Legal Affairs - Affirmation: Legal Affairs Serial Romance

by Sawyer Bennett

  “I’m releasing Kylie Wynn from her contract on the Pearson appeal.”

  “Really?” I ask with extreme curiosity. “I thought she was an expert or something.”

  Matt sort of grunts and picks at an imaginary piece of lint on his dress pants. “I really just needed the extra pair of hands more than anything. I know as much about appellate law as she does. I was just short on time. Besides… she got a little, uh… too personal with me.”

  Now I’m surprised. Surprised that Matt admits this to me, and I have to wonder why.

  “I kind of saw that coming,” I tell him. “What did she do?”

  He shrugs his shoulders and sighs. “Just made a pass at me in my office. I mean… a really awkward pass.”

  The giggle that pops out is unintended. “What is it with you and female lawyers? First Lorraine… and now Kylie. You’re like a magnet.”

  We both chuckle, and then Matt’s gaze sort of focuses in on me with a somber look. “You were actually first… then Lorraine, and then Kylie. But you were in a different league than they were.”

  His words warm me—that he is at least validating that I was different. That I was more.

  I just wasn’t enough though.

  Clearing his throat, he brings me back out of my rumination. “I brought up the thing about Kylie because I was wondering if you would like to contract with me to help me on the Pearson appeal?”

  “What?” I ask, utterly shocked.

  “I saw the business plan Cal was reading that day at lunch. I assume you two are going to start your own law firm together?”

  Cal and I did indeed decide to go for it. We’ve met several times to iron out the details and, starting next week, we open the doors to Carson and Dawson. We’re each going to fund fifty percent of the startup costs and be equal partners. I’m excited but scared as shit, because I’m risking a lot of my inheritance on this.

  Matt doesn’t sound in the least bit perturbed by my new venture, which actually makes sense. He didn’t want me to have anything to do with Cal when we were a couple. Now that we’re not, he clearly doesn’t care.

  “Yes,” I confirm to him. “We are starting up a firm. While I would need to talk to Cal about it first, I’d love to be able to do some contract work for you. As you know, I really only have one case to my name.”

  The smile that Matt gives me is surreal. It’s reminiscent of the smiles I used to get when we were at our happiest, and it causes a tiny jolt of longing to shoot through my heart.

  “Excellent,” he says. “We can discuss the details tomorrow before you leave.”

  We’re called to board and, after we take our seats, the conversation actually seems to flow as if there was never anything harsh, sad, or bitter between us. It seems Matt has made peace with the way things are, and while I’m still in mourning over my loss of him, it’s amazing to me that we can be together like this… in a friendly manner.

  I suppose that has to do with the fact that neither one of us really screwed the other over. We just came to a quick realization that neither one of us wanted the same thing. So, yes… I’m very, very sad that Matt isn’t my lover anymore. But I also don’t hold it against him. He tried for me. He tried to give me what I asked for, but he just wasn’t very good at it.

  How can you fault someone for at least trying?

  Matt and I share a cab from JFK. It’s just past midnight when it pulls up to my apartment building.

  “Pop the trunk,” Matt tells the cabbie, and he steps out to help me with my luggage.

  After pulling my suitcase out, he shuts the trunk and turns to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  I smile at him, and it takes everything in my power not to reach out and brush a lock of his hair from his forehead. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”

  I start to turn toward my building when Matt’s hand reaches out and grabs my wrist. Turning to look at him, I’m almost knocked over by the look on his face. It’s an arrangement of emotions that Matt never dares to share with me. There’s confusion, loneliness, and uncertainty—everything that would make someone like Matt extremely vulnerable.

  I raise my eyebrows at him, and he seems to be at a loss for words. But then he quickly recovers, because this is Matt Fucking Connover and he’s never truly without his prose.

  “Let me come in with you?” he asks in a low voice that is laced with sensual promise and just a hint of desperation.

