However, after quickly dressing, she left her condo and pushed the speed limit to his house, wanting to catch him before he left for work. She’d gotten out and rung the doorbell. The memory of the shock on his gaze when he opened the door and saw her standing there made her smile even now. After asking and receiving his permission to enter, she stepped in, closed his door and promptly lifted her skirt and removed her panties.
Placing them in his hand, she had given him a confident smile and left after pushing her skirt back into place. She’d stunned him speechless. Hopping back into her car, still racing, she went to work.
Crossing her legs now, she felt the slickness between her thighs, caused by both the memory of that morning, thoughts of Masaun and the pleasure of her submission to him.
Yes, things had really changed for her. The trial was coming to a close fast, tomorrow was the last day of witness testimony, then soon closing arguments would be complete. Where would that leave her and Masaun? Would he want their arrangement to end before or after sentencing? Or to carry on longer?
She never allowed herself to consider permanency with him. That was the reason she never brought a change of clothes to his house. This was temporary and even though she could recognize the deeper feeling for him she had, she refused to allow it to rule her. The warnings of her father about keeping her heart guarded and her mind focused on her career. That caution had been drilled into her mind her entire life. Her father had loved, let his guard down and still her mother had walked away—on them both.
Sighing, she pushed away those melancholy thoughts and gathered the things she needed. Masaun was cooking dinner for her tonight and she was excited to get there. Outside of the sessions and sex, he had become a sounding board to her. Most nights, she brought work home with her and used his office after dinner. She verbalized different ideas and possibilities out loud to him, where he would be reading in a corner. Masaun always came up with various angles or avenues of questions. She could easily see how he’d been a shrewd and successful lawyer in his day.
With Masaun her two worlds—personal and professional—had collided and joined.
With everything locked up that she wasn’t taking with her, she was soon in her car and headed to the home of her Dom. Even though she hadn’t been brave enough to call him anything beyond Sir yet, she did respect his authority over her in their personal relationship.
Twenty-minutes later, she was pulling into his driveway. He kept the garage door open for her, so that she could pull in beside his car—another change for them.
Out of the car, she pushed the button on the inside panel of the garage as she headed out, closing the wide door behind her. Knowing the door was unlocked for her, she walked in.
“Good evening, Song Sparrow.”
She stutter-stepped at his greeting. She didn’t expect him to be standing at the opening of the living room as if he was waiting for her. “Hello, Sir.”
“Close the door, please.” He stepped toward her, but still left more than four feet between them.
Obeying him, she closed and locked the door as she fully entered the house.
“This morning you were feeling a little confident and courageous.”
Trying to read his emotions, she met his gaze and took in the laurel tint of his eyes but couldn’t decipher anything. “Um, yes, Sir.”
“I like seeing you confident. It’s very sexy on you.”
Smiling, she felt the warmth race from her stomach to surround her heart. “Thank you, Sir.”
His gaze darkened to a stone gray, with green threads. “However, I never asked you to bring me your panties, Song Sparrow, did I?”
Oh, shit. She swallowed. “No, Sir. But the last time—”
A single hand raised, palm toward her, cutting off her rushed words.
Damn it, damn it, damn! No one had to tell her that her bold, sassy actions that morning had warranted her punishment.
“Only one of us can be the Dominant one in this relationship. Who gives the orders and commands?”
“You do, Sir.”
“Who follows them to the letter?”
“I do, Sir.”
He gave a slow nod, an acknowledgement that he believed she understood her place now.
Would he order her to strip and go to the playroom now? He still had not moved or closed the gap between them. Other nights she’d find him in the kitchen cooking where he would greet her with a kiss then allow her to change into one of his t-shirts and nothing else. Then she’d set at the bar and they would talk about their day. What would tonight entail?
There was a heavy aroma of herbed tomato sauce in the air, so he either was preparing dinner or it was complete.
“Place your briefcase beside the closet, pull up your skirt and lean back against the door with your hands flat at your sides.”
Proving to him that she could follow his commands, she quickly did as she was told. Once she was in position and feeling the cold press of the wooden doors against her palms, she stared at him and waited.
“Spread your legs, wide.” His gaze was on her face; he still had not looked down to her bare sex.
Stepping out with one foot beyond her shoulder but still able to keep her balance, she waited. She felt exposed, vulnerable and naughty. The scent of her arousal greeted her nose. It wasn’t a shock to her that she was wet. She’d been like that most of the day. The warm cream covering her pussy only cooled slightly in the air of the room. Swollen and aching, her clit throbbed with the need to be touched, stroked and pushed to a climax.
However, she doubted one was anywhere in her near future. Satisfaction for her usually came at the end of a scene.
“Isn’t this how you wanted me to remember you all day, Song Sparrow? Your reason for brazenly coming back to my home, lifting your skirt and depositing your warm panties in my hand?”
Please come closer, she wanted to beg. She desired to feel his nearness. The distance now between them seemed like the width of a canyon. “Um, um…no, I mean yes, Sir.”
