Lanie's Lessons (28 page)

“You liked that.” A statement of fact, considering her blatantly obvious response after so few strokes. His hand stroked over her barely pink skin, dipping down to slide over her pussy. He slid a finger inside, the abundance of her cream making a wet sound as he added a second and swirled them both around. “I liked it too, and it is definitely going on the agenda for further research, but it’s also too noisy.”

Picking up the crop, he swished it through the air to get a feel for it. “I have a crop at home that my wife says can bite like a bitch and sting like a hundred bees, she also comes so hard when I use it on her she screams loud enough to wake the neighbors. One of these days, the police are going to come knocking on my door. If I remember my physics correctly, this wider swat will diminish some of the sensation. Shall we test my theory to be sure?”

He brought the leather end down sharply on the lower curve of each buttock and repeated the strokes another half dozen times until she moaned. Changing the angle, he took aim at a new target, swatting her pussy a few times, concentrating on the plump wet sounds of pleasure, which were growing loud in the small room. She liked this too. Smart girl, she had picked out sensual implements, all except one.

“It seems pussy spanks don’t make as much noise on the skin, but those sexy whimpers and groans are loud. I’ll either have to add a gag or take you somewhere more private.”

Lanie didn’t say a word, but those whimpers and groans did indeed become loud, and Ethan grinned with delight. Moving on he picked up the next of his presents.

The loopy Johnny had three black rubber loops—thus its name—in varied lengths connected to a blue rubber wrapped handle. It was lightweight and appeared relatively harmless, but from what he’d read it was anything but. Having never used one before, he started out easy with light flicks of his wrist. There was barely a sound as the rubber met her skin. He increased the velocity of the next few blows pausing to reassess her condition between each one. True to what he’d read, very little sound, Lanie’s yelps notwithstanding.

“How does it feel?”

“It stings—a lot. I’m going to kill, Beth.”

“Nonsense. This is an excellent gift, one that will be very useful, I believe. It barely makes a sound and will easily fit into my briefcase. I’ll be able to bust your ass good, whenever you need it: pop quizzes, mid-terms, finals, and any time I catch you talking or flirting in class. He gave her another stroke, a little harder. “Or if you play hooky. I might be convinced to do some private tutoring. If so, I could quiz you on the back deck. For an added bonus, if the neighbors are having a cookout we could also test how quiet it really is.”

“You’re crazy, their deck is less than twenty yards away.”

“I’d wait until it got dark.” He gave her a much harder lash and she stood up in alarm, her hands flying to her behind.

“I’m sending it back!”

“Sorry, it’s been used. Besides,” he gently pushed her back down and rubbed at the red lines on her ass, “it’s mine now. So what do you say? Will you take my birthday licks for me from ole Johnny here?”

“Ethan, no! That’s forty-two strokes!”

He patted her butt reassuringly. “I’m teasing beautiful girl. So… where were we? Ah, yes… punishment for breaking into my office and stripping down naked should be severe. I could have sent a student in for a book, or the custodian could have come for the trash. It was a very risky play with your reputation, my girl, not to mention mine. I wouldn’t want you to be caught and have to explain why you were naked and hiding beneath my desk.” He lightly tapped the loops against her. “Five more with the loop and we’ll be done here, I think.”

“If I take ten will you give me a C?”

“No, but I’ll happily give you twenty and call your father.”

Naughty Miss Langston growled in mock outrage, which made him grin. She was very good at this indeed. “Get ready for your five. You will count them.”

A barely perceptible whoosh preceded the next blow.

“Two, sir,” came out as a yelp.

“No, dear, you skipped one.”

“You already gave me a lick from that Jacked Up Johnny, sir. Count the welts and I’m sure you’ll find two sets.”

As often happened her sass landed her in deeper trouble, and her humor was sharp and sometimes biting. Ethan often found himself holding back laughter or biting his tongue. Case in point… Jacked Up Johnny

“I’ll yield you the first stroke, though it was before I said five.”

“How generous of you, Professor.”

Two more in quick succession. “Ouch, three and four, sir. Not so fast.”

“No one likes a smart ass, Lanie.” He contained a laugh when she snorted.

“My ass is what’s smarting, sir. Can we finish?”

