“I didn’t think so. What’s your name?” he’d asked, cocking his head to the side, the edges of his mouth twitching into a smile as he played with a coaster in front of him.
“Leeta,” I’d replied with a smirk.
“Pretty name for a beautiful woman,” he’d replied. I’d rolled my eyes and burst out laughing. He had eyed me, amused. “Something funny?”
“You, actually. Do those lines ever work?” I’d asked, still sniggering.
He’d had the decency to look embarrassed. “Well, to be honest, the kind of girls I usually end up with aren’t much for talking.”
Laura had raced back over, giving me the thumbs up. She’d looked from me to Mace and decided it would be a great idea to stay there for a while. I’d known exactly what she was up to. That didn’t mean it wasn’t going to work.
That night, we stayed in that bar until four in the morning, talking about anything and everything. This guy I’d been convinced was just like every other cocky, self-assured ass had turned out to be different. He had depth. There were layers to him I never would’ve expected—layers I was only able to uncover after several shots and a lot of kissing.
Within a few weeks, we were spending nearly every night together. It wasn’t until our fourth date that I’d actually realized who he was. Until then, he was just Mace. Hell, I hadn’t even known his last name. But then I was telling him about a case I’d been working on when I literally saw the blood drain from his face. It turned out I was helping lock up an old associate of his dad.
My first thought? Holy hell. This will never work.
His father, the infamous Ronald Jordan, was in prison for life for his part in the hits of several underworld figures, and his brother, Cash, was also inside on drug charges. Thank God I’d played no role in putting either of them in there.
But the more time I spent with him, the more I realized that Mace wasn’t that guy. He came from a bad family, and he had made some bad decisions in his life, but he was a good guy.
He was my good guy.
#
I nodded to the security guard on duty as I passed my way through the screening. Taking the stairs, I flew up them two at a time to room 234, where my case was going to be heard.
Just off from the courtroom was a prep room where I could wait, and go over my closing argument. I slipped inside and flicked on the lights, shutting the door behind me. My phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw I had a new message from Mace.
I shrieked and then clapped my hand over my mouth.
Holy shit!
I blinked and checked the text again. No, I wasn’t imagining it. I stared at the picture of Mace’s very erect penis on the screen. A very impressive picture. I bit my lip as I stared at it, a familiar ache beginning to stir between my legs as I fantasized about his long, thick, erect shaft.
How was I supposed to respond to this? How was I supposed to focus on work with that image in my head? A message flashed up.
Are you sure there is no way I can convince you to cancel this dinner? I’d love your ‘hands-on’ opinion on something.
I laughed, flicking back to the picture again. Definitely impressive . . .
You’re meeting my parents. Case closed. Now back to this picture you sent me. Definitely holding my interest at the moment.
I giggled to myself while I waited for his reply.
There’s more where that came from, baby. But you don’t get without giving a little . . .
No way. He wasn’t suggesting I do that here—was he? I glanced at the picture again, running my finger along the screen. Quickly, I unbuttoned my shirt, untucking it from my skirt. Reaching behind my back, I unhooked my bra and pushed my breasts forward, my arm tucked below in a bid to enhance them.
I can’t believe I am doing this.
Click.
I checked the picture and pressed send before I could change my mind. Sexting? So not me, but it felt naughty, and I liked that feeling. The phone rang almost immediately.
“Wow.” His voice was low and husky. “I am honestly shocked you sent that. I must be a bad influence on you.” He chuckled. A shiver shot up my spine. I slipped my fingers over my nipple and closed my eyes, imagining his mouth on my body.
“I can be unpredictable.” A soft moan escaped me. I blushed, embarrassed. Please don’t have heard that.
“Leets, are you . . . you’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” he said. I could hear the shock in his voice.
“Well, you started it with that damn picture,” I said defensively, my face heating up.
He chuckled, obviously enjoying my embarrassment. “You liked that, did you? So…what are you wearing?”
“You know what I’m wearing,” I smirked. “You saw me a half hour ago.”
He chuckled again. “That’s true. Where are you, then?”
“In a room. Alone.”
“Is the door locked?”
“No.” I glanced up at the closed but unlocked door. “But it’s shut.”
“So anyone can walk in and catch you?”
“I guess.”
“Good.” A chill raced through me as I imagined someone catching me right then. “Are you wet for me, Leets? I want you to slip your fingers inside your panties and tell me how wet you are.” His voice was low and smooth. Was he touching himself too? Was he stroking his impressively hard cock while he was talking to me?
My heart raced as I lifted my skirt and slipped a finger inside my silk thong. I gasped. God, I’m so turned on right now.
“I’m wet . . . very wet,” I whispered. I repositioned my leg so my foot rested on the edge of the desk, allowing me to hitch my skirt up even further, the tops of my thigh-high stockings exposed.
I slipped a second finger inside my thong and began to massage, glancing toward the door every few seconds. If anyone walked in, they would cop an eyeful. This little show could potentially cost me my job, but right then, all I cared about was him, and my need for fulfilment.
“Tell me what you’re doing, Leets. Where is your finger? Is it inside of you?”