  “Matt…” I begin, intent on turning him down.

  But his thumb strokes over the pulse on my wrist, and my body is deciding to weigh in on this decision. “We shouldn’t. We can’t. We’re not together anymore.”

  He pulls me toward him until we are toe to toe, but he doesn’t touch me anywhere else, except that continual stroking over my wrist. “I know. I know we’re not, and I know we shouldn’t. But… one last time?”

  One last time? I mean… what could one more time hurt, right? It’s to say good-bye.

  To make peace.

  To have closure.

  All of these reasons sound so damn good. I know that my heart is going to hurt worse tomorrow because I’ll start my grieving all over again, but wouldn’t that be worth one more night in Matt’s arms?

  “One last time?” I ask, just to make sure of what he’s offering.

  “Just tonight,” he says softly. “But it will be all night.”

  Shivers race up and down my spine from the seduction in his voice, and any tiny thought of declining his offer completely evaporates.

  “Okay,” I whisper, almost afraid if I say it too loud that Matt and I will snap out of this stupidity we’ve talked ourselves in to.

  “Let me pay the cab,” he says as he releases his hold on me. I watch as he walks around to the driver’s door and pays the fare. Then the trunk pops open again, and he pulls his suitcase out.

  Now that he’s not touching me anymore, I have a small kernel of doubt.

  Okay, a huge kernel of doubt. This is dumb, dumb, dumb.

  I’m giving in to Matt’s desire for sex, and what do I get in return? I don’t get a relationship, true love, or hell, I won’t even get breakfast in the morning. I’m scratching his itch, and I’m telling him that I admit I was never good enough to be more than a good fuck for him.

  Those thoughts alone almost have me telling Matt to get in the cab but, as he looks at me, with fire burning in his eyes… it’s game over. My body is telling me that I have an itch to scratch just as much as Matt does. It’s true that what I really want is the relationship. I want to be with the man I can tell all my secrets to, and who will love me through thick and thin. But the one thing Matt has taught me over the last few months is that I also need more than just the emotional bond. I need the physical as well. I crave the touch and the sounds. I relish gasps, moans, and grunts. I have to have the wild excitement that comes from dirty words and rough fingers.

  While Matt can’t give me all of what I want, he can give me part of what I need.

  So, yeah… I’m going to have one more night with him before I close that door.

  And I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it.

  Turning away from Matt, I walk into my building with him following. We ride the elevator up in total silence, but there is a buzzing energy around us. I sneak a glance at him and he’s staring down at his shoes, seemingly lost in thought. I sure hope he’s giving serious analysis to all the ways he’s going to make me come.

  When I open the apartment door, Matt follows me in. Macy is sitting on the couch and, when she sees Matt, her eyebrows go through the roof. I shoot her a smile that says, I’ll fill you in tomorrow but don’t you dare say a word right now, because I’m getting ready to get fucked like a queen and I don’t want you to ruin it.

  She gives me a slight nod, and I march right past her. Matt follows along, and I’m sure we make quite the sight as we head down the hallway with our suitcases rolling along behind us. I can’t even imagine what’s going through Macy’s head right now, but I hav
e a feeling things are going to get loud before too long, so she’ll be able to piece it together.

  Entering my room, I push my suitcase up against my closet door. I turn on my bedside lamp, and the room is filled with a soft glow. Matt closes the door behind him and pushes his suitcase next to mine. Then he turns to look at me, and my breath catches as I watch his lazy perusal. He has run his hungry eyes over me more times than I can remember, but he’s never done it with such exquisite care. He takes his time, checking out every part of me, now that he has the time and the permission to do so.

  A lush heart swirls between my legs, and I hope to God it’s Matt’s plan to hit it hard and fast with me. At least for the first time.

  Matt takes his suit jacket off and tosses it across his suitcase. He slowly undoes his cuffs while he continues to stare at me. I have no clue what to do but, even if I did, I don’t think I could make a move. I’m mesmerized by the way Matt is watching me, and I think I’m better served to just let him direct me on what to do.

