Confessions of a Litigation God: A Legal Affairs Full Length Erotic Novel (8 page)

And then some.

Yeah, when she
shouts out—quite loud I will say—it’s sweet music
to my ears. She loved the hell out of that but then again, so did I.

I pull away and
stand up, dragging the back of my hand over my mouth to dry it off a
bit. Mac is destroyed… her legs splayed apart, her chest
heaving, her skin red from the chest up, which is a sure sign she had
a Richter explosion. Damn… that is about the sexiest thing
I’ve ever seen, and I’m pretty confident there’s a
good chance I’m going to explode the minute I get inside of
her.

So I bite down hard
on the inside of my cheek, and focus on the pain while I unzip my
pants to free my cock. I line up, slam in, and then bite down harder
on my cheek until I swear I can taste blood. After a few moments, I
think I have it under control, at least to where I can last more than
a minute, and I start moving inside of her.

Need my mouth on
hers… need that tongue against mine.

“Need to kiss
you,” I groan after thrusting hard into her and put my lips
against hers.

“Yes,”
she pants into my mouth.

“So fucking
sexy,” I murmur in between kisses.
Oh my God. She is so
fucking sexy.

“You feel so
good,” she moans.

“Could do this
all day… all night.”

“Word,”
she sings out, and I blink at her.

Once.

Twice.

Did she just say
“word”?

I quickly put my
face down into the crook of her neck so I don’t start laughing.
Not the kill-a-hard-on type of laugh, because I’m still hard as
a rock… close to letting loose, so starting to swell a little
bigger. But the kind of laugh that is utter amusement, and it’s
a foreign feeling to me. In general, in particular.

I don’t laugh
a lot.

I never laugh during
sex.

But damn if she
didn’t just hit my funny bone, while I’m trying to fuck
her into a coma.

I find it stupidly
charming.

Time bleeds nowhere,
and I let myself get sucked into the warm cocoon of her body while I
push in and out of her sweet heat. This could become addicting, which
is a thought that terrifies me. But what if I could have her all the
time? Why would I ever want to give this up?

I can feel Mac
starting to tremble under me again, and I let loose a little bit
faster. My orgasm starts racing up my spine, and fuck… we
reach that perfect nirvana together, our bodies both stiffening in
pleasure, and then shaking in ecstasy. I have the sudden and
frivolous urge to whisper her name in reverence, but I keep my lips
sealed tight. That would just be ludicrous.

We lay like that…
me on top of her on top of her desk, for a few minutes. We don’t
say a word.

When my heartbeat
finally gets back under control, I ease out of her and hold a hand
out so I can pull her up. She gingerly slides off the desk and looks
at my semen dripping down the inside of her legs. The sight of it is
erotic and makes me want to beat my hands on my chest for some
reason.

I reach for a box of
tissues I threw down to the floor and take several out. Squatting
down, I gently wipe the evidence of our lust from her legs, while one
of her hands softly rests on my shoulder. It’s an intimate move
on my part, and not something I’ve ever done for a woman
before.

It makes me feel
uneasy, so I stand back up and hastily throw the tissues in the
garbage.

Stuffing myself back
in my jeans, I zip up as I watch her. She stands there naked, the
faint blush of orgasm still marking her chest and neck, her hair
tangled and wild. She looks so fucking beautiful that my heart
squeezes painfully.

Painfully because I
can’t have her. I’m her boss. More importantly, I am not
monogamous. Made a pact to myself on the day my divorce became final
that I wasn’t ever going to commit to anyone again.

“This was
wrong, McKayla,” I tell her quietly, but she hears the
conviction in my voice. “It was my fault, and I won’t let
it happen again.”

I turn around and
head for the door, needing to put physical distance between us.

Mac grabs my wrist.
“Wait a minute. I don’t understand.”

Turning on her, I
stare at her hold on my wrist and she lets go.

“What’s
to understand?” I ask her with frustration. “This is
wrong… I’m your boss.”

“It’s
only wrong if the sex influences how you treat me,” she says
reasonably.

“And what if I
treat you like shit because it makes me angry to have this attraction
to you? What if I give you the shittiest cases, and I mock you in
front of your colleagues?”

