“I didn’t ask for your permission, Vance. If Daniel doesn’t want to see me, he can tell me that himself.”
“Look, Bryn, you’ve caused him enough problems. Do him a favor and leave.”
The idea that she had caused Daniel pain did not sit well with her. Since she couldn’t steamroll her way past Vance’s body, Bryn nodded her head. “Fine.” She’d just come back later.
Bryn turned around and was about to walk away when she heard the front door open again. “Wait,” Daniel called. She turned to see him place a reassuring hand on Vance’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Really. I can take it from here. Why don’t you get on home to your wife and soon-to-be-born baby?”
Vance looked askance at Bryn. “You’re sure?”
“Definitely, man. Thanks again.”
Vance walked inside and came back out a few seconds later, his coat and keys in hand, then paused to give Daniel a hug and a warm pat on the back. “Don’t worry about your schedule. I’ll have one of the juniors take care of it.” With a final glare at Bryn, Vance walked to his car, a black Mustang parked at the curb, started the engine, and drove away.
After several seconds of awkward silence, Bryn cleared her throat.
“Juniors?”
“Our new hires at the firm,” Daniel clarified.
He looked haggard. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he’d gone on a drinking binge the night before. Instinctively, her hand twitched to reach out and caress his cheek. To smooth away the circles under his eyes and offer him some respite from his pain.
“What are you doing here, Bryn? Is Vance right? Did you come to gloat?”
Bryn took that insult on the chin. She’d earned it, but she abhorred the idea of him thinking that. “No! Of course I didn’t. I heard about what happened. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Why?”
“Well, I heard you were feeling bad…”
Daniel shook his head. “No, I mean why would you care?”
Bryn didn’t respond. She didn’t know what to say. She did care. Cared enough to put aside her pride. And overcome her own fears and hang-ups. But how to convey those thoughts to an angry, hurting man?
Daniel sighed. “It’s okay, Bryn. I don’t need you here. I’m fine.” He turned around, walked into the house, and shut the door.
She stared at the closed door for a few seconds. Maybe she should just leave him alone, she thought. But, no, Daniel was clearly hurting. If her prior words were contributing to that, she needed to fix it.
Bryn threw open the door. “You’re being—” Her words came to a crashing halt when she saw Daniel sitting on a brown leather couch, his face buried in his hands. Bryn looked around, but saw no signs of alcohol. Sheets covered the sofa, probably where Vance had slept the night before.
Bryn felt her heart skip. Thank God he’d had Vance with him last night.
She walked slowly toward him. Reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. She felt awkward. Clumsy. Her body moved stiffly. Daniel’s shoulder muscles tensed under her hand, and she waited for him to turn away. Instead, he grasped her hand with his own and rested his face against her fingers, rubbing his forehead against her like a cat.
Unable to step away, she raised her other hand and began stroking his silky hair. He stilled. Simply breathed. As if afraid she’d stop. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and hugged her to him, his face shifting to her stomach. Bryn closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of being held by Daniel. Of holding him. God, she’d missed him.
“It’s my fault,” he whispered.
“No, no,” she said, jerking away. He refused to look at her, so she crouched in front of him. “Daniel.” She reached out, cradled his face in her hands, and forced him to look at her. “Daniel, listen to me. You know that’s not true.”
“How can you say that? You were there, Bryn! I got the bastard off.” His fingers were now aggressively wrapped around her wrists, preparing to push her away. She wouldn’t let him.
“The jury acquitted him. You did your job.”
“My job. Yeah.” He laughed with scorn. “I sure did. I earned my paycheck, and now Malia Blaker is an orphan.”
“Don’t say that. You did what you felt was right. You had to. The evidence wasn’t there. Not to convince the jury beyond a reasonable doubt.”
He said nothing for a moment. “But I knew. I knew he was guilty.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But the jury didn’t.”
