Claire Whitfield
One massive hand brushed through his brown hair as he sat at my conference room table with his back toward me in an apparent state of distress. His muscular shoulders were tense. The thought crossed my mind to give him a quick shoulder massage so he could relax a bit.
Great idea. Super professional of you, Claire.
Jeez. What was I thinking? I needed to get my head out of the gutter.
Ethan Knight was a client who was possibly going to be charged with some very serious civil and criminal charges. While he’d spent the previous day denying any knowledge of the fraud, he couldn’t provide any answers as to who in his organization had transferred income from the properties of several of his largest clients into a shell account in the Caymans.
Millions of dollars went into the shell account and then moved around before disappearing into thin air.
Ethan either had some pretty good money-laundering skills, or he had a very sharp criminal on his staff.
His pleas of innocence seemed believable, but with no one to point the finger at, it wasn’t looking too good for him. Since all his partners were silent investors and already cleared by the FBI, and he was the only working owner of his property management company, the guilt fell solely on him.
I looked at his shoulders again and licked my lips before I realized what I was doing. I paused outside the conference room, looked through the glass, and told myself to pull it together. Ethan Knight might have been super hot, totally into me, and exactly my type, but he was a client.
And you don’t even know if he’s innocent.
I wanted to believe him. He seemed sincere. But the evidence led nowhere, and that wasn’t a good sign for him.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the thoughts of how he’d sized me up out of my head. I was used to men fawning over me, and I knew how to use it to my advantage. But Ethan Knight—with his eyes drifting over my body throughout the day—well, there was an intensity there that made my vagina throb long after I’d left his office.
Pulling the door open, I walked in. His shoulders tensed up more, and he slowly stood up and turned around.
Ugh, he’s so sexy.
His body towered over mine, muscular and tight. He filled out his suit just right. Thoughts of yesterday’s encounter with him started playing in my mind.
Torture was an excellent word to describe yesterday. Halfway through the day, he’d claimed he needed to breathe and took off his jacket. He pulled off his tie, then released the top three buttons of his dress shirt.
And I’d tried not to stare at the top of his smooth pecs that were peeking out enough to tease me, because all I wanted to do was lick his chest. For hours I barraged him with questions while I thought about what his chest would taste like.
No doubt he could pick me up and put me in any position he wanted. His mouth looked soft, and from time to time he would lick his lips...at me. Every time he did it, I thought about what that tongue would do to me in all those different positions.
And I was pretty sure he had imagined the same thing...all day long.
Ethan Knight, with his life on the line, answered question after question for over six hours and gave me the most intense set of fuck-me eyes I had ever seen.
Those eyes sent heat to my lower region all day as pools of desire puddled in my panties for hours.
Not that I could act on any of my fantasies. Any interaction with him could get me disbarred as an attorney. Personal relationships with clients were unethical and illegal.
I went home and masturbated for hours. I tried everything to get him out of my system. My finger...several vibrators…It didn’t matter. I could not shake him.
The picture of his perfect body, which I was imagining naked and wrapped up in mine, would not leave my head.
The thought that he would take control and not think twice about what to do with me haunted me all night.
The idea that he would make me orgasm like no other man ever had before, then do it again, replayed over and over to the point of obsession.
“Claire.” He put his hand out and snapped me back into the current moment.
I shook it as electricity shot through me, exactly like the day before.
I peered up at him. “Ethan. How are you feeling?”
He started to speak and stopped. “Honestly, I’m not sure how to answer that.” His hazel-brown eyes gazed down at me as if begging me to fix his problem. His deep, sexy voice, which had been on replay in my head since I’d met him yesterday, sent a flutter through me. And every time he said my name—which he did often—it seemed to ooze out of his mouth, as if he could fuck me with his voice alone.
But his smell... Oh my God, the delicious scent of sandalwood and leather created a heat of lust that coursed through me all day long.
“Sit down.” I pointed to his chair.
He took a seat, and I sat in the chair next to him. My sex pulsed when his eyes briefly wandered to my legs as I swiveled toward him. “If at any time you are uncomfortable, look at me and say my name, as in a question. Don’t answer anything I tell you not to, whether you understand why I’m telling you that or not. Keep your answers short and to the point, and only expand if prompted and I give you the okay.”
His eyes, full of fear, were fixed on mine. His face was pale. He gulped.
I put my hand on his arm. “Ethan, you have to pull it together. You look like you’re going to get sick.”
Ethan closed his eyes and took a few slow breaths. He slowly opened his eyes and looked down at my hand.
I realized my hand was still on his arm, and I removed it.
The fuck-me eyes were back as he coolly said, “Okay.”
Stay cool, Claire. Do not respond to his eyes. “I’m going to be right here. Do you want me to repeat my instructions?”
