Your Honor

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Your Honor Page 2

by Kristi Pelton


  A blacked out Audi pulled to a stop in front of me. The tinted window lowered and there he was—Mr. Fuck Me Tonight. When he smiled, my stomach turned over. He was way sexier than anyone I knew. Out of habit, I bit my lip, until his eyes narrowed playfully; I smiled so goofily I couldn’t bite it if I wanted to.

  He started to get out of the car, and I hustled to the passenger side door before he could.

  “This isn’t a date. Let’s not make it more than it is,” I said teasingly as I slid into the car.

  The smell…his smell… swallowed me. A mixture of new car and sexy man teased my nose and an unfamiliar, tingling sensation flitted between my legs. Unintentionally, I arched my hips up.

  “Everything ok?” he asked with a cocked brow.

  I nodded. “Yes. It’s just a been a while and I think my body is ahead of my mind.”

  “Why has it been a while? You’re a stunning girl.”

  I didn’t like lying. When I noticed the sunroof, I pushed the button, exposing the sky.

  “I had some things I needed to take care of first. I think we should have sex under the stars,” I suggested, relaxing my head on the headrest and staring at the white-sparkly, dark sky.

  “Do you now,” he chuckled, shooting a U-turn in the middle of the road.

  “Wrong turn?”

  “Just an idea.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, I hoped tonight was earth shattering in a non serial killer sort of way. After a few minutes, we darted into a parking garage. He parked, unlocked the doors and got out.

  “Come on.”

  I followed, and though he stayed right next to me, we didn’t really say much. The frosted-glass, automatic doors opened, exposing a Waldorf logo.

  He brought me to a hotel? A freakishly nice one, but still… It was at least safe.

  “Scared to take me to your house, eh?” I asked with a hint of playfulness.

  “No. Wait here.”

  My eyes followed him as he walked over to the front desk area. His body filled out his clothes nicely. My lids grew heavy as I waited, my head spun—one of the worsts side effects of alcohol. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was an alcohol induced decision… of course it was. So what, I needed to live a little.

  “Second thoughts?” he asked, stirring me from my drunken, turned-on stupor.

  “Negative.” I shot upright, wavering once again on my feet. The strength in his hands forced another cringe of tightening deep in my pelvis.

  The heated tension between us in the elevator choked me, and my lips parted trying to catch my breath. I’d never given myself the opportunity to feel this…this desire with any man. I fought so hard not to follow in my mother’s footsteps that I’d abandoned that basic need and desire found inside all of us. When I tried to catch a glimpse of him peripherally, I realized how tall he actually was.

  The tip of his tongue greeted my glance as he moistened his lips, and a smile nipped at the corners of my lips. He was going to kiss me, I thought. My heart pounded in my throat and my thoughts were fuzzy. Downing that martini in a single swig may not have been the best idea. He didn’t kiss me.

  The ritzy suite was luxuriously chilly and a subtle shiver fluttered up my spine just as his hand rested at the small of my back. Coincidence?

  “Would you like a drink?” he asked.

  “No, thank you,” I whispered slowly, taking in the enormity of the suite. The bed was massive. I swallowed the reservations that crept up my spine and found him sitting on the arm of the sofa watching my every move.

  “You know, you could kill me and no one would be the wiser.”

  A gentle grin touched his lips. “Outside of our friends, the bartender, the guy at the front desk and every camera between here and there, you mean? Plus, they would discover where your cell phone pinged over the past few hours and oddly enough, mine would have pinged off the same towers. Then there is the little text that you sent. What was it you said?” He tilted his head to the side. “’Hey. This is me. That way you don’t lose me.’ Did I get that right?”

  “You didn’t respond.”

  “I don’t text.”

  I spun around, my mouth gaping. “You do too.”

  He shook his head, sliding his hands into his pockets. “No. I don’t.”

  “That’s because you’re worried I’ll creep on you when we are done.”

  “It’s not just you. I don’t text anyone,” he explained.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Not a fan.”