He looked at her with tortured eyes, as if trying to gauge her sincerity. “You couldn’t have known what was going to happen,” she insisted. “No one could have.”
“You knew,” he said. “You tried to tell us.”
She shook her head. “You followed the law. Daniel…”
He didn’t let her finish. He stood slowly, the hands wrapped around her wrists pulling her up with him.
“We should have listened to you…we should have listened. God.” Closing his eyes in agony, he tried to turn away.
Bryn grasped his shirt. “Stop it,” she said firmly, shaking him. “By your thinking, I should feel guilty, too. My heart aches for that woman and her daughter, but it’s not my fault, and it’s not yours, either. It’s Winsor’s. We both did our best, Daniel. We couldn’t have known what he would do.”
When he failed to respond, Bryn pulled him close. She no longer felt awkward. Holding him felt like the most natural thing in the world. She pressed her forehead into his neck, sighing with relief when he wrapped his arms around her.
“It’s okay,” she murmured. “You’re okay.” With her eyes closed, she savored his nearness. She rubbed her cheek against his jaw. Her lips brushed against the beginnings of his five o’clock shadow, and the friction caused her to tremor. She couldn’t resist rubbing her lips against him again. And again.
And again. Until his eyes cleared of guilt. Until her mind cleared of any thought except taking off his clothes and hers, holding him in her arms, and taking him so deep inside her he wouldn’t be able to think of anything but the pleasure he felt. The pleasure she would give him.
*
Daniel’s guilt and confusion hadn’t disappeared. Somehow, however, with Bryn sprinkling feather-light kisses against his jaw and cheek, his pain had been pushed into a far corner of his mind. The press of her body and the smell of her warm skin soothed the hollow ache that had settled inside him. Instead of visions of violence and death, he pictured her—them—limbs tangled, bodies merged, mouths finding the hills and valleys of each other’s bodies.
Groaning, he cupped her cheek until her eyes fluttered open. She looked as dazed and dreamy as he felt, and when her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, he went after it.
She tasted like the sweet iced tea his grandmother used to make him when he visited her over the summer. A cool, liquid treat preceding the sweet desserts that would follow. She gasped when he pulled back to kiss her ear and cup her breasts. Her slim fingers gripped his wrists, but not to push him away. Instead, when he flattened his palms, she moved them back and forth to stimulate the tight points of her nipples. He kept at it until her breath hitched and she whimpered his name.
“I—I—” Daniel stammered. I want you. I need you. But he couldn’t say the words. How could he? She was only here because of Winsor. She knew how he’d—
“Shhh,” she whispered, stepping back. “Don’t go back there. Stay with me, Daniel. Stay right here.” Grasping the hem of her knit shirt, she pulled it swiftly over her head, exposing her pretty pale breasts banded by a lacy pink bra. His mouth worked open and closed, but before he could speak, she unhooked her bra, leaving it dangling as she pushed down her pants, taking her underwear with them. Then she fell to her knees in front of him and began working at the zipper of his pants.
He hissed in a breath as her fingers brushed against him, making him swell to almost ridiculous proportions. “Wait. Bryn, you can’t—”
“Of course I can. I’ve been crazy not to.” She looked up at him,
her expression determined, her mouth so close that he could feel her breath caressing him though his clothes. With a tug, she yanked down his pants and briefs, exposing his turgid length to her devouring gaze.
Tremors coursed through him as he waited.
Thankfully, she didn’t make him wait long, but neither did she take him in her hand the way he was expecting.
Instead, she leaned forward and placed a prolonged, open-mouthed kiss against the tip of him. His fingers tangled in her hair. Logic and caution disintegrated. There was something important they needed to talk about. Something huge that had happened in his life. But right now, he couldn’t remember. Right now, the only thing in his world was Bryn.
He gasped when she drew him deeper, the heat of her mouth enveloping him in pleasure, a pleasure that merely intensified when she gripped his buttocks and he felt the sting of her nails.
