LawyersinLove_Bundle

by Ann Jacobs

  What the hell?

  He picked it up and looked closer. That was blood. He glanced down at himself. It wasn’t his.

  Casey’s? It had to be. But how? Could she have been a virgin?

  His cock twitched.

  No way.

  But she acted as though she thought his definitely less-than-textbook performance had been okay.

  Maybe… Craig told himself to get real. No virgin would do the things she’d done to him with her hands and mouth. Which meant he had to have been too rough.

  He dropped the condom back in the trash. “Come here.”

  “Why?”

  He had to see how badly he’d hurt her, but he couldn’t say that. Craig mentally churned through possible excuses to look her over under the bright fluorescent light. “Let’s take a shower,” he said, pleased with that solution to his dilemma.

  “Together?” Still naked, she stood in the bathroom doorway, a sexy smile on her face.

  “Yeah. Is that okay with you?”

  “Oh, yes.” She raked a hot gaze down his body, lingering on his cock that was growing bigger and harder as she looked at him and he ogled her.

  Her full breasts jiggled as she stepped into the oversize shower stall. He reached for them, then stopped. First things first. Needles of icy water stung his flesh and drew goose bumps along the delicious length of Casey’s body. Craig adjusted the temperature and gentled the spray. He grasped her hips, knelt. Warm water cascaded over the back of his head as he moved his hands lower, urging her thighs apart.

  “Craig?”

  “I want to taste you again.” When he nuzzled the little heart-shaped patch of short dark curls on her mound, his balls tightened with anticipation. He parted her satiny outer lips and blew gently. Her inner thighs quivered. If he’d hurt her, it didn’t show.

  With his tongue, he soothed her. Then he drew her clit between his teeth and exerted pressure. Gently, the way the book had said to do. She slid her legs farther apart, moaned. This time it was a sound he thought indicated pleasure.

  Though his cock was practically screaming for attention, he ignored its plea. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the smells and tastes and textures of Casey. On making love to her.

  Her fingers dug into his scalp, urging him on.

  He wanted her to come. He sensed that she wanted that, too. The way he’d coached her to do to herself on the phone, he circled her clit with one finger while he ran his tongue around the entrance to her cunt.

  She was so wet. So hot and slick. So incredibly tight. Maybe his cock was too big for her after all. How had she taken him in?

  He stabbed at her with his tongue, slipping it inside when her muscles relaxed enough to let him in. She tasted of woman and sex and… A faint metallic smell filled his nostrils when he pulled away. The smell of blood.

  Damn it, she’d been a virgin, too.

  “Don’t stop,” she whimpered when he stopped playing with her clit.

  God knew he didn’t want to. But if he continued, he’d lose control. Hurt her again. He shut off the shower, handed her one bath sheet, and wrapped the other around himself.

  “Casey, come on in the bedroom. We need to talk.”

  * * * * *

  Craig indicated that she should sit in one of the barrel chairs by the patio doors, then sank onto the other one. The one that was farthest away from that big round bed where they’d done the deed.

  He looked Casey in the eye. “You were a virgin.”

  He felt cheated. She could tell from his accusatory tone. She couldn’t blame him. After all, she was a fraud and he’d caught her at her game.

  But she wasn’t about to give up. She’d brazen it out, pretend she’d done nothing wrong. Defiant, she looked him in the eye. “Yes. I was. Did I ever tell you I wasn’t?”

  “Not in so many words. But you sure as hell didn’t act like any virgin.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The gym. The car. Remember?”

  She hoped her hot cheeks weren’t turning red. “You liked it.”

  “Sure I did. But I never considered that a virgin might be so into giving head. Where did you learn that?”

  She wouldn’t let him guilt her out. And she wouldn’t let her humiliation show. Chin held high, she met his gaze. “I practiced with a cucumber.”

  Then Casey glanced at Craig’s lap the way she imagined Lisa would have done. “You’re a lot more fun to nibble on,” she said, licking her lips.

