“Nice to meet you,” I say, and she smiles, continuing to look anywhere but at us.
“Back to Weinstein. I know you’ve gotten some dirt, right? I mean you’re Reed Warner.” George apparently has propped Reed up on some imaginary prosecutor pedestal.
Reed shrugs. “You know I can’t talk about it.”
George nods. “I know, I know. But damn, I was talking to someone the other day about you and when they said you were the ADA assigned to the case I thought to myself, he’s going places.”
Reed glances down at me, and then to George. “I have to win it,” repeating himself once more.
The lights blink, and Reed’s hand tightens on my hip, leading me forward.
“Good to see you.” He nods to George. “Nice to meet you.” He directs his attention to Cassie. “Enjoy the show.”
“Yeah, maybe we’ll see you during the intermission.”
God, I hope not. That was weird.
I smile, and Reed guides us to the entrance to our seats, but before we can make our get-away, George snaps his fingers.
“That’s where I know you from.”
“Just go,” Reed whispers, but I look over my shoulder to see him approaching.
“You’re Pete Keebler’s wife.”
Reed circles around, his hand leaving my body for the first time all night. “Ex-wife.” The word comes out sharp enough to cut glass.
George covers his mouth with his fist. “You’re dating Keebler’s ex? I knew you were ballsy, Reed, but—”
“Mind your own business.” Reed turns us back around and we’re ready to enter the doors to the theater, leaving overzealous George and his neglected wife behind.
“Can I be there when he finds out?” George says to our backs.
Okay Reed, don’t hate me after this.
I circle around.
“I’m not sure where I met you before, George, but I can tell you I don’t remember you. It was most likely at some boring work-related function where you were probably so busy ignoring your wife that you happened to notice me. Tell me, were you as far up Pete’s ass that night as you are up Reed’s tonight? Let’s make one thing clear. We’re not in high school anymore.” I talk to him in a tone like he can’t comprehend what I’m saying. “The gossip mill doesn’t exist. Pete knows I’m dating Reed, not that it’s really any of your business. Go get your wife and show her some affection and then maybe you’ll get lucky tonight and you can stop bitching to all your friends down at the club about how you never get any.”
George stands in front of me, eyes wide, but doesn’t respond. Then his gaze shifts to Reed almost asking, ‘seriously?’ I’m about to turn back around when George laughs. Bent over, uncontrolled bellowing.
“Shit. No wonder you and Keebler didn’t make it. Tell me, how many times were the police called?”
Before I can respond, Reed’s brushing past me. “MacIlroy,” he warns.
I push him back by the chest before we get kicked out.
As George is still bent over, I lean down to speak into his ear. “You can find humor in whatever you want but know this. Reed is the one who’s going to get his cock sucked by me tonight. He’s going to fuck me in every room of his condo and probably a few times tomorrow morning. So, while you’re beating off to porn in your basement while your wife sleeps upstairs, please remember it’s because you’re an asshole.”
George’s fake laughter stops.
I wind my arm through Reed’s and lead him through the doors into the theater.
“Shit, I’m so turned on right now,” Reed says with a groan.
“Good thing we’re in a box and I’m wearing a dress.” I waggle my eyebrows and his hand slides from my hip to my ass, grabbing it and sliding close to me.
“God, you’re one in a million.” He kisses my cheek as the guy leads us upstairs to our own private viewing section where Reed definitely got his money’s worth.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“I’m so fucking tense.” Reed balls his fists as he leans against the desk in his office. “I swear if the jury doesn’t find him guilty and sets him free I might go ballistic.”
I’ve never seen this side of Reed. He’s ready to rage, to fight and something carnal inside of me wants to be the one he unleashes on so that I can tame him.
I sit in the chair in front of him—my legs crossed, my arms folded—trying to appear as if seeing him in court and how he is here doesn’t turn me on.
“I’m sure you’ll win them over just like you did my aunt on Sunday.”
A smile tips his lips for a second. “Aunts are easy. Convincing twelve people to all agree on the same verdict. Not so easy.”
Reed just performed his closing argument in the case an hour ago and now, though he says it could be days before they have an answer, here we are in his office, waiting for the jury’s verdict.
I stand, unable to see him like this and not do something any longer. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull my body flush against his. “You need to get your mind off of it.”
“I do, huh?” he asks, his hands landing on my ass and squeezing.
Some men are breast men or leg men. Reed is all ass. He admits his favorite position is doggie because he loves watching my ass while he plunges into me.
I press my lips to his. “Why don’t you sit in your chair and let me get to work.” I wink, and he licks his lips, his mouth opening a sliver.
I take his hand, leading him to the opposite side of his desk and push him down into his chair. He falls with a pft to the leather chair and I drop to my knees in front of him.
“Vic,” he says in practically a moan.
His dick already tents his slacks. I love the effect I have on him. Keeping my eyes on him, I unbuckle his belt, unbutton his pants and slowly lower the zipper until his black boxer briefs appear, a welcoming bulge front and center.
I lift the waistband of his boxers, peeking in to see the head of his cock pulsing and ready for my mouth.
Reed’s arm stretches toward his desk and I hear him hit something that causes a beep to sound.
“Yes, Mr. Warner,” his assistant asks through the intercom.
“No interruptions unless it’s the” —I take him in my mouth—“verdict.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The octave change in his voice probably clued her in to why he’s asking for no interruptions with his girlfriend in the room. Do I care? Nope.
Pushing him as far down my throat as possible, his hands tighten in my hair. Wrapping the strands through his fingers, he bucks up. I dig my hand down to play with his balls and his head falls back against his chair, his eyes unable to stay open.
I work him, slowly, to allow him the most pleasure he can get before we have to return to reality. Twisting and swallowing, licking and twirling, Reed groans when I pump him at the base.
“Victoria,” my name a plea on his lips. “Don’t stop. You’re so fucking good at it.”
His words only spur me on more and I move faster, wanting him to experience the ecstasy he gives me.
He bucks again and stills, his cum squirting into my mouth and I wait patiently until he’s completely spent. Licking him clean, I pull up his boxers and stare up at him.