Blue Moon Brides Boxed Set by Anne Marsh

Author:Anne Marsh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Fantasy, Shape Shifters, Paranormal
Publisher: Anne Marsh
Published: 2015-10-11T00:00:00+00:00

GIANNA

“Hold my dress?” No. Wait. I need to stop talking, need to re-exert control over the situation, but being around Cruz short-circuits my brain like always. His too-sexy orders have to be the reason why I’m parroting stupid questions and letting him undress me in a courthouse stairwell. Where anyone—up to and including my bosses and fellow attorneys—can see us.

Cruz doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t stop his slow, inexorable upward tug of my hemline. Cool air hits first my thighs and then higher as my dress brushes my panties. “I don’ wan’ to crease such a pretty thing. I like your dress.”

I’m dressed for work in a white sheath with a fitted navy blue blazer. That I spent too much money on my outfit only makes me feel more confident. Look at me, my clothes say. I’m successful. I’m confident. I can afford this. In the courtroom, no one questions my judgment and I one hundred percent belong. But Cruz… he’s not seeing the lawyer when he looks at me.

He sees me.

Oh. God. He has that slow, lazy smile on his face that makes me want to melt and nod in dumb agreement with whatever he asks. Up to and including reinstating our too-hasty, ill-conceived engagement. Nowhere in the fifty states is it legal for three people to get married, so I don’t even know how we’d have made it work.

Cruz, however, isn’t worried about technicalities.

He rubs a thumb over the curve of my thigh. My bare thigh. “You goin’ to do what I ask you to do?”

Hello. I’m not that far gone. I jerk, my head thumping against the wall in shocked denial as my eyes meet his. God. Wolf eyes watch me, part sensual predator, part heated smile. I definitely like the naughty gleam—which makes me wetter than I’m ever admitting to—but obedience is going to happen approximately when hell freezes over.

Cruz isn’t waiting around for an answer. Instead, he yanks my dress to my waist so that my bare butt hits the wall. The skirt is tight—partly by design and partly because I’ve yet to start that diet I’ve been meaning to start—and I’d chosen a thong, panty-lines being unprofessional and not the view I wanted to give the courtroom. If anyone walks into the stairwell now, I’ll never live it down. Public nudity may or may not be grounds for disbarment, but I have no intention of finding out.

“We need to stop,” I say, pushing at my skirt. I’m clearly not ready for Cruz’s kinky repertoire. Maybe I used up my tolerance for sexual exploration with our one-night threesome?

“You think you need to stop,” he counters, dragging his knuckles higher. His fingertips graze the edge of my panties, and that feels so, so good. “I know what I need.”

“Cruz.” Don’t whimper. Remember you’re a strong, independent woman. “We’re in public.”

Hello, Captain Obvious. I tug my hem back down.

Or try to because, damn it, Cruz isn’t budging. He just captures my fingers in one hand, stretches me

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