All In: Raising the Stakes

by Lane Hart

  "So, I'm calling because I need a favor," Joe says, then looks up and asks me, "Who's the cop on this case?"

  "Jarrett."

  "Yeah, the victim from one of Jarrett's cases has gone missing and the trial's set for tomorrow. You mind doing a search for her or asking him to do it? She needs to be in court by nine-thirty. Name is Barbara Donaldson, and her date of birth is…" he flips through the file in front of him, "January eighteenth, nineteen seventy-nine. Her ex-husband is the defendant, Mark Donaldson, charged with assaulting her. Great, thanks Ty, I owe you."

  "The GPD will find her in no time," Joe assures me with a wink when he ends the call.

  My body doesn't know whether to throw up or swoon at his flirty gesture. Unfortunately, swooning is winning that race by a mile.

  "Thanks," I say, forcing the gracious word from my lips. I’m surprised when there’s no witty comeback or smartass remark in response. Joe simply stands up and grabs his suit jacket from the back of his chair.

  "Ready to go? I can call or text you on your cell after I hear back from Evans."

  "You called Tyler Evans for a favor? The police officer who was shot by the asshole you defended? Oh, and the guy you dumped all his dirty laundry on while he was on the stand?" I ask in amazement. Of course I also know Police Officer Tyler Evans. How could I forget him, when he was one of the officers who showed up on my family's doorstep telling us the devastating news that my sister had finally been found after she'd been missing for thirteen months, but that she'd died minutes later in childbirth.

  "Yeah," Joe nods in the affirmative and waves a dismissive hand through the air. "He's a friend, and Jess, my former legal assistant’s, husband. All the rest is ancient history."

  "Oh, so you didn't sleep with that assistant?" I ask, then almost slap my palm over my mouth in shock at the words leaving it.

  Joe's arm, that he was in the process of slipping into his jacket, freezes in mid-air. Blinking his beautiful eyes at me, he too seems rather surprised by my question, but only for an instant. "I didn't know you were keeping a tally of who I sleep with, but no, Jess has never been on that list. And Lacy wasn't really my assistant. She was just…a temporary fill-in."

  "Sorry, it's none of my business," I say quickly.

  "Right," he replies in agreement. "Now give me your number, so I can let you know when I hear back from Tyler."

  I rattle off the digits and he enters them into his contacts as we walk together to the elevator. When the door shuts behind us, I could kick myself in my own ass for getting in a confined space with him. His wonderful cedar and citrus smell is all I can breathe, and it causes some sort of strange, warming sensation in my lower belly.

  To distract myself from looking at him I pull my phone out of my purse and text Candace that I’m on my way, asking her if Drew has already had dinner. Thankfully, the elevator ride from hell finally ends moments later and I’m on my way out of the courthouse door to my car.

  "Have a good night, Katie Kat," Joe says when he goes in the opposite direction. For a split second I let myself think about what it would've been like to say yes to drinks with him before I do the responsible thing. I climb in my car and head home to my little boy.

  Chapter Two

  Joe

  Why does that woman hate me so damn much? At least we've finally had one conversation where she didn't call me a cocky bastard. I have no doubt she thought it, but at least she'd kept the words to herself.

  I go to my favorites in my phone to call Lacy on the drive home. I wish she still lived with me instead of an hour and a half away in Charlotte. She’s my best friend, and for the first time in my life, I don't feel half empty, but rather half-full and optimistic. Her unexpected love somehow managed to fill up the majority of the cup that's been pretty fucking empty my entire life. I'm not in love with her. I know that, and Lacy knows that, but I do love the woman and miss her. The two of us just happen to...click, in and out of bed. If I believed in something as ridiculous as soulmates, then I'd say she’s mine. Is it strange that her boyfriend and my good friend Will still shares her with me? To some people maybe so, but it works for us. At least for now.

  "Hey, Joe," she answers right away.

  "Hey, Lace. How ya feeling?" I ask, picturing her stretched out on their couch with a hand resting on top of her growing belly.