  When he steps up to me, I watch as his hand slowly rises. I feel his fingertips at my temple, and then he’s sifting through the long length of my hair. He seems to be mesmerized as he watches the dark locks filter through his fingers. When he reaches the end, his eyes return to mine.

  “Where shall we start?” he asks.

  I lick my lips and try to sound like I have some coherence left. “Anywhere you want.”

  The smile he gives me is wicked, and he pulls that bottom lip between his teeth as he contemplates. Finally, he says, “It’s been too long since my face has been between those beautiful legs of yours.”

  Holy hell… said beautiful legs almost buckle under the sex that is dripping from those words. Matt can see how it affects me, and he chuckles.

  “Yeah,” he says, his voice rough with lust. “We’ll start there.”

  You’ve read enough of my story by now to know that sex with Matt is beyond stupendous. So I probably shouldn’t take the time to tell you what happened next.

  What? Was that cursing?

  Okay, fine I’ll tell you, but I’m not sure I can do it actual justice.

  The minute he tells me he wants to go down on me, every muscle in my body seems to liquefy. I’m on the verge of collapsing, but Matt saves the day by pulling me into his arms so he can kiss me.

  This kiss is something else. It’s a combination of every type of kiss that he’s ever given me, and I’m assuming he’s intent on making this night memorable. I feel lust, desire, heat, passion, tenderness, caring, kinkiness, flirtation, playfulness, savagery, and roughness. It’s all there, hovering underneath those lips, coating his tongue, which in turn coats my tongue.

  His hands get to work, shedding me of my clothes. He’s a pro at this. He knows how to get my clothes off without even needing to break the kiss. He’s a master at unsnapping my bra with just a flick of one hand.

  When he has me naked, he pushes me onto my bed and then takes a step back so he can disrobe. I watch him boldly, and he gives me a show because he knows I like watching him.

  And I know he likes me watching him.

  His clothes drop to the floor, and he takes himself in his hand and starts stroking with long, fluid pulls. His eyes close and he tilts his head back, moaning slightly as he works himself into rock hardness.

  That is so fucking hot, and I’m hypnotized by the sight of him masturbating. When I finally am able to look away from what he’s doing to himself, I let my gaze wander to his face.

  That beautiful face.

  I see his eyes are no longer closed but watching me with intensity, the weight almost oppressive upon me.

  “Spread your legs,” he commands, and I don’t even hesitate in my acquiescence. I’d do anything he told me to do tonight.

  Anything.

  His gaze moves down my body and stares at his intended destination. “Touch yourself,” he says thickly.

  And I do, causing his eyes to go so dark, that they look almost completely black. He just stares at my hand between my legs, his breaths getting shorter and shorter while he strokes his cock.

  He doesn’t even look back into my eyes when he releases himself and murmurs, “Enough. You’re ready for my mouth, and I don’t think I’ll stop until I’ve made you come at least three times.”

  Fuck, but his dirty talk is like the best in the world. I bet if he tried, he could give me an orgasm just by talking to me. He’s that good.

  As Matt steps up to me, a thought crosses my mind. I’m on borrowed time with him, and I want to give to Matt as much as he wants to give to me.

  “Wait,” I say, because he starts to kneel between my legs.

  His gaze snaps to mine, and I almost giggle at the impatience firing through his irises.

  “Let’s make this a little more balanced.”

  Impatience now turns to interest. “What did you have in mind?”

  “We’ve done a lot of dirty things together, but I don’t think we’ve ever done sixty-nine. Let’s give that a try.”

  Matt’s lips curve upward, and there are those dimples that I just haven’t seen enough of lately.

  “You are like the perfect fucking woman,” he says reverently, but also with good cheer, because he’s getting ready to feel really, really good too.

