Ali’s handwriting, like everything about her, was precise and perfect, but he enjoyed teasing her. She opened her mouth to protest, but shut it and removed her jacket. When she started to unbutton her blouse, she looked up at him, probably hoping for a reprieve. “Keep going, Ali. I haven’t seen those lovely breasts since this morning. I miss them.”
She glanced over at the door, but did as he said. She draped the blouse on the back of a chair. Her rapid breathing was evident in the jiggle of her breasts above the lacy cups of her bra. Much as she might say she was uncomfortable, the hard tips of her nipples pressing against the thin fabric of her bra said otherwise. So did her suddenly bold expression. Opening the front clasp on her bra, she pulled back first one side and then the other, before dropping it to the floor. “Do you like this, Griff?” Her fingers tugged at her nipples and his cock strained against his zipper.
“Now you’re just being naughty. Those are my tits to play with, not yours, remember.”
With pouty lips she moistened her fingertip and ran it over the thick bud of her nipple. “Are you sure?”
“You are in serious trouble now, Ms. Stewart.” He lunged for her but she anticipated him and ran to the other side of the desk where she worked the zipper on her skirt and slowly lowered it, all while holding his gaze.
“I thought you were shy, Ali girl.”
“I’m just trying to do what you want, Griff. Isn’t this what you want?” She turned and waggled her ass at him. Her cheeks, exposed by the tiny thong she wore, still bore a blush from their session with the hairbrush the night before.
As if his cock wasn’t stimulated enough, the memory of her wriggling across his lap while he applied the brush, made it difficult for him to think straight.
“That’s it, Ali. Over the desk.”
“What about corner time?” she said, all innocence and sass.
“You’ll get your corner time,” he growled, “but first I’m going to give you the hard fucking you deserve for being so sassy.”
When had shy little Ali become so bold? She was full of surprises.
Ali bent herself over the large metal desk that was used by all the interns, the heels of her shoes raising her to just the right level for her ass to perch on the edge of the desk, her sex beckoning between her open thighs.
Griff shucked off his jacket, lowered his pants and rolled on a condom. These days he was always packing protection, which was good because they were well past the point of foreplay.
“Hang on, Ali.” He slipped his fingers inside the thin band of her thong and lowered it to just about her knees, then tapped her inner thighs until she opened them enough to hold the thong in place. It was the perfect meter to gauge her stance for optimum effect.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her toward his cock. Sliding inside her wet pussy felt like coming home. He paused for a moment, savoring the warmth and tightness, before he started moving. In and out. Slowly at first, pulling his cock nearly all the way out, watching her grip the sides of the desk, shifting her weight back and forth between her feet, silently imploring him to put her out of her misery.
He slid back in with a firm slap to her left cheek. Then another to her right. He developed a rhythm. Slide his cock out. Swat on the right. Slam his cock in. Swat on the left. As he moved faster and faster, fucking her harder and harder, the swats kept pace. The walls of Ali’s vagina squeezed and spasmed around his cock and he knew she was about to come.
One final thrust and they both came with a loud moan.
He laid over her, cocooning her body with his on the top of the cool desk. Eventually their breathing slowed and he stood up and lifted her up as well. He turned her in his arms and kissed her deeply. “You’re amazing, Ali,” he said when the kiss ended. “Now, get into the corner.”
“Wh—?” She came out of her post-coital reverie and stared up at him.
He tugged her hair playfully. “You heard me. I still haven’t read those notes and you need to do your corner time. Now scoot.” He gave her butt a playful slap and directed her to the corner.
He replaced his clothing and sat at the desk, ostensibly reading Ali’s notes on the Melanie Clayton file, but after a thorough fucking and now seeing Ali standing in the corner with her reddened ass, it was a little difficult for him to focus.
He took a deep breath and began to read. After the first couple of sentences, he was completely engrossed in Ali’s notes and thoughts on the case. He read through her notes quickly, then started through the file all over again, more slowly this time.
When he finished, he glanced up at Ali, high heels provided the perfect arch to her legs and ass, but at the moment he was more turned on by her legal reasoning than even the site of her curvy body positioned in the corner according to his instructions.
“You want to sue this man, Kevin McCarthy, instead of filing bankruptcy for your client?” Professor Dearing looked from Ali to Griff and back again. “Ms. Stewart, we both know that Mr. Griffen has been dying to get into a courtroom, probably since the first time he watched Law and Order on TV. But I counted on you to be a cooler head in this situation and show him that there is much important work that goes on outside the courtroom too.”
Ali glanced at Griff and then back at Professor Dearing. “I understand your concern, Professor. Not to mention the fact that if we sue and if this case does go to trial, it will probably happen long after Griff…I mean Mr. Griffen…and I have graduated. But, we have both gone over the case thoroughly and believe there is a basis for filing suit. If we can get a judgment in favor of Ms. Clayton, then she wouldn’t need to file bankruptcy.”
