Charity Case: The Complete Series

by Piper Rayne

  I press my lips to his. “Why don’t you sit in your chair and let me get to work.” I wink, and he licks his lips, his mouth opening a sliver.

  I take his hand, leading him to the opposite side of his desk and push him down into his chair. He falls with a pft to the leather chair and I drop to my knees in front of him.

  “Vic,” he says in practically a moan.

  His dick already tents his slacks. I love the effect I have on him. Keeping my eyes on him, I unbuckle his belt, unbutton his pants and slowly lower the zipper until his black boxer briefs appear, a welcoming bulge front and center.

  I lift the waistband of his boxers, peeking in to see the head of his cock pulsing and ready for my mouth.

  Reed’s arm stretches toward his desk and I hear him hit something that causes a beep to sound.

  “Yes, Mr. Warner,” his assistant asks through the intercom.

  “No interruptions unless it’s the” —I take him in my mouth—“verdict.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The octave change in his voice probably clued her in to why he’s asking for no interruptions with his girlfriend in the room. Do I care? Nope.

  Pushing him as far down my throat as possible, his hands tighten in my hair. Wrapping the strands through his fingers, he bucks up. I dig my hand down to play with his balls and his head falls back against his chair, his eyes unable to stay open.

  I work him, slowly, to allow him the most pleasure he can get before we have to return to reality. Twisting and swallowing, licking and twirling, Reed groans when I pump him at the base.

  “Victoria,” my name a plea on his lips. “Don’t stop. You’re so fucking good at it.”

  His words only spur me on more and I move faster, wanting him to experience the ecstasy he gives me.

  He bucks again and stills, his cum squirting into my mouth and I wait patiently until he’s completely spent. Licking him clean, I pull up his boxers and stare up at him.

  “I’ll never wait for another jury without you again.”

  I smile and rise to my feet.

  Not bothering to zip up his pants, he swivels his chair and positions me on the edge of his desk.

  “My turn,” he says, licking his lips.

  I shake my head. “No, that was my gift to you.”

  He hoists me up on the desk, directing one leg to the armrest on one side of him and the other to the armrest on the opposite side. His head slides up under the fabric of my dress. “Your panties are already soaked,” he observes, and I laugh.

  “Wouldn’t you be hard if roles were reversed?”

  “Baby, I’m already hard again.”

  I giggle leaning back on my elbows.

  He slides one finger up the inside of my thigh and I open my legs wider. Just as he slides it underneath my panties, a buzzing sound shakes the desk underneath me.

  “Please tell me that’s a vibrator?”

  “Afraid not, babe.” He sits up and grabs his phone. “Warner,” he answers, holding his hand out to help me up. “Be right there.”

  He stands, tucks himself completely in, zips, buttons, and buckles himself back into the GQ man I’m used to seeing.

  “Relax,” I say, pressing my lips to his.

  He smiles, but I know he’s worried.

  “They came back in record time, which means they were sure about their decision. Let’s hope I did my job well enough.” He pushes a hand through his hair and blows out a long breath. “Listen.” He helps me off the desk and I slip on my heels. “You’re to leave this office and go downstairs. Talk on your phone or pretend you are. When you see me walking down the hall, you are to ignore me. Act like you have no idea who I am.”

  “Why?” I smooth the front of my skirt to try to work out a wrinkle that’s formed from our shenanigans.

  “Because no one else needs to know who you are.”

  “Okay,” I say offended, but whatever. I ignored the fact that he told me not to wait for him after closing arguments and that his assistant would let me into his office. Now I can’t even walk downstairs with him?

  “It’s for your own safety.” He kisses my forehead. “I put away bad people. People who have friends who might want revenge. I’d feel better if no one outside of this office knew you were my girlfriend.”

  I smack a smile on my face like I’m not freaked out.

  “Afterward, just head back to your office and I’ll call you when things calm down.”

  “Okay.”

