When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss (Aspen Grove)

Chapter 11

R eese has dominated my thoughts since we gave in to temptation yesterday. Who am I kidding? She hasn’t been far from my mind since the day I met her. The kiss we shared in the conference room was like a shot of top-shelf brandy, and I’m craving another taste. We’ve both avoided the topic, keeping things strictly businesslike, and I’m careening toward the edge.

I’ve done everything to control my wandering thoughts, but it’s a losing battle when we’re together. Like this morning, when she leaned over my desk to review a document, and a fantasy took hold in my mind that’s played on repeat since.

I lock the door to my office and stride toward Reese, a determined glint in my eye. With her attention still on the documents in front of her, I wind my arm around her waist, peppering kisses along her neck. She lets out a low moan when I nibble on her ear, her fingernail digging into my arm.

Unable to hold out any longer, I spin her around to face me before sweeping my hand across the desk, sending everything scattering to the floor.

I lift her into my arms and hoist her onto the wooden surface. Her heated gaze is locked on mine as I hike up her skirt, bunching it around her waist and exposing her black lace underwear. She lifts her hips and I drag the thin scrap of material down her legs, tucking it into my pocket for safekeeping.

Not willing to waste a second, I drop to my knees, my head aligned with her core. I hitch her leg over my shoulder and kiss along her smooth skin. My hands spread her quivering thighs and I lick her pussy in long, steady strokes. When I glance up, she has a wanton expression on her face as I plunge three fingers inside her tight cunt. I work her clit hard, telling her to be a good girl and come for me as her slender fingers tangle in my hair. She arches her back when she comes, shouting my name, without a care for who hears her sounds of pleasure.

I’m snapped from my fantasy when my phone vibrates on my desk.

Fuck.

I glance around and sigh in relief when I find I’m still alone in my office. My cock is rock-hard, and I take a minute to readjust myself. It’s late Thursday afternoon, and I hate the idea of spending yet another weekend without seeing Reese. God, my obsession with her is getting out of hand.

When my phone buzzes again, I’m grateful for the distraction.

Harrison: Hey.

Harrison: You free to grab a drink tomorrow night?

Dawson: Sure.

Harrison: I’ll text you the address.

Dawson: We’re not meeting at the bar?

Harrison: Not this time.

Dawson: Fine, but it better not be a club.

After ten minutes with no reply, I send another message.

Dawson: You better be in a board meeting and not ignoring me.

Dawson: If that address is for a club, you’re buying two rounds for everyone there.

Damn it. I should have told him I was busy. I toss my phone down and when I glance out my open door, I find Reese heading toward her desk.

This may be the only chance I have to speak to her before the weekend, and I’m not about to give that up.

“Reese, can you come here for a second?” I call out.

A few seconds later, she strides in with a pen tucked behind her ear, balancing a coffee cup in one hand and a stack of files in the other.

“What’s up?” she asks, coming to stand next to my desk.

“Can you send me the updated Irving contract? I need to have multiple copies for Wes’s team to review when I get to their office tomorrow.”

“You know, there’s this fancy thing called a chat system? Or you could just text me if the first option is too much trouble.” She says with a playful smirk.

Then I wouldn’t get to see your beautiful face.

“Why message when your desk is right outside my door?”

“I left five copies for you this morning. They’re tabbed and ready to go.” She motions to a stack of folders that I pushed off to the side earlier.

A frown mars my face. “Oh, okay. Thanks.”

Reese spins towards the door, ready to leave, but stops when she hears my voice. “Can you call Villa Napoli and confirm that the catering order will be delivered at Irving Tower tomorrow at 12:30 p.m.?” I ask.

She glances over her shoulder. “I did it this morning. They’ll have two servers there to assist in setting everything up.”

“One more thing,” I say before she can bolt.

She turns to face me, clutching her coffee for dear life. “What is it?”

My mind draws a blank, scrambling to find an excuse to get her to stay. “Umm… I think my printer is out of black ink. Can you get me a new cartridge from the break room?”

She sighs, and puts a hand on her hip. “Dawson, I saw you change both cartridges last week.” Damn, I forgot about that. “As much as I’d love to humor your little game, I have a lot of work to get through today. So, unless there’s anything else…?” She lets the question hang in the air.