Shit, her mind felt confused. Why had she come back to him?
“Which is it?” His voice lowered as he took a step, still not close enough.
“Proof, Sir.”
An eyebrow ticked up, but he didn’t say anything.
“Proof that I’m okay with our relationship. With the commands you give me. I would do my best not to go against your orders.” She was trembling now, not in fear, but with determination and the urgency for Dom Hawk to understand how important their relationship had become to her.
“Shh.” He closed the gap and placed a hand along her cheek. She witnessed him shutting his eyes and heard him inhale deeply.
His touch calmed her.
When he lifted his lids, she saw the dark green of his gaze—the color that signified his desire for her.
“Message received.” That was all he said before he shocked her by lowering himself to his knees before her.
The quivers in her core began again, but for different reasons.
Placing his hands on the inside of her thighs he traced a slow design through the wetness collected there—evidence of her desire for him. His warm palms held her in place as his tongue followed the same path along the center of her thighs.
Staring down at his head before her pussy she moaned.
“I’ve thought about nothing but the sight and taste of your pussy all day. And what method of discipline I would enact.”
When the first swipe of his tongue brushed along her labia, she pressed her head back against the door and closed her eyes. She tried not to enjoy his licking and sucking her too much, afraid his plan may have been to bring her to the brink of climax and leave her there.
But, his actions felt so good, she struggled to hold her response to him at bay. The moment he drew the clit between his lips and began flicking it, she was lost. No amount of strength that wasn’t Herculean would have held back the flood of pleasure that rushed over her—drowning her beneath an erotic haven
.
Her rose and kissed her, even as her body was still twitching in satisfaction. She tasted her saltiness on his lips and tongue. Breaking away from her, he took her hand in his.
“Come, there is one more thing left before we can have dinner.”
On shaky limbs, she allowed him to lead her into the living room. She would have hoped for the master suite upstairs so they could finish what he started, but she wouldn’t complain if he took her on the living room floor. The sight of his hard cock beneath his khakis let her know that he wanted her just as much as she desired his thick, hard length inside her.
When she saw him take a seat in the middle of the couch, she smiled. Did he want me to straddle him?
“Over my lap, please.”
She started to lift one of her legs, when he stopped her by pressing her leg back down.
Shaking his head, he said, “Not like that.”
Frowning, she stared at him. Did he want to take her from behind? She’d thoroughly enjoyed anal sex the three times they had done it since the first, but she didn’t feel at all prepared to take him that way at the moment.
He must have recognized her confusion, because he pulled her down until she was prostrate across his thighs.
The air rushed from her lungs as she collapsed down onto him.
“Place your hands flat on the floor and do not move. A moment ago was for both of our pleasures, but this is your punishment. Your number is twenty, count it out.”
Pressing her hands down, she waited. She knew better than to question him. Besides, she knew she’d earned this action because she had been just a little too saucy and flippant in dropping her panties off.
“One.” She called out at the first sting of his palm meeting her ass.
On and on it went as he went from one cheek to the other and at times landing a succession of smacks on one ass cheek before switching quickly to the other and back again.
When he delivered the last strike, her ass pulsed with fire and she understood the weight of her actions. Her mind was calmer from submitting to his control, however her heart raced and once again she was at a high level of arousal as if he hadn’t just brought her to climax with his mouth at the door.
He stroked her ass for a moment then squeaked it.
Her moan turned into a hiss as the smarting from her backside zipped into her clit.
Lifting her, he ordered, “Go get undressed, Song Sparrow. There is a shirt on my bed. I will meet you back in the living room for dinner, spaghetti and salad, and a game of Checkers.”
Just like that she’d been disciplined, instructed and their evening was back on course.
CHAPTER fourteen
“Counselor, would you like to re-question your witness?” Judge A. Willard Geneon stared down from the bench at her and waited for her response.
Hell, everyone in the courtroom was staring at her and waiting on her reply. She could feel every set of eyes boring into her and even the tight squeeze of the camera as it zoomed in on her face.
She kept her gaze fixed on her witness. Officer Patrick Zanetti sat on the stand appearing just as uncomfortable as she was, however, his complexion was rugged with anger and indignation. She was sure that somehow he figured she would get him off the hook, clear him.
How in the hell he could believe for a moment that she didn’t know. Simeon knew that too, that was why he’d brought the man back on the stand. He showed Officer Zanetti up as a liar, someone who slanted the truth in the court of law, and a violent man ready to take the law in his hands.
“Counselor, would you like a recess? A moment to confer with your witness or team?”
Shifting her gaze to the presiding judge, Kindle realized he was giving her a chance to get herself together. Wipe the egg yolk of embarrassment from her face. “Yes, please, Your Honor.”
Once the gavel had struck and Judge Geneon had called a fifteen minute recess, she sat down in her chair. Her team all began to lean toward her and whisper at once, but when she heard the defense attorney say he was going to the restroom she excused herself from her counseling table.
She passed through the observers and few reporters that were allowed in the courtroom and she kept her gaze averted from her boss. The last thing she needed was to see his thoughts on how she was handling today’s proceeding.