  “Thanks.” He winks. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  He puts me at ease as I leave his office, his secretary’s knowing eyes on me.

  I head to the elevator bank, go down and I’m about to call Chelsea when I walk toward the courtroom, but I tuck my phone back in my purse finding Pete leaning against the wall.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He smirks. “I wanted to see our boy. See if he wins. It’s a big case.”

  “I thought you were headed back to Los Angeles?”

  “I decided to stay the week. Jade can’t stop talking about this carnival thing on Saturday. She invited me over to your house for cake tomorrow since it’s her actual birthday.”

  “That’s not part of the deal.”

  “What deal?”

  “You need to okay these things with me.” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “You always were cute when you were mad.” He laughs at me.

  The press lingers around the doors probably waiting for Reed or the defender to make a statement about which way they expect things to go.

  “I’m not joking this time, Pete.”

  “Neither am I. I disappoint her enough with not being around. One more week isn’t going to kill you.” He tucks his phone into his pants pocket.

  “Aren’t you itching with not being in a suit at a courthouse?” I ask.

  “No, but I forgot how much I love Chicago.”

  The heels of the press descend down the hallway. Reporters with microphones out and cameras already zoomed in.

  Reed exits the elevator and you’d never guess he just received a blow job upstairs. His briefcase is in his hands, his lips straight, expression intense as he nods a few times at the people yelling out questions to him. He answers a few but never slows his pace on the way to the courtroom.

  He passes by me, a fleeting glance in my direction and I question if he even saw me. If it wasn’t for the quick scowl I saw cross his face I’d say no.

  “Your boy isn’t happy.” Pete pushes himself off the wall to follow the group in.

  “Why do you say that?” I rush to keep up with him.

  “You really are piss-poor at reading non-verbal clues.” He shakes his head like this is a disappointment to him.

  “What did I miss?” I ask while I push past the heavy courtroom doors.

  “His hand tightened on his briefcase. His eyes stayed on yours a beat longer than they should have. His one look to me had the threat of physical harm in it.”

  “You got all that in the split second he walked by us?”

  He laughs and stands outside one of the rows, motioning for me to go in first. Following behind, he sits next to me, thigh to thigh.

  “He told you not to act like you knew him?” Pete whispers.

  “It’s none of your business.” I wish Pete would stop asking questions about Reed and me.

  “Good boy. Glad to know that all his bullshit about being on the good side of things, didn’t make him naive.”

  “Okay, you can stop talking now.” I roll my eyes.

  “If he’s going to be a permanent fixture in your life, I have to make sure he can protect you both.”

  “I can protect us. Me. I’ve done a good job of it for the last seven years.”

  His hand pats my knee and I slide it over, so it drops off. “Relax, you’re drawing attention to yourself.”

  I scowl in his direction just as the judge enters the courtroom. Everyone stands, Reed glancing over his shoulder to spot Pete and me.
There’s no recognition or emotion in his gaze.

  “You may be seated,” the judge says and we all sit down.

  “Your boy is threatened by me. Funny. You divorced me,” Pete continues to talk even though I ignore him.

  The head juror hands a piece of paper to the sheriff who hands it to the judge. She reads it and my focus is on Reed. He’s sitting straight, his arms resting on the table, waiting for the verdict. The defendant stands.

  “Here’s the big moment,” Pete whispers and I elbow him in the ribcage.

  “We the jury find the defendant…guilty.”

  The juror continues talking but I watch as the tension leaves Reed’s shoulders. He glances to his partner who helped him, and they share a satisfied look.

  A few people on the defendant’s side cry out and the judge bangs his gavel to get everyone under control. The defendant’s head falls into his hands as he weeps. It’s all very dramatic and it isn’t until a woman on the other side tries to jump the separation to stop them from taking the defendant away that I understand why Reed was so adamant about not letting anyone here know we’re together.

  Once it’s all said and done, Pete and I stand.

  “Well, now your boy has his pick of DA offices in the country.”