He let the loops sail and the final blow, harder than the others had her gasping for air and dancing in place, her hands furiously rubbing her bottom.

As his arms encircled her, he brushed them away and took over caressing the warm skin and soothing the sting. “Does that feel better?”

“Yes, the rubbing feels good.”

“Was it worse than the cane?”

She thought about that for a second and shook her head. “The cane is still the mother of all implements, but Johnny the SOB is a close second.”

“We’ll reserve both for extreme infractions. Bend over again and let me inspect the results.”

As she complied, he saw light pink loop marks all over her butt. None were raised and there was no sign of bruising. Crouching behind her, he ran his tongue along each mark, soothing and calming her heated skin. When he had tasted each one, he parted her thighs and spread her pussy with his thumbs. He gazed hungrily at the glistening treasure before him, before he swooped in and licking every square inch. When she was moaning and squirming atop his desk and his cock was near ready to explode, he stood and sank into her.

At the first plunge he was consumed by her tight heat. Then he began to fuck her. She rocked back against him, meeting his hips with each stroke and begging him to move harder and faster. Always one to oblige, he picked up speed, driving deep until the slap of their skin echoed loudly in the room.

His orgasm overtook him quickly, and thrusting hard once more, he came with a hot blast while she cried out her own release. As he lay over her back, realizing they had made no attempt to be quiet, his eyes sought the wall clock. It was after five. Most everyone would have left and hopefully missed the very recognizable sex noises coming from Professor Fischer’s main corridor office. Hell, at least he hoped so. Sex with Lanie was louder by far than any of his other birthday gifts.

Too content to worry, he spread kisses along her cheek until she angled her head enough to reach her lips. “This is one birthday I’m not likely to forget, sweetheart. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Did I do enough to make the grade, professor?”

“Most assuredly. A naked co-ed blowjob, naughty presents, spankings and a sound fucking over my desk… What more could I ask for?”

“I’m glad you liked it. When you list it all out like that, it sounds like a porn movie plot. I’ve got the perfect title for it too.”

“What’s that?” He asked as he eased out of her and helped her stand. She turned in his arms and beamed up at him.

“The Naughty Professor, what else?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Sidebar, your honor?”

Judge Vandermeer glanced up from his writing and motioned them forward. Lanie approached the bench and was joined by Joel Simpson, who she didn’t bother to acknowledge. From the corner of her eye, she saw he was sweating. Hiding a smirk, she could tell that he knew, just as she did, that his case was full of more holes than Swiss cheese. The question was whether he knew when it was time to bow out gracefully.

“Ms. Fischer?” the judge prompted, covering the microphone with his hand.

“I’m ready to move for dismissal, your honor. In the interest of fairness, I wanted to give my esteemed—” She choked over the word, stopping to clear her throat delicately. “Excuse me. I’d like to give my esteemed colleague the opportunity to save face and drop the charges.”

“Mr. Simpson,” the judge said, eying the Assistant D.A. over the rim of his reading glasses. “I think Ms. Fischer’s kind offer makes sense in light of Ms. Masterson’s testimony.”

“But your honor,” the younger man protested. Even though he had to be pushing thirty, his nervous voice squeaked like an adolescent as he spoke. “I have another very strong witness who has yet to testify.”

“Simon’s secretary? Please. Don’t waste the court’s time.” Lanie finally deigned to look at him. Unsurprisingly, he seemed ready to wet his pants. He was in way over his head and Lanie had been systematically turning the screws. Giving him her patented look of icy disdain, she began to illustrate how very weak his witness would appear after she was done with her.

“She’s sleeping with him, Joel. If she loses her sugar daddy to jail, she loses her apartment, her cushy job, her A-list lifestyle. She is hardly credible and I can bring a parade of witnesses to undermine her testimony.” Changing her tactic, she inched closer to him, her face taking on a more sympathetic air.