I should say something, but I’m distracted by the neckline of her shirt, dipping slightly to reveal a hint of cleavage and a dark green bra. My thoughts drift again to our moment in my conference room, remembering the feel of her nestled in my lap with my hands gripping her hips as I kissed her with no regard for the consequences.

Reese’s voice snaps me out of my daydream. “Dawson?”

When I glance up, her gaze is bouncing between me and the door.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I ask.

She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Was that all you wanted?”

“Just wanted to remind you I’ll be out of the office tomorrow.”

“Yes. You’ve mentioned it several times.”

I run a hand through my already disheveled hair. “That’s right.”

Her gaze softens, worry clouding her expression. “Are you okay?”

I wave her off, embarrassed that I’m acting like a teenager with a crush. “I’m fine. You can go.”

“Okay,” she says, and the smile she gives me brightens the room.

The door clicks behind her when she leaves, and I bury my face in my hands. What the hell is wrong with me? I pride myself on being in control and self-assured, but with Reese, it feels like I’m stumbling through uncharted territory without any sense of direction.

“The next time you drag me to a club, you’ll owe me another favor,” I mutter.

“Yeah, whatever,” Harrison says, clearly distracted as he scans the room.

He failed to mention we’d be meeting at a crowded lounge bar with a live jazz band and a drink menu dedicated to signature cocktails. True to my word, I told the bartender that Harrison was covering two rounds of drinks for everyone in the club. Surprisingly, Harrison handed over his card without protest.

Patrons are seated in plush armchairs and velvet sectionals under dim lighting, enjoying their appetizers and fruity drinks. I much prefer the dive bar in Brooklyn, where the alcohol is simple and there’s a relaxed atmosphere with fewer people.

Several women openly gawk at us as we pass, their eyes lingering with clear interest. I pay them no mind as I follow Harrison. There’s only one woman I’m interested in taking home tonight, and she’s not here.

If she were here right now, I’d say fuck the rules and drag her to the nearest corner and kiss her until she couldn’t think straight.

I almost crash into Harrison when he stops abruptly. “A bit of warning would have been nice,” I mutter.

“Sorry,” he says, his gaze shifting toward a group of women climbing a spiral staircase.

He’s acting strange tonight. Given what I know about him, he’s not the kind of guy to openly check out women or hang out in a glitzy club.

“What are we really doing here?” I ask.

“There’s a catered VIP party on the second floor,” he says.

I shoot him a questioning look. “Since when are you into parties?”

He grits his teeth. “I’m not.”

Harrison heads for the stairs, not waiting for a reply. I follow, intrigued by what has him so preoccupied. When we get to the second floor, a hostess with short black hair and a tailored black suit is waiting with a tablet in hand.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” She offers us a sultry smile. “May I have your names, please?”

Harrison doesn’t seem to hear her, his entire focus on surveying the room.

“Dawson Tate and Harrison Stafford,” I tell the hostess, slipping her a hundred-dollar bill.

She makes a show of checking the guest list before waving us through. “Thank you, Mr. Tate. I hope you both have a lovely evening.”

I study Harrison with concern as he aimlessly wanders the room, weaving in between patrons and tables. His usual composure is nowhere to be found, I’d find it amusing if it weren’t so disconcerting.

After he nearly collides with two different servers carrying drinks, I place a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

Harrison turns around, frowning. “What?” he snaps.

“Why don’t you tell me who we’re looking for so I can help.”

The sooner we find this mystery person, the sooner I can get the hell out of here.

He sighs. “Her name’s Fallon, and she’s catering this event,” he says, motioning around the room.

“And why are we stalking this Fallon person?”

“We’re not,” he says. “She just moved here from London and doesn’t know how dangerous the city can be. I just want to make sure she’s not being sweet-talked by some hedge fund manager into going home with him so he can show her his state-of-the-art kitchen.”

“That’s oddly specific,” I note. “But I’m sure she can manage on her own. She’s from London, and I’m guessing she’s used to navigating a big city and knows how to avoid unwanted advances.” Harrison shoots me a scowl, and I hold my hands up defensively. “Okay then. Why don’t we go back and ask the hostess if she…” I trail off when a flash of red catches my eye from across the room before disappearing into the sea of people.

My pulse quickens as I crane my neck, searching the crowd. Why are there so many people standing around?