He shook his head. “I got it. Say your name as a question, don’t answer when you say not to, be short and to the point.”
I smiled at him and winked. “Quick learner, huh?”
He laughed...a soft, sexy laugh. I hadn’t heard him laugh before. “Every now and then.”
The intercom from the phone buzzed. “Claire, Agents Piper and Creedie are here.”
“Go ahead and bring them back,” I instructed my assistant, George. I patted my hand on Ethan’s. “We got this. Stay calm.”
He glanced down at my hand, then back up to my face with his fuck-me eyes again.
I quickly removed my hand. Stop touching him, Claire.
We both stood up and turned around to greet the agents. I had worked with Piper and Creedie before. Creedie had the hots for me, and I planned on using it to our advantage.
“Agent Piper.” I shook his hand. “Agent Creedie.” I shook his hand, held it a few seconds longer, and gave him a slightly bigger smile.
“Claire.” A very faint blush crept up his neck.
Ethan shifted next to me.
I snapped my head to look at him; he’d noticed my engagement with Creedie, and I could tell he didn’t like it. I gave him a wink to show him it was only for our advantage, but he continued to stare at me with cold eyes and a clenched jaw.
Shit. This isn’t good.
I quickly got everyone seated. Agent Piper pulled out a recorder. Ethan started tapping his fingers on his thigh. Crap—tapping wasn’t a good sign in an interrogation. It made suspects look guilty.
I tossed my pen way under the table, scooted my chair out, and got on the ground. Crawling under the table, I put my hand directly on Ethan’s and held it flat against his leg to signal that he needed to stop tapping.
I looked back and hoped to catch his eye and see that he understood he needed to stop tapping. Before I could reach his eyes, the movement in his pants grabbed my attention. A delicious bulge was forming, and my pulse shot up quickly.
“Claire, you okay?” Creedie’s concerned voice snapped me out of my trance.
“Found it!” I closed my mouth that was gaping open and caught Ethan’s fuck-me eyes. I pulled myself back up to my seat. “Gentlemen, should we get started?” Focus, Claire. I willed myself not to look back at Ethan’s crotch. I grabbed my glass of water and took a long drink.
The interrogation was long; Piper and Creedie kept asking Ethan the same question in multiple ways. I had to hand it to Ethan—he answered exactly how we’d rehearsed the day before.
Lunchtime drew near. I batted my eyes at Creedie. “My stomach is growling. Do you mind if we take a lunch break?”
He smiled at me. “Sure. Sixty minutes long enough?”
I tossed my long hair. “Do you think we could make it a teeny bit longer? The restaurants take forever around here, and I’m starving.” I squeezed my fingers together and beamed at him.
The flush in his neck started to rise again. He cleared his throat. “How does ninety minutes sound?”
“That’s perfect. I really appreciate it,” I gushed at him. Jeez, he’s so easy to manipulate.
They stood up and left the room. Ethan turned to me. “Are you sleeping with him?”
My head about snapped off my neck. “Excuse me?”
“I think I have a right to know if my attorney is sleeping with the investigator in my case,” Ethan accused. “My life is kind of on the line here.”
My face turned purple with anger. “How dare you.”
“How dare I?”
“Yes. How dare you,” I repeated.
Ethan stepped closer to me, about an inch from my body. The scent of him flooded my nostrils, and once again, my pulse started throbbing. “Are you?” He quietly raised his eyebrow at me in question.
I glared up at him. “No, I am not.”
His eyes searched mine. Finally, he stepped back. “I’m sorry.”
George came into the conference room. “I made you a reservation across the street. You need to go or you’ll lose it.”
“Thanks.”
He nodded and left.
I grabbed my purse. “Let’s go.” I didn’t look at him; I was still pissed off that he’d thought I was sleeping with his interrogator.
He grabbed my elbow. “Claire.”
I stopped and slowly turned.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
I took a deep breath. He seemed sincere. In all reality, I guess it was fair for him to ask me that, if I’d given him any indication there was more between Creedie and me. There wasn’t, but if I thought about it, all the flirting I did with Creedie could easily be perceived as that.
“I’ve worked with Creedie and Piper before. Creedie likes me. I use it to my advantage...to your advantage. I manipulate him to help us. That’s it.” It flew out of my mouth. I cringed inside at how it sounded. I didn’t know why I’d explained it to Ethan that way.
Ethan looked...relieved? “Okay. Thank you.”
I didn’t expect to get a thank you. I stood speechless for a minute.
He put his hand on my arm. “Claire, forgive me?”
I didn’t expect him to ask for my forgiveness or to see the need in his eyes for me to give it to him. “All’s forgiven. Let’s go.”