by M. S. Parker
Continues in Unlawful Attraction Vol. 2
Unlawful Attraction Vol. 2
Chapter 1
Dena
The words kept blurring in front of my eyes, and when the words weren’t outright blurring together, my thoughts were drifting away.
None of it was adding up to a productive morning. And it sure as hell hadn't been a productive weekend.
I never should have gone to Club Privé.
Every time I started to make a little bit of progress on the background report and various witness statements I was supposed to be working on, my mind would take a little sideways trip and there I was, standing up on the VIP level, Gavin talking about...whatever he’d been talking about while I watched Arik leading the Sub down the hall to the private rooms in the back.
Even though I hadn’t actually seen him take her inside one of the rooms, I might as well have. My imagination took over from there, and I could see the two of them as he closed the door behind him, walked around her, pacing the perimeter of the room, considering what he wanted to do before turning to look at her.
He’d do the same thing he’d done with me, let her go first, establish the ground rules, smiling at that pretty young thing while watching her and planning just what he’d do to her. For her.
Something twisted inside me and it took me a moment to realize what it was.
Envy.
I had no reason to be jealous. He wasn’t mine. We’d had sex. Once. That was it.
It had been amazing sex, and yeah, I’d loved to hook up with him again, but I had no reason to be sitting behind my desk feeling like I’d caught my boyfriend cheating on me. I had no reason to spend the weekend lounging on my couch, watching shows I wasn't really seeing.
There was no reason to feel hurt or disappointed...cheated.
But she couldn’t give him what he needed.
Arik could give her what she needed.
For a night.
But I knew the woman I’d seen him with.
Her name was Sabrina, and as sweet as she was, she was a hardcore submissive and with her, it didn’t stop at the bedroom door.
We only knew each other casually, but Sabrina was a submissive through and through. The man who'd been her Dom for over a year had just ended their relationship, and she was already trying to find somebody to replace him.
She was barely functional outside a serious Dominant / Submissive relationship. Carrie knew her better than I did and had given me the story a few weeks ago. Sabrina had been involved with the kind of guy who’d given Doms a bad name. When it ended, she’d forgotten what it was like to make choices and decisions on her own. He hadn't protected and cared for her. He'd used and abused her, his needs always superseding her own. His sadism hadn't been to bring her pleasure, but to please him.
She'd needed a man who made her feel safe, and she'd given herself to the worst. Now, she needed someone to help her be her own person again, but while I felt sorry for her, part of me thought she’d do better if she’d get her ass into therapy instead of coming to the club, trying to find a replacement for a man who wasn't worth it.
Yeah, Arik could give her what she needed for a night, but he wouldn’t want to master somebody outside the bedroom.
He clearly didn't want anything outside the bedroom, I thought as my heart twisted in my chest.
It’s not what he needs, a small, petty voice in the back of my head whispered. He didn’t want to lead somebody’s life for them, didn’t want to control them. He craved a woman’s submission, the thrill of it, the rush that came from that kind of trust, the sheer eroticism of it. I understood that, better than any submissive could.
I could give him what he needed...and more.
A voice from the doorway, followed by a knock and my name had me jolting back to attention. I blinked, staring at the cop standing just inside my door.
Heat crawled up the back of my neck, but I battled down the discomfort. “Hello, Officer Dunne. Can I help you?”
The middle aged officer had already gone completely gray. He was a short, stout man, maybe five foot four and he was wide through the chest and arms. He reminded me of an old, stunted grizzly bear. We knew each other fairly well thanks to an...altercation that had happened in court a year ago. Dunne been passing by the doors just as my client's ex-husband decided he wasn’t happy about the decision the judge had handed down.
He’d lost it, plain and simple, grabbing a cane from an older man who’d been walking by. The older man toppled with a frail cry while I pushed my client behind me, somehow thinking my tiny body was going to hide her five and half feet, big-boned frame.
The man had clearly been coming after both of us, swinging the cane wildly.
But he'd never made it.
The solid, sturdy form of Officer Dunne had rammed into him and my client’s ex had gone flying like he’d been hit with a battering ram. After arresting the jerk, Dunne had come over and comforted my sobbing client. Ever since then, he and I had always made a point to greet each other whenever our paths happened to cross.
Now, after a brief pause to look around, the cop stepped inside, and gestured to the door. “I’d like to talk to you, if you got a minute, Ms. Monroe.”
“By all means.” I put my pen down and leaned back, relieved at being able to take my attention from the papers covering my desk. Maybe what I needed was something else to distract me for a few minutes, and then I’d be able to focus better.
Dunne came inside and shut the door, pausing again just inside to look around the office before shaking his head. “This isn’t an office, Ms. Monroe. They might as well have shoved you into a coffin and been done with it. How do you even breathe?”
I gave him a wry smile. “I try not to. I’m conserving oxygen so when they do decide to bury me, I have plenty of reserves.”
He laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “I ain’t never seen them stick anybody in this box.” He waited another moment and then just shook his head.
