Unlawful Desires (Lawyers in Lust Book 1)

by Sassy Sinclair

  Once his client arrived, Marcel’s thoughts turned to the discovery motion he was about to argue. Typically, there wasn’t much riding on this kind of hearing. But if the judge ruled in his favor today, it would all but decimate the plaintiff’s case. That would bode well for Marcel. Ivers Corporation was a new client and Marcel planned to impress them by disposing of the case quickly, rather than stringing it out and billing them up the wazoo. The company would be thrilled about the quick resolution and throw more work his way.

  Even though the law wasn’t solidly in his favor, Marcel was still expecting a win. He’d written a persuasive brief, but more importantly, the judge hearing the case was one of the laziest jurists on the bench. Instead of reading the case law for himself, Judge Kidwell tended to follow the lead of the big law firms appearing before him. The plaintiff’s attorney was a solo practitioner. That meant Marcel’s firm, Sherman & Finnegan, would have an edge with the judge.

  Marcel walked into the courtroom and handed the judge’s clerk his business card.

  “Is there a tentative?” he asked.

  Most judges issued a tentative ruling prior to the hearing but still gave counsel the opportunity to argue their respective positions. In only a few instances had Marcel been able to sway a judge to change a tentative decision that wasn’t in his favor.

  “Judge Kidwell had an emergency,” the clerk replied. “Another judge is covering today.”

  A surge of panic settled in his chest. Marcel had his client all psyched up for a big win. The only reason he’d been so confident was because Judge Kidwell was hearing the case. A substitute judge probably hadn’t had time to even read the briefs.

  Just as he was about to ask who was filling in for Kidwell, the bailiff called the court to order. Marcel scrambled back to the gallery. The Ivers case was first on the docket.

  When the back door of the courtroom opened, an invisible sucker-punch almost knocked Marcel off his feet. He watched in shock as Sharla Ratliff, her navy-blue suit covered by a long black robe, climbed atop the bench.

  A dozen thoughts swirled around in his head all at once. Was this a good or bad thing? Since he was so horny for the woman, would he be able to think straight? She studied a document in front of her, oblivious to his presence in the courtroom.

  The clerk called out the case name. Marcel and the plaintiff’s counsel made their way into the well of the courtroom. Sharla—or Judge Ratliff—still hadn’t looked up.

  “Good morning,” she said, all businesslike, her eyes barely skimming her audience before falling back to the document in front of her. “Please state your appearances for the record.”

  The opposing counsel announced his name, law firm, and client, then turned to him.

  “Marcel Dennard, with Sherman & Finnegan, counsel for defendant and responding party, Ivers Corporation.”

  Sharla’s head shot up. There was a bolt of panic in her eyes before they fell back to the desk. Marcel could tell she was taking a few seconds to compose herself.

  Once again, all Marcel could feel was lust. Instead of thinking about his oral argument, he was imagining her butt naked underneath that robe. When he got with her, he would ask her to put it on. He’d crawl underneath it and drive her wild with his tongue. Or maybe he’d wear it while she went down on him.

  “Mr. Dennard, did you hear my question?” Sharla fired an impatient glare down from the bench.

  No, Your Honor, I didn’t. I was too busy fantasizing about you giving me head.

  He hoped she couldn’t see his erection from the bench. He took a folder from the table and held it in front of his crotch.

  “Excuse me, Your Honor. Could you repeat the question?”

  Sharla was as aloof as she had been at the dance. She was pretending that she didn’t recognize him from Adam.

  “My question,” she said, her voice full of irritation, “was how do you distinguish the Ross and Willis cases? They clearly support the plaintiff’s position. As I interpret those cases, you have no valid basis for refusing to turn over the personnel files of the employees who’ve been subpoenaed for deposition.”

  “Actually, Your Honor, the cases are distinguishable from our case. Important privacy rights are at issue here and the discovery requests are also overly burdensome.”

  “Arguing burdensomeness isn’t going to get you anywhere, Mr. Dennard,” Sharla fired back. “As stated in the Ross decision—which you cited in your brief by the way—the court is required to balance the importance of discovery against the burden on the producing party. I can’t see how turning over these personnel files could be a burden for a huge corporation like your client.”

  Damn. She actually read the cases. Kidwell never did that.

  “That’s absolutely right,” counsel for the plaintiff chimed in. “The files we’re seeking are quite relevant and no burden at all for Ivers Corporation to produce.”

  “Your Honor, uh—” Marcel was usually pretty smooth on his feet, but today he must have looked like a baby lawyer arguing his first motion. He couldn’t remember what he was about to say. “Uh—I—uh, actually, it’s not just an issue of burdensomeness. As I pointed out in my brief, the personnel files are not relevant to any of the claims in this case.”

  The judge frowned. “Your opposing counsel contends that the employees’ performance evaluations, annual compensation, and bonuses go directly to whether they rushed a defective product to market for their personal financial gain.”

  Marcel needed to take the floor back. “Well—uh—I respectfully disagree. Just because an employee received a bonus doesn’t mean their decision to approve the product is tainted. And there are other ways for the plaintiff to obtain this information besides snooping around in their personnel files.”

