“Yeah, we’ll be rebels,” Paul said with a laugh he knew Danny or Eve would have known was purely sarcastic. “We’re really living on the edge now.”
“You’re wonderful,” Trisha said, reaching out to touch his cheek when she jumped off the barstool and stood in front of him. “I know Eve is incredibly beautiful. I can’t believe you want to leave with me instead of stay here and dance with her. I’m so lucky.”
Paul closed his eyes as the guilt knifed through him, because he knew he was going to be picturing Eve when he fucked Trisha later. He always pictured Eve whenever he fucked a woman. The dancing was just going to make the images more vivid.
“You’re beautiful too,” he said as he opened his eyes to study Trisha who was pretty by anyone’s standards, but not in the wild, uninhibited way Eve was. Instead, Trisha was polished and put together. Most importantly, she was a good person despite what Danny thought. He reached out, fingering her hair as he tried for what had to be the millionth time to feel something deeper than friendship for Trisha. “Any man would be lucky to marry you. I know you’re the best thing that could have happened to me. I appreciate you.”
Trisha beamed at him, her eyes still swirling with hunger that seemed totally misplaced on her. “I think I’m looking forward to the honeymoon.”
Paul felt a pulse of excitement over Trisha being this frisky. He knew marrying her was the best thing for him, but he couldn’t deny he was dreading a lifetime of sex with her when she never liked anything more than the absolute basics. If he could somehow find a way to spice up their sex life, leaving Danny would be a thousand times easier for him.
“If you let me go downtown.” Paul ran his eyes lower, staring at her pointedly in a way he knew she’d understand. “You would definitely look forward to our honeymoon.”
“No,” Trisha said, the lustful glaze to her eyes disappearing as suddenly as it appeared. She gave him one of her icy lawyer looks that had helped convict many criminals. “You know I don’t like that. Why do you keep pressing the issue?”
Paul took another drink of his beer, rolling his eyes in irritation. “You’ve never tried it. If you did, you wouldn’t hate it.”
“Yes, I would.”
Paul raised his gaze to hers, giving her a long look he knew was dangerous. It was a look slave Paul would use, which was decidedly out of character from the lawyer Trisha fell in love with. “You get me on my knees and you’ll wanna keep me there,” he said in a soft, sensual voice he knew for a fact could get just about anyone hot for him. “All you would have to do is ask and you would receive for as long as you want. I’d be a slave to you.”
Trisha’s eyes grew wide, her cheeks flushing red as her breath rushed out of her. For several heartbeats, Paul thought he had actually hooked her and found a way to get her interested in sex beyond the mundane. But then Trisha reached out and grabbed the beer out of his hand and put it on the bar.
“Don’t drink any more. You’ve clearly had more than enough,” she said dismissively as she tucked strands of hair behind her ears and then looked out toward the dance floor, obviously trying to spot Danny and Eve. “We need to tell them that we’re leaving. If we go now, I can show you a new pro-bono case I found for you. She works at the shelter I volunteer at and she was thrilled when I told her my fiancé was a business attorney. You don’t mind helping her with small business, do you? I know you’re used to corporate problems.”
“No, I don’t mind,” Paul said, shaking his head to clear his mind from darker things, knowing it was the beers that had him trying for something he knew was impossible. “I do more pro-bono work than firm work and all my pro-bono projects are small business. I prefer it, actually. I’d do it all the time if I wouldn’t starve to death.”
“It’ll pay off,” Trisha assured him with a smile. “Volunteering and doing pro-bono work makes you a valuable member of society.”
“And politicians need to be valuable members of society, I know,” Paul said in a bored voice. “I actually do the work because I love it, not because I’m trying to make a name for myself. Helping people makes me feel good.”
“Me too,” Trisha said, sounding completely genuine. “I wish I could do pro-bono work, but I couldn’t ever be a defense attorney. Getting criminals off the street is how I help society. But I won’t say I’m not jealous of your pro-bono projects. They make you a shoo-in for whatever local office you want to run for. Men always have the advantage. That’s why intelligent women pick good ones.”