“Mmm,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. “I have two fingers inside me. I’m imagining it’s your cock slowly thrusting in, then out . . .” I sighed, my rhythm speeding up. “God, I’m so wet, Mace.”
“Good, Leets. I like you nice and wet. Imagine I’m kneeling down in front of you, spreading your legs as wide apart as I can. I begin to kiss your thigh, slowly making my way up higher and higher, until my lips are kissing the edge of your pussy.”
“Oh yeah,” I breathed, panting softly. Holy shit, this is so fucking sexy. The combination of his voice, the feel of my fingers moving inside me, and the realization that I could be caught at any moment was insanely hot.
“Leets, I’m licking your pussy right now. My tongue is running along your entrance. God, you’re so wet. You taste so sweet, baby. So fucking sweet,” he gasped, his voice climbing higher.
Fuck. We were miles away, only a phone connecting us, and we were on the verge of orgasming together. It was impossible to put into words how intimate this moment was. My back arched as I began to climax.
“Ahh,” I groaned, thrusting my fingers deeper inside of me. My muscles tensed as both relief and ecstasy raced through me. I wanted more, but I couldn’t take it. If Mace were here, he would push me further to the brink, past what I thought I could handle, and into a whole other level of satisfaction. “Oh yes,” I hissed, bringing my foot back down to the floor, locking my fingers between my thighs, desperate to prolong the feeling for as long as I could.
“God, Leets. You had me blow my load all over the wall. That was unbelievable.”
I laughed, slumped over the desk, trying to recover. I glanced at my watch. Shit—I had fifteen minutes until I was due in court.
“I have to go . . . I have to somehow get myself together and try and win a case,” I said. I reached for the folder containing my notes, my hands shaking as I shuffled through them. I’m a mess.
�
��You’ll be fine,” he assured me. “If you get flustered, just imagine my head between your legs.”
“Shut up!” I giggled, hanging up the phone.
Chapter Two
Mace
Well, that had been a nice way to wake up. Who was I kidding? Every day started like that—the only difference was that this time Leets had been an actual participant, instead of a figment of my imagination. Picturing her in that office with her legs spread, exploring herself, had been fucking hot.
We have to do that more often.
I climbed out of bed and yawned, kicking aside the piles of worn clothes that blocked my trail to the door. I was still waking up, and in desperate need of a shower. I glanced down and nodded.
Yep, definitely need a shower.
Yawning again, I staggered down to the bathroom and ran the shower. The feel of the water hitting my skin was like an instant wake-up. I quickly soaped my body and rinsed off the suds before turning off the taps.
I probably should’ve gotten up half an hour ago, but oh well. It wasn’t my fault I got distracted. Wait—yes it was. I reached into the cupboard for a towel. Fuck. Empty. Glancing around, I picked up the cleanest-looking one off the floor.
Yeah, I should probably do some washing soon. Or buy some new towels.
Wandering back down to the bedroom, I turned on the coffee pot on the way past. As I got dressed, I called Finn to let him know I was running late.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’ll be a few minutes late. Just start without me, okay?”
“Already on it. And you’re always late, man.”
That was true. One of the perks of owning your own business was being able to rock up late and leave early. I ran a business fixing bikes from the back of a mechanic in the western suburbs of Melbourne. It wasn’t much compared to Leeta’s achievements, but it kept me busy and I spent the day doing what I loved: being elbow-deep in grease and motor oil.
I drank my coffee and downed a bowl of cornflakes—not hurrying as much as I probably should have—and then grabbed my keys and helmet. Walking out to the garage through the internal door, I zipped up my jacket and threw my helmet on.
Jumping on the bike, I started her up and took off down the street.
#
“This guy has called twice.”
I took the slip of paper from Finn, recognizing the number instantly. No phone contact. What the fuck was this, then? My stomach tightened as I nodded, trying my best to appear indifferent. Finn narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously.
Finn was an old friend who also knew his way around a bike. He’d been working for me since I’d started up this business, and he knew me well enough to know something was up.
“Just a debt I need to pay,” I explained, my tone making it clear I didn’t want any more questions. Finn nodded and shrugged.
“Hey man, it’s cool. We all have debts we need to pay,” he said, clicking his tongue. I watched him as he walked off, chuckling to himself, wondering what the hell he was talking about. I shook it off and studied the number again.
I was pissed. These were their fucking rules, not mine.
I’d also made it clear that I didn’t want him calling me at work. If he needed me, then he had my mobile number. I loved Finn like a brother, but the guy couldn’t keep his trap shut. If he got even so much of a sniff of my business, all the guys would know within the space of an hour.
I screwed up the scrap of paper and shoved it in my pocket.
I’ll deal with this later.
#
“Hello?”
“Do you want to stop calling my work?” I growled. I kicked and empty bottle along the ground, checking back to the garage to make sure Finn wasn’t looking for me.
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “I guess I forgot.”
“Right. Sure. So did you want something?”
“Just wanted to check how you were going. The boss is happy with your work. You’re bringing in some big sales, apparently. Consider this your three-month evaluation.”
“It’s been four,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck.
“So we’re a little slow,” he replied. “Have a good night, Mace.”
