"What does it mean?"
She snuggled close. "I'll tell you later. Right now, I want to know how you're going to negotiate my deal."
He laughed, but was happy to oblige, and so he asked her to outline the deal so far. She did, and he listened, asking questions and ending up pleasantly surprised by the thoughtfulness of her answers and the fact that she'd obviously done her homework.
"Well, my first priority is to get you as much cash as possible. Once it's done, you're pretty much out of the picture. They're buying your brand, which means you're done. If they fuck it up, your only recourse is the satisfaction of a full bank account."
She frowned. "I don't like the sound of that."
"Not much way around it, but I'll do some thinking. I want you as protected as possible. And it's all about negotiation. You never know until you try."
"You sound like you enjoy it."
"I do."
"Is that the kind of thing you can do as a judge?"
He considered the question, surprised by the lump that formed in his stomach. "Honestly, not really. As a mediator, yeah. But a judge has a different rulebook."
"Then why do you want to do it?"
Another hard question. Apparently the girl didn't throw soft balls. "There's prestige, of course."
"That doesn't seem like your bag."
"No, but it gives you some power. To make change, I mean."
"I thought judges only interpreted the law," she countered. "Wouldn't being in the legislature make more sense if you wanted to bring about change?"
He couldn't deny she had a point.
"Then why are you running for judge and not just staying in your practice? Or maybe trying to be a senator?"
Since that wasn't a question he felt like he could answer when he was overtired and oversexed, he turned the tables. "Why are you selling the distillery?"
Her laugh was like the ringing of bells. "Oh, that's because I want to." She grinned. "I want to do this, too."
With a quick movement, she straddled him, then grinned before she slowly eased down his body to once again take his cock into her mouth. He wanted to call her out for avoiding the question, but he wanted more to savor the feel of her hot little mouth doing wonderful things to his body.
She pulled away far too soon for his taste, but when she replaced her mouth with her pussy, riding him hard and fast and taking him to the edge, he really couldn't complain. Especially when she made him come so hard he thought he might bruise his throat when he cried out in pleasure.
And then, when she whispered, "Ready for another round?" his eager cock twitched and perked up all over again.
She would, he thought, be the death of him.
By four o'clock in the morning, they'd finally worn each other out, and he gently kissed her temple as she fell asleep in his arms.
By five, he had to get up to catch a plane.
He'd never once left a woman in his bed when he wasn't home. And yet he didn't even blink at the thought of leaving Selma.
And instead of kicking her out, he simply brushed a kiss over her cheek and whispered to her sleeping form that she could stay as
long as she wanted.
Chapter Seven
"You just spent an hour working out, and now you're eating that?" Selma wrinkled her nose at the pile of pancakes, side of bacon, omelet, and hash browns that the waitress slid in front of Matthew. They were at Magnolia Cafe on South Congress, her brother was completely pigging out, and she was indulging in one measly breakfast taco.