Panty Dropper (Southern Comfort #1) - Melanie Shawn Page 0,7

hand, struggling to keep it from trembling with all the hormones rushing through me. He grasped it, and it was all I could do to keep from gasping. The sensation of his warm, large, calloused fingers enveloping mine had my knees going all wobbly and my head spinning with dizzying desire.

Instead of shaking my hand like his brothers had done, he turned it until it was palm down and lifted it for a gallant kiss. His firm, soft lips pressed to my skin and my entire body exploded with tingling awareness.

I stood, speechless. The slow, easy kiss seemed to last for an eternity. Finally, he straightened and gave me a wink. “Will I see you there, tonight, too, lady lawyer?”

Lady lawyer. Normally, I’d be offended at the female distinction. I was a lawyer, not a lady lawyer. Just like women were bosses, not girl bosses. But somehow coming from Billy Comfort it sounded like audible foreplay. Or at least that’s how my lust-ridden brain was interpreting it.

What was happening to me? It wasn’t like me to be swayed by pretty words, not that they were particularly pretty. If anything, they fell on the side of condescending, but that was not how my body was taking them.

Maybe I actually was having a nervous breakdown triggered by an infusion of arousal.

I cleared my throat and reluctantly tugged my hand out of his. “My name is Reagan. Reagan York.”

“Reagan,” he repeated as his lips curled in the half-grin that I was already looking forward to seeing again. “Sorry, ’bout that, darlin’. I hadn’t caught your name. Will I see I see you there tonight, Reagan? Reagan York.”

I opened my mouth to say, “No, but thank you for the invitation,” and was as shocked as I could be to hear the word, “Maybe,” come out in a breathless sigh.

Maybe?

Okay, now I knew something was wrong. I was decisive. If I didn’t want to do something, I didn’t, and I never made apologies for it. On the flipside, if I wanted to do something, I did it.

And I didn’t want to do this…did I?

“Maybe, huh?” His grin widened and he winked. “I’ll take it.”

There were a million reasons why I shouldn’t go. This was a small town, and Nadia had made it clear that there were unwritten rules and that I needed to be careful, working for Jennings Abernathy.

She hadn’t gone into detail about what those rules were, but I certainly didn’t want to step in it on my first day. I still had small-town PTSD from living in a tiny Alabama town until I was eight. I remembered all too well just how ruthless and devastating the gossip could be.

I was new to this firm, and since I’d spent the past five years working for partners that I knew I’d never get any sort of recommendation from—because one of them was supposed to be my future father-in-law—the last thing I needed to do was mess this up. That alone was a good enough reason to stay away.

When I took into account the way this man affected me on a visceral level, though… Well, then I knew I should stay away.

Billy, totally unaware of the inner turmoil his invitation had caused in me, sauntered out of the conference room like he didn’t have a care in the world, and I kept my eyes steadfastly forward.

Do not look at his ass. Do not look at his ass. Do not look at his ass, I chanted inside my head.

I was almost successful. But in the end, I couldn’t help but steal one small peek as he rounded the corner to head off down the hall, and I was not disappointed.

“Thank you.”

I heard a soft voice, snapping me back to reality, and I turned to Cheyenne.

“I was really nervous about today, and you being here made it so much easier.”

“Of course. That’s my job. You didn’t mention that your brothers…” I trailed off as I thought about how to word it. “Didn’t know you’d be here,” I finished.

Color sprang up on her cheeks. “I wasn’t sure what to expect and I didn’t know how to explain it.”

I flashed her a grin. “Understandable.”

“Do you have a minute? To talk privately?”

I looked around the conference room. We were the only two people there but apparently she was looking for even more privacy. “Sure. Why don’t we go to my office?”

As we walked down the corridor, Daisy approached us, coming out of the break room. “Oh, is the meeting over?”

“Yes.” I

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