Harrison’s voice cuts through my focus. “Now you’re the one acting strange.”

I dismiss him with a wave and take a step forward, my gaze still roaming the area. Then, I catch another glimpse of red, the woman coming into full view, and my heart races with recognition.

It’s Reese.

She’s in the far corner of the room, wearing a black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline that hugs her curves and falls just above her knees. A smile tugs at my lips when I notice her sneakers—black with intricate, hand-drawn white-and-gold flowers.

My smile fades when a man comes to stand next to her. He’s tall and lanky with short brown hair and stubble on his face. He looks to be in his early twenties. A red haze clouds my vision and my jaw ticks as I watch him lean in to tuck a strand of hair behind Reese’s ear. He says something that causes her to laugh, and the musical sound is like a magnet, drawing me closer.

My patience snaps when the man has the nerve to put his hand on Reese’s lower back and hands her a bottle of water.

“I’ll be back,” I tell Harrison, not bothering to elaborate.

I move across the club with determination, oblivious to the other partygoers who give me a wide berth as I pass. When I get closer, I can hear Reese talking. “You’re the best, Noah. Thanks for this.” She takes a long drink from the water.

“Anytime, babe. Now shouldn’t you be getting back to work?” he says with a smug grin.

That’s when I notice the serving tray tucked under Reese’s arm.

What the hell is she doing working at a club?

Better question, why did he just call her babe?

“Shouldn’t you be doing the same?” she asks with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“I had to come over and make sure you were staying hydrated. Now, finish your water,” Noah says.

“Yes, bos s,” Reese quips.

“I thought that title only belonged to me?” I cut in, my tone cold.

Her eyes widen with recognition at the sound of my voice, and her gaze shifts in my direction, holding the bottle halfway to her lips.

“D-Dawson?” she stammers, her cheeks turning red. “What are you doing here?”

Noah positions himself close to Reese as if to shield her.

“Dawson Tate,” I tell him, extending my hand.

He relaxes his stance when he hears my name and accepts my handshake. I give him a firm grip, establishing my dominance.

“I’ve heard so much about you. I’m a court clerk for the New York County Supreme Court. You’re kind of a legend there.” He chuckles nervously.

“I see. And how exactly do you know Reese?”

“We met during our freshman year in college. We’ve been friends ever since, and both of us work here. We’re also studying for the LSAT together.”

“I’m a server here,” Reese chimes in, holding up the empty tray. “And Noah’s a bartender.”

My mind reels at this information. Why didn’t she mention she had another job? Does she go home with Noah after their shift? Are they sleeping together? A flood of questions race through my mind as my gaze darts between them.

It never crossed my mind that Reese could be seeing someone. Now, all the logical questions I had pushed aside are suddenly pressing.

“Reese, can we talk somewhere in private?” I ask, tamping down my jealousy and the overwhelming urge to get her out of her.

The last thing I should do is make a scene, but I can’t wait to talk to her.

She glances at her watch, then back at me. “I have ten minutes until my break is over. We can use the office upstairs.” She turns to Noah and hands him her water bottle. “Let Lacy know I’ll be back soon.”

He gives her an affectionate smile. “Absolutely.”

“Thanks, I won’t be long,” she promises.

Reese looks back at me, her eyes stormy. She grabs my arm, tugging me toward the kitchen area. That’s when I spot Harrison engaged in a heated argument with a short blond woman wearing a chef’s apron. She’s standing with a hand on her hip and has a finger jabbed into his chest. This must be Fallon, and she seems far from happy to see Harrison.

I turn back to Reese when she tugs me through a side door and up another flight of stairs, ushering me inside an office Management embossed on the door. A large wooden desk and an office chair are situated in one corner, across from a leather couch. The walls are decorated with a series of jazz-inspired art pieces, and there are floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the club.

As soon as Reese shuts the door, I stalk toward her.

“Are you dating Noah?” It slips out before I can stop it, not that I would have anyway. I’ve learned from experience that straightforward questions are the most effective way to get the answers I want.

Reese chews on her lower lip as she eyes me with suspicion. “That’s not something you’re allowed to ask an employee.”

I shrug. “Since we’re off the clock, I’d say it’s fair game. Now stop stalling and answer the question.”