  I glance back to see Reed’s gaze on me as I leave the courtroom with Pete. I want to raise my hand, but I follow his instructions and tuck my head down, leaving without acknowledging him.

  “What are you talking about? And would you please call him by his name instead of ‘my boy,’ it’s getting old.”

  Pete follows me outside. Like Mother Earth knew it’d be a day to celebrate, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and people are littered across the courtyard enjoying the weather, ignorant to what just happened in that courtroom.

  “You think after winning this case, he’s going to stay an assistant district attorney, emphasis on ‘assistant?’”

  “He doesn’t want to go into the private sector. Not everyone is a money grubber.”

  “That money grubber supports our daughter. Well, I may add.” He lights up a cigarette.

  “Fifteen feet rule,” I singsong and he takes a few giant steps away from the front doors.

  That’s the difference. Reed follows the rules while Pete disregards them.

  “People are going to want him, Vic, he won’t be in Chicago long.” He pats me on my back, smoking his cigarette and heads to a taxi. “See you tomorrow night.”

  He flicks the cigarette to his side and a woman screams at him since it almost hit her. He ignores her and gets into the cab probably instructing the driver to run her over.

  Why is Pete always like the cloud on an otherwise beautiful day?

  Chapter Thirty

  Hannah has been so understanding. Needing a day to regroup, I took off Jade’s birthday because not only do I have to make her the grumpy cat cake she requested, but I’m just not in the mood to deal with people. Especially after Pete’s comment about Reed not staying in Chicago. It’s been eating at me since the words left his lips.

  “This is cute.” My mom comes in and sits on the breakfast stool, turning the picture and directions toward her.

  “I’m pretty sure Moe is her inspiration.”

  “He is a grump.”

  “You think?”

  She watches me for a few minutes, as I add the eggs and oil into the box mix and whisk it together.

  “How are things with Reed?” she asks.

  The doorbell rings and I crinkle my eyebrows at my mom. Neither of us are expecting anyone and I swear if it’s Pete, my mom might drop kick him on the spot.

  She walks to the door and opens it.

  “You must be Mama Clarke.”

  Chelsea.

  “Chelsea, right?” My mom laughs knowing she got it right from the way I’ve described my co-worker.

  I wipe my hands on a dishcloth and walk to the doorway between the rooms, spotting Hannah there, too. They each hold colorful gift bags stuffed with tissue paper.

  “I’m Hannah.” She puts out her hand for my mom, but my mom pulls her into a hug.

  “This is an unexpected surprise,” she says to both of them. “Are those for Jade?”

  “We’re crashing the birthday shindig and just note, we’re highly offended we weren’t invited.” Chelsea points to me.

  “I didn’t think—”

  “You thought wrong. We love that girl, too.” Hannah comes to my side. “And we love you. Since when do you need a personal day?” She tilts her head. “You can’t come to us, we come to you.”

  She holds out her arms and I step into them hugging her body to mine.

  “Don’t forget me.” Chelsea runs over and the three of us are in a huddle.

  “I feel left out,” my mom jokes.

  “Come on, Mama Clarke.” Chelsea waves her hand and my mom comes over.

  By the time we all part, they look at me like they’re waiting for instructions.

  “You want to help with her cake?” I ask.

  “Not really. Do you have any wine?” Hannah asks. “Sorry, but you don’t want my help. Trust me.”

  “I’ve got wine.”

  They follow me into the kitchen, my mom playing hostess and me finishing the cakes by putting them in the oven to bake.

  “So, why the personal day?” Chelsea asks, sipping her wine.

  “I was just asking her about Reed,” my mom chimes in.

  “Something happen?” Hannah asks like she’d be heartbroken if it did.

  I wipe down the counter where I was working. “No, we’re good. It’s just that big case he won.”

  “I saw him on the news. The camera doesn’t add ten pounds to him that’s for sure.” Chelsea waggles her eyebrows my way over the rim of her wine glass.

