Suddenly One Summer (FBI/US Attorney #6)(69)

“Yes.” Her eyes dark and heavy lidded, she pushed his jeans and boxer-briefs down.

Fuck, it had never been like this with anyone else, this kind of urgency and need to be inside her, buried deep as he could be. He stepped back and helped her step out of her underwear, then kissed her, wanting her mouth on his as he pushed up her dress and—

He swore under his breath, the tip of his cock right at her wet entrance. “The condoms are inside.”

She groaned, then took his cock and slid it against her clit. “We need to get inside, then.”

His jaw clenched as he looked down and watched her. “Yes. Now.” Done with the teasing, he pulled his jeans up and took her by the hand and led her inside. She yanked his shirt off along the way to his bedroom, and when there, they quickly got her heels off along with the rest of his clothes. She climbed on top of him as he ripped open the condom and rolled it on. With her dress still on, and him sitting up, she took his cock and guided him to her entrance.

Then she sank down, both of them moaning as he filled her.

She went still then, gazing down at him, and something shifted deep inside him when he looked up into those beautiful brown eyes. As she began to move, he reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair. It was a slower pace, less urgent, but somehow even better and sweeter.

He smoothed his thumb across her cheek and something flickered in her eyes.

“It’s so good with you,” she breathed.

“I love being with you like this,” he murmured. Seeing her softer side, so open and vulnerable just . . . did things to him.

He grabbed her hips, guiding her in slow, smooth strokes. Their eyes never left each other, until she touched her forehead to his and said his name as she came. Her body clenched tight around him, and he groaned as he followed her over, thinking he’d never felt anything as good as this moment.

Afterward, they lay side by side on the bed, catching their breath. She looked at him and said nothing, just taking him in. With a tender look in her eyes, she reached over and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead.

He reached up and linked their fingers, and they stayed that way for a moment.

Then she took a deep breath and sat up, fixing her dress. She hugged her knees, her long hair spilling over her shoulders and legs, and then turned her head toward him.

“Think there are any of those brownies left?” she asked.

Brownies.

Right.

That was all she’d had on her mind, apparently, while he’d been lying there, thinking . . . well, he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d been thinking.

Obviously, it didn’t matter.

So he sat up and lightly kissed her shoulder. A playful gesture, nothing too serious. “Let’s go raid the fridge and find out.”

After all, the relationship layover guy and Victoria Slade didn’t do serious.

And they especially didn’t do it together.

Twenty-five

ON MONDAY, VICTORIA waited until mid-morning to make the call.

Peter Sutter’s stay of execution was officially over.

“Mr. Sutter, hello. This is Victoria Slade from Victoria Slade and Associates, a law firm here in Chicago,” she led in when he answered. “I’d like to speak to you about a matter regarding one of my clients. Do you have a few minutes?”

His tone was upbeat. “Well, that depends. On the off chance this is one of those calls you see in the movies, when you tell me some rich relative I never knew died and left me millions of dollars, then sure—I have all the time you need. But if this is about a legal issue related to the gym, then unfortunately all I can do is provide you with the contact information for XSport Fitness’s corporate legal department.”

“Actually, this is a personal matter that has nothing to do with the gym. I represent a woman named Nicole Dixon, who I believe you met fourteen months ago at a bar called Public House.” Victoria deliberately paused, waiting to see if he had any reaction to that.

He spoke after a moment’s hesitation. “Um, what did you say this was about?”

Actually, she hadn’t said. But she saw no point in beating around the bush. “Ms. Dixon had a child five months ago—nine months after the two of you met—and she believes you are the father. I’m calling to make arrangements for you to take a paternity test—something I hope we can handle discreetly and without need for court intervention. If that’s not the case, then I’ll have no choice but to serve you with a subpoena either at home or at work.”

“Oh my God.” He exhaled raggedly. “No, please, don’t send anything about this to my home. Look, uh, I’m swamped at work this morning, but is there somewhere we can meet to talk about this? Maybe around noon?”

She thought about giving him her office address, but decided a less formal location could work better. “There’s an Intelligentsia Coffee bar on Broadway and Belmont.”

“I know the place. I’ll be there at noon.”

“You’re obviously welcome to bring an attorney, Mr. Sutter.”

“An attorney? I don’t have— Oh, my God, I can’t believe this is happening. I’ll see you there at noon.”

Victoria hung up the phone, thinking that the man who’d cheated on his soon-to-be wife and who’d also left without a good-bye after sleeping with her client sounded quite frazzled.