  He laughed. “I’m glad.” But then his expression sobered and he riddled her with a steely gaze. “Now tell me why you didn’t feel the need to let me know this was going to be your first time.”

  He didn’t look or sound glad at all. “Weren’t you a virgin once?” she asked, no longer able to brazen this out.

  “What?” He hesitated, as though he had to concentrate to remember back that far. “Of course.”

  “Did you tell the woman it was your first time?”

  “No.”

  No hesitation there, Casey noted. His obvious use of the double standard pissed her off. “Why didn’t you tell her?” she asked.

  “Guys want women to believe they’ve been around.”

  That made Casey madder. “Well then, maybe I felt that way, too. Why are you so angry?”

  “Because losing my virginity didn’t hurt me. But I hurt you. If I’d have known—”

  “What? You’d have stayed a mile away?”

  “No.” He fixed his gaze on some point across the room and toyed with the knot he’d made in the bath sheet he had wrapped around his waist like a suit of armor.

  “No? The way you’re acting makes me think—”

  “Casey, I wouldn’t have stayed away from you. Not for long.”

  She wanted to believe him. But she wasn’t sure. The man made his living persuading folks to his point of view, for God’s sake.

  “So why are we talking now?” She reached a hand out, touched his arm. “Why are we wrapped up in towels like mummies when we could be over on that bed, wrapped up in each other?”

  His biceps muscle tensed beneath her fingers. “We shouldn’t—”

  “Yes, we should. I want to.”

  “Believe me, baby, so do I. But you need time—”

  “Don’t you dare try to tell me what I need. I need to come. And if you don’t help me do it, I’ll let out a scream folks can hear all the way back in Tampa.”

  He covered her hand, stroked the knuckles with his index finger. Gently. As if he were petrified that she’d shatter any minute. “Stay there,” he said as he got up and strode over to the bed.

  His tone didn’t encourage disobedience. Casey watched him open the compartment where he’d gotten the condom hours earlier, retrieve a small bottle, and screw off the cap.

  What was in it?

  He knelt at her feet, peeled back her towel, pulled her to the edge of the chair, and gently pried her knees apart. The stuff he drizzled over her swollen pussy felt smooth and wet and soothing. It smelled a lot like the chocolate-covered cherries Dad always bought for Mom at Christmastime.

  “Chocolate?”

  “Uh-huh. Feel good?” He’d leaned in so close, his breathing set off vibrations against her inner thighs. “I love chocolate.”

  She squirmed with anticipation.

  His fingers opened her up oh so gently, making room for his mouth to do its magic.

  “Oh, yes,” she murmured.

  His velvety tongue bathed her satin slickness, sending wave after wave of sensation sliding through her.

  “More. Oh, yesss.” She gasped for breath.

  He lifted his head, met her needy gaze. “Tell me what to do, baby.”

  “Don’t stop.”

  He went back to his feast. A shock went through her when he drew her clit between his teeth and flailed it with his tongue. “Keep doing that. Please. And touch me. My—my breasts.”

  His groan reverberated against her hot, wet pussy, and what he was doing felt…in
credible. She gasped as the most awesome glow she’d ever experienced started deep in her belly and radiated to every cell in her body. “Oh, God. That feels so good. Don’t. Don’t stop.”

  Oh, shit. This was what she’d been missing. The pleasant little tinges she’d felt the other night paled beside what was going on inside her now. “Yesss. God, I’m gonna die.”

  More shock waves radiated from her clit to her pussy to…all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. And they didn’t stop.

  Neither did he. He lapped harder while he tugged away her towel and cupped one aching breast in each callused hand. He plucked her nipples gently, then harder. Tugged at them while he pleasured her with his mouth. The pressure let up, then built inside her again to an even more breathtaking level, even as she still shook from the force of her shattering climax.

  She felt pressure, not pain. Never pain. Just the promise of ecstasy more intense than she’d dared to imagine. She took his dark head in her hands, pulled him closer as she strained toward another shattering release.