  “Well, I’m sure tonight will be so good that those little thumbs of yours will be texting away…chasing me as I walk.” My own words forced me to smile.

  His knees cracked as he got to his feet. He didn’t seem that old. Heat spread through my lower half as he gradually made his way to me. “There are two things I don’t chase, liquor and beautiful women. Besides, I specifically recall a no strings attached stipulation.” He stopped, leaving about 12 inches between us.

  “Trust me, when I give anything, including myself, it doesn’t come with strings.”

  I wanted to know what he was thinking as his eyes darted back and forth between my eyes and my mouth.

  Trying to break the ice, I kicked off my shoes and glanced toward the bed. “Well, since you can’t kill me…” I winked at him and tilted my head toward the bed.

  His eyes darkened as he unbuttoned the cuffs on his dress shirt.

  “Are we gonna exchange names?” I asked.

  When his jaw ticked from a firm clench, I guessed that was a no.

  “It’s ok.” For some unexplainable reason, I wanted to make him feel better about not telling me his name. “We could make up names, if that makes you more comfortable.”

  A low part-grumble part-chuckle worked its way through his chest.

  “And, what would your name be?” he grinned, exposing a white t-shirt beneath his navy and white checked shirt that he hung over a chair.

  This suddenly seemed awkward…forced… as we both undressed…ourselves. “Monica?” I asked.

  “Friends?”

  I nodded. I honestly loved Monica.

  “Fine. Then, I’ll go with Richard.”

  I shoved him backward. “No way!” I shouted just like Monica would. “Tom Selleck was so freaking hot in that role.”

  “Then, I’m perfect.” His mouth pulled into a lopsided grin.

  He really was perfect. My slacks pooled around my feet, and in his t-shirt, with his jeans unfastened, he finished his stroll toward me. Muscles were way more visible now that he was only in his undershirt—a different sexiness than I’d seen earlier. My heart pounded in the back of my throat as he reached for the buttons on my shirt. What the hell, this was really going to happen. I’d never done anything like this in my entire disciplined life.

  Once my blouse fell to the floor, his lips brushed over my shoulder, sending a flurry of goose bumps fanning out over my skin. He and I still hadn’t kissed. Maybe that was better. A kiss was so personal.

  I didn’t realize his hands were near my bra, but when I felt the coolness of the air pebble up my nipples, I gasped. I watched as he deftly navigated my straps off my shoulders, letting the bra fall freely to the ground. My God. My body hummed with desire.

  The back of his fingers grazed over my nipples and it was agonizingly pleasurable. A slight moan crept up my throat. Even though his lips didn’t touch mine, his eyes kissed every inch of me.

  “You like that?” he asked as two of his fingers lightly squeezed my nipples.

  “Yes.”

  He turned me around toward the cushioned bench sitting at the end of the bed. “Sit.”

  I did, without thinking about what he was even asking. There was something about him that demanded compliance. I watched him unbutton his pants and remove them, leaving only his boxer briefs on, which had a noticeable bulge. After creasing the pants, he folded them over a chair as well. His OCD tendencies were obvious.

  In law school, I had learned to maintain a poke
r face, to not show my hand. I fought any reaction to the enticing bulge or to the mystery between us.

  “Stand up. Please.” He added the please after I’d already begun to stand, and then he took the seat I had just vacated. He took my hand in his, pulling me toward him.

  Before I could say a word, his fingertips grazed over the lace on my panties. Panties that Henley and I had carefully selected for exactly this monumental moment earlier in the evening.

  “Sit,” he said again. He meant on him?

  “Like on…”

  He lifted my leg, placing one foot on one side of him and the other foot on his other side—straddling him.

  I nestled down rubbing myself against his bulge, trying to act like I knew what I was doing. As if I had experience…as if. The darkness in his hooded and lust-filled eyes was seductive as hell. I wondered what he saw in mine.

  I sat above him, my breasts near his mouth. When he leaned forward, I instinctively arched toward him. The anticipation of his mouth drove me insane. I wanted him to touch me, to taste me.