Reese huffs in frustration. “Noah is my best friend, not that I owe you an explanation.”

“Tell me, Red, do all of your friends call you babe?”

She shakes her head. “Just Noah.”

“Are you interested in him?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not, and for the record, even if I were, you’re more his type than I am.”

A wave of relief washes over me at hearing that she’s not interested in Noah. My shoulders relax and I smirk. “Is that so?”

Reese folds her arms across her chest, glaring at me. “Yes. Now that you’ve had a chance to interrogate me, it’s my turn,” she challenges. “What are you doing here? Taking a break from the tattoo parlor to find a hookup for the night?” I don’t miss her biting tone.

“Now who’s jealous?” I taunt. “I came here with a client. We usually meet at a dive bar in Brooklyn, but a woman he knows is catering an event here tonight and he wanted to see her.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who does business in dive bars.”

“I don’t. I’m not representing Harrison right now.”

“So, he’s your friend?”

“No, he’s a client.” She furrows her brow like she doesn’t understand. “Care to explain why you’re waitressing on a Friday night instead of studying and getting a good night’s sleep?” I ask, changing the subject.

She scoffs. “No. I reviewed the employee handbook before accepting my position at Thompson I like that I’m not the only one who’s affected by our proximity.

When Reese opens her eyes, she places her hand on my chest as if torn between drawing me in and pushing me away. “I hate to break it to you, but you don’t always get what you want.” She says, her hand still lingering.

I place mine over hers, savoring the warmth of her touch. “I’m just worried you’re going to spread yourself too thin.”

“I’m perfectly capable of handling things on my own,” she reminds me.

“There’s no doubt about that,” I say with a smile. “But that doesn’t mean you have to. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re important to me, Red.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

A mischievous smile crosses her face. “You’re not the only one who should get to go around calling the shots, Mr. Tate,” she murmurs. “I’d like a say in things too.”

I tilt my head, amused. “Just say the word and you can call the shots whenever you want.”

Her eyes widen for a split second before she masks her reaction. “In that case… Dawson?”

Fuck, I love it when she says my name.

“Yeah, Red?”

She rises on her toes, her lips mere inches from mine. “I’d like you to kiss me.” She leans closer. “Please.”

I thought she’d never ask.

“Damn, I like it when you’re sweet.”

I cup her chin and crash my mouth to hers. When I finally pull back, she gasps for air. I walk her backward until she is pinned to glass with her back facing the club., her eyes locked on me. I’m tired of dancing around the undeniable fact that I want Reese, and I have every intention of giving her a taste of what it would be like to spend a night with me.

She bites her bottom lip and whispers, “Why did you stop?”

“Close your eyes.”

“Daws—”

“Do you trust me?”

Despite her initial reluctance, she nods.

I press a kiss on her forehead. “Now close your eyes,” I repeat.

She does as I ask and leans her head against the wall, placing her hands at her side.

“Good girl.”

She lets out a shuddered breath in response.

“You like it when I call you my good girl, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” A teasing grin plays on her lips.

With delicate precision, I trace her angelic face, my fingers trailing across her forehead, moving to her right cheekbone, then her left. My exploration continues, gliding across her freckled nose then running the pad of my thumb across her pouty lips.

I watch the rise and fall of Reese’s chest, noting the quickening of her breath when I continue my path down the column of her neck. A surge of satisfaction courses through me, fully aware that I’m responsible for her heightened response.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” I murmur in her ear.

Her eyes flutter open, and I’m mesmerized by the depth of her emerald gaze. “You’re not so bad yourself when you’re not being a tyrant.”

Reese tilts her head back to look at me, and when she smiles, I’m a goner. She winds her arms around my neck, drawing me closer.

I cup her face with my hands, pressing kisses along her jawline. When I get to her mouth, I trace my tongue along her plump bottom lip in teasing strokes. She lets out a soft moan as her tongue meets mine, and she pulls me closer. When she tugs my lip between her teeth, our connection turns from tentative exploration to wild and frenzied.

I grind my cock against her core, and she pushes against me in response. Our moans fill the air as I explore her mouth with fervor.

It’s a fucking turn-on to witness her uninhibited side first-hand. When she cries out for more, I bunch up the material of her dress and shove it out of the way. I hike her leg around my waist, placing my other hand securely on her hip. When she grips my hair, it sparks a fuse inside me.