  “Your Honor,” plaintiff’s counsel interrupted again, “we tried another way, but Mr. Dennard refused to provide the requested information in response to our interrogatory requests.”

  “Really?” Sharla pursed her lips. “You had your chance, Mr. Dennard, but you blew it. You should’ve answered those interrogatories. So I’m—”

  “Hold on, Your Honor.” Marcel was desperate to salvage the worst oral argument of his career. “If I could just—”

  “Don’t interrupt me, counsel,” the judge snapped. “I’m ordering you to hand over the personnel file of every employee who’s been subpoenaed for deposition within thirty-six hours. The plaintiff’s motion to compel is granted.”

  What the fuck?

  “Your Honor, I’d like to be heard on the issue of—”

  “No need. I’ve ruled.” Sharla banged her gavel. “Next case.”

  Chapter 11

  Sharla

  Sharla couldn’t wait to escape to her chambers after a long day of subbing in Judge Kidwell’s courtroom. Having Marcel Dennard appear before her had been quite disconcerting. She could barely keep a straight face.

  Marcel must have been doubly shocked to find out that she was a judge. His judge. She imagined him sauntering into court thinking he had a slam dunk case since Judge Kidwell was such a slacker.

  Well, she certainly showed him. Marcel wouldn’t expect a call from her now. And his appearing before her meant that she couldn’t commence a relationship with him even if she’d wanted to. It would be a clear conflict of interest.

  As hard as she tried to deny her feelings, there was something about the man that filled her with the kind of excitement she hadn’t felt in years. Or was it plain old lust? She couldn’t believe how wet she got sitting up there on the bench peering down at him. Maybe she would dust off her vibrator tonight for the first time in months.

  Marcel invoked an intense attraction, yet an equally powerful fear. It was almost as if a flashing red light was warning her to get as far away from the man as she could, while a bright green one beckoned her to run straight into his arms.

  S
he skimmed over her court calendar for tomorrow. The docket listed five discovery motions and she had only completed tentative decisions for three of them. She stuffed the briefs into her satchel. Another long night.

  Slipping out of her robe, she retrieved her purse from her desk drawer. She would have a nice, long soak in the tub when she got home, and then get to work reading the briefs. It would probably take her until after midnight to finish. But she didn’t mind. Sharla loved the intellectual challenge of her work.

  Just as she was about to turn off the light, her desk phone rang. She rarely got a work-related call on her office phone this late in the day. She hoped it wasn’t Kidwell needing her to cover his courtroom for a second day. As a junior judge, having only been on the bench for three years, she was often called on for double duty.

  “Hello,” she said into the phone.

  “Good evening, Your Honor. This is Marcel Dennard.”

  It took her five seconds to respond.

  “Mr. Dennard, in light of the fact that you just appeared before me today, this call is highly inappropriate. You know full well that ex parte communications are a no-no. This call has to be reported to the other side.”

  “There is no other side,” Marcel said. “After you granted the plaintiff’s motion, we settled the case on the courthouse steps.”

  There was a hint of resentment in his tone.

  “Well, exactly what is it that you want?”

  “I want you to have dinner with me. Tonight.”

  Sharla paused. Man, he was ballsy.

  “Are you there?”

  “Yes, I’m here. But I’m sorry, that’s not a good idea. Besides, I have stacks of briefs to read tonight.”

  He ignored her reluctance. “Then let’s just have a quick drink. How about WP 24 at six?”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t. I—”

  “The case is over with.” There was a firmness in his voice. “There’re no ethical issues preventing you from having a drink with me. I want to see you. Tonight. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I’ll be waiting at the bar. Six o’clock.”

  The phone went dead and Sharla just stared at it.

  The man had some nerve. Who does he think he is?

  Admittedly, she was both enticed by his lack of intimidation and turned on by his boldness. A lot of men, even lawyers, slithered away once they found out she was a judge. If she was truly going to play this act-like-a-man game, she had to put herself to the test. Why not go for it with an Adonis like Marcel Dennard?

  She dug into her purse, pulled out her makeup bag and walked over to check out her face in the mirror behind the door. She ran her fingers through her hair and touched up her lipstick.

  “Okay, Mr. Dennard,” she said into the mirror, “you probably don’t realize it, but you’ve just met your match.”

  Chapter 12

  Marcel

  Marcel estimated the odds of Sharla showing up at about fifty-fifty. He glanced at his watch. Eighteen minutes after six. She was going to leave him hanging.

  Marcel was disappointed but not defeated. He wanted her and he was going to have her. Sharla being a judge didn’t intimidate him in the least. Underneath that robe, she was still a woman.

  That robe. He couldn’t wait to screw her in that robe.

  Finishing off his cognac, he tried to figure out what his next move would be. He would send her flowers in the morning.

  He left a ten-dollar tip for the bartender then headed for the elevators. He got off on the first floor and walked over to the small booth to pay the valet for his car. As he turned around, Sharla drove up in a silver Lexus.

  “Keep the car,” he said to the man in the booth. “I’m not ready to leave after all.”

  Marcel stood off to the side, his arms folded, watching her.