  The warmness of his mouth…of his tongue… the way he knew to swirl around my nipple. The feel of his hands as he palmed and massaged my breast. Oh. My. God. I’d never felt anything like this. A fuel lived within his tongue that lit a fire inside me. My hips began to work back and forth trying to create friction between us.

  When his arms snaked around my waist, securing me tightly next to him, a small gasp fled my lips. In a matter of three seconds, he lifted me, rotated us around and laid me flat against the bed, all while continuing to savor my breasts. I swore in my head I wouldn’t stop him. Ever.

  But, then he stopped…I could tell my panties were wet. Drenched. I felt embarrassed at what little it took for my body to be completely ready for him. He began to work his way down my abdomen. He didn’t know me, and I was surprised he would go down on me, but who the hell was I to stop him.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I whispered.

  “Please,” he said with a low growl. “I already hear Axel and Slash cueing up.”

  I smiled as his fingers broke the barrier of my panties. Thank God, I had shaved per Henley’s encouragement.

  “You’re a liar. There’s no jungle,” he said with playfulness in his tone. Then in a single swift movement, his finger slid effortlessly through my wetness and penetrated me. He pushed my knees apart with his other hand.

  “Mmm,” I hummed quietly as another finger joined the first.

  “Mmm, is a perfect description,” he whispered.

  But I swear to God on my future children’s lives—the feeling when his thumb began its perfect, circular assault, was the bomb that ricocheted anticipation tremors through my body. My hips arched to meet his touch. His mouth lowered over my breast and the mixture… My. God. The mixture of the unknown, the pleasure of the two-finger penetration, his thumb rotation, the soft swirl around my nipple. My God!

  “I’m…” I wanted to articulate in some way that I was going to come. That it took only a minute or two to get me there. That I was going to explode by the hands of an actual man and I couldn’t even form the words to say it. This was happening so much faster than it ever had for me. T -10 seconds until detonation.

  “Please, do,” he groaned, reading my mind. Then his mouth lowered over my breast again and with one swirl of the nipple…my lord…my uterus swirled into this century with an explosion of epic proportions. Pulse after pulse of contractions.

  “Ahhh….” I moaned, and when I opened my eyes, his were above mine watching me. If any blood could have crept into my face, it would have.

  “Sweet Jesus.”

  His words surprised me. He hadn’t come, I had. I chuckled uncomfortably.

  “Welcome back to the world as it should be,” he added. “Why the time away?”

  “School,” I panted, lying again, sort of, and trying to catch my breath as his two fingers pulled out of me.

  “Fair enough. I understand that. Come here for a minute.” He stood, pulling me to my feet before guiding me out two French doors onto a balcony. My legs barely held my weight without buckling.

  “Oh, my goodness,” I said as I gazed out over the amazing New York skyline. The skyline I loved. “Richard. This is beautiful.” The night air had cooled a bit especially to a naked, overheated body.

  “Don’t call me Richard. My name is Jenner.”

  I grinned.

  “I brought you to the hotel because you mentioned having sex under the stars. I’ve stayed here, in the penthouse before, and this balcony patio is perfect.”

  The penthouse… My goofy grin turned into a full-blown smile. “Thank you.” It was as if he knew this was an epic moment in my life too.

  I forced my head to stop overthinking what this was. Even if he had done something incredibly nice and even though he was freaking hot and even though he was being respectful and kind and seemed utterly perfect…this meant nothing.

  Two lounge chairs with thick, padded cushions sat in a corner on the balcony. Trying to take the lead, I walked toward them. I bit down on my lip where he couldn’t see as I laid down on one of them. Under the stars…

  I could feel my nipples harden without even looking at them. The wetness between my legs was cooled by the wind.

  “And your name is?” he asked.

  “Lucy. And please, no Charlie Brown jokes.”

  His smile was beautiful as he shook his head. “I never would have thought of Charlie Brown. Lucille Ball is the only real Lucy.”

  I put up a leg blocking him from coming any closer. “I beg your pardon. Though, I was named after her because of the red hair. The real Lucy is right here, baby.” I teased with a smile.