I switched off my phone, trying to figure out what their game was. Were they trying to show me they could reach me anywhere? Because I already knew that.
Reaching into my back pocket, I grabbed my wallet and pulled out the half-smoked joint I’d stashed in there. I stared at the photo of Anna as I lit the joint, crouching down onto my knees.
Calm down. Just go back inside and act normal.
I snorted. Normal. Fuck, I hadn’t been acting normal for the past year.
Chapter Three
Leeta
Dropping my keys on the kitchen bench, I sighed as I began to undress. Walking through to the bathroom, I ran the bath. My biggest demand when house-hunting last year had been a huge bath. That was my only non-negotiable requirement.
It was the best way I knew how to relax, and in my job, I got stressed a lot. Nothing beat a nice, long soak after a stressful day. Well, I could maybe think of one thing . . .
I smirked and put my clothes in the laundry hamper, then grabbed a towel from the closet. Back in the bathroom, I switched off the taps and dipped my fingers in the water. Perfect.
“Oh, hell yeah.” I sighed as I immersed myself in the hot water, the steam rising up and filling the bathroom. Instant gratification.
I’d texted Mace to see if he was coming over. He hadn’t replied—which wasn’t unusual. He had his friends, and I had mine. After six months together, we spent most nights at each other’s homes, but we were still at the stage of having our own space. I liked that. I was far from clingy, so having our own places worked for the moment.
Closing my eyes, I felt myself relax. It had been a big few days at work, and I was glad it was over. My closing argument had gone just as I’d hoped, and I was quietly confident that I’d be racking up my first win the next day. They say the first one is always the hardest, and that seemed especially apparent in my job. Standing in the front of that courtroom had given me such an adrenaline rush. I was born to be in the courtroom.
Stepping out of the bath, I wrapped a towel around me just as the pounding on the door began. I knew it wasn’t Mace, because he had a key. I contemplated pretending I wasn’t home when a familiar voice echoed through the walls.
“Leet! Open the fuck up!”
I raced to the door, still only in my towel, and flung it open. I looked in his arms and sighed. I fucking knew it.
“No. No fucking way, Tim.” My warnings went unheard as he pushed past me and into the living room, where he plopped down on the couch.
“Leeta, meet your new friend, Marcus.” He handed me a little bundle of pillowcase from which a tiny, fuzzy grey head was poking out. My heart melted a little at the sight of him and his huge green eyes.
“You fucking bastard, Timothy. You can’t bring him here knowing I won’t be able to say no . . .” My words deserted me. Totally gone. I smiled as a tiny little paw hit my finger. I was officially smitten.
Timmy craned his neck, looking past me into the bedroom. “I was kinda hoping I’d be interrupting something. The way you talk about this guy of yours . . . well, let’s just say the odd night, your descriptions kept me quite satisfied.”
“Eww, Tim, you didn’t!” I cried. “And sorry, he’s not here.” I poked my tongue out at him and then disappeared into the bedroom with my new friend still in my arms.
Setting him down on the bed, I threw on a pair of track pants and a pyjama top. Then I picked the little kitty up again, holding him close as he purred softly. We both knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
“This isn’t fair, you know.” I glowered at Tim as I walked back out into the living room.
He snorted and waved his arm at me. “Oh, shut it, Leeta. You’re much more of an animal person than I am.”
“Then why get a cat in the first place?” I asked wit
h frustration. That annoyed the hell out of me. I loved Tim to death, but this kitty had just been another accessory he’d gotten sick of after a week. With so many unwanted animals in the world, his attitude and lack of accountability astounded me.
“Okay! We’ve established that I’m an idiot. Can we move on?” He waved his hand, rolling his eyes as though I were boring him.
I let the matter drop and sank down onto the couch next to him. Tickling Marcus under the chin, I smiled as he craned his little neck. Timmy was right: I did love animals. And I had been planning on getting a cat. That didn’t excuse what he’d done, but I’d get over it. But Marcus? Who the hell names a cat Marcus?
“I don’t have any food or litter,” I mumbled as the little guy circled my lap before lying down.
“In my car. Food, litter, bed, toys . . . I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”
I snorted. “When are you not?”
“I’ll be back in a sec.”
I shook my head as he darted out of the room. I tickled the little guy under the chin as I listened to the front door slam, then open a few minutes later, and then slam shut again. Tim came running in, carrying bags of cat products.
“Uncle Tim’s a silly boy, isn’t he?” I cooed at Marcus as he tried to nibble on my nose. My eyes widened at the stack of toys. Was that a freaking leather jacket? “How much shit did you buy this thing, Tim?” I gasped.
“What?” he shrugged. “So I got carried away. Sue me.” He threw a ball at my head. I laughed, ducking out of the way.
“I can’t believe you,” I sighed, cuddling the kitty up against me. Oh, he is so cute. “If you’re staying, then make yourself useful and get me a drink.”
“Can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve got a hot date.”
“With who?” I asked. This was the first I’d heard about any date. To my knowledge, he hadn’t been out in weeks.
“Damien, the courier from Speedsters? Asked him out and he said yes.”
“Well, have fun,” I said, rolling my eyes as he pecked me on the cheek. He ruffled Marcus behind the ear.
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