  Seeing his large tanned hands on her breasts and watching him love her with his mouth were the most erotic sights she’d ever seen. Like a boulder on the edge of a steep cliff, Casey teetered on the brink. Then she tumbled again into blissful oblivion.

  * * * * *

  Sex could become addictive. So could waking up to a brilliant sun rising over the Gulf and finding his woman in his bed.

  His woman? Craig gave his head a clearing shake. And stared at Casey.

  Casey. A sassy-mouthed, super-sexy virgin with seductive skills she’d practiced on a cucumber? Unbelievable. But apparently it was true. He’d been her first.

  An unexpected wave of male possessiveness came over him. He’d never considered himself a chauvinist, but he was glad he was her first lover. He wanted to be her only lover. And he wanted her to be his.

  Not that he was ready to make a declaration of undying love. He didn’t plan on admitting his own recent virginity, either, since she apparently hadn’t guessed it for herself.

  His morning hard-on throbbed against the juncture of her thighs. It wanted inside her hot, wet cunt, but he didn’t want to disturb her rest. A lovemaking position one author had described where the lovers both lay on their sides like this nudged his libido, but he fought the surge of testosterone.

  His brain was winning the fight until Casey shifted one leg, unconsciously making room for his cock between them. All he’d have to do was flex his hips and he’d be inside her. That would be enough. He wouldn’t have to pound into her like a raging bull.

  Right. And rivers didn’t have to flow down mountainsides. Maybe after a few hundred times he’d be able to take sex slow and easy. But he didn’t trust himself to be gentle now. She had to be sore, no matter how much she protested that she was okay. Right now she needed the sort of restrained sex he couldn’t deliver. And she needed sleep.

  Craig made himself get up and shower. The only hope he had of keeping his hands off her was to put some distance—and some clothes—between them. He’d take a long swim in the surf, then have another go at preparing his opening statement in the Ranger case.

  By then hopefully he would have put his fledgling sex life into perspective.

  * * * * *

  Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. My name is Craig McDermott, and I represent the Hillsborough County State Attorney’s office.

  Why the hell was he writing down the introduction he’d been reciting from memory in every opening statement of every case he’d ever tried? Craig lifted his pencil, nibbled at the eraser, and stared down at the yellow legal pad. A sudden breeze churned the pages, made him slam a fist onto the metal patio table to keep the pad from flying away.

  “Damn it.” He anchored the pad with one elbow.

  Trying to write out here on the patio was insane. But he got a stranglehold on the pencil and gave it another shot.

  We’re here today to prove the defendant, William Ranger, willfully committed vehicular assault on … Who the hell was the woman whose car Ranger had rammed, anyway? And why wasn’t he simply jotting down points he intended to make instead of trying to write the whole damn opening statement out verbatim?

  Damn it, he didn’t forget victims’ names. And he didn’t agonize over his presentations, either. At least he never had before. Not since his first mock court in law school.

  Apparently having sex for the first time had short-circuited his brain. Craig stretched out his legs and wiggled his bare toes. His long open-water swim had taken the edge off his libido, but it hadn’t done much toward getting his mind off Casey.

  He glanced inside. She was still curled up around a pillow in the middle of that inviting bed, just as she’d been ten minutes ago. Maybe he should join her.

  No. What he should do was get his ass in gear and finish outlining this opening statement. Staring out at the shoreline, he tried to gather his thoughts.

  A pelican swooped down into the surf, came up with a small fish. Craig’s stomach growled. He was hungry, too. He glanced at his watch. Ten-thirty. Time to order breakfast. It wasn’t as if he were getting any work accomplished.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lulled from sleep a few minutes later by the aroma of bacon and orange juice, Casey opened her eyes and stretched.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” Craig said.

  “Hey, yourself. Have you been up for long?” She hated thinking she’d slept away a minute they could have spent together.

  “A few hours. I went swimming. Want some breakfast?”