  “No, I’m not,” I remind him, because otherwise, this wouldn’t be our last time together. “But I’m damn close, so get your ass on this bed and get into position.”

  I expect Matt to immediately hop on the bed and get our mouths and body parts aligned, but he surprises me by crawling in between my legs and right up my body until he’s covering me completely, his lips hovering just above mine.

  His gaze is soft, and it reminds me of the time he held me in his arms in Nashville the night before my mother died. I feel like he wants to say something, and I hold my breath. Because I see emotion on his face, I immediately start thinking that maybe he wants to confess his feelings to me. Maybe he realizes that while yes, the sex is smokin’ hot and really can’t be compared, there is something deeper between us. There always has been.

  Matt’s mouth even parts, words ready to tumble out of his lips. His breath stutters, and he takes a deep breath while closing his eyes. When he opens them back up again, the softness is gone and carnality reigns supreme. He gives me a smoldering kiss. He takes his time about it, even while grinding his erection between my legs.

  By the time Matt is ready to give my idea of sixty-nine a try, he has made me completely delirious just from his kiss. I know it will not take long for me to find my happiest of places.

  He arranges our bodies, a master of placing his leg here or my arm there. Then our mouths become occupied with each other and just as anticipated, it’s just a matter of seconds before he kick-starts an orgasm in me. It’s hard to scream out loud when your mouth is filled with yummy Matt goodness, but I’m sure he felt the vibrations of my gratification bubble up through my body, straight out of my mouth and onto his dick.

  The way we pleasure each other at the same time… giving… receiving. Our hands eager to always touch the other’s skin. The sounds we make that urge the other on, or even the acknowledgement we give because we are so very grateful how good something feels.

  We are fucking perfect in bed together.

  Absolutely perfect.

  It just sucks that it’s the only way we seem to be compatible.

  I stare at my computer monitor, trying to finish the last legal memo that Matt had assigned me. I have about fifteen minutes of work left on it if I can just concentrate.

  But I haven’t been able to concentrate for shit all day.

  Thanks to Matt Fucking Connover.

  Last night was unimaginable. It exceeded my expectations. If I had thought that our sex life was amazing before last night, I would tell you today that it sucked in comparison.

  I’m not sure if it was the desperate nature of our coupling, knowing that we were parting ways forever, or if it was merely the fact that we were
just trying to outdo ourselves.

  Regardless, I got a grand total of two hours of sleep between four and six AM, which was when my alarm went off. When I drifted off around four, Matt had me wrapped up in a tight embrace, spooning against me. When the alarm woke me, his side of the bed was cold, and just like that… Matt and I were officially done.

  So what’s a girl to do after a night of mind-blowing sex with the man she loves who doesn’t love her in return, but still managed to still give her five orgasms last night?

  She pines for him.

  All fucking day.

  Shaking my head, I focus back on my computer monitor. With a sigh, I poise my fingers to type but my cell phone rings, interrupting my one true effort at doing some actual work.

  It’s Cal calling. For a moment I consider not answering, because he’ll know something’s wrong. He’ll dig and push at me until I spill my guts, and then I can sit on the phone and just imagine all the ways that he pities me. But it could be something important about our new firm, so I answer and try to sound as joyful as I can.

  “If this about you wanting to lease that high-tech, super-duper copier, you can forget it. I won’t change my mind,” I joke with him as soon as I connect the call.

  “You are not going to fucking believe this,” he practically shouts into the phone with excitement.

  “What?” I ask, thinking he just landed a multi-million dollar case to add to our pathetically small caseload of one.

  “Matt just left my office.”

  “As in he had some type of meeting set over at your firm?”

  “No, as in he showed up here at my firm and asked to see me… to talk to me.”

  “About what?” I ask.

  “He wanted to talk to me about the night that… well, you know… the night Marissa and me…”

  Cal’s voice trails off in embarrassment, and my heartstrings start playing a sad tune for him.