  “Isn’t it a good thing that he won? He gets to keep his job,” Hannah jokes.

  “Or move to a different city. He’s the assistant district attorney and Pete seems to think he’ll get offers to be a district attorney and probably not in Chicago.”

  “Fuck what Pete thinks,” Chelsea says, immediately covering her mouth after and looking toward my mom. “Sorry.”

  My mom waves her off. “My sentiments exactly, Chelsea.”

  Hannah falls back to her seat. “Oh. Well, that’s not good.”

  “Have you talked to him?” my mom asks.

  I mix the frosting because I want to do anything but think of this thing between us ending before it really gets started.

  “No.”

  “Then why are you so upset? Ask the man.” My mom talks like she’s one of the girls and inside I smirk. It’s good to see her vibrant.

  My phone buzzes with a text and Chelsea slides it my way.

  “I’ll finish that.” She comes behind the mixer. “Relax, I grew up with a big family who doesn’t eat store-bought anything.”

  I smile and head down the hall for some privacy.

  Reed: What time did you want us tonight?

  Me: Whenever. I’m just making her cake and I’m going to order pizza.

  Reed: Want some help? I’m about to leave work for the day.

  I look at the time. It’s only one.

  Me: Chelsea, Hannah and my mom are here.

  Reed: So, I’d be invading girl time?

  Me: No, you can come. I have some manly stuff I need done.

  Reed: I do like when you make use of my manly skills.

  Me: I need some grab bars installed in the bath.

  Reed: Not what I had in mind, but I’ll be over soon.

  Me: Okay and I’m kidding about the grab bars.

  I head back into the kitchen, stuffing my phone in my back pocket. “I feel like the party is about to start without Jade.”

  Chelsea already has one batch of cream frosting done and she’s on to the chocolate.

  “Um, who are you? Betty Crocker?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I told you, big family.”

  “Well then, I’ll work on the fondant fa
ce.” I sip my wine. “Reed’s coming over.”

  All six eyes land on me.

  “Talk to him.” Hannah pats my hand. “No need getting upset over nothing.”

  “You’re a sensible woman,” my mom says.

  “Not when it comes to the silver fox,” Chelsea adds, and I almost spit out my wine.

  Hannah picks up a crumpled napkin and throws it at Chelsea.

  “You know it and we know it. It’s only a matter of time before you sleep with him.”

  Hannah balks, but it doesn’t escape my notice that she doesn’t argue against Chelsea’s claim.

  A bit later the doorbell rings. We’ve got the frosting made and Chelsea’s demanding she spread it, but the cakes are still cooling.

  I open the door to find him in a light sweater and dark jeans. Casual and edible.

  “Good afternoon.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out onto the porch then shuts the door. “They’re all in there, right?”

  He pushes me against the side of the house, his hands already on my cheeks, his lips millimeters away from mine.

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s why we’re out here.”

  His lips crash onto mine, his tongue sliding in through my parted lips. His knee wedges between my legs and grinds into my center. If we weren’t on the porch and I didn’t have a household of friends inside, I’d suggest a heavy make-out session in his car. Then again, Abe probably dropped him off.

  Closing the kiss, I drag oxygen back into my lungs. Luckily, he continues to hold me up before I crumble to the ground.

  “Sorry, I missed you.” He leans in and kisses my forehead.

  “Don’t be.”

  He keeps me in his arms, staring down at me with the loving look I’m slowly becoming addicted to.

  “Can we talk?” I ask.

  “I knew something was wrong.” He leads me over to the bench on my mom’s porch, my hand in his. “What’s up?”

  “The case you won. Biggest case you’ve ever had?”

  Just the mention of the case, a look of exhaustion crosses his face. “Not the hardest, but the biggest spectacle, yes. The most televised one for sure.” His hand fiddles with mine. “Why?”

  “Is there a chance you might become district attorney in Chicago?”