  "Ugh, I was sick again this morning and have been a little queasy all day, even though the doctor promised me that my second trimester would be easier. Work is awesome, but I'm starting to look like a whale on camera. How was your day?"

  "I love your little belly. I'm sure you're not even close to being whale size. Things are good here. I stayed late tonight to help Katie with a few calls. The fact that she asked me to do something for her and thanked me instead of insulting me for once is some sort of progress in wooing her, I guess."

  "Yeah, if she didn't tell you to fuck off, I'd say that's progress," she snorts.

  "How's Will holding up?"

  She sighs. "It's going to be a long three and a half more months. For all of us."

  "Yeah it is," I agree. I feel the same way. Months seem like an eternity as I wait to find out whether or not I’m the father of her child. What started out as an incredibly hot threesome turned foursome has now become an unfortunate episode of the Maury Povich show. Sex has consequences no matter how fun and carefree it starts out, but I don’t blame Lacy. We were all irresponsible, and after her mother’s death, Lacy’s birth control oversight led to her getting pregnant. Now there’s a one-in-four chance that I’m the father.

  "You coming down to stay with us this weekend?" she asks, and I smile at the hopeful tone in her voice.

  "Unfortunately no. They're making me go to a boring ass seminar on how to prosecute homicides. But at least it's in warm, sunny Florida, and all expenses are on the state."

  "Murders? Damn, you're moving up already, huh?"

  "Eventually. Both prosecutors on the homicide team are retiring in a few months, so they want me to start training up to fill one of the spots. It's not like we have many murders in this city, maybe a dozen homicides a year, with only about half unsolved. It should be fun."

  "Regret switching sides?" she asks, referring to my days as a criminal defense attorney.

  "Hell no. I wish I could go back and prosecute some of the bastards I represented." When I decided I wanted to become a defense attorney, my goal was to help good people who may have had a rough start in life or simply made stupid decisions but deserve second chances. What I realized after practicing for several years was that most defendants wanted me to pull off a miraculous third, fourth, or even fifth chance that they don’t deserve, since they can't learn from their mistakes.

  "And another benefit is now you get to see a certain redhead all day long," Lacy adds.

  "Exactly." Even if the redhead hates my guts and flees like a bat out of hell whenever I approach her.

  I pull up in the driveway of my modest ranch home, and there's no ignoring the yellow and black Camaro already there. Or the blonde man leaning against the driver side. Ah dammit.

  "What's wrong?" Lacy asks after hearing my groan.

  "I just got home and Chad's here."

  "And that's a bad thing, why? I thought you two have been hanging out almost every night lately."

  "Because…fuck. I'll end up giving in like all the nights before because I'm a horny bastard, but then I'll feel all guilty and I'm pretty sure he wants me to do...more. Why can't everything be as easy as me and you?" I ask her.

  "I know, right?" She laughs. "At least Zack's no longer being an ass to me. Since he's settled down with Natalie he's actually cordial, which is a nice change from him yelling at me and calling me a slut. He even sounds like he'll be okay if the baby is his."

  "I bet a part of him probably wants to be the father and is pissed he might not be. I swear, it's like some macho, my seed is stronger thing, ‘cause I feel the same way. Hell, I know Will does, too."

  "Yeah, he rea
lly wants it...to be his…" I hear her sniffle when she starts crying.

  "Oh, Lace, hang up and take Will to bed to get your mind off of everything. You'll both feel better."

  "Okay. Thanks, Joe. Love you."

  "Love you, too," I tell her then slide the phone back into my pants pocket.

  Climbing out of my SUV, I ready myself for the inevitable.

  "Hey," Chad says when I approach. I still remember that first day Lacy met him in my office. She was quick to point out his resemblance to a Ken doll. If he ditched his dark suit pants and wrinkled dress shirt, all the surfer boy would need is a pair of sunglasses and board-shorts to fit the part. I do know for a fact that this Ken is definitely anatomically correct, hence my hesitation.

  "Hey," I reply, and just that one word sounds heavy with exhaustion, frustration, and confusion.

  "You look stressed the hell out."

  I nod in the affirmative. "Yeah, the state earned every fucking penny they paid me today," I tell him as I fidget with the keys in my hand, not knowing what else to say.