Paul shrugged tiredly, the beer making it impossible for him to be too excited about the idea of being in politics when his dick was hard. He was thankful he had worn looser jeans and left his shirt un-tucked because he was aching for both Danny and Eve to the point even lawyer talk wasn’t cooling his ardor. He really wanted to get on his knees for Danny, not do pro-bono work for Trisha, but he knew that was impossible when Eve would surely be spending the night. Trisha sex was better than nothing.
“Let me tell Danny we’re taking off,” he said as he stood, rubbing at the back of his neck as he reeled over how desperate he was. Even vanilla sex was exciting. “Then we’ll catch a cab. I’m over Ybor City.”
Paul always hated when Trisha followed him into the house rather than just dropping him off and leaving. He just didn’t get enough opportunities to actually relax and have a few beers to let one pass by, even if it meant he was dependent on her for a ride. He had left his keys at home on purpose so he had to knock in the morning because with Danny, one never knew what they’d find. He couldn’t risk walking into the house with Trisha behind him without being certain the way was clear.
“Did you forget your keys?” Trisha asked, looking in her purse when Danny still hadn’t opened the door. “Don’t I have your key? You should give me a spare as a safety measure.”
Paul tried not to laugh. Giving Trisha a key to his house was just asking for a drama. No one had a key to their house. Even Eve was refused a key, which had upset Danny, but he knew giving Eve free access to their house without warning was something that would cut him off from Paul’s cock very quickly.
Paul knocked at the door again, his fist pounding against the wood impatiently and the door was suddenly jerked open in response. Danny stood in the doorway wearing only a pair of tight black jeans, a cigarette between his lips as he arched a dark, annoyed eyebrow at Paul.
“It was open,” he mumbled, taking a long drag off his cigarette and tilting his head away from them to blow out the smoke. “I don’t lock the door when you’re gone.”
“I forgot to check,” Paul lied as he walked into the house, pushing past Danny. “Did Evie take off?”
“She left a few minutes ago,” Danny said, closing the door when Trisha walked in behind him. “She had things to do. Are you staying for a while, Trisha?”
“A bit,” Trisha said as her eyes lingered on Danny, running over his bare chest in a way that wasn’t sexual. She had to be the only woman in the world who could look at Danny bare-chested and remain completely unaffected. It was more annoyance that had her asking, “Why don’t you ever wear a shirt? Paul never walks around with his shirt off.”
“I wonder why that is?” Danny snorted as he walked toward the kitchen. “Coffee?” “No, thank you. Paul and I are just going to go over a pro-bono case I found for
him.”
“Great. ‘Cause he doesn’t have enough of those. Why get paid when he can work for free?”
“You need to have another cup of coffee,” Paul said as he grabbed his briefcase by the front door and brought it into the kitchen.
“I have no idea how you two are friends,” Trisha said as she sat down at the kitchen table and dropped the file under her arm in front her. “I’ve never met two more opposite men in my entire life. I bet you’re a Democrat, Danny.”
“I don’t vote. But if I did I wouldn’t vote Republican.”
“You should vote,” Paul put in, knowing he was saying exactly what Danny wanted him to because he was obviously in a wicked mood this morning and felt like pissing off whoever showed up at the door. “I don’t give a shit what you vote for, but not utilizing your say in a democratic government is an insult to all the men who died to make this country what it is.”
“Well said,” Trisha said with a proud smile at Paul, before she turned and glared at Danny who sat down at the table across from them, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray casually, making it obvious he couldn’t care less Trisha was irritated with him. “I can’t believe you don’t vote. Give me one good reason for not voting. I want to hear this.”
“I think the system is flawed.” Danny shrugged as he took another drag off his cigarette and blew out the smoke slowly as he gave Trisha a dark, malicious look that said he was toying with her on purpose. “Politicians are power-hungry, greedy individuals by nature. They only care about serving themselves, not this country. Choosing one corrupt asshole over the other is pointless.”
Trisha gasped but Paul just shook his head. “He’s baiting you. Just ignore him. He needs lots more coffee. He must’ve been out until dawn.”
“Paul’s going to be a politician,” Trisha said, ignoring Paul’s advice as she gave Danny an icy stare across the table. “Do you think he’s corrupt?”
“No,” Danny said as he studied Paul pensively. “But I think he would be a horrible politician. He will never be self-serving enough to survive a political career.”
