Callie reappeared in the doorway with a box in hand and wearing nothing but her shirt. Slim feet with bright red painted toenails showed off the bit of sexy whimsy she hid under her sensible bodyguard shoes. Her lean legs went on for miles, disappearing right at the dark edge of her crisp dress cotton. If she had panties on under there, they sure were tiny.
And he damn well planned to solve that little mystery in the next few minutes.
“You should wear skirts to the office,” he said, thinking they’d never get any work done if she did.
“I can move better in pants.”
“I can get to you faster in a skirt.”
She shot him the sort of knowing smile women had used throughout the ages to signal a flashing “yes” sign to their lovers. “Why don’t you concentrate on getting to me now?”
That was the type of invitation she only had to issue once. “Come here.”
She threw a box on the couch next to him and walked over to stand in front of him. Her arms curled around his neck as her body slid next to his. Skin met skin. Sweet curves touched tense muscles. Everywhere he was hard, she was soft. Firm and athletic, but very womanly.
His hands settled on her ass. It took only a shocked second to flip up her shirt and find skin. “You’re not wearing underwear. Not that I’m complaining, because I’m not.”
“Seemed unnecessary,” she said as she kissed her way along his jaw.
“Smart woman.”
Trying to imagine her panties had been bad enough. Now he’d have to deal with the idea of her going without. He felt a sudden surge of gratefulness that he sat behind a big desk in his courtroom. Seeing every inch of her body and thinking of her bare under her conservative suits would make the barrier to wandering eyes a necessity.
“Please tell me you weren’t like this today at work,” he said, half hoping she was.
“Would that upset you?”
“I may die from it.”
“Poor baby.”
“If I start thinking about this—” He squeezed her ass in his palm. “We’re never going to get through a court docket without at least two breaks to go back to my office so you can show me.”
“The naked part?” Her lips moved against his throat. “That’s all for you.”
“Sweet Jesus.”
“So is this.”
She tried to step back, but he held her close. With his hands on the small area of warm flesh between the tops of her thighs and bottom of her ass, he kept the connection. His head fell forward, his gaze glued to her fingers as she slid the shirt off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor behind her.
She wasn’t wearing a damn thing underneath there, either.
Ben’s gaze wandered over the tops of her breast to her tight rosy nipples. Down her flat stomach to the soft flare of her hips. Ending at the thin strip of hair covering her very core. She didn’t try to hide or talk, but her skin flushed pink under his inspection. Soft breaths skimmed his cheek as he trailed his fingers past her waist and kept going.
When his thumb slipped into her heat, her legs opened in silent invitation. He pressed and brushed until her wetness bathed his skin. With each pass her inner muscles clenched, as if trying to drag his fingers deeper inside. The more he touched, the more he wanted to taste. To accomplish that, he slid to his knees. Her salty scent filled him as he widened her legs to fit between.
Her nails scraped down his back as he found her clit. Licking and sucking, he whipped her into a frenzy. Her thighs tightened against his shoulders as her lower body swayed in time with the rhythm of his mouth.
She begged. She pounded on his shoulders. Still he held her steady and swept his tongue over her clit while he stretched her open with two fingers. A husky moan rumbled up her chest and echoed in his ear.
Her pleasure only made him work harder. The taste of her on his lips and feel of her against his hand fueled his needs. His body ached and strained. Pleasure mixed with pain as he held back and concentrated on her pleasure. Faster and harder he caressed and inflamed until her lower body pulled into a tight spring. With one last pass of pressure on her clit, she exploded, arching in open-mouthed ecstasy.
Callie shouted his name as the muscles in her legs gave way. Her body collapsed. Damp skin and soft hair fell against his back. Heavy breaths forced her body up and down as she fought to regain her breathing.
The romantic thing would be to let her mind calm and her body cool, but his cock twitched with the need to get inside her. As gently as possible, he put his hand on the small of her back and eased her to the tan carpet. At this angle he hovered over her, able to see every delicious inch of her heated skin.
The back of her hand rested against her open mouth as her legs fell open in welcome.
“Callie…”
“Now, Ben.”
As far as he was concerned they were fifteen minutes past the point of comfort. His lower body had pulled tight enough to make the blood pound inside him. She was ready for him and he couldn’t get enough of her. With his hands on her knees, he moved between her thighs. He didn’t even remember ripping open the box and fishing out a condom, but he wore it, which meant nothing could stop him from fulfilling the fantasy now.
The tip of his cock entered her tight passage, pushing and stretching as he slipped deep inside. Her body clamped down on his as he pulled out and then thrust back in again. He tried to set an even pace to let her body adjust, but she wouldn’t let him go slow. Her palms grabbed his ass and brought him in even tighter against her. The shocking sensation sent his stomach tumbling as if he just raced the highest point of a roller coaster.
It had to be now.
He pinned her hands to the floor and threaded his fingers through hers. Closeness, not control, was the issue. He wanted to feel every part of her as his body ratcheted up even further. When she dug her heels into the back of his thighs, the last of his control snapped. Speed and intensity overtook finesse. From her knees to her breasts, every part of her touched a part of him as their bodies bucked and their moans filled the quiet room.