  Why did I want him to like me so much?

  “I’m going to nail Lucy as soon as she stops talking about things like Charlie Brown.”

  “Whah whah whah whah.” I mimicked Charlie Brown’s teacher.

  He laughed as he got closer, and I decided I couldn’t wait for him to nail Lucy.

  A phone rang from the other room, and his brow pulled together. His entire posture transformed, and I, too, sat a little more upright.

  “I have to get that. My apologies.”

  Shocking me, he disappeared, darting into the French doors.

  I closed my eyes, fighting to listen. Was it a wife? Girlfriend? Child?

  “Yes?” he answered.

  Shamelessly, I eavesdropped.

  “Any priors?”

  Hmm. I wondered if he was a cop. He didn’t seem like a cop. He seemed more professional.

  Once his words became more garbled, I turned my head toward the sky. What seemed like a million stars decorated the night. Each one represented an angel…the stars and redbirds…Angels among us. That’s what Mimi and Pops always said—the best grandparents ever.

  As I lay there, I picked Mimi out of the millions of stars like I always did. Whatever night, whatever day, she was always the biggest and the brightest. Tonight, she was super bright for some reason.

  Mr. Make Me Come Just Right was still talking as I closed my eyes.

  ***

  When I opened my eyes, the sun blared down, and I gasped for a breath. A down comforter snuggled around me, and I sprang upright trying to remember the night before. The balcony was chilly without the comforter. And mainly because I was naked!

  Jenner. Jenner! “Jenner?” I said out loud, trying to recall what had happened after the phone call. I couldn’t remember anything.

  No answer. On my feet, my knees wobbled for a minute before I gained solid footing. My head silently cussed me for the amount of alcohol I’d consumed the night before. Another reason to avoid alcohol.

  Through the French doors, Jenner was still nowhere to be seen. My purse was where I’d left it, and after a quick trip to the bathroom to pee, I grabbed my phone. Sixteen texts and three missed calls from Henley. My battery was about dead.

  It didn’t take me long to go from one end of the suite to the other and to determ
ine I’d been ditched. The place was empty. Vacated.

  I spotted a folded piece of paper next to the coffee maker and darted to it so fast, I pulled my hamstring. An L was written on the front.

  “I’m sorry I had to leave. I hope your night under the stars was all you had hoped. Take care, J.”

  “Take care?” I questioned out loud. “That’s code for farewell.”

  I’d never been a jilted lover. Admittedly, his goodbye stung a bit. Not that we would be a happily ever after, but last night was the first time in a long time I’d allowed myself to feel. To want. And now I wanted more. I certainly wanted to shed the “V” card. Knowing how attentive Jenner was and knowing how skilled he seemed, I had really wanted to lose it specifically to him.

  My phone rang, and I rushed limping to the counter with crossed fingers that it was Jenner. It wasn’t. It was Henley.

  “Hey,” I answered.

  “Are you ok? You never called. You haven’t texted. I’m at the farmers market.”

  Shit!

  “Yes. I’m fine. I forgot.”

  “Is that because you got some boo-tay last night?”

  “Hardly.” I slid my pants on and shoved my feet into my shoes at the same time embarrassed at not closing the deal.

  “Where are you?”

  “The Waldorf. Don’t ask,” I said with a threat looming. I shoved my bra into my purse, buttoned my blouse and untied the stupid sides I’d tied in a pathetic, feeble attempt to look sexy last night. “Let me get outta here. I’ll call you once I get close.”

  Tossing my phone in my purse, I slung it over my shoulder and took one last glance around the plush suite that I hadn’t really gotten a chance to enjoy. We hadn’t gotten to enjoy. Then I spotted a bottle on the counter near the sink. Next to the bottle of water was a small packet of ibuprofen, a packet of acetaminophen and another small note.

  Monica, My guess is your head hurts. Pick A or B or both. Hopefully, you’re not overthinking. No regrets. I believe, what little I know of you, you will be frustrated that you fell asleep (possibly passed out). But let me reassure you, the pleasure was all mine. Thank you. Richard

 

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