Like she weighed nothing, he reached out, picked her up, and settled her onto his lap.
“I wanted to do this the first night I met you, but I think Heath would have gotten out the large-caliber weapons if we’d made out on his couch.” He kissed her cheek and worked his way over to the corner of her mouth. He sucked on her bottom lip.
Her arms snaked aroun
d his neck as her fingers raked through his hair. His tongue plunged inside her mouth and slowly explored. She couldn’t help it, she felt herself melt into him. All she wanted was more. More of him and more of the feelings he brought to life inside of her.
Dalton must have read her mind, because his hand slid under her dress, inside her bra, and found her nipple. He rolled it between his index finger and thumb, tugging on her nipple ring just hard enough to make heat slide through her.
But what she really wanted was for his mouth to take the place of his hands. As she arched her back and urged his head down, he finally got the message. He licked his way down her neck, pushed her bra down and devoured her. She found his hand and slid it between her legs and inside of her. Then had to bite her lip to keep from letting him know how good he felt.
Dalton had no such issues. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet,” he said, his voice low and dark and gravelly. “You feel so good.”
She started to tell him that he did too, but a buzzing noise came from the general direction of his desk, followed by a female voice saying, “You’re five minutes late for the meeting, Dalton. Mr. Lamont is looking for you.”
Dalton froze and withdrew his hand and his mouth. “Sorry, duty calls.”
“I seriously hate that woman.” Turning her nose up at a chocolate bourbon pecan pie was one thing. But interrupting just when things were getting interesting … Harmony wasn’t about to forgive her for that. Not when she was about to be left high and dry and sexually frustrated.
Still, she stood up. Dalton had work to do, and the last thing she wanted was for him to actually kick her out of his office. She wasn’t sure her ego—or her feminine wiles—would recover.
“Sorry, Harm. Big meeting. The tabloids are killing us.” He stood and buttoned his suit jacket.
“Eleanor said something about the tabloids too. What’s going on?” She shoved her boobs back into her bra and retied her dress.
His eyes stayed on her breasts. “I don’t suppose you’d do that again?”
His hair was mussed.
“I’d love to, but you don’t have the time.” She finger-combed his hair. “We didn’t even have sex, but somehow you have after-sex hair.” Which just pissed her off more. It really sucked getting caught before they did the deed.
He let her straighten him up, then bent to press a quick kiss to her lips. “Be careful when you’re leaving here, Harm. The tabs think they’re onto a story. Someone at Dead Shot took a picture of you dancing on the table and another one of Heath punching the bartender. The world is getting an eyeful of football’s cutest couple acting out. Not only are the tabloids claiming that you’re Lyric, they’re all going on about how Heath and Lyric are meth addicts who frequent biker bars. One even suggested that you—Lyric—have turned to prostitution to pay for your drug habit.” Dalton sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
Oh, shit. Why hadn’t Heath or Lyric said anything? Ruining her reputation was one thing. Messing with Lyric’s was something else all together.
But worry wasn’t productive, so Harm did what she always did—went from concerned to pissed off in six seconds flat.
“Double standard much? You run an NFL football team not the Boy Scouts. Your players break more laws in an evening than Lyric and I do in a lifetime. But one small bar brawl makes headlines? Why don’t y’all tell them to fuck off and mind their own goddamn business?”
She was pissed as hell. How dare people judge her sister and make up lies about her? Screw Heath, she didn’t care what happened to him, but Lyric deserved better than that.
She smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress. “Let me talk to your boss. I’ll straighten things out.” By the time she was done with him, he’d regret ever meeting the Wright girls.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I like my job and Heath likes his.” He kissed her cheek. “I would like to finish what we started, though. Say, after we have dinner?”
“You can’t stop me from talking to your boss or the press.” She wasn’t backing down.
“What exactly would you tell them?” He nuzzled her ear.
“To fuck off and mind their own goddamn business.” Hello, that was enough … wasn’t it?
“Yeah, I’m still gonna have to go with no.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“Wanna bet?” He sucked on her earlobe.
“Stop that. I’m not about to be distracted from this.” Still, she tilted her head back and let him nuzzle at her throat a little. Just because it was calming and she needed a little bit of—