She shoots me a huge
grin, her eyes lighting up, and she has not a moment of embarrassment
that she’s stark-ass naked. “Then I’ll sue you for
sexual harassment.”

Not fucking funny
and reiterates why this was such a bad idea. Taking a step toward
her, vibrating with anger, I tell her, “I’d chew you up
and spit you out, little girl. You’d never be a match for me in
court.”

Taking a step back,
I run my hand through my hair. “Besides, you just proved my
point. This is sexual harassment at its finest. I’d be stupid
to let this carry on.”

“Matt…
I would never hold something like that over your head, and you’ll
have to trust me on that. I bet we could make this work. I’m
sure once you got to know me better—”

Narrowing my eyes, I
hold up my hand to cut her off. “See, that’s just it,
McKayla. I don’t want to get to know you. This was a fuck…
pure and simple. I’m not looking for anything more than that.
But it’s out of my system now, and I’d appreciate it if
we could just forget this happened.”

“Ouch,”
she says quietly, and I feel like a douche because I know that hurt.

“I think with
my dick, McKayla… not with my heart. It serves me well.”

“Well, I have
to say your dick is the most pleasant thing about you,” she
says sarcastically in a honey-coated voice, and I have to bite down
on my cheek again not to laugh.

I’m pissed at
this whole situation, but she makes me want to laugh. That’s
fucked up.

McKayla sighs with
resolve. “I understand, and you’re right. This has
disaster written all over it. I’ll let it go.”

“I’m
really sorry, McKayla,” I tell her and deep down inside,
something squeezes in regret. I choose to ignore it.

“Sure. Another
place, another time, we’d have been perfect for each other,
right?”

This causes the
regretful pain to become more focused… exquisite. I don’t
like that feeling at all. It reminds me of hurts that I’ve felt
before, and I’m through experiencing that shit.

I need to push her
away.

Far, far away.

“Wrong,”
I tell her firmly. “I don’t do relationships, and you
deserve more than that. It would only ever be a fuck. In fact, I’ll
be hitting up
One Night Only
soon.”

“I don’t
have any further questions. Thank you, Mr. Lancaster, for your time.”
Turning to the court reporter, I add, “We’re off the
record.”

I push back from the
huge conference room table that could probably seat fifty people. We
are in a massive steel and glass tower that dwarfs many of the other
buildings in downtown Chicago, and I take a moment to appreciate the
surrounding cityscape as I look out the window and to the setting
sun.

That was the fifth
deposition, and while they went about as well as could be expected, I
am utterly exhausted. It was a mistake to bring Mac. I know I
promised her she could come, but it’s stressful trying to
concentrate on this case and stop my mind from constantly thinking
about her.

I was a massive ball
of nerves yesterday when we flew out of JFK. I had been sitting
there, waiting for Mac before our flight began to board, trying to
read the newspaper. I say “trying” because I couldn’t
concentrate. Looking at my watch every five minutes, scanning the
crowd… waiting for that first glimpse of her.

And then there she
was, and my heart slammed hard against my chest wall in response. She
had her hair down in soft waves, hanging over her breasts. She was
wearing a classic black suit with a French-blue, man-styled shirt
underneath. Her skirt was tasteful in length, hitting at her knee,
but her heels were sky high and gave enough sexy glamour that I
didn’t fail to notice every other man in a thirty-foot vicinity
checking her out.

The fact that she
was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her, and that other men
were looking at her too, put me in a pissy mood right off the bat.

So, when she sat
down beside me and her skirt rode up a few inches, causing my eyes to
involuntarily check out her exposed skin, which, in turn, made my
fingers itch to touch her, I was not in a good mood. She cordially
asked how my weekend was, and I laced so much innuendo in my answer
that she knew what I meant.

“I had an
amazing weekend. One of the best ever.”

I saw it in her eyes
the minute I released those words. She took it as truth that I had a
One Night Only
date, and she was hurt.

And that bothered
me, which pissed me off even more.

I wasn’t sure
what I expected her to do. Turn away in a huff, start crying, slap
me?