Her head fell back and an orgasm ripped through her. He followed right after. Flexing his hips, he lodged his cock deep inside her one last time. Jerking and pressing, his body clamped down hard. Everything inside him stiffened as his breath caught on a gasp. A second later, the vise-grip hold on his lower body loosened and he emptied into her.
It took another ten minutes for his breathing to return to normal.
Five minutes after that, she led him to her bedroom to start again.
Chapter Seven
By eight that evening, the courthouse had quieted down. Except for a few law enforcement officials stationed at the entrance to the building and others signing off shifts down in the sheriff’s area, no one was around. Emma welcomed the calm. Knowing Keith sat just outside her office helped soothe the queasy unease that had filled her ever since the bomb went off.
Her anxiety had only heightened earlier when Mark dragged Scott to the hidden elevator at the side of her courtroom. The same elevator that led straight to the sheriff’s office holding cells downstairs. As Mark led him out, Scott lost his control and promised to sue, a threat that just damned him further in Mark’s eyes. It all happened hours ago, but no matter how many times she shut her eyes, Emma couldn’t block that image from her mind.
She heard shuffling and glanced up to see Mark filling her doorway. Dark with shocking green eyes and a brooding air, he commanded every room he entered. The lines of his face were sharper than Ben’s. Where Ben smiled and his face lit up, Mark usually wore a stern frown. They were both handsome, Ben more classically so, and athletic in a could-lift-a-car kind of way.
A whiff of danger followed Mark. He worked in secret and thrived on the adrenaline of walking on the edge. Compared to her and Ben, who lived in the open, constantly subject to public scrutiny, Mark moved only in shadows and refused to let anyone share that gloomy space with him.
The women in the courthouse and managers
of the newspaper’s society section developed a crush on Ben the minute he stepped on the scene. He put on that robe and otherwise sensible females went wild. Emma loved Ben, but like a brother.
There was nothing brotherly about her feelings for Mark. Never had been.
“Hey.” Mark stood with his hands resting on either side of the threshold. He called to Keith in the outer office. “Go ahead and take a break. Get some fresh air. I’ll watch over Judge Blanton for the next half hour. Check back at exactly eight thirty.”
A shiver ran through her at Mark’s remark. She held a position of power, made decisions about freedom and forgiveness every day, and still this man could shake her to the core.
“How’s Scott?” she asked, trying to keep their communication as routine as Mark did.
“He finally stopped whining. I had one of my men take him home.”
Leave it to Mark to find a young man’s protests of innocence to be nothing more than a nuisance. “I guess that means his story checked out?”
“A delivery kid met Scott by the elevator, and then Scott walked the envelope back and slid it under Ben’s door. Tracked down the delivery service and it was a cash job. Kid has no connection with Scott. Insists Scott just happened to be there and wouldn’t let the kid go back to the restricted chambers area.”
Emma exhaled for the first time in hours. “So, Scott was telling the truth.”
“About this, but I’m still checking on his background.”
“It’s clean. Just be relieved Scott isn’t the problem.” She knew she was.
“It would have been easier if Scott was behind all of this.”
“Why?”
“It’d be over.”
The edge to Mark’s voice worried her. “But you let him go, right?”
“Scared the hell out of him first.”
She’d be lucky if Scott even showed up for work tomorrow. As if the office wasn’t enough of a mess without losing her clerk. “Was that really necessary?”
“Thought so at the time.” Mark pushed off from the door and walked toward her. More like stalked. His sleek body moved with a rhythm that mesmerized her.
“Either way, thank you for assigning Keith to me.”
“He’s good at his job.”
As usual, Mark jumped right to work and avoided anything personal. Their relationship had moved in and out of the bedroom for years, yet he still talked to her like they just met. Except for a short period of time in her life, Mark came to her after every difficult job. Didn’t talk. Just used his key to get in her house, climbed onto the mattress, and released his frustration and anxiety through rounds of high-energy sex.
“How did you know I’d be here tonight?” she asked.
“You’re a workaholic. Ever since…” Mark coughed. “You’re here a lot now.”
“You mean since I left Jeff.” It had happened a year ago. The rumor mill buzzed about the circumstances surrounding her breakup with her former fiancé. Her ex fed the frenzy by suggesting Ben had played a role. The headlines painted her as a woman out of control in her private life, sleeping with both a prominent partner in a prestigious law firm and the handsome judge across the hall.
The real reason for leaving before walking down the aisle turned out to be much more mundane. She backed out because she refused to settle. She loved Mark. Ben helped her to see that truth, and then he got dragged into her nasty all-too-public breakup as a thank-you.
“You’ve been busy pissing off the public, making speeches,” Mark said, broaching a subject she knew picked at him but which he hadn’t mentioned. Until now.
“Someone is always going to be upset with my decisions. That’s the nature of the job.”
Mark slid into the seat across from her and balanced an ankle over his other knee.
