Fight to the Finish (First to Fight #3)(40)
“Of course not.” She was so calm about it, so collected. No hysterics, no sobs, and no real anger either. The anger, she’d have earned. But she kept it down, and he sensed it was only because it was more efficient to be able to talk without using curse words that she did so. “How can I help?”
“The lawyers think it’s going to come to a head. He can’t keep coming back and demanding we lower support on paper, because even the state has its own standards that he can’t go below. But he might be more tempted to lower the payments made directly to me, and for me to keep my mouth shut about it, if I knew it meant he would abide by this unspoken agreement he leaves us alone and doesn’t push his right for visitation.”
“I’m not really up on family law,” Graham began, and he could feel her slump against him. “But the law is the law. I can give you suggestions, I just can’t represent you.”
“I have a lawyer,” she said quickly. “I pay for her, it’s not like, court appointed or anything. She’s just expensive.”
“The good ones usually are.”
“No kidding,” Kara said with a puff of air that stirred her bangs. “I had a court-appointed lawyer back in the day, when I was still a teenager. I remember sitting in court before our time to go in front of the judge, and Tasha was representing the mom ahead of me. She ripped into the deadbeat father like a shark on a bucket of frozen chum. It was . . . a little terrifying to watch, actually. She’s scary in the court room. I knew then and there, if I ever had enough money to hire a lawyer, I’d do whatever I could to make her mine.”
Graham smiled, but said nothing.
“I’d rather not waste my hourly rate asking simple questions that could be answered if I just knew where to look.”
“Research, basically. Someone to bounce ideas off of.”
“Exactly. I’m sure you get asked this sort of thing all the time.” Sadness tinged her voice now, and she rolled and shifted until she perched on her knees, facing him. One hand came up and cupped his cheek. “I hate to be another person to ask.”
“You’re not ‘another person,’ Kara.” He held her hand in place, then eased forward to kiss her long, deep and slow. When her other hand came up to play in his hair, then slide down and pull him against her more, he called it a win. He broke the kiss. “You’re not ‘another person.’ You mean a lot to me. You and Zach both. It’s for both of you. I’ll do whatever I can, however I can.”
She kissed him this time, peppering his face with tiny, playful pecks in between gasping “thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, holding her a bit away from him. “I’m going to require a bit more of a thank-you than that.”
“Oh.” Her lips twitched, and she threw a leg over him to straddle his lap. Her soft center pressed against his hardness, and he wanted nothing more than to be the wizard she’d accused him of, cast a spell and watch their clothing disappear so he could slide his erection deep into her. “So that’s how it’ll be, hmm? Am I paying for your very lawyerly services with free rein of my body?”
“No, never that. But,” he added, nipping her bottom lip when she raised a brow in surprise, “but, I am more than willing to accept generous donations of gratitude in the form of, shall we say, physical demonstrations.”
She laughed, kissed him again, and gasped when his hand slid under her shirt. “Graham.” Her voice was unsteady. “Zach . . .”
He froze. Damn. He’d forgotten entirely where they were. “Sorry.”
“No.” She gripped his wrist hard, keeping his hand in place. “Don’t stop. Just . . . be careful.”
The idea turned in his mind a moment. Staying quiet, being careful, the element of discretion . . . his blood fired and his hips twerked up just a little in response. “So, you’re saying, if I do this, you can’t say a word.” His hand moved slowly across her soft skin to cup her breast through her bra. “And maybe if this happened”— he used touch alone to pull and roll the lacy edge of the cup down to free her breast, still under her shirt—“then you wouldn’t moan.”
Biting her lip, she shook her head. Resolute, this woman.
“So then this won’t make you gasp,” he said low, pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling gently. He heard it, actually saw the gasp form in her chest, then stop with a convulsion like a trapped hiccup. Her face was red, but her expression said, Try again, buddy.
“You’re good,” he admitted, then pulled up the hem of her shirt over her breasts. “I guess if I want any sort of reaction out of you, I’ll have to try harder.” Then he closed his mouth over her breast.
She made a sound then, as he rhythmically pulled and sucked, running his tongue over the peak. It was something like a keening cry, but only heard through the vibration of her chest. He placed his hand flat against her sternum to feel it again, chuckling when he felt it. The soft, plush skin of her breast fit perfectly in the U-shaped hold of his hand. He could die happily after spending an hour worshiping them.
Her fingers worked hard to pull the other cup down, and he took that as the invitation it was meant and transferred over to the second. Her back arched to press more firmly against his mouth, which pressed her center harder against his cock. He wanted so much to release his belt, pull out his cock and press into her. But not tonight.