“I manage.” Without wanting to, I thought about Pierce, and how I was in here because it would have been too cramped for Pierce and Bethany to have sex in this tiny, cramped space. They needed his bigger office down the hall.
“I hear you’ve been assigned to work with McDermott on the Mance murder case.” Dunne sat in the chair across from me. “Is that right?”
“Yes.” I flipped through my notes, most of them made from the few facts that Bethany had given me. She hadn’t given me much of anything official which was making it hard to do my job. She’d told me all the reports were still in the process of being finished. I wondered how much of that was because she'd been a little preoccupied lately.
I gave Dunne a narrow look. “Do you know much about the case, Dunne?”
He made a non-committal gesture. “A bit. I was the first officer on scene. The prime suspect, well...” He blew out a breath.
“It sounds like an open and shut case,” I said, glancing at my notes.
He shot me a look, one that made my stomach drop.
“Is that what McDermott is telling you?”
I decided to hedge a bit. I didn't like Bethany, but she was my boss. “To be honest, I’m just going by the facts I have available.” I paused a moment, then added, “And there aren't many. I need to get reports together, make sure I'm familiar with the case so I can write up anything Bethany needs.”
He nodded slowly, a speculative expression on his face. “My shift is wrapping up soon. I got some time, if you'd rather talk to me than read a copy of my report. And, to be honest, I’d like a word with you.”
“Well, okay.” I stared down at the paperwork on my desk. I'd filed forms and organized stuff, but I hadn’t really done any real work. Smiling a little, I gathered up my files and locked them in my desk. “Let me go talk to Bethany. You want to meet at the coffee shop on the corner when you’re off the clock?”
“It’s a deal.”
We moved to leave and then stopped, laughing. There wasn�
��t enough room for us both to stand side by side at the bottleneck created by the door and filing cabinet. Dunne stepped aside to let me pass, and once we were out, I locked the door. “See you soon.”
It was almost lunchtime anyway, I reasoned as I made my way to Bethany's office. I was sure Bethany would prefer I wait for the reports, and I probably would have...if Dunne hadn't come to see me. Something was up there, and after being bored out of my mind doing all this scut work, I was itching to get some answers of my own.
The light in Bethany's office was on, and I could hear her through the door, but when I knocked, she didn’t answer. Irritated, I checked my watch.
I knocked again and heard a muffled, “Come–”
“Hi, Bethany, sorry to bother you,” I said, already talking before I opened the door.
I stopped there.
“Shut the door!” she shouted, her face flushed.
Slowly, I reached back and nudged it shut.
“I wanted...” her voice caught, and then she continued. “You on the other side.”
“You didn’t mention that.” I kept my voice flat. “I knocked twice and heard you say come in.”
Her cheeks went an even hotter shade of red. “That wasn’t what I...yes, of course.” A shudder went through her body. “Of course. My apologies.”
Her eyes darted around, something akin to panic on her face.
I followed her gaze, cocking my head when I found myself staring at the briefcase sitting on the floor next to the desk. A suit jacket was hanging on the chair.
The briefcase was Pierce’s.
I looked at it a moment longer, then looked at the jacket. As I raised my eyes to her face, I struggled to keep my expression blank. Her body shuddered again and I almost asked her where Pierce was, what he was working on.
But I already knew the answer. He was up under her skirt, hidden by that desk, working on getting her off.
They were enjoying a little afternoon delight. I was all for some fun and games, but they were dumping buckets of work on me, not getting done the things she needed to do. I’d even overheard her this morning foisting a case off on another DA earlier, claiming her workload and training her new ADAs was just too much. Maybe she was training. Just not this ADA.
And I was pretty sure what she was training Pierce to do wasn't anything I wanted to learn.
I gestured back over my shoulder. “A friend of mine with NYPD is going to help me with something regarding the case. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I’m heading out.”
I turned to go.
“Dena.”
I really didn't like her saying my name when Pierce was doing who knew what under there.
“I’ve got this,” I said easily. “You go back to...whatever you were doing.” I didn’t look at her as I spoke. “Maybe I should lock this.”
I glanced at her, catching a glimpse of her face growing even more red. She was speaking when I shut the now-locked door, but I tuned her out.
How did that woman get anything done if she was that caught up in Pierce and getting laid?
Oh, wait. That’s why I was there.
Chapter 2
Arik
A headache pulsed behind my eyes and I hadn’t slept worth shit.
If I didn’t get some serious sleep, and soon, I wouldn’t be worth much of anything for my clients, and it wasn’t just Leayna I needed to worry about.
Granted, the petty thugs who had “requested” my services probably would've benefited from doing some time behind bars, and taking some of those anger management courses. The world wouldn’t suffer if any of them were found guilty and served out the sentences they had rightfully earned.
I wouldn’t let that happen, though. My job was to offer a defense, no matter who my client was. I wasn't at a place where I could be choosy about who I defended. So I had to get through the day.
I had to stop thinking about Dena every ten minutes.
I had to focus past the headache and finish the motions I was putting together for–
The door flung open.
Bethany McDermott stood there, cheeks flushed while her shoulders rose and fell in a ragged rhythm.