“And we’d win one for the good guys,” Griff said, nearly falling off the edge of his seat with eagerness. His left knee was bouncing up and down like a pogo stick. Fortunately, he was so close to the desk that Professor Dearing couldn’t see it. Ali wondered if he’d still be so enthusiastic in a few years. She hoped so. His exuberance for all of life was one of his most endearing qualities.
The professor looked thoughtfully at his two students, closed the file and said, “Prepare the paperwork and I’ll sign it.”
Ali and Griff looked at each other. Ali had to grip the edge of her chair to keep from flinging herself into Griff’s arms. Her heart nearly burst with excitement. They were going to win one for the good guys.
Professor Dearing stood and they did as well. He shook their hands and headed for the door before turning back and giving them both a knowing look. “I trust, Ms. Stewart and Mr. Griffen, that you will keep your—um, shall we say ‘recreational’—activities out of the office from now on. These walls are paper thin.”
Ali’s excitement over the case vanished and the heat of embarrassment felt like it started in the toes of her high heels and worked all the way up to her hairline. Her throat went dry and she swallowed hard in order to reply, though she couldn’t think of anything to say. Play innocent? Or acknowledge the truth they all knew.
Fortunately, Professor Dearing spoke before either of them could. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said, looking directly at Ali, “I think the two of you are cute as hell together.”
Ali nearly fainted.
“But we can’t have all the interns hooking up in the office.”
He winked and left the room.
Chapter Eight
“But I thought you were going to prepare the paperwork for a bankruptcy, not a law suit.” Melanie Clayton, her brows furrowed, stared at Ali and Griff. “What’s going on?”
“This guy needs to pay for what he’s done,” Griff said, his face intense. “People like him need to learn a lesson and be responsible.”
Ali studied Melanie’s reaction to Griff’s fervor and intervened with a gentle hand on Griff’s leg. “Melanie, I know we are asking you to change course here, but let me explain why we think this could be a better option for you.”
Melanie chewed her lip, then nodded. “Okay.”
“Filing bankruptcy will eliminate the debts you owe and st
op the collection calls. I know that’s important to you and I can understand why.”
“Yes,” Melanie said. “I just want it to stop.”
Taking his cue from Ali, Griff joined in. “I’m sorry if I made it sound like we were on some mission like vigilantes. This is your case and ultimately it’s your decision, but we’ve done some investigating and we think that if we can prove that Kevin McCarthy was the driver who hit you, and disprove his lie about his car being stolen, then he’d have to pay for your car and other damages you’ve suffered.”
“Does he have any money? If he’s poor, there’s no point in bothering, is there? You can’t get blood from a stone, as they say.”
“That’s a great point, Melanie,” Ali said. “We have investigated Mr. McCarthy and from what we can gather he owns his own business and has considerable assets. Of course, we weren’t able to get access to his personal finance records or his bank account, but we did do some research on his property holdings.”
Melanie started to perk up. She leaned toward the desk. “The calls keep coming. How long will this take?”
“Usually these things take months, but we’re hoping that just the threat of a lawsuit will force Mr. McCarthy to make an offer of settlement. It might not be as much as we can get if we go to trial, but it might be enough to keep you from filing bankruptcy.”
“If this doesn’t work, can I still file for bankruptcy?”
“Yes, this won’t change that, but we hope we can eliminate the need for bankruptcy,” Ali said.
Melanie paused to think about it and Ali held her breath.
“Yes,” she said, finally. “Let’s make him pay. Or at least make him squirm a bit.”
Relief washed over Ali, and Griff broke out in a huge grin. “Thank you for your confidence in us. We’re going to give this everything we’ve got,” Griff said. “I hate liars and can’t wait to let everyone know what a jerk this man is.”
Melanie took a deep breath and for the first time, Ali thought she looked invigorated instead of beat down. “Me too,” she said.
“I hope we’re doing the right thing,” Ali said after Melanie left the office.
“Now is hardly the time for doubts, Ali. But I know what you mean. We just asked her to take a huge risk. I don’t want to screw it up.”
“Exactly. At the end of the day, no matter what happens, our lives won’t be a whole lot different, but if this doesn’t work, we’ll have wasted a whole bunch of her time and added to her stress level.” Ali’s head started to pound. “This sure seems easier on TV.”
“Everything does,” Griff said. “Let’s go home and work on a plan.”
Home. She liked thinking of home including him. Much as she was enjoying their time together, she also knew graduation, the bar exam and the whole wide world awaited Griff. Maybe her too, though she couldn’t imagine moving too far from the city where she’d raised her family. And what were the odds of both of them getting jobs in the same city?
Were they just playing house for the rest of the semester? He’d basically moved all his things from his apartment into her house, but the house would be gone once she graduated. Would she be able to persuade Dirk to let her stay there until after the bar exam?
She hated feeling weak and dependent on her ex-husband. Maybe she ought to look for an apartment.
She sighed. It all just seemed like too much to think about right now.
Noticing her thoughtful mood, Griff glanced her way. “Everything okay, Ali girl?”
“Reality is starting to set in,” she said. “Real clients with real problems. And,” she ventured into the topic on her mind, “I’m just wondering what will happen after graduation.”