“I imagine this case is very tempting to a new attorney, a David and Goliath type of matchup, one of those rare opportunities that can launch an attorney’s career. But this is a make or break situation, Joel. Scoring a conviction in a high profile corporate case would certainly get your name out in the business world and be a nice stepping off point in your young career.” Lanie paused briefly for effect. “But have you considered the flip side? What happens when it gets out that the DA’s office made an innocent woman, a loyal employee for sixteen years without so much as a traffic ticket on her record, stand trial based on flimsy evidence, embarrassingly unreliable witnesses, and the testimony of her disreputable employer, a man with a rapidly growing reputation for being a misogynistic bully. It’s nothing short of career suicide.” Her eyes cut to Trudy, the accused, and Joel’s followed. “Poor woman, she’s a wreck. When I put her on the stand, she’s going to crumble. Probably cry buckets and we’ll have to take several breaks for her to compose herself. The jury’s going to love her, Joel. She’s very sympathetic.”

Lanie watched as opposing counsel took out a linen handkerchief and mopped his sweaty brow. Her sign that it was time for the final blow the coup de grace. “Her husband passed suddenly a few months ago. Cancer. She is the sole support of her three kids.”

She saw his eyes light up and Lanie knew the idiot hadn’t done his research, let alone gone through the discovery documents. If he had, he wouldn’t have banked solely on Trudy’s family situation as a motive. Lanie stopped toying with him, deciding to end it right then and there. She turned to the judge and said, as if in passing, “Good thing he had a hefty life insurance policy.”

The judge, a shrewd old litigator himself, smiled at her, perceptively catching on to her ploy. And wouldn’t you know, the sly old fox couldn’t resist joining in on her game. “Two million dollars, wasn’t it?” He asked, tongue in cheek. “I think I saw that in the brief. It will set her and her kids up for life. Don’t you think, Simpson?”

If a human could deflate, Joel Simpson did that in front of her eyes. Lanie half-expected him to collapse at her feet.

“When it comes to making or breaking careers, this falls under the ‘breaking’ category, Joel. Have you wondered how this case fell into your lap? You’re new in the DA’s office. If it was a slam dunk, don’t you think one of the senior attorneys would have scooped it up?”

His raised brows told her he hadn’t considered it. Naïve putz.

“No one is going to believe Trudy Blakely embezzled that money after recently coming into ten times that amount. Plus, I’ve given you incontrovertible proof of who the real guilty party is. You can still walk away and save face. Think about it. Do you really want to put your good name on the line for the likes of Walt Simons?”

Lanie and the judge stared at him, silently willing him to do the right thing. His eyes darted from her to Judge Vandermeer.

“She knows what she’s talking about, Counselor. Consider this a difficult, but much needed lesson in reality from the Ice Queen.”

“Your honor!”

The older man’s eyes twinkled as he chuckled, then he motioned them back.

“Mr. Simpson, call your next witness.”

With a swathe of red staining his cheeks, Simpson rose and addressed the court. “In light of the evidence presented by the defense, the state would like to drop all charges.”

A whoop of excitement erupted behind Lanie, who turned to look at her client, whose face was already damp with tears of relief. Trudy jumped out of her seat and hugged Lanie’s shoulders. As the judge banged his gavel and stood to leave, their eyes met one more time. He inclined his head at her, a true compliment, before he swept out of the courtroom.

* * *

The smell of coffee tickled her nose and dragged her from a twilight sleep. Lanie stretched and rolled over, reaching for Ethan. Her hand fell on his empty side of the bed. Lifting her head, she blinked the last remainders of sleep from her eyes and squinted at the clock. 10:03 a.m. She’d slept in. Throwing back the covers, she rushed to the bathroom.

She had the shower running and was ready to step in when it came to her. It was Saturday. Sheesh! Did she need a vacation or what? She shut off the water and pulled on her robe, then went in search of Ethan.

Her destination was the kitchen and the heavenly scent of coffee and cinnamon. Ethan was standing at the stove in lounge pants and nothing else. His hair still tousled from sleep.

He looked up as she entered. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning.” She walked up to him and slipped her arms around his waist. “Mmmm, French toast, what’s the occasion?”

He twisted and kissed her quickly. “Have a seat. We’ll eat while we discuss it.” He reached for two plates and flipped the toast out, sprinkling each with powdered sugar. “Grab the juice will you, Lanie?”

He had strawberries, washed and capped, and bacon as well. She moved in slow motion still groggy from sleep. Noting his grin, her lips curved in return. She couldn’t help it; his smiles were beautiful and infectious. Arching a brow in question, she asked. “What’s up? You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”