  "You up for company tonight?" he asks, sounding somewhat hesitant, yet doesn't miss the chance to throw out the innuendo. Based on his wordage I know he means more than coming in for a beer and watching prime time television or a sporting event. That’s how most of these nights of ours started, innocent enough until his mouth found its way around my cock more often than the rims of those bottles of alcohol.

  And there goes my morality Lady Justice, the blindfolded bitch. She’s holding a set of scales in my conscience yet again. On the one hand, my cock is yelling at me that it wants to get off, while on the other side my mind is calling me a homo. Although technically the correct term would be bisexual. I prefer women, without a fucking doubt. But when the opportunity for a blowjob from Chad presents itself, well, the overwhelming pleasure he gives me feels the exact same as being with a woman. Besides, he’s a good friend and we pretty much do everything else together. Any woman, or hell, even a straight man would say that his tall and lean athletic build combined with his preppy, pretty boy good looks put him in the goddamn-he's-hot territory. But my physical attraction to him has more to do with knowing my dick's about to go in his mouth than how his black suit pants hug his tight, perfect ass. Mostly.

  I know I'm on a downward spiral, and soon it's going to bottom out. Hopefully not literally. The problem is that what started out five months ago as both of us just getting off because we're lonely, doesn’t seem as casual for Chad as it is for me. I also don't give nearly as much as I receive in this bizarre experimental relationship, the first man-on-man one for both of us. But for some reason, I haven’t ended it, either.

  "Come on," I tell him. I’m already undoing my tie, ready to take my hot, constraining suit off when I unlock my front door. "I need to cool off in the shower a minute," I tell Chad on my way to the master bedroom. "You know you can help yourself to a beer or anything else in the fridge."

  I pull my clothes off and toss them as I go until I’m standing naked under the streaming water, the temperature set just above ice cold. Nope, that doesn't help. My eager dick is still up and ready to get sucked. Blowjobs are my Kryptonite. They feel too damn good to pass up. I'd likely sell my soul for a lifetime supply of the bastards, so what's the harm in putting my cock in another man's willing mouth a few times a month? Or multiple times a week. Fine, let's do this, I grumble to myself in defeat, literally growing hornier by the minute.

  I quickly finish washing and then towel off before returning to the bedroom. Chad’s stripped down naked, sitting on the edge of the bed, obviously very happy to be here. I'm not sure whether I should be flattered that I can make him swell to capacity without touching him, or be concerned. When his eyes lower with my approach, I realize just how hypocritical that thought was.

  It doesn't take me saying or doing anything else before he drops to his knees. As soon as he wraps his hand tightly around the base of my aching length, all the air rushes out of my lungs in anticipation of what's to come. He flicks just the tip of his tongue over the head of my cock and pulls back. Realizing he's gonna make me either beg for it or force him—Maybe both—I mutter a curse. He knows I get off on being in control. Nice and easy isn't my style. Hell, just thinking about all the times Lacy has let me tie her up, gag her and take her any damn way I want is almost enough to make me come.

  "Please," I say, deciding to play nice with him first but really hoping it doesn't work, so we can go the rough route.

  "Please what?" Chad asks. His teasing gray eyes look up expectantly at me before he offers another quick lick.

  "Suck my cock."

  His mouth finally seals around my entire swollen head and sucks; his tongue lapping up the bead of moisture from my dripping slit. I should've known it was too good to last. He pulls back again. "Like that?"

  "God yes," I groan. Now when his mouth latches around me, he makes an entire trip up and down my shaft, sucking me hard. I almost cry when my cock slips from his mouth.

  "What are you gonna do for me?" he asks.

  Ah fuck. He wants to bargain with me. But when he leans forward and sucks me a little longer, counter stroking me in his fist, I'm ready to cave.

  "Anything," I gasp, my hips involuntarily rocking toward his swollen lips.

  "Anything?" he repeats with a raised blond eyebrow. "You gonna finally suck my cock?"

  Shit. I'm so hard up right now I actually consider it, but only for a second. I shake my head, words temporarily failing me. "No."