They were at a stop light and Griff put the car in park and turned to her. “After graduation I’m going to make love to you while you’re wearing only your mortar board and tassel, though I might have another plan for the tassel.”
“Griff! Be serious.”
“I am serious. I can’t wait to do it with a law school graduate.”
“Is that all you can think about?”
The light changed and they headed into traffic. “I’m sorry, Ali. I shouldn’t tease you.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I don’t have any plans other than to be with you. How do you feel about that?”
Her heart swelled and a dopey smile spread across her face. “I feel good about it,” she said. “But, don’t we need to find jobs?”
“I always thought I’d work for myself,” Griff said. “I’m not cut out for the billable hours life.”
Ali’s heart dropped to her stomach. “What about a steady paycheck? How will you know what to do?”
“I’ve never been a guy to play things safe, Ali. You ought to know that by now.”
She chuckled. “That’s true.”
“What do you plan to do, Ali?”
“I guess I hadn’t given it that much thought. I hadn’t expected to finish law school so soon, but since Dirk got me on the fast track to get out, I guess I should start looking for a job. Mostly I’ve been focused on getting trough trial ad.”
“Haven’t you been focused on anything else?” Griff rested his arm on her shoulders and stroked his thumb along her jaw, sending a shiver of desire through her.
“Oh, there have been a couple of distractions along the way.” She smiled at him.
He tugged her hair. “Don’t worry, Ali. We’ll work this out…together.”
Griff stared at the ceiling, then the clock on the nightstand, rolled over and watched Ali sleep contentedly and finally got out of bed and put on a pair of shorts.
For the first time in a very long time, sleep eluded him.
A man who rarely had second thoughts, Griff’s personal code of honor guided his actions and never let him down. Still, his mind raced. Were they leading Melanie Clayton down the wrong path? Had they gotten her hopes up without much basis? Had they done the wrong thing?
Griff made his way to the dining room and opened the Clayton file. As he read, his pulse quickened and memories flooded his brain.
He was on his way home after a weekend visiting friends. Although he didn’t care to be a bad ass guy on a bike, riding a motorcycle gave him a sense of freedom and adventure that no car could compare to. Only a couple of miles from home, a car bumped him from behind, sending him and the bike flying. By the time he opened his eyes, he was inside an ambulance with paramedics calling the details of his injuries to the closest emergency room.
Although he didn’t understand the medical terminology and codes, he could sense the urgency and feel the pain throughout his body. He wondered if he might die.
After surgery, a couple of police officers visited him to get details of the accident and that’s when he learned that the other driver had sped off without even pausing to see if he was still alive.
Of all the injuries he sustained, and there were many, the fact that the other driver had just kept on going as though Griff was nothing more than a piece of trash he’d discarded out his window, hurt the most.
What sort of person would act that way?
Not even an apology.
Compared to Melanie Clayton, Griff had fared better. Insurance covered his medical expenses. Once he’d recovered, he’d gotten back on his bike and traveled the country deciding what was next for him. He’d postponed starting law school due to medical problems, but after a few months traveling the country, camping in a tent and doing odd jobs, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to go back to school. Maybe he’d learned all he needed to from weeks in a hospital and rehab, as well as hours on the open road.
But somehow he knew he was meant to do more than wander around the country. He had an inherent sense of justice, so he put away his tent and started law school.
Was his vehemence to pursue the man who crashed into Melanie Clayton inspired by justice for her, or for himself?
That was the big question.
Then he remembered something Professor Dearing had said. “
Despite the jokes so often made at our expense, attorneys are not unfeeling robots. We’re human beings and we bring with us our life experiences and emotions to every case. That’s a good thing. Where it becomes a problem is when our emotions guide our decisions rather than our brains.”
Griff read through the file one more time, as dispassionately as he could, then closed it and went to bed.
They were doing the right thing for their client. He was certain of it.
He returned to bed, pulled Ali close and slept until morning.
A few days later, Griff sat at his desk in the interns’ office reading a letter from Kevin McCarthy’s attorney. The guy sure worked fast.
Griff read the letter quickly and then again, more slowly. A feeling of dread tightened in his gut.
I intend to zealously defend my client against these allegations. If you do not dismiss this suit within ten days, I shall seek sanctions against all attorneys (and pretend attorneys) involved in filing this frivolous action.
Even more disturbing was the signature at the bottom of the page: Dirk Stewart.
Of all the lawyers in the city, Kevin McCarthy had chosen Dirk Stewart, Ali’s ex-husband and the man Griff had unceremoniously kicked out of the house.
The threat of sanctions for filing a frivolous suit was probably standard with a bully like Dirk Stewart, but it still made Griff’s head reel. An action for sanctions before he and Ali even passed the bar was hardly a stellar start to a legal career.
In addition, he knew their actual evidence against Kevin McCarthy was weak. Mostly they were going on gut instinct. If McCarthy persisted with his story about his car and wallet being stolen, it could be difficult to disprove.
But more than anything, he dreaded showing the letter to Ali. He’d never imagined that Dirk Stewart, who specialized in corporate mergers, would have anything to do with a case like this.
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