Well, now there was one less thing I didn’t need to follow up on. Clearly, she'd been notified about my motion to have her removed from the case.
“Ms. McDermott, what a nice surprise. How are you doing today?” I didn’t bother asking what she was doing in my office. Or if she’d forgotten how to knock. Bethany could bulldoze just about anybody, and I knew she got off doing it. I had a feeling one of the reasons she’d fixated on me had to do with the fact that I didn’t get bulldozed. Not by her. Not by anyone.
I refused to think of the petite submissive who'd pretty much done just that.
“You son of a bitch,” she said, her voice low. Striding forward, she stopped in front of my desk, shoulders rising and falling, breasts straining the decency of the lace camisole she wore. She hadn’t buttoned her jacket up, and I had a feeling that was intentional.
Whether or not she was aware of the audience gathering behind her, I didn’t know. If she was, she didn’t let that stop her.
Slamming her hands down on my desk, she said it again. “You son of a bitch.”
“I’ll have you know, my mother is a very nice woman.” I gave her a tight smile, knowing it'd just piss her off even more. I kept my voice even so that the people gathering would have no doubt who was losing control here. “I don’t appreciate having you talk about her like that.”
“Do you know who I just heard from?” She practically spat out each word.
“I’m going to assume it wasn’t my mother.” I could see a darker flush creeping up her neck as I continued, “If you had, you would've realized I was right. She’s a very pleasant lady.”
Bethany slashed a hand through the air. “I don’t give a damn about your mother, you bastard.”
I couldn't resist. “My parents were married.”
“Shut up!” she shrieked. Her eyes narrowed and she leaned on my desk, giving me an unwanted eyeful of her cleavage. “You arrogant ass! How in the hell did you possibly think the judge would take you seriously? Did you really think he was going to buy that I have some sort of personal vendetta against you? What were you thinking, trying to have me to knock this case, Arik?!”
From over her shoulder, I could tell that our audience had grown, and now they were edging closer to the door. I ignored them, keeping my focus on Bethany’s face. Once I got statements from all of them, I'd present them to the judge as proof.
“I was thinking, Ms. McDermott, about the fact that even though you were only assigned the case a few days ago, you’ve already come perilously close to violating all sorts of ethical issues.” Lifting a hand, I started to tick off my fingers. “You interfered while I was still conversing with my client.”
She flicked a hand dismissively.
I ticked another finger. “You pushed two other cases off the docket to get Ms. Mance before a judge for her bail hearing.”
“Are you complaining about that? He actually gave her bail.” She still looked pissed over that.
“Oh, no. I’m not complaining.” As a matter of fact, I even chuckled a little, just remembering the look on her face when the judge had agreed Leayna Mance wasn’t a flight risk. I ticked down another finger. “Then there’s the fact that I hadn't been made aware of the schedule change until it was practically time.”
“I was told you'd be contacted.” She lifted a shoulder, studying her nails.
“Really? That’s odd, because the clerks I talked to said that you'd assured them you already had plans to see me, said you’d told them you would advise me of the schedule change.” I had signed statements from them, even though they'd taken a little finagling to get.
“What are you implying?” There was a snarl quivering on her lips.
As I rose, it fell away. Slowly, I leaned forward, hands braced on my desk. I smiled at her, and it wasn't a nice smile at all. “M
s. McDermott, I’m not implying anything. But you should know that I have a hard copy of the schedule change. I talked to those clerks and have their sworn statements. Now, if you were just trying to help us out, I appreciate that. Maybe it slipped your mind and you forgot to give me a call like you said you would. That’s fine.”
Eyelids flickered, but her face was otherwise impassive.
“But don’t think I don’t know how to play hardball.” Lifting a shoulder in a shrug, I said, “Take a look at my track record. Just about all I play is hardball. I’ve had much bigger bullies than you try to push me around.” I lowered my voice as if I was telling her a secret. “You don’t scare me.”
Something ugly moved through her eyes as she straightened and stepped away from the desk. It was gone by the time she smoothed her hand down her suit and leveled a calm smile in my direction. The coral material clung to her curves, outlining them in sleek perfection, making her look both elegant and efficient.
Her eyes, however, were empty. That expression would've been unnerving, if I hadn't known lawyers like her.
I'd done my homework on her after my first encounter, and it hadn't taken me long to figure her out. She didn’t give a damn about the law or justice. She wasn’t there to put away the guilty. She was just there because she cared about winning. Nothing else mattered. Not guilt or innocence. Just a win.
“You should know that your motion to have me removed from the case was dismissed.” Her composure restored, she adjusted the gold pin on her lapel. She checked her cuffs and then smiled at me. “I’ll be sure to pass along your concerns to my boss and let him know you are attempting to smear the office of the district attorney. That might not go over too well with your new boss.”
I laughed. “If you’re trying to intimidate me, you’re gonna have to do better than that. I don’t give a damn what the office of the district attorney thinks. I'm not interested in playing politics. I only care about doing the best job I can for my client. As far as I’m concerned, having an incompetent lawyer handling the prosecution isn’t the best thing for anybody.”