“Danny Boy,” Paul growled, knowing Danny was talking about his kinks and the fact that he sometimes had a hard time separating them from his professional life. “You’re being an asshole this morning.”
“Yeah, I bet you hate that,” Danny said sarcastically as he put out his cigarette, giving Paul a look that said he knew Paul didn’t hate it at all. Then he turned to study Trisha, his dark eyes running over her in a calculating manner. “However, you, Trisha, could be an amazing politician. I’m a very good judge of character and I’m dead-on with this. Stop prepping Paul and work on yourself. You don’t need him to grab the power you want. You’re perfectly capable of doing it all on your own.”
Trisha laughed, her eyes wide at Danny’s audacity. “You’re insulting me by saying I’d be good at serving my country. It won’t work. I find that a compliment.”
“I thought you might,” Danny said with another long look at Paul, his dark eyes swirling with mischief and something darker and more tempting. “I bought some ice cream, want some?”
Paul’s breath caught as he stared back at Danny for one long moment, suddenly aching for him with every ounce of his being. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he
turned away from Trisha, because he knew what Danny was suggesting. Just the mention of it caused a rocket fire of lust to shoot straight to his cock and he knew it showed on his face.
“What flavor?” he couldn’t resist asking in a soft, sensual voice he knew got Danny hard and desperate. It was a small blessing Trisha was largely oblivious to sexual tension because it was suddenly choking the air out of the kitchen as he turned back to stare at Danny hungrily. “Not vanilla? I’m not in the mood for it.”
“Sick of it?” Danny asked curiously, his voice light. “Already?”
“I’m never in the mood for it,” Paul admitted distantly, his eyes lowering to stare at Danny’s bare chest as need shimmered over his skin. “I hate it.”
“I didn’t know you hated vanilla ice cream,” Trisha said distractedly as she worked at sorting out the papers in the file. “You’ve eaten it at my place.”
“I have never
eaten
vanilla at your place,” Paul said, casting a dark look at Trisha. “Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t hate it so much.”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” Danny whispered in disbelief, clearly understanding the true meaning of Paul’s complaint and staring at him in shock because of it. “That can’t be true.”
Paul raised his eyebrows at Danny, making it clear he was not joking. Danny shook his head, his eyes wide as he pushed away from the table. “I’ll leave you two alone to work on your case.”
“Thank you,” Paul said and then took a deep breath to clear his head from the lust pulsing through his veins. He got Danny’s message loud and clear, the sooner he got rid of Trisha the better. He ran both his hands through his hair, his fingers lacing together at the back of his neck as he stared down at the file Trisha was organizing for him, trying to find a way to concentrate. “I think I need some coffee, Danny Boy. Can you get me some?”
“Sure,” Danny said in a low, rasping voice as he stood there staring at Paul who still had his hands behind his head. His thoughts were written all over his face as his breathing fell shallow. “Cream?”
Paul had to bite his tongue rather than laugh. “Please,” he said teasingly, leaving his hands behind his head on purpose. He let his eyes run over Danny seductively, finding that he was every bit as hard as Paul was. He raised his gaze to his bare chest once more, admiring his smooth, tan skin. “I like
café con leche
.”
Danny’s smile got broader as he shook his head slowly, his eyes darting to Trisha who was still completely ignorant of the two of them practically fucking each other with words and looks across the kitchen. “Unbelievable, Paul Guy,” he said with a sigh as he went to make the coffee. “Talk about opposites. Worst pairing in the universe.”
Paul sent a glance at Trisha for that one. She was still oblivious as she worked at highlighting sections of black print with long, sensual strokes that betrayed her passion for law and organization above all things.
“I can actually read it myself and find the pertinent information,” Paul said with a frown as he watched her flip the page and start highlighting with the same level of zeal. “Is there anything in that file that pertains to criminal law?”
“No,” Trisha said with a laugh. “But I like helping. If I can’t do my own pro-bono cases the least I can do is help with yours. They’re fun, much lighter than what I usually do. No crime photos for one.”
“You adore being a prosecutor, crime photos and all,” Paul said, wincing when she covered half the page with strips of blinding yellow. “The only reason you’re decorating my file is because you have a love affair going on with highlighters. Please stop doing that. I hate highlighters. I made my assistant throw all hers away.”