Keeping her head up, she followed Simeon Duff out the door and down the hall. As soon as she spotted an open door, she raced across the few steps, grabbed his arm and yanked him inside, closing and locking the door.
“Hey, what the hell—”
Thankfully the witness sequestering room was empty, and soundproof for the most part because she had some words for the defense attorney.
“Yeah, what the hell, Simeon. Where do you get off, damn it, pulling that shit on my witness?” She stood before him with her fist on her hips, waiting for his response.
He took a moment to brush invisible lint from his jacket and straighten it before setting his gaze on her. “Look, Kindle, I’m doing my job.”
“What job? Are you trying to get your client off on some trumped up charge of police brutality or obstruction of justice or some other cockamamie bull?”
He barked out a laugh. “If I was, that lying cop of yours would have served it up on a platter for me. I’m simply showing the jury that an overzealous, vigilante cop took legal matters into his own hands and possibly added to my client’s deteriorating mental state.”
Her hands squeezed tighter into the fist on her hips and she could feel the bite of her nails. However, the sensation didn’t give her peace or make her calmer but angered her even more because she was doing the act. Especially when she knew Simeon’s words were true. Officer Zanetti and his partner had lied in their reports. They had both stated as arresting officers that the bruises noted in Peter Dashell’s mug shots were incurred at the time of arrest, when the perpetrator was resisting. Apparently Simeon had known, perhaps from his client, or other ways, but he’d waited until the last day of questioning to recall the officer.
“Why didn’t you say something to me? A freakin’ courtesy from the beginning. You didn’t have to try and make me look bad.”
“Ha! It may come as a shock, Kindle, but I don’t consider you before I make a decision.”
Had she really dated this man? Had sex with him? Considered him a friend? “Big shocker on that.”
He shook his head. “Look, I didn’t know. Dashell never said a damn thing to me. Hell, he barely even peeps in his own damn defense.”
“That’s because being a low life pedophile and child killer is hard to defend.” She allowed her gaze to roam down the suit of the well-dressed defense attorney hoping he got her message. “Even for the savviest of people.”
“Ouch. I’m going to disregard your insult. Ramsey Charlton let the proverbial cat out of the bag.”
Frowning, she asked, “When?” She didn’t recall her primary witness, the neighbor who heard a kid’s scream and called the police because he knew the defendant had no children or relative that came to visit.
“When you questioned him on the stand and Ramsey said he stood on his porch watching Dashell come out smiling and looking smug. He said he wanted to go to him and punch him, bloody his face as he’d bloodied innocent children.”
Kindle dropped her head, clutching her chest as she struggled to breathe. She recalled that testimony and had not even picked up on the fact that Mr. Charlton’s passionate declaration revealed that Dashell didn’t have injuries on his face at the time of arrest. However, he did by the time he got into the precinct for booking. She’d missed it.
“Three minutes, counselors,” came an announcement from the other side of the closed door.
She wasn’t shocked people knew they were in there.
Lifting her head, she stared at her ex. “How do you plan to use this?”
“You wouldn’t respect me if I told you that.”
His words were true, but what he didn’t know was that at the moment sh
e was already wrestling with her level of admiration for him. “Dashell deserves to be locked behind bars for the rest of his life, Simeon.”
“Where he’ll be safe, pfft.” He rolled his eyes.
“Where he will get justice, however it is measured out. A mental institution for life is not deserved by a man who abducted, raped and killed three children, buried them beneath his garden and gave the ripened tomatoes to his neighbors each season. He was prepared to do it to a fourth one before he was caught.”
“Well, we both have a job to do. Let’s see who does it better.” Simeon turned and unlocked the door before he strutted out.
The cocky bastard had left the door wide and too many people were milling around the hall for her to do anything but hold her chin high and go back to the courtroom.
~YH~
Facing the wall in her office, Kindle stared at her degrees on the wall. Something that had always filled her with a sense of pride and assurance, now they just seemed like vain papers on the wall.
She heard someone enter her office. Shifting, she glanced over her shoulder to see who would dare disturb her after the hellish day in court she’d had. The tight face of the Commonwealth Attorney met her.
Turning so that she was fully facing him, she said, “CA Harvey.”
He didn’t enter the office any further than the single step he’d taken to be considered “in” the office. “I put you on this case because I had confidence in your skills above everyone else. I don’t know what the fuck happened in court today and how you could allow such a blunder to slip past you. I expect you to fix it.” One single jab of his finger toward the ground punctuated each of his words.
“I promis—”
“Fix it,” he barked, cutting her off and walking out of the office.
Feeling like a chastised child, Kindle moved to her desk. There she collected her briefcase and left her office without a word to anyone. She’d spent all of her adult life working toward the position she currently held and had sacrificed her very soul to gain the exalted status. However, all of her achievements tasted bitter in her mouth. The thought of her career made her feel empty inside. There was only one thing that made her feel whole, cherished and worthy just because she was her, nothing more. One person.
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