Free Evaline and Andrew face the authorities. Hi Quality Porn Pics

Dinner and a show.

Because it's not really broken? If it isn't, what are you going to do with it?" Her pulse raced. "To blackmail me? You could say that it's not damaged and use that information to your advantage."

Lines formed around Kohl's mouth. "You wouldn't have said that unless you thought it had already crossed my mind. It hasn't. There's taking what's offered, then there's just plain taking."

"Says the thief," she muttered, instantly regretting it. Kohl grabbed her leg under the table and squeezed so hard she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. His dark eyes bore into her with contempt.

"Says the whore. Face it, Harper: I wouldn't need to blackmail you." His hand slid up her thigh, fingers brushing the hem of her dress. "I could drag you out of here by the hair and fuck you up against the side of the building, and all I'd hear from you are moans." His grip tightened, as if daring her to disagree.

She couldn't. She was too busy fighting against the vision he'd pushed into her head and trying not to beg him to slide his hand higher. He read the question on her face anyway and his expression shone with triumph before he released her. As she worked to steady her breathing, Kohl dug something out of one of the many pockets on his jacket and tossed it on the table. The memory card.

Harper leaned forward and saw that it really was broken, the two halves barely holding onto each other. It would take nothing to snap them apart and she did just that, holding the pieces in her hand. She felt a flash of guilt but knew an apology would be met with condescension.

Silence descended on their table, sliced through with tension. Harper finished her wine and the waiter appeared seconds later to refill it, making her wonder if he'd lingered nearby, eavesdropping. She chugged half of it to calm her nerves, pretending not to notice Kohl's scowl of disapproval. What kind of man didn't want to ply their date with wine to lower their inhibitions? The kind that knows their date doesn't need her inhibitions lowered, Harper realized with self-deprecation, ignoring the fact that she'd thought of herself as his date. If anything, she was his prey. The unwitting opponent in a game he was playing for his own satisfaction.

"Aren't you going to ask your other questions?" Kohl mused after a while.

Harper nodded. "Why did you put everything back?"

"Because I didn't want you to have to answer your husband's questions. I didn't want him looking around the bedroom and seeing something he shouldn't."

Harper took another swig of wine. "What do you care?" Surely he didn't give a shit about her marriage.

Kohl's palms flattened on the table. "You have a better reason than most to see me as a sack of shit. I am, in most ways. And maybe my answer will only fuel that fire." He reached over, the pad of his thumb brushing from her cheek to the corner of her mouth. "I want to fuck you again, Harper, and that will be easier to do if no one's looking our way."

Her mouth was instantly dry, as if all the moisture in her body had fled south. The surge of arousal made her dizzy-or maybe it was the alcohol-and she couldn't form words. She didn't know what to say anyway, and Kohl wasn't looking for a verbal response. He plucked one of her arms from the table and dragged her hand down to his crotch.

Harper stifled a gasp when he forced her to rub his erection. She wanted to slide her hand down his pants, work him right there in the restaurant, but he pushed her away after just a few seconds of contact.

He'd gotten his answer. Harper waited for his look of superiority but saw only raw desire on his face. His jaw was tight, eyes hooded, and his gaze moved to her breasts. The force of it was so heavy, she could almost feel it raking down her skin.

The moment was ruined when the waiter arrived with their food.