It was good. So good. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted her. He wanted inside her. He wanted the solace she was offering him, but more than that, he wanted to follow her lead and use his body to show her how much she’d come to mean to him.
Gently, he pulled away from her mouth, ignoring her protests. He rid himself of his shirt and her of her bra. Falling to his knees beside her, he hooked an arm around her waist, dipped her backward, and lowered his head. He took a moment to kiss the tattoo on the curve of her breast. Then he suckled one nipple while he tugged at the other. She moaned, pulling him closer and widening her thighs when he brushed his fingers against the vulnerable folds between them. She drenched him with her desire and he rubbed at her clit before plunging two thick fingers inside her. She was incredibly tight, causing him to grimace as he imagined sinking his entire length into her moist depths.
“I want more, Daniel,” she gasped. “I want you. Please.”
Guided by her hands and demands for satisfaction, he laid her back on the carpet and adjusted their position until the tip of him brushed against her core, then slipped a few inches inside. His entry was eased by her slickness but her body still quivered at his intrusion, all her tiny feminine muscles clamping around him like a thousand fists.
“More. I want all of you,” she moaned.
He gave her what she wanted, plunging himself into her with a heavy thrust. Her eyes widened and she moaned with sheer pleasure.
“Oh God, Bryn,” he choked out. Unable to help himself, he pulled back and then thrust forward again. Pumping steadily, he stared down at her, memorizing the subtle ways her expression changed depending on how fast he thrust or how deep. He kept going even after she reached her peak, driving her to another one and then another until she was begging him to come. To take his pleasure. To empty himself inside her.
When he did, he shouted her name and let her carry him to heaven.
*
Bryn lay in Daniel’s arms drawing little circles on his chest with her fingertip. Her body still quivered with the pleasure he’d given her, the pleasure they’d given each other. They’d moved from the living room into the bedroom, and there wasn’t an inch of her body he hadn’t explored in the past hour, but as perfect as their lovemaking had been, his silence and taut muscles told her reality had intruded.
“He had me fooled,” he whispered. “I mean, I knew he’d probably set up the Sherman burglary. But I thought it was just a rash, immature act. I thought he was basically a good kid.”
“He very well may be,” she said. Good people committed murder all the time. “But does that really matter? The evidence wasn’t there. Not according to the jury. Guilty or innocent, the evidence has to be there to convict.”
She raised herself up on her elbow and looked into his eyes. “Don’t second-guess yourself, Daniel. You did what you felt was right. Bad things happen all the time.” She sighed. “It’s the way of the world.”
Daniel caressed her hair. “What bad thing happened to you?”
Bryn immediately tried to pull back, but Daniel grabbed her arm. “Shhh. It’s okay,” he said. “I just want to help. I want to understand why you disdain defense attorneys so much.”
“Nothing bad happened to me, Daniel. I’m the lucky one.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, the same lump that formed every time she thought of that night.
“The lucky one? What does that mean?”
She hesitated. Remembered how important it had been to her to give him shelter in her arms. Was it possible he wanted to give her the same thing? And that she could actually take it? She cleared her throat. “When I was younger, I was a little more wild.”
He lightly touched the tattoo on her breast, seemingly fascinated by the heart-shaped scrollwork. “Is that when you—”
“I got it before I started law school.”
He smiled and kissed her softly. “Judging by the last hour you spent tangling my sheets, you’re still a little wild, Justice. And I like it.”
His compliment filled her with heat and, interestingly enough, none of the guilt she’d expected. She forced herself to continue. “My sister was sexually assaulted by a date one night. I—I could have stopped it. Instead, I was in a car having sex and smoking pot. I was acting foolish while Carl Pageant attacked my sister.”
She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Fearfully, she looked up at him. He stared back at her silently, his expression stoic. “You’re not going to say anything?”
“Why? You already know what I’d say to that bullshit.”
Frowning, she pulled back. “It’s not—”
“Let me ask you something, Bryn. Does your sister blame you?”
