Bound by Tinsel (6 page)

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Authors: Melinda Barron

Tags: #Erotic Romance

BOOK: Bound by Tinsel
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She took off the headset and wiggled down into the bed, letting her fingers touch her clit gently. It took no time at all for her to climax. Her pussy was soaking wet and she imagined Burke Gordon over her, pumping his hard cock into her tightness.

“Burke!” She yelled out his name as she came, then turned and buried her face in the pillow, tears flooding down her face. Damn, life really did suck.
Big time.
She finally found a man who seemed to appreciate her and he was unattainable. She wanted to curl up into a ball and stay in this one place for the rest of her life.

Chapter Seven

 

 

He was such a moron. Burke stared at the information on his desk, wondering why
he’d
done something that he’d known was wrong. The last two nights with Serendipity had been perfect, and when
he’d
woken up this morning and realized he’d fallen asleep thinking she was beside him in his bed, he knew he had to do something about it.

He’d
called one of the firm’s private investigators and put him on the case. “This is personal,” Burke had said. “Bill me, and don’t say anything to anyone.”

O’Brien hadn’t asked any questions, and an hour and a half later, Burke’s home fax machine had whirled to life, spitting out the name and address of one Fallon Nicholas, a court reporter who lived right here in San Diego.

His cock had hardened when her picture had rolled out of the machine. She was absolutely gorgeous. The photo
had been pulled
from the Phelps and Jones website, and Burke had gone to the site immediately, verifying what O’Brien had told him.

Fallon Nicholas was thirty-three, which made her a year older than
Burke
. She was not a pencil thin girl, but a voluptuous woman. She had rich dark hair and hazel eyes that shone with merriment as she smiled for the camera.

Burke fingered the papers once more and an image of her on her knees, her mouth wrapped around his cock popped into his mouth. His dick sprang into action, pressing against his pants. This
wouldn’t
do, wouldn’t do at all. He had a meeting with Mr. Watson in thirty minutes, and if he went in there with a hard on, that would be a bad thing.

Things on the Thompson divorce were not going well, and the firm was not happy. But Burke was, as long as he thought about Serendipity…no Fallon. That was
who
he’d talked to last night. He had to have this woman in his life, and it had to be more than just over the phone.

The decision to call Phelps and Jones was rash, but he had to hear her voice.

The receptionist answered and he asked to speak with Ms. Nichols. Seconds
later
her sensuous voice came through the phone and settled right in his balls. “This is Fallon.”

“Hello, this is Burke Gordon from White, Watson and Wilson.”

There was the slightest pause and then she said
,
her voice just a little deeper than it had been moments ago. “Yes, sir, what can I do for you?”

Pleasure shot through him. She knew who he was. She knew he was Mr. X.

“Your firm did a deposition for us last week and the file seems to have been misplaced. I was wondering if you could bring it by my office, say at
six?

She was breathing heavily now, almost like she had been the first night, when he’d wanted her more than he’d wanted anything in a long time. That was until the next night.
And the next one.
There was a definite pattern forming where this woman was concerned.

“I…I wasn’t the person assigned to that case, Sally was. I can…”

“I want you, and no other.”

“We can’t.” She whispered the words. “I can’t. It’s not supposed to…”

“Oh, and Serendipity?”

“Yes?”

He stroked his cock through his pants, afraid he would shoot off in his jeans like a teen-age boy. “Leave your panties in the car.”

He hung up before she could answer. The only thing to do now was wait and see if she appeared as
he’d
asked her to.

* * * *

Fallon stared at the phone in her hand, her heart racing. She cringed at the thought that
she’d
actually answered to that name on the work phone.
What the hell
was she doing? And how in the hell had he figured out who she was? It
wasn’t
supposed to happen!

He might like her cyber blowjobs, but when he found out she was a size sixteen, and not a size two, he would run for the hills. There was no way she could go to his office. Why was he doing this?
Couldn’t
he just be satisfied with phone sex?

Obviously not.
Maybe she could hire someone to pretend to be her. No, that
wouldn’t
work. The first time he mentioned something about riding her until she screamed in release that person would scream and run.

Besides, she had to be truthful with herself. If
he’d
searched her out, he obviously already knew she wasn’t anything like the beautiful women he was used to being with.

She should call him back right now, tell him there was no way she could come and see him. That would be the best thing to do. She picked up the phone, and then immediately put it back down.

“Leave your panties in the car.” His command echoed in her eyes. He planned to have sex with her tonight.
No, not with her, with Serendipity.
Crap! Why was this happening to her? She needed to talk with the agency about beefing up their security if he could find out the identity of an artist so fast. Had they given it to him, or had he hired someone to find it? She was betting on the latter. Of course
she’d
found him just as quickly. She tried to justify her hacking by convincing herself that she worked there, and it
wasn’t
so illegal, even though she knew it was.

“What’s wrong, did you eat a large pizza for lunch and it’s coming back up on you?”

Fallon pushed back and stood up. “Screw you, Sally. Get the hell away from my desk.”

“Such language.
I’m sure Elaine would be very upset to hear it.”

