Legal Briefs (Lawyers in Love) (12 page)

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

“This is going to be an incredible night.”

“Did you make sure to tell all my neighbors on the way up?” I teased.

“If we don’t go now, they’re going to find out on their own,” he said in a low, sexy voice that sent a rush of heat straight to my lady bits.

“I’ll get my coat,” I said, feeling a little dizzy again. As I turned to walk away I heard him whistle.

“I love the back and the seams. Baby, those almost break my heart.” I looked over my shoulder and gave him another sexy smile. He followed along behind me and when I got my coat out he took it from me and helped me into it. I glanced around a little apprehensively. I was nervous about leaving my few valuables behind.

“Maybe I should bring my laptop.”

“Why? Do they expect you to actually
write
a book while you’re there?”

“No.” I took a deep breath, and suddenly, it seemed stupid not to say anything. “I had the feeling, earlier, when I came home, that somebody had been in my apartment.” There I said it.

“Why did you think that?” Adam asked, looking at me intently and tightening his grip on my arm.

“My curtains were closed, even though I always leave them open, and the fan was on, but I never put it on in cold weather.”

“You really should. It distributes the heat.”

“I
know
! Adam, I think someone was in here!”

“Nothing was missing or damaged?’

“No,” I admitted.

“The door was locked?”

“Yes, and the locks look fine, but Adam, I know my habits.”

“Okay, maybe it was the landlord, or a maintenance guy. Why would anyone else put the fan on? It must have been someone checking the wiring or something.”

“You may be right. It’s never happened before, but it’s
possible
,” I acknowledged.

“That’s
probably
the answer. Why don’t you call your landlord tomorrow and verify it? Is that why Bruce was here, by the way, because you were scared?”

“
Scared
is a strong word, uncomfortable maybe.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because you had just dropped me off …” I sighed and opted for the truth. “And I figured you would think I was crazy or being dramatic or something.”

“Since when do you care what I think?” He laughed and I looked up at him, probably a little miserably, because the look he gave me was warm and amused. “Come on, Lilah or we’re going to be late.” He put his arm around me and we left.

Adam was being exceptionally polite, opening doors, helping me into the car. I liked it a lot. I made a decision not to censor myself. I got to be a bad girl that night, and I was going to enjoy it without letting self-consciousness get in my way. So, when he tested the waters by asking me to tell him more about my novel, I didn’t shy away.

“When did you write that book, anyway?”

“I started it this summer and it just flowed. I was done within a couple of months. I’ve never written one that quickly before.” I paused and glanced over at him. “Was there anything, in particular, that you liked?” I asked curiously and I saw him smile.

“The fact that the main characters looked like us.” He laughed.

“I meant …”

“I knew what you meant,” he broke in, taking a deep breath and blowing it back out again before going on. “This will probably sound weird,” he started, sounding embarrassed, eyes fixed on the road, “but my, uh, encounters are very casual, and so it’s pretty much the same routine, I go down, she goes down, we have sex, I thank her and I leave. There’s no sensual massage or bathing together or anything like that. I liked that. It was really, you know, erotic.”

He sounded very uncomfortable, which was understandable. He wasn’t just admitting that he liked the idea of sensuality, he was admitting that he liked the idea of sexual intimacy. His honesty, and his willingness to share that, excited me almost as much as his answer – almost.

“You liked it when I touched your face?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered quietly but firmly.

“I liked it too,” I said simply.

“Is that … I mean, is that how you usually …”

“Sensual touching and massage? No actually. I’ve read about it, and talked to people about it, but I’ve never really felt comfortable enough with someone to explore it. I would like to though.”

“Me too.”

I could see by his look that he was thinking about it, and I was feeling almost high with anticipation and the knowledge that he wanted me. There was something weighing on my mind, though, that kept encroaching on my happiness. I needed to hear him tell me it would be more than tonight, and I also needed to know if there would be other blondes in other clubs who I would have to share him with. I was worried that the answer was going to be ‘yes,’ and I was seriously scared that my answer would still be ‘yes’ too.

“Adam, this isn’t the only time that we’ll be …?”

“No,” he said before I could even finish, giving me a serious look. I took a deep breath.

“And will you still be going out and …?”

“Just you.”

“Really?” My pulse rate shot up exponentially and a slightly stunned, very relieved sense of joyful excitement spread through me. I actually got goosebumps.

“What, you didn’t think I anticipated
that
request? Why do you think it’s taken three months to ask you on a date? I wanted to be ready.”

“I just didn’t know if you would agree to it. Hell, I didn’t even know if you would consider it.”

“Then you underestimate yourself.” That startled me so much my breath caught.

“You know that I probably would have been willing …”

“Just you, Lily. Give me your hand,” he said, taking one of his off the wheel and glancing quickly at me.

