past eight—to deal with this particular client’s attempts to circumvent the law. His patience had run out hours ago.
Dear Sir,
You are being a dick. Actions like this will land you in an orange suit, shacked up with an inmate named...
Dare sighed, cursed and hit the backspace on his keyboard to delete the correspondence and closed his email program. He’d deal with his idiot client in the morning when, hopefully, he’d have more tact. When he felt this pissed off, this frustrated, it was time to leave the office. Food, a workout or exceptional sex normally went a long way to restoring his equanimity.
Food and a workout he could organize—probably sex, too, if he headed to a bar and put out some feelers. The problem was, he didn’t want stranger-sex; he wanted Keely.
Annoying, infuriating, stubborn woman that she was.
Dare glared at his phone lying on the desk, willing it to ring. He hadn’t heard from her for days, and he was very tempted to call her. In ten minutes, he could be in his car on his way to see her; in forty minutes he’d be naked and so would she.
Dare rubbed the back of his neck. And after a few bouts of amazing sex, they’d be back to where they’d been before, having amazing sex. Which wasn’t, on the surface, a problem—he loved sex and he was good at it—but he wanted more, dammit. For the first time in his life, he wanted something deeper than a physical connection, something more tangible. He wanted Keely’s mind as well as her body...
But the brown-eyed blonde was more stubborn than a pack of mules.
Well, he could be stubborn, too, and he wasn’t going to give in. This standoff was damned frustrating but Keely had to realize he was the one person in her life who wouldn’t buckle under the force of her personality, who wasn’t intimidated by her bossy, managing streak, who was strong enough to deal with her. She was smart, determined and willful but, dammit, so was he.
He wanted more from her, from them—what more consisted of he wasn’t quite sure, but it definitely included some sort of emotional commitment, some sort of mental connection—and he was going to get it.
Just watch him.
Dare pushed his chair back so hard it hit the credenza behind him and rose to his feet, stretching. He pushed down the lid of his laptop, slid it into its cover and idly wondered if one of his many brothers—and partners within the law firm—were still around and interested in joining him in the ring for a sparring session and then dinner. He really didn’t feel like being on his own tonight.
Dare reached for his phone to put a message on the family group chat and stopped when he heard a gentle rap on his office door. He looked over his shoulder and Keely stood in the doorway, long blond hair tumbling over her shoulders, a wicked look on her face.
Well, well, well...and to what did he owe this pleasure?
Dare saw it in her eyes as she approached him, the burning desire, the flush on her cheeks. Oh, yeah, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Good to know.
Dare—his can’t-rock-me expression on his face—perched on the edge of his desk, legs spread apart, gripping the sleek wooden edge with white fingers. He had to hold on or else he’d grab her and the desk would see a great deal of non-law-based action.
“Keely, this is a surprise.”
Keely walked up to him, stood between his legs and grabbed his loose tie, pulling him down. Dare allowed the space between them to close, needing to taste her.
“Hi, lover.”
Dare smiled against her lips, amused by Keely’s attempt to seduce him. Then her lips met his and her small tongue traced the seam of his lips, silently encouraging him to open up. If he did, if they started to kiss, to really kiss, he didn’t know whether they would stop. And he needed to stop. He had to keep the upper hand.
He kept his lips closed.
Keely pulled back and he saw the annoyance in her eyes, followed by a flash of determination. “Stop playing hard to get, Wilfred.”
Funny how he loved hearing his old-fashioned birth name on her lips. Nobody called him Wilfred. He’d been Dare from a young age, and on her lips, his name sounded like an endearment. Sometimes she also made it sound like a curse, but he was ignoring those times.
“I am hard to get, Killer,” Dare murmured back. “You know the stipulations...”
“Shut up.” Keely placed her hand on his chest and renewed her assault against his lips. He wasn’t going to touch her, lift his hands off the desk. But his resolve was tested when Keely’s hand skimmed down his chest, over his stomach and came to rest on the bulge in his pants.
She stroked him and Dare gritted his teeth. Then she slid down the zipper and pulled down the band of his underwear to rest her hot, warm, greedy fingers on his erection. Man, best feeling ever.
“Don’t you want this, Dare? Don’t you want me?” Keely asked, her words punctuated by little kisses to the corner of his mouth, along his jaw.
Of course he did. He was a man, not a machine.