Page 28 of Dissension

“Dieter…?”

“Hush. I want to show you something.” He sounds husky, which makes her glance at him oddly.

“In the middle of nowhere?” She gives Dieter a suspicious glance, her brow furrowed slightly, mouth twisted in skepticism.

He tugs her around another corner. The remote men’s bathroom. “Smile and look pretty. No one will question this.”

Oh. Oh,hell no, she doesn’t like where this is going. “What isthis? Dieter-”

He waltzes into the bathroom as if nothing is amiss, as if bringing a woman inside is no big deal. A few guys look a little surprised, and an older gentleman definitely looksverydisapproving, like he’s mentally scolding Kara’s upbringing, her ancestors, and her bank account, but no one says a word.

Without a care, Dietrich checks a stall and pulls Kara inside with him. The sound of people leaving the bathroom echoes on the tile floors. Kara finds herself up against her client, feeling distinctly out of her league. Should she be screaming for help? Is that whatnormalyoung women do in a situation like this?

“Whatarewedoing in a bathroom stall? At acharity gala.” Kara asks warily, unamused. She’s crammed up against him, can smell the faint whirl of his crisp cologne, aquatic with green apples.

“Hold out your arm,” he says shortly, opening his sport coat, digging around.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not doing this off the back of the toilet, that’s why.”

Dieter shifts around and pulls out a cylinder, dumping some of it on her outstretched arm. Kara stares. She stares some more. Her mouth works and she can’t even think of what to say. Does she stop him? Does she play mom and tell him that his habit is out of control? There’s cocaine on her arm!

There he goes, leaning over her arm, snorting a pale white line off her skin, head going back for a minute as he straightens up. Kara swallows and wishes she had somewhere to look other than at him. She squeezes her thighs together with shame; why does he look so good?

“Want some?” His voice is surprisinglyrough, like five hours of sex rough. He rubs his nose and blinks owlishly.

“Ah…no. Dieter-” She shakes her arm off, making the residue vanish.

He steps forward, backing her up against the stall wall. Thudding into it, feeling off balance, Kara puts her hands on his shoulders, ready to shove him into next Tuesday. What is he doing, pushing up on her like this?

But instead of rubbing up against her as she imagined he might, he sinks down, crouching on one knee, hands cupping her hips. His thumbs press in lightly, lifting up her dress a tiny hint.

Oh. Oh my God. “What are you doing?!” Is that high pitched sound her voice? “Get off the ground! This is a bathroom!”

Those eyes, now blacker than the pits of hell, stare up at her in a way that makes her knees feel weak. A thin band of green lines the blown pupils and she knows that she’s all he sees in this very moment. Her stomach flips, clenching hard.

It’s impossible to look away from him, not when he looks likethis.

His intent is clear in the way that his hands travel across her shape, sliding downward slowly. A warmth that she canfeel through the material of her dress. Tingling want, the heat between her legs. Sharp, insistent. Craving devious, terrible things. This man, the one that everyone watches enter a room, is kneeling at her feet.

“What are you doing?” A whisper, terrified and hypnotized all at once. She can’t look away from him.

She’s never…she’s attracted to him, but…he isn’t supposed to bein reach. He isn’t supposed to want her, his bottom-tier lawyer. This is an impossibility.

“You know what I’m doing.” Her dress is sliding upwards, his eyes still pinned on hers. “Stop me, if you want.”

Her face must be red. She’s barely breathing, caught in the gaze of a viper. Kara realizes at that moment that she’s not going to stop him; she doesn’twantto stop him. If she said stop, he’d stop, no doubt about it.

He’s not the man that came before him and he’s looking at the apex of her thighs now. He runs his thumb over the crease of her panties up in her slit, making her shudder. A trickle of wet builds between her nether lips.

“We shouldn’t do this. You’re my client and we’re in a f-fucking bathroom stall.” Why is she stuttering?

Dieter’s nose presses against her, inhaling in a way that makes her quiver. A gasp slips from Kara. Her thighs begin to spread of their own accord.

His mouth moves against her, Kara’s underwear the only barrier between them. “Don’t be such a priss; you got me hard with your bossy attitude in that room.” His words are heated against her, straight through the thin scrap of fabric. Shivers ride down her spine. “Have your reward.”

Reward?!Like a corporate bonus, except it’s his tongue against her flesh?

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