  He licks and sucks on my balls, manipulating them in the best possible way.

  "Fuck me?"

  "No." That response comes out quicker than the last. It doesn't deter Chad. In fact, I'm sure he knew both were pretty much off the table. Instead of stopping, his mouth gets busy working me over, both of my hands in his hair guiding him. My eyes close automatically, and then it’s easier to pretend it’s someone else's mouth. Lacy is right, though, the man knows what the hell he’s doing. Since he has a cock, he’s a fucking pro at sucking one. He knows exactly how to stroke mine, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure while simultaneously caressing my balls. With each trip his mouth makes up and down my dick, I lose a little more of my inhibitions and my homophobia. My body likes what he’s doing, and at the moment, that’s all that fucking matters. It doesn't take long before my release starts building. Then the asshole suddenly stops again.

  "You have got to be fucking kidding!" I exclaim, grasping his hair harder to make him keep going.

  "Fuck me with the dildo and jerk me off?" he asks quickly, knowing he has me.

  "Fine," I growl, pulling his head forward with one hand and grabbing my shaft to rub the drops of pre-cum over his lips with the other. "But you better not take your goddamn mouth off of my cock again before I come in it."

  "Yes, sir," he replies with a triumphant smile before opening wide. I frantically shove my cock down his warm, wet throat over and over again, gripping his hair tighter as I really start to fuck his mouth. Looking down, okay, so not only does it feel incredible, but I like seeing this man on his knees for me, while I force him to suck my cock. It's something akin to an ego trip or an adrenaline rush. He always knows exactly what I need, and for some strange reason, Chad likes pleasuring me. At this very moment, he’s moaning because he's turned on and approves of me taking control. Those vibrations from his wonderful hums travel up and down my length. Knowing he would not only let me do anything I want to him, but like it, is a heady feeling.

  Dominating him gives me that high that I crave, similar to the one when I'm with Lacy. I like knowing they're mine and that they trust me enough to give themselves to me. But sometimes, after it's all over and I'm alone again, I crave more of the intimacy with them. I even start to panic worrying that someday I'll lose one or both of them. They're all I have, so I guess being in control while we're together gives me the illusion that I have the power to make them stay with me. Fuck, I know I don't, and I'm well aware that both rel
ationships are toxic. Temporary even. I can practically hear the seconds ticking off the goddamn clock.

  “Take every fucking inch...and suck me harder," I order Chad, pressing his head forward. "So…damn…close.” I need the release. The distraction. The only pleasure I've ever known.

  I don't let up until Chad's mouth meets the base of my cock. Even though he gags, he increases his suction, deep throating me while his hand squeezes my balls, finally catapulting me into ecstasy.

  "Oh God," I groan when the first shuddering wave of bliss leaves my body. Cum pulses into Chad's mouth at the same time. He doesn't hesitate to swallow it all, milking every last drop of pleasure from me. Fuck, it feels good! Oh, but now that it's over, it's my turn to give, tit for tat and all that. Drunk on endorphins, I’ll cross lines I never thought I would.

  "Taste my cock, Joe. You might even like it," Chad says into the silence when he gets to his feet. After he wipes the saliva from his sensual lips, he reaches down to stroke his own dick that looks so hard it has to be hurting.

  "No."

  "You just don't want to bow down and submit to another man. Hell, I'll lay down on the bed if that'd make you feel better."

  Is that my hang up? I sure as fuck don't mind worshiping a woman on my knees. Actually, I always go down on Lacey when she’s tied up. It's usually because I have the urge to eat her when she's laid out and restrained by me, not because she asks.

  But no, I don't think that's the only problem here. I just can't imagine putting another man's cock in my mouth. "Not gonna happen," I tell him.

  "I would give anything for a goddamn blowjob," he grumbles as he climbs on the bed.

  "Then just go out with a woman, or a man who's willing."

  "Fuck that," he scoffs. "You know how much wining and dining it takes to get most women on their knees. It's exhausting. And the idea of getting that personal with another man just doesn't do it for me. This is definitely not something I want getting out in the rumor mill, either."