“Why?” I asked suspiciously.

“Because I want to arm wrestle. Because I want to hold it, you nutty broad. Why do you think?” I reached out and grabbed his hand and he squeezed mine gently. His was so much bigger it covered mine completely and it felt warm and strong.

“To be honest, I’ve never really done a lot of this affectionate stuff. My relationships have been mostly monogamous, but in some ways, they haven’t been all that different than your encounters,” I admitted. “I like it with you, though. Maybe because we’ve known each other a long time, or maybe there’s just something … I don’t know.”

“I’ve never been touchy feely either. I guess I like to touchy feely you, though,” he joked. Five minutes later we were parking at Inferno.

Inside we checked our coats and I saw that Adam was dressed head to toe in black, black suit, black shirt, black tie, and he looked sexy as hell. I took a good look at his closely shaved chin and I saw him smile.

“Don’t worry. The way my beard grows, it’ll probably be back by the time we leave.” He offered me his arm and escorted me in the direction of the main club.

“We’re supposed to go to a private reception first where fans who bought tickets can come in and have their books signed. Afterward, we’ll go out and dance and socialize.”

“I’m looking forward to dancing with you. I’m going to get a little closer than Bruce did, though,” he said, smiling down at me, and I happily remembered Bruce’s comments about guys who could dance.

I hadn’t been to this club before, as it was pretty new. It wasn’t all that exciting, just your usual trendy hangout. There was the standard dance floor, D.J. station, huge bar area and lounge-type seating with lots of small tables and booths lining the walls. It was nice enough but nothing special. A young woman dressed in a devil costume met us at the entrance and escorted us through a set of double doors at the back, that I wouldn’t have seen if she hadn’t shown us.

As soon as we were out of the main dance club area, I saw a change in atmosphere. Back here, no expense had been spared to recreate the feeling that one was descending into something decadent, and likely debauched. The walls of the hallway in front of us were brick and arched overhead. It felt like we were entering into a Gothic mansion, or possibly, a medieval dungeon. She led us to another set of doors, these two with large brass rings for handles, and then we passed through them into Hell.

Before us was a large, opulently decorated, private room. The walls were paneled in what looked like ebony, and elaborate brass sconces held what appeared to be actual torches at first. I saw on closer examination, that they were clever electric reproductions, but they threw wavering shadows just like real flames. There were also large reproductions of famous scary paintings like Fuseli’s
The Nightmare
and Bouguereau’s
Dante and Virgil in Hell
. Cute place. Tables made of dark wood, roughly hewn, but heavily lacquered, were set up along the walls. Behind them sat chairs upholstered in rich-looking blood red velvet. The centerpiece of the room, however, was a huge golden statue of a dragon with red jeweled eyes. It sat in the middle of a stone well-like structure that was filled with something that looked like lava. Again, though, I realized it was an optical illusion. Adam and I just stood there for a second, taking it all in.

“Wow, Lilah, you’re into some funky shit,” he said finally.

“Well, this is different than the book signing I did at the Marriott,” I noted.

The one thing that did make it slightly less creepy, was the fact that normal-looking people were milling about among the devil costumes of the waiters and waitresses. I saw another woman approach us with a friendly smile. This one was holding a clipboard.

“Hi, I’m Angie from …”

“I recognize you!” I said excitedly to the friendly book blogger who I had chatted with online many times. “I’m Lilah Alden. It’s nice to finally meet you in person. This my uh, my date, Adam.” Why did that feel so incredibly weird to say out loud?

She and I chatted for a few minutes and she pointed out some other people in the room. There were many who were familiar to me, authors from around the area. Angie also pointed out a guy over in the corner with an attractive brunette on his arm. The guy himself was good-looking in sort of a slick way.

“That’s Tony Amato. He owns this club. He offered us the room for free. His girlfriend, Roxanne, there, is a big romance fan.”

Someone gestured to Angie and she went over to greet a new arrival. I recognized Katherine Rhodes, a local author who wrote BDSM erotica. I turned to Adam and saw him staring intently over in the direction of Tony and Roxanne.

“Something interesting about them? Besides their taste in décor I mean,” I asked.

“Just wondering why he’s looking so happy-go-lucky when his cousin is about to stand trial. There are rumors that the government has a witness who can put not only Moretti, but half of his family away. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tony boy over there didn’t have his fingers in a few questionable pies.”

“Great. You’re saying that we’re at a party, obviously thrown by the Marquis de Sade, and it’s in a club owned by a guy in the mafia?”

“A club owned by somebody in the mafia? Who ever heard of that? But I’m sure Mr. Amato over there is an upstanding businessman,” Adam said sarcastically. “Who’s that other dude over there, by the way? He seems to be drawing a crowd.”