  When their eyes met, Sharla smiled.

  Damn, she’s pretty.

  He waited as she strutted over to him.

  “Sorry, I’m late.”

  “I forgive you, Your Honor.”

  He opened the door leading into the lobby and followed her inside.

  Neither of them spoke during the long elevator ride to the 24th floor. WP 24—as in Wolfgang Puck 24 —was one of the chef’s signature restaurants in Los Angeles.

  They settled into a booth along the window. The restaurant sat atop the Ritz-Carlton Hotel in downtown Los Angeles. The view was mesmerizing.

  “I’m glad you came,” Marcel said.

  “I’m glad you asked.”

  “Are you? You certainly gave me a hard time at the dance.”

  Sharla tilted her head. “That was a test. I like a man willing to work for what he wants.”

  Marcel nodded. “What’re you drinking?”

  “I’ll just have a Coke. I really do have a ton of work to do tonight.”

  He flagged a waiter and ordered soda for Sharla and another cognac for himself. He also placed an order for the lobster rolls.

  “So tell me about yourself?” Marcel began.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  “I grew up in L.A. I have two brothers. My parents have been married for 38 years and they’re a complete riot. My oldest brother is also a lawyer. He lives in Atlanta. We’re a small family but very close.”

  Marcel liked her answer. A lot of women would’ve rattled off their degrees and professional accomplishments. She talked about family. That was a good sign.

  “And you?”

  “We also have two lawyers in the family. My baby sister is an entertainment lawyer. It’s just the two of us. My dad died from pancreatic cancer when I was twelve. We moved here from Houston to be closer to my grandparents. My grandfather passed away late last year, which was hard. He became my father figure after my dad’s death. When he passed, it was like I was a kid again, reliving the death of my dad.”

  Marcel pressed his fist to his lips like a microphone and turned his head sideways, choking up for a second or two.

  “Sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “I don’t know where that burst of emotion came from.”

  Sharla reached over and covered his hand with hers. It was almost like he was meeting a different woman. The standoffish chick from the dance and the icy bitch on the bench had vanished.

  For the next hour, they talked and laughed easily. Sharla shared some of her funniest experiences on the bench, while Marcel talked about a couple of nightmare clients.

  “When I realized it was you on the phone,” she confessed, “I thought you were calling to complain about my ruling.”

  “Naw. That motion easily could’ve gone either way. But if Kidwell had been there, I would’ve won.”

  Sharla pursed her lips. “Only because he’s lazy.”

  “True. But you did me a favor. If I’d won, the case wouldn’t have settled and I wouldn’t be hooking up with you.”

  “Who said we’re hooking up?”

  “You did. In fact, your eyes are saying it right now.”

  “Is that smugness or confidence you’re wearing?”

  “Both.”

  Marcel could tell she liked his swag. Strong women need even stronger men.

  Sharla took her purse from the seat next to her. “It’s getting late. I should go. I still have lots of reading to do tonight.”

  Marcel paid the bill and they headed for the elevators.

  “I know you think I’m spouting some kind of line, but there really is something special about you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay? Is that all you have to say. You have a hard time accepting a compliment, don’t you?”

  She smiled. “Kinda.”

  The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. The second the doors closed, Marcel hit the red button, stopping the elevator with a jolt.
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br />   Before Sharla could ask what he was doing, Marcel leaned in and kissed her. His lips pressed firmly against hers as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. He began licking her lower lip as his right hand snaked around her waist, pulling her close. She eagerly leaned into his embrace, kissing him as voraciously as he kissed her.

  He dipped his head, freed her right breast from her blouse and suckled her nipple. Sharla moaned in pleasure as her hand squirmed inside his pants and stroked him. Seconds later, he lifted her skirt and caressed her thigh. Pulling her thong to the side, he fondled her panic button. He could swear it was throbbing.

  “You’re so wet,” Marcel marveled. “And hot too.”

  Other than her heavy panting, Sharla remained quiet, her body doing all the talking as she gyrated against his hand as he expertly fingered her clit. In no time, she began to shiver and he could tell she was close to coming. Seconds later, her body writhed uncontrollably, then collapsed against him in a heap.

  Marcel held her tight, inhaling the scent of her hair, her perfume, their sex.

  “I think we better get this elevator going again,” Sharla said, breathing hard as she eased out of his embrace. “Somebody’s probably waiting for it.”

  “You’re right.” Marcel’s groin still pulsated with desire for her. He put the elevator back in service as Sharla buttoned her blouse, tugged at the sleeves of her blazer and smoothed down her skirt.

  He was glad she’d come so quickly, bringing a hasty end to their semi-public display of affection. An elevator wasn’t quite where he’d planned on doing her for the first time. Just before she started to come, he was ready to whip out his joystick and bang her right there against the elevator wall. But he was a patient man. He would wait for a more appropriate setting.

  Marcel was actually impressed with himself for getting this far this fast. That told him Sharla wanted him as much as he wanted her despite the little shy girl act she put on. This was turning out to be way easier than he thought it would be. She had actually bought his entire performance, which only proved that smart women weren’t really all that smart.