“No more waiting, Red.” I step back, and spin her around so she’s facing the glass wall, overlooking the club. “Look out the window,” I whisper as I wind my arm around her waist.

Reese is panting as she follows my order, her eyes darting to the people below. Her breath hitches when I push her panties aside and tease at her entrance before sinking two fingers inside her. “Damn, you’re soaked. Is this all for me?”

“Oh, Dawson,” she whimpers.

I lean forward, running my tongue along the column of her neck, leaving kisses and gentle bites along her collarbone.

When I add a third finger, Reese lets out a strangled sound of arousal. It’s the most sensual sound I’ve ever heard, making me want this—want her —even more.

Her hands are pressed against the glass as I move my fingers. Her back is arched, her ass rubbing against my cock. I wrap my free hand around her neck and tilt her head to capture her mouth in mine.

“Are you going to come on my hand with a crowd down there? Anyone could be watching.” I murmur against her lips.

She looks forward, clenching tighter around my fingers as I speak.

Looks like my Red might be an exhibitionist, although there’s no chance of that happening tonight. I noticed earlier that the windows are made of one-sided glass, but it turns me on watching Reese’s reaction to the idea that someone could be watching.

“Oh my god, don’t stop,” she breathes out.

“Not until you come like a good girl,” I promise.

I’m hard as a rock as I watch Reese unravel before me. I can sense that she’s close to the edge, her body coiling tighter with each plunge of my fingers. I strum her clit with my thumb, and within seconds she shatters around my hand. She rests the back of her head on my chest and lets out a strangled cry of pleasure. She doesn’t stop riding my hand until I’ve wrung every drop of desire from her core.

Reese is utterly captivating when she’s on the verge of release but watching her come is something else entirely.

“That’s my girl,” I praise.

I bring my fingers to my mouth, sucking them clean. Reese bites her lip, watching me with rapture. I flash her a wicked grin as I groan, relishing the taste of her essence on my tongue. She doesn’t take her eyes off me as she reaches down to massage my cock through my pants, but I shake my head.

“What about you?” she asks.

“This was about you .” I gently stroke her jaw before reaching down to smooth out her dress.

Giving her pleasure brings me a sense of fulfillment, and makes me feel closer to her.

“I’ve decided listening to you come is my new favorite sound,” I grin.

Reese blinks at me, as though she’s just coming out of a trance. The realization of what we’ve done registering.

She places her hands over her head. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just let my boss finger me in the office of a club while I’m supposed to be working. It was a lapse in judgment, that’s all,” she rushes out. “I got caught up in the moment when you called me a good girl.” A blush creeps across her cheeks at the admission. “And then you looked at me with that ridiculous smoldering gaze of yours, and I fell under your spell.”

Have I mentioned how adorable she is when she rambles.

She holds her hand up to stop me when I try to get closer. “We should pretend this didn’t happen. Every time we cross this line, we’re putting our careers at risk.”

I’d like to tell her she’s wrong and convince her to admit what just happened between us meant something to her. But she’s already nervous, and I can’t risk losing her because of my selfish desires.

“I have to get back to work,” she says abruptly.

“Woah, hold on.” I take her by the hand. “We haven’t talked about why you’re working here.”

What I’d like to do is demand she quit and haul her ass out of here. However, she’d probably leave the firm and work here full-time just to spite me.

“That’s not your problem,” she retorts.

I bring her fingers up to my lips. “I hate to break it to you, Red, but the taste of you on my tongue makes it my problem.”

I don’t miss the catch in her breath. “Can we talk about this later? I really do have to get back.”

I run my hand through my hair, willing myself not to overreact. I’m used to getting my way, but Reese has a way of turning my plans upside at every turn.

“Fine, but this isn’t over,” I state.

She pauses near the door. “Goodbye, Dawson.” she says softly before leaving the office.

With anyone else, I would have been content with what just happened. Now that I know what it feels like to have Reese wrapped in my arms—to make her come—I’m already plotting ways to make it happen again.

Before today, she’s been quick to rush out of a room after one of our interactions. Which leaves me with a glimmer of hope that things between us are moving forward—toward what?

I don’t know. But I’m willing to take the risk for Reese.