Did she? Carin had repeatedly told Bryn that what had happened wasn’t her fault, but she’d never taken her words seriously. And what did it matter what others thought? She’d known who was to blame.
“Okay, I can tell by the mutinous expression on your face that you don’t find that argument convincing. So let’s talk about something you will. Let’s look at the evidence. Where did this happen?”
She shifted, feeling like she was suddenly being cross-examined. “At a local dance club.”
“And how old were you?”
“I was 23; she was 21.”
“An adult.”
“That doesn’t matter,” she began hotly.
“And where was she when this happened? In the club? A place where there were witnesses?”
She saw where he was going and tried to stop him. “She was in his car with him, but none of that matters. It doesn’t make what he did okay.”
“Of course not, Bryn. What it does mean is that your sister was an adult who has to take responsibility for her own actions. And what that guy did to her was horrible and wrong, but she wasn’t to blame, and neither were you. He was.”
For the first time, the words held some sway over her. She didn’t believe them yet, not completely. But she wondered if someday—maybe—that would change.
She pushed her thoughts away. She was here to comfort him, not the other way around. “Have you eaten?” she asked as she got to her feet. “How about I make you something?”
She walked into the living room to pull on her white thong and lacy bra. She sensed Daniel’s eyes on her and turned to see him leaning against the doorjamb, still completely naked.
“You know,” he said, “if I’d had a clue what kind of underwear you wore, Lady Justice, there’s no way I would have resisted your abundant charms as long as I did.”
Bryn turned her back to hide her bitter smile and reached for her pants. “Yeah, but what’s a week or two in the grand scheme of things? We’ve been working together for two years, and you never even noticed me.”
She hated the fact it still hurt. And that he could hear hurt in her voice.
Almost immediately Daniel wrapped his arms around her from behind , resting his chin on the top of her head. He kissed her ear. “I was an idiot. Completely fooled by that frosty exterior and those sensible heels. But now…” His lips trailed down her neck, biting the sweet spot that melted into her shoulder. “Now, I se
e everything you are. Every. Nook. And. Cranny.” As he spoke, he slowly slid his hand down her sternum, over the soft swell of her stomach, and into her panties. “And now I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I ever will.”
His finger searched through her pubic hair and nestled inside her wet folds.
She turned her head and pressed her face against his strong forearm. When his fingers pulled at her nub, she bit his arm, then laved the small mark with her tongue. His arm squeezed her tighter. He walked her to the sofa. Pulled down her panties and bent her over. When he entered her from behind, her sore muscles resisted. He grabbed her thighs. Spread them wider. Kept pushing. He felt even bigger from this position. She grasped the sofa tightly and moaned.
Once he was seated to the hilt, he began making shallow thrusts. His shaft rubbed aggressively against her tight folds, and all the while his fingers worked magic on her clitoris.
Bryn moaned. Daniel groaned. He pulled completely out of her, spread her thighs even wider still, and started to lick her from behind.
The pressure of desire climbed its way higher and higher in Bryn’s body until she exploded. He slid inside her, groaning at the way she clenched at him, and came less than a minute later.
Kissing her shoulder, he eased out of her, then led her back into the bedroom where he slipped with her under the covers, his large body cradling hers from behind.
After a while, she managed to rouse herself. “Wasn’t I going to make you something to eat?” she murmured.
“Who needs food when I’ve got you here? Besides, I figured I could show you that being wild isn’t a bad thing. Not when you’re with someone you can be safe with.”
With her body still tingling, she twisted to look at him. “So, you’re feeling better? No longer blaming yourself?”
“You being here helps. More than you can ever know. How about you?”
She thought about it. Reached out and twined her fingers with his. “It helps,” she echoed.
“Then we make a pretty good team, don’t you think? Even if you are a prosecutor, and I’m a defense attorney.” He looked at her with anxious eyes, and that expression of insecurity melted away all her final defenses.
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