Forget the goopy, romantic stuff. The sex had been damn fantastic.
Kim had to stop thinking about it. She had to be professional and do her job. She had other cases to prepare for, a load of witness statements and evidence reports to go through. Brian’s defense to figure out, the private investigator’s weekend reports to read.
Once she won Brian’s case, she’d be finished with Shifters. Fergus’s wishes would be a moot point, Liam wouldn’t need to guard her anymore, and he’d go back to Shiftertown and leave her alone. For good.
Why did the world suddenly go colorless at that thought?
Kim dumped files back into her briefcase. “I need to talk to Brian. I assume you want to come with me? We’ll take my car—I’m not riding to the county jail on the back of your motorcycle.”
Liam didn’t move. “You’re not going to see Brian.”
“I need to. I want to ask him about Michelle again, whether he planned to mate with her, whether he already did. If Brian thought of her as his mate, he’d never have hurt her, right? He’d come over all protective, defend her rather than attack her.”
“You might be right about that, but you’re still not going to see him.”
Kim clicked the briefcase shut. “Why not? He’s in jail. He’s not going anywhere.”
Liam finally came off the couch. “You’re not going because Fergus told you to drop the case.”
He was a tall, solid wall, blocking her way to the door. “We’ve discussed this. I say screw Fergus.”
“I wouldn’t. I hear it’s not good.”
Kim didn’t laugh. “So you agree with him?”
“I didn’t say that.” Liam rested his hands on her shoulders. She’d never get by him, and she knew it. At the same time, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d prevent her from leaving, but not by hurting.
“Then what are you saying?” she asked.
“That Fergus won’t trust me to keep you off the case. I was the one who talked him into letting you come to Shiftertown in the first place. So he’ll have sent his own men to watch you, to stop you. I’m here to keep them from tangling with you. If you go to the jail, there will be tangling.”
Kim made a noise of exasperation. “Explain how I’m supposed to defend a man I’m not allowed to talk to. I need to ask him questions, important questions.”
“Ask him some other way.”
Kim tried to dart around him. Liam put one arm out and hauled her back against him.
“Liam.”
He closed both arms around her and pulled her close. “Do this my way, love. Don’t mess with Fergus more than you have to. He’ll make you regret it.”
Kim wanted to succumb to the wonderful, protected feeling of having his arms around her. Even her parents hadn’t been this protective of her. After Mark had died, they’d wavered between being overly paranoid about her safety to backing way off when they realized they were smothering her.
They’d gone on like that until they’d died. She’d found herself alternately on a choke chain or floundering during her parents’ “you don’t even have to check in with us” moods.
Liam’s protection was like a soft blanket, not a leash, but the tether was there nonetheless.
“I can’t work like this,” Kim said.
“We’ll find a way.” Liam kissed the crown of her head.
The warm touch of his lips electrified the memories of their lovemaking, reminding her that her throat was still scratchy from all the screaming. She couldn’t help putting her hand on his waistband and sliding her fingers downward, her pulse speeding when she found that he was hard and hot behind his zipper.
Liam laughed. “Vixen.” He tilted her head back and kissed her.
Liam was still learning how to kiss. Which meant he experimented and explored, his tongue sliding all over hers while he gripped her bu**ocks with one firm hand. He tasted like the gum he’d been chewing, minty fresh.
If anyone came in, they’d see his sun-browned hand planted against her gray business skirt, Kim letting a Shifter put his tongue down her throat. And they wouldn’t know the half of it.
“Stop,” she whispered. “Don’t do this to me.”
A gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’d never hurt you, Kim.”
“It’s not pain I’m worried about.” Kim rested her head against his chest. His skin was hot through the shirt, his heart pounding at breakneck speed. “It’s me.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“I know what I mean. You are seriously damaging my mental health.”
Liam broke away, but he was smiling. “You mean I make you spare.”
“If that means crazy, then yes. That too.”
There was a soft knock on the door, and Jeanne poked her head in. She carried in a tray of coffee, in real mugs, not Styrofoam cups. Kim turned from Liam, hoping she looked nonchalant.
Jeanne set the coffee on the polished side table. “Abel is looking for you.”
“Abel?” For one crazy moment, Kim couldn’t remember who he was. Ah, yes, buttoned-up, executive ex-boyfriend. The man who looked incredibly boring next to Liam. “What does he want?”
“To ask you about the judge you had on that indecent exposure case. He’s got a similar case before the same judge.”
“Oh.” Business. Tips on what swayed a judge or pissed him off. Kim had won the case, because the man they’d arrested had had erectile dysfunction, verified by a doctor, when the witness had sworn the defendant had been quite, um, pointed. “Set up a meeting with Abel,” Kim finished. “I’m busy until tomorrow.”
“He’s here now.”
Before Kim could answer, Abel Kane pushed around the door and strode into the office. Kim had always thought him good-looking—tall, blond, well-dressed—but he was a lightweight compared to Liam. And there was no comparison at all in the sex department.
“Can’t this wait?” Kim asked him.
Abel was looking at Liam in curiosity. “Kind of in a rush.”
Liar. He couldn’t be paid to care about indecent-exposure cases; he’d used the excuse to come in here and eyeball Liam.
“Why?” Kim asked in an annoyed voice. “Client can’t keep his pants on?”
Abel ignored her attempt at humor. “So the Collars really do fit all Shifters. What neck size would you say he has?”