There was a deep sigh and they both turned toward their boss. “I’m tired of hearing you two
fight
. This is not a schoolyard where you can go at it anytime you want. Straighten up or I’ll can you both.” She glared at them, then handed Fallon a manila folder. “You’re to take this to Burke Gordon at his office. Be there at six on the dot.”

That sneaky little bastard.
He’d
known she would try to weasel out it and he’d fixed it so she couldn’t. At least he
hadn’t
said anything to Elaine about Fallon not wearing panties for this errand.

Sally made a grab for the folder but Elaine pulled it away.

“I did that case,” Sally whined. “I should be the one to deliver it if he needs another copy.”

“He asked for
Fallon,
and Fallon he will get.” The look Elaine gave Sally said it all: one more word and
you’re
gone.

Fallon took the folder and Elaine headed toward her office.

“Trying to steal my clients now? You’re not going to get away with it, I’ll see to that.”

Sally stalked off and Fallon stared at the clock. It was a little after four. She had almost two hours to come up with a way to get out of this meeting. As she thought of escape
routes
her anger built. How dare he do this?

It was a million to one shot that
they’d
live in the same city, much less work in the legal field. But for him to take advantage of that work to find her, and to contact her, breached a level of trust
they’d
built from their first night together. Sure,
they’d
talk about things she’d never talked about with other clients, but that didn’t give him the right to search her out.

Since Burke would have told her last night that he knew she lived in
San Diego
, she was pretty sure the PI had found her in less than twenty-four hours. Hell, it had probably taken him less than two—or even one hour; a few clicks of the mouse and
he’d
probably been home free.

“Son of a bitch.”
She sat down at her desk,
then
gave an apologetic smile to Lindsey, who sat next to her. “Sorry.”

Lindsey gave her a small smile and turned back to her computer. The more she thought about Burke tracking her down, the madder she got. The fact that
she’d
searched out his identity wasn’t the same thing.
She’d
found out who he was, yes, but she hadn’t tried to contact him.

And she never would have. That was going too far. The idea of skipping the meeting flew out of her head.
She’d
go see him, all right; and she’d give him a piece of her mind.

Chapter Eight

 

 

The building was huge.
She’d
driven by it lots of times but had never been inside. Messengers dropped off depositions and court records; court reporters
didn’t
run this type of errand. She worried about
Sally’s reaction, and whether or not she would try to cause trouble over this
. It
wouldn’t
surprise her if she did.

The two had taken an instant dislike to each other, something that rarely happened to Fallon. She
didn’t
like to think of it happening now, or that it would come up and bite her on the ass where Burke was concerned.

Burke.
Somewhere inside this
building
he sat at his desk, waiting for her to come up. She had to stay strong and let him know this
couldn’t
happen. The only way to do that was to go in with guns blazing, to be madder than hell and let him have it.

Yeah, good thinking Fallon.
If you really felt that
way
why did you go into the bathroom and take your panties off?
Her pussy was dripping wet at the prospect of seeing him. And
she’d
done what he’d asked her to do.

Damn it! She slapped her fist against the steering wheel of her car,
then
whimpered as pain shot up her arm. Yeah, that was
real
bright, too.

She snatched up the envelope and headed into the building.

At the front she showed her ID to a security guard, who checked a sheet, and then buzzed her in. She went into the elevator, punching the number nine, and tried not to look nervous as the car made its ascent.

After all, as far as anyone knew she was only here to drop off a deposition. They didn’t know she was a phone sex operator who was about to meet the man who’d made her orgasm as if it were the Fourth of July and she were a fireworks display.

The elevator dinged and she stepped off. The receptionist’s desk was empty, but per the guard’s instructions, she turned to the left and headed down the hallway, her palms sweating as she counted off the doors: one, two, three—four.

The door was open and from her vantage
point
she could see a long leather sofa sitting against the wall. There was a low table in front of it. She pushed the door open wider and walked inside. His office was bigger than the living room in her apartment. Off to the right was a small table with three chairs. In front of a bank of windows was a huge desk, behind which sat Burke Gordon.

He watched her intently
,
his eyes alight with interest
. “Hello, Fallon. Please close the door.”

“I’d rather not.” She hurried to the desk and slapped the file down. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“I think you look absolutely perfect in this office.” The look he gave her said he knew what she looked like naked, and she supposed in a way he did.
They’d
been wonderfully intimate with each other, talking about dreams and wishes, but they’d also been wonderfully nasty with each other, too, discussing sex and listening to each other orgasm.
Repeatedly.

“Why did you call for me?”

“Because I wanted to meet you.”
He stood and strode around the side of the desk.

Fallon backed toward the door, determined not to let him get too near her. She
wasn’t
sure she could resist him if he touched her.

“This breaks every rule.
I’m
never supposed to meet with clients. It’s forbidden.”

“No one will find out.” He was edging closer to her, as if he
were
a hunter and he had her in his sights.

“Someone always finds out, Burke.” She threw out her arms and laughed. “You’re a lawyer; it’s why you have this huge fancy office, because someone
always
finds out. And then people get sued, or divorced, or they sue someone.”

Fallon stepped into the hallway, continuing to walk backward, increasing her pace so there was distance between them. “Perhaps it’s better if you don’t call me anymore.”

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