“I heard someone filed a complaint against you challenging your fitness as a judge.”
That part ate away at her. She gave up so much for the job and in return had grievances filed against her. There was a public movement to remove her from the bench, a plan that left her empty and restless.
“The new theory is that I skew the cases against defendants and bias juries. Funny how no one ever questioned my professional integrity until a year ago, and now everyone watches every move I make,” she said.
“A bomb did go off in front of you. Some folks are watching and talking because of that and not because of anything else.”
“Admittedly, the timing was not great.”
“Is there ever a good time for attempted murder?”
“Not that I can see.”
Mark tapped on the bottom of his shoe. “What did you think would happen when you said those things to Steve Jenner at his sentencing hearing? Reporters were in the courtroom. His attorneys were looking for grounds for appeal.”
“I am aware of that.”
“Hell, his wife continues to deny the reality of being married to a rapist and murderer. She wants someone to blame for the crapper of a life she’s been handed, and you gave her a prime target. All but painted a bull’s-eye on your back.”
“You think she’s behind the threats?”
“If so, not on her own, and I doubt she’s paying anyone. She ran through almost every dime on her husband’s legal fees. There’s just nothing left. Besides, I’ve had someone on her ever since she started screaming at you in the courtroom. There’s no evidence she’s physically gunning for you. She’s spending too much time going on talk shows and complaining about renegade judges. It looks as if she’s found her calling.”
The realization of just how much Mark knew about this other woman and her whereabouts stunned Emma. “Is digging into her life part of your official job?”
“It’s one that helps me sleep at night.”
Emma knew that was as close as he would ever get to admitting he cared about her. She knew how he operated. They had grown up together. Slept together as recently as a week ago when he showed up on her doorstep and without a word led her upstairs. Otherwise, he stayed disconnected, passing messages through Ben and keeping a safe distance.
But they shared a violent past. Because of that he should understand how hearing the parade of lies about victims would chip away at her reserve. “You don’t know what it’s like.”
“Enlighten me.”
“I sit up there day after day and listen to victims get bashed and maligned. I hear fantastical stories about how rape victims asked to be hurt. How being out at night means a woman deserves to be tortured and killed. About how husbands snap and kill the ones they supposedly love and should be forgiven because it was a one-time thing, as if that even makes sense.”
“You’ve been on the bench for seven years. None of this was new.”
“But it builds up. You watch the juries and see the defense attorney connect with someone. Feel that one person start to believe that a respectable businessman like Steve Jenner couldn’t possibly beat and rape women in the basement of his house. That his wife would know, because any reasonable human would, even though the evidence of his guilt is clear.”
“You’re too close to this situation.”
Emma relived every minute of the damning trial information every time she closed her eyes. “You can’t hear that kind of testimony and not feel something.”
Mark’s eyes clouded with an emotion she couldn’t name. “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t.”
“You have to separate Jenner from your mom.”
Emma knew the suggestion was coming. Still, Mark’s words jabbed at her midsection. “This isn’t about her.”
“Of course it is.” His voice grew softer the longer he talked.
If he had yelled or ordered, she would have had a defense. But he sat there, listening and the words spilled out of her. “I just want to feel clean again.”
“Emma—”
“Ben enjoys the job, gets a rush out of the vibe in his courtroom. Not me. Not anymore. I get swamped with a coldness I can’t shake.”
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“Take a leave of absence.”
Quit and run. Mark had been pushing that agenda for years. She used to think his words were about protecting her. Now she knew it was another means of pushing her away.
Resolve built back up inside her. “No. Absolutely not.”
“You need a break.”
“If I walk away, then guys like Jenner win.”
Mark let out an exhale full of frustration. “Use your head. Someone is trying to do more than scare you here.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “I’ll be fine.”
Mark leaned in with a voice rubbed harsh from need. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
A short shocked silence filled the room.
“Ever,” he added in a whisper.
She wanted to go to him, to curl up on his lap and let him wash away all the confusion and fear with a rain of kisses. But he’d bolt. He was in superagent mode, all serious and bossy. He could handle being shot at and testifying before Congress. Female weakness, now that scared the hell out of him.
What she needed and what he could give had never matched. Time hadn’t changed that obvious fact. So, she settled for letting him know she felt secure. “I have Keith. Nothing is going to happen with him here, or you stopping by, or Ben across the hall.”
Mark glanced at his watch. “Where is Keith?”
“Probably walking around the floor.” She smiled at the thought of her oversized, no-neck bodyguard pacing the hallway. “I’m sure he just lost track of time.”
Mark was already up and out of his chair. “Keith doesn’t make mistakes.”
Chapter Eight
The call came around midnight. Callie fought through a fog of sexual satisfaction and rabid hunger to concentrate on the rumbling sound. Being pinned to the mattress with an arm wrapped around her waist and Ben’s firm thigh pressed against hers, she couldn’t move. Wasn’t even sure she wanted to.
“What the hell is that?” Ben grumbled against her bare shoulder without opening his eyes.
“Phone.” That was the only explanation she could muster in her wiped-out state.
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