  Casey wanted to feast on him, but she guessed she’d have to settle for real food—and the visual feast she got, looking at his dynamite upper torso across the small round table where somebody had laid out food and drink.

  Catching a glance at herself in the mirror above the bed, she stifled a groan. This was not the way she’d pictured herself looking after a night of hot sex. She had the bed-head from hell. Her hair stuck out all over. The wrinkled sheet had left its imprint on her left cheek, and dark circles rimmed both her eyes.

  Only her slightly swollen, reddened lips attested to the fun she’d had last night. The rest of her looked downright ragged out.

  Where was her robe? She got up and stumbled around the perimeter of the bed but didn’t see it.

  “Looking for something?” Craig held out the robe. And grinned.

  “Thanks.”

  Why couldn’t she be half as calm and collected as he seemed to be?

  Not to mention that it wasn’t fair for him to look as put-together as if he’d had a full night’s rest while she might have looked better if she’d just now survived a small war.

  She put on the robe and fumbled with the buttons. “I—Does it always feel so awkward?”

  “Huh?”

  “The morning after. Waking up to face somebody you just had sex with.”

  He had the gall to grin. “Feels great to me. Come on. Breakfast is getting cold.”

  She needed to splash cold water on her face. Brush her hair. And—

  “I’ll be right back.” She made a run for the bathroom.

  * * * * *

  “Are you sure you don’t need to finish up that work you brought along?” Casey asked when they’d finished eating and were lazing around under a beach umbrella watching seagulls dive for fish caught up in an incoming tide.

  “It will wait.” Casey wouldn’t. Every minute they spent together, Craig learned something new about her. It was as if she were two women.

  Which one was real? Was she the bold, brash party girl with a taste for provocative clothes and an impressive talent for oral sex? Or the bashful former virgin who’d needed to cover herself from him this morning, the minute she crawled out of bed?

  Could she be both? The possibility intrigued him. He wanted to get inside her head.

  He foresaw no problem there. Everybody from his first-year law professors on had raved about his talent for examining witnesses. The same methods ought to work on a lover.
>
  He shot her his standard disarming smile and launched the usual question he opened with when interviewing defendants. “Tell me about yourself.”

  The way she described Bone Gap, Texas and growing up on a ranch outside the small rural town, Craig got the picture of a woman whose values were rooted in small-town, even old-fashioned standards. Apparently she’d returned there after staying with an elderly aunt while getting her degree at Texas Tech. That picture didn’t gibe with his first impression, or the one she’d built upon even after they crawled in bed last night.

  “I’m an ordinary country girl.” She smiled, but she didn’t look him in the eye.

  It didn’t compute that the sheltered small-town virgin she described would blow his mind in bed. His cock twitched, as though it disagreed.

  Her guarded expression reminded him of how witnesses sometimes looked when they were walking a fine line between spinning facts and outright lying. What was she holding back?

  “Why did you leave?” he asked.

  “Broken engagement. I decided life on the range wasn’t for me. Didn’t much like the idea of playing second fiddle to a cow. All of the above. Take your pick.”

  Craig slid his sunglasses off and met her gaze. “I grew up in a little town not far from Dallas. I doubt it was much bigger than Bone Gap.”

  “Really?”

  Talking about his family always made him squirm, but he tossed out some snippets of his past as bait in the hope of catching crumbs he hoped would help him learn who Casey really was.

  He mentioned that his dad had died young. She said hers always sheltered her too much.

  Craig explained that his mother had taught school to support him and his brother after his father’s death. Casey said her mom had stayed home, helped manage the ranch, and sewed frilly dresses she used to make Casey wear.

  It didn’t do his ego much good to admit his brother had been the academic genius while he was the dud. And that admission earned nothing more from Casey than the fact that her brother hadn’t been interested in doing anything but riding the range.

  He was getting nowhere. He’d have to switch tactics. Talk about specifics that had motivated him. Emotional things he hardly ever thought about, much less put into words.