Page 23 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

“Rob was just telling me I have a new desk assignment,” I interject.

“Someonehas been monopolizing your time and forgets I’m the lead counsel on the Irving case. I need you close by to help keep it running smoothly,” Dawson says, casting a disapproving glance at Rob, who remains silent like the coward he is. He has no qualms about talking badly about Dawson behind his back, but when push comes to shove, he folds like a cheap suit. It’s almost laughable. “Come, Reese, I need you upstairs,” Dawson adds, turning on his heel toward the elevator.

I drag my hand across my face, exasperated. How could he interfere… again? It’s not like I enjoy working with Rob, but Dawson keeps steamrolling my choices. I wish he could see thatmy input matters. This is my job, and I’d rather not be caught in his constant tug-of-war with Rob.

“Are you coming?” Dawson calls over his shoulder.

I adjust my purse on my shoulder as I rush to catch up, finding it challenging to do so in heels.

When we reach the elevator, he gestures for me to enter first, placing a hand on my lower back as he ushers me inside. My traitorous heart races, and heat spreads across my cheeks.

Any other person would reprimand him for infringing on professional decorum, yet my body responds to his touch like a moth to a flame. My logical side reminds me that the man touching me is my boss—myoff-limitsboss.

As much as I try to push it aside, my mind replays our kiss at the tattoo parlor like it has thousands of times before.

Dawson’s hands band around my waist as he tugs me close to his chest. He kisses along my jawline, flicking his tongue along the seam of my lips, coaxing me to let him in, and the warmth of his mouth… It’s incredible. The way he growls makes my pulse quicken, a dangerous thrill running through me.

I revel in the way my legs feel wrapped around his body, his strong hands holding me in place, like a promise not to let me go. God, the way his cock feels rubbing against my core, and my nipples grow achy, desperate for his touch.

I’m jolted back to the present when the elevator doors close. When I notice that Dawson and I are alone, I take a deep breath and ask, “Why did you move me to your floor?”

He turns toward me, his eyes meeting mine. “Like I told Rob, I want you there so you’re close when I need you.”

A shiver ripples through me. He only means in a professional capacity, but there’s something in his voice that I can’t quite place—a mix of authority and unspoken desire. Which shouldn’t send heat rushing to my cheeks, but I feel the warmth spreadingregardless. Being around him always leaves me feeling both unsteady and exhilarated, and I look away, hoping he doesn’t notice my reaction.

I smooth down the crease in my skirt and say, “It would have been nice to know about being reassigned to a different floor, that’s all.”

Dawson lets out a sigh. “Why does it feel like you’re unhappy about something I’ve done every time we’re alone?”

I tilt my head to face him, finding the courage to speak my mind. “Must be your talent for getting under my skin.”

He reaches out to gently place his hand on my arm. “I’m only trying to help you.”

I scoff. “Help me? What you’re doing is causing me more problems.”

His brow furrows. “How so?”

His interference not only aggravates Rob, but I’m worried it could lead others to question the nature of our relationship since I’m new and already getting preferential treatment. Especially given that Dawson never escorts anyone to his office unless they’re about to be terminated or face serious disciplinary action.

“My god, you’re infuriating, Red,” he mutters when I don’t answer. “Most paralegals would jump at the chance to work with a managing partner, yet here you are, trying to escape me every chance you get.”

I blink rapidly and pull back, moving my head to look at him. “Lucky? Do you realize how it looks for a new hire to receive special treatment?” I inquire with a humorless laugh. “The last thing I want is to risk my reputation by being shown favoritism from the boss.”

“What if that’s exactly what’s going on?” His tone is sincere.

My breath catches. “Explain.”

He hesitates, his gaze lingering on my mouth for a long moment. “I like being around you, Ms. Taylor, and if you haven’t noticed, I can’t stand most people,” he says with a half-hearted chuckle. “Frankly, I don’t give a damn what other people think, and if there’s someone that I trust and enjoy spending time with, I’m going to have them report directly to me. It’s that simple.”

My mouth falls open in disbelief that Dawson Tate, of all people, just admitted that he likes having me around.

I should probably be upset that he openly admitted I’m being treated differently. From a professional standpoint, it’s inappropriate. Yet, it’s impossible toshake the butterflies that take flight in my stomach when I hear that he might care more than he should.

Seeing a glimpse of his unguarded side makes me want to share something in return.

I let out a long breath and glance over at him. “When I found Stacey at my desk this morning, I thought I might have been fired.” My voice comes out in a whisper.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Dawson says, pausing to run a hand through his hair. “That wasn’t my intention. I was worried if I told you ahead of time, you would have said no,” he admits.

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