She didn’t do
any of that. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at me and gave me back a
swift metaphorical punch to my nuts. “What a coincidence. Me
too. Gotta love that
One Night Only.
”

Remember when I
wanted to leap on her the other day, push her to the floor, and fuck
the silliness out of her? Yeah, well, I wanted to do that again.
Except this time, I wanted to fuck the truth out of her. Did she
really sleep with someone else this weekend? The thought had my blood
boiling and fuck if that was not a bit of nausea I felt rising as
well.

But being a man, and
seeing as how men are probably at least ten years emotionally less
mature than women at most times, I replied, “Definitely love
it. Although, they should rename it
Two Nights Only
. It was
that
good
of a weekend.”

Mac stared at me
blankly for a moment, and then I saw it as clear as day. Hurt
filtered back into those gorgeous green eyes. Yeah, I just hurt her
again with that comment, but a bolt of joy coursed through me.

If I hurt her with
the belief I was truly with someone this weekend, then there was no
way she went back to ONO. No fucking way. Mac wasn’t the type
to give it up to two men. She had monogamy written all over that
beautiful face.

The flight was
awkward, sitting beside her. Smelling her shampoo, listening to the
way she breathed. I felt almost claustrophobic. When we touched down
in Chicago, I couldn’t get off the plane fast enough.

Luckily, the rest of
the day was spent with my mind engaged on the depositions. By the
congratulatory slaps on my back just now from my co-counsel, it’s
confirmed that today was a win for us. I got some stunning
information out of these witnesses that would immensely bolster our
case. I don’t expect tomorrow will be as easy, now that the
defense attorneys got a gander at me. No, they’ll stay up all
night preparing tomorrow’s witnesses so they can withstand my
brutal charm.

Well, it’s
really a subversive assault to mine secretive information, but I do
it with a hell of a lot of charm so it’s not clear I’m
taking advantage of them.

I look over at Mac
and she’s flipping through what I believe is her fourth yellow
pad of notes she has taken. She did an impressive job today, taking
such copious but detailed notes that she allowed me to fully
concentrate on the conversation I was having. I say conversation,
because a truly effective lawyer has a two-way engagement of words
with the deponent. Depositions are not to attack and not to belittle.
They are to gather information… and the best way to do that is
to really listen to what the other person is saying. Yes, I ask the
question, but it’s a big, open-ended question, and all I really
need to do is sit back and just listen. Choose those things that
interest me, and follow up.

See, it’s just
a simple conversation. Just because a court reporter is taking
everything down word for word, who will later type a transcript I
will have, and will later use to slap the witness stupid on the stand
when they lie to me… well, that’s just their problem
they trusted me with their dirty laundry in the first place.

“You did a
good job,” I tell Mac, and she looks at me in surprise. It’s
probably five of a total of ten words I’ve said to her since we
started. She just smiles at me and gives me a quiet “thank you”
in return.

I stand up from the
table and make small talk with my other counsel. There are a total of
five plaintiffs in this lawsuit and one lawyer from each victim is in
attendance. I’ve been appointed lead counsel, which means I’m
the only one asking questions today, while the other lawyers sit
around and look pretty. Well, of course, Mac looks pretty—stunning
really—but she was hard at work right alongside me. I don’t
know how many times I had to take a break to go over her notes so I
could make sure I heard something right. She really has been
invaluable.

We all decide to
head back to the hotel, which is just a few blocks away, and have
dinner there. I’m all prepared for tomorrow’s round so
I’m looking forward to a good meal, a few drinks, and an early
night to bed. I haven’t been sleeping well for some reason.

Well, one reason.

***

Dinner is a fiasco.
There are six of us, with Mac being the only female sitting around a
table of egotistical, testosterone driven lawyers liquored up and
riding high on a victory today. Some of them try to include her in
the conversation and, while she’s talking to someone, the
others will stare at her breasts.

Can’t say as I
blame them. She changed into a dark blue dress that wraps around and
fits her form perfectly. It’s cut tastefully low, showing a
good bit of smooth skin at her chest but not revealing much more than
a shadow of her cleavage. It’s sexier than seeing part of her
boobs, wondering what’s underneath there.