“Courtney Blackmore.”Zander’s laughter throws his head back.“Christ, you’re not intimidated by me at all, are you?”
No.
I’m infuriated by him.
I lift a shoulder.I’ve dealt with worse people growing up, and while I find him rude and obnoxious, I know he’s not going to hit me like the man I thought I loved.Zander, at least, is consistently one mood, unlike my father who was like Jekyll and Hyde.That’s much worse.
“Let me walk you to the door,” he says after climbing out, and we’re both standing on the sidewalk.
“Absolutely not.You’re my lawyer, not a date andnotmy friend.”I hold out my hand and wink.“Remember?”
I grin at his shocked face, then turn and walk into my building, making sure my hips swing a little more than usual.
CHAPTER NINE
ZANDER
––––––––
As I run through thepark, I try to get the image of Courtney winking at me out of my head.
I fail.
Again.
All night I tossed and turned, dreaming about her.Of laying her out on my office sofa and burying my face in her pussy.Of pulling her onto my lap while we drove through Manhattan and yanking my cock out of my pants, telling her to sit on it.Of following her up to her penthouse and stripping every inch of clothing off her tofinallyget a glimpse of her breasts.
C-cups.I’d put money on it.
I shouldn’t have touched her; that’s what started this.The zing of arousal that shot through me the moment I felt the warmth of her body on my palm.
I want more.
Like forbidden fruit, I want more.
I’m starting to paint a picture of who Courtney Blackmore, nee Courtney Jones, is.
