Confessions of a Litigation God: A Legal Affairs Full Length Erotic Novel

by Sawyer Bennett

  Last week, it would have been real distaste.

  Tonight… it’s fake distaste.

  Mac has opened me up to possibility again.

  “What type of artist is your mom?”

  “She paints… watercolors. She’s really good, but I’m probably biased. She just sells to some local galleries and a few high-end restaurants display her stuff. She’ll never get rich off it, but she’s doing what she loves.”

  “That’s nice,” Mac murmurs, running her finger around the rim of her glass.

  “What’s that?”

  “Doing what you love. You have that luxury as well,” she points out.

  “That I do. I love being a lawyer,” I agree, but then I notice her eyes cast downward. “Don’t you?”

  She looks back up at me. “Yes, of course I do.”

  “Then why the long face?”

  “It’s not long… it’s contemplative,” she says as she shoots me a corrective look. “It’s just… you’re so very good at what you do, and I have to think that has a lot to do with why you love it so much. I just hope that ten years from now, when I’ve been practicing as long as you, I can say I still love the law too.”

  I nod in understanding, because Mac is so very new at the business of law. She’s going to be in for some tough battles and many disappointments along the way.

  Reaching out across the table, I remove her hand from circling her wineglass and lace my fingers with hers, bringing them both down to the table. Rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand, I say, “You are going to be a great lawyer, Mac. I know when I see true talent, and you have it. But just remember… you can be the best lawyer in the world, and it doesn’t mean that you will love doing it.”

  “You’re right,” she says with a smile. “I just hope that I do.”

  “That’s all you can do,” I assure her and pull her hand up for a kiss.

  We sit there for three hours, talking about everything. She asks me more about Gabe and I give her the seven-year-old run down.

  He likes Legos, cars, anything Nerf and Batman. His favorite sport is hockey, although he watches it all, and that makes me—a certifiable sports nut—immensely proud. He despises girls—for now, any Disney movie that has a princess in it, and cleaning up his bedroom. So, I bribe him with more Legos to pick up his current ones and threaten to make him watch Snow White if he’s bad.

  I tell her he’s brilliant, sarcastic, and loves to argue. A real chip off the old block.

  Mac laughs in delight, and I find I love sharing Gabe with her. I keep him so private that it’s nice to brag about my son to someone other than my folks.

  When Mac says, “He sounds wonderful,” I have to bite my tongue because my natural urge was to respond, “Maybe you can meet him one day.”

  But thankfully, I keep that sentiment inside because that’s just a little too soon to be saying that. This is, after all, just our first date.

  After dinner, we take a cab back to her apartment and I walk her up to the doorway. I raise my arm and lean it against the casing as she unlocks the door, enjoying just being near her… smelling her spicy fragrance… her shampoo.

  She swings the door open and steps inside, but I reach out and grab ahold of her wrist, giving her a little tug. She turns to look at me in surprise, and I keep pulling her toward me until she’s flush against my body.

  “This is where I give you a kiss and say goodnight,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her in tight.

  “What?” she asks in surprise.

  “You heard me. Kiss me goodnight, and then I’m heading home.”

  “Oh, hell no,” she grouses at me. “You had me specifically wear lace panties for you, and I’ve been thinking about you peeling them off me all night. There’s no way you’re going home, buddy.”

  I love that she wants me as much as I want her. That she doesn’t always wait for me to make a move. But again, I think waiting is better.

  Leaning in, I give her a quick kiss on her lips. “You are adorable, but I’m being a gentleman tonight. I’m showing you that you are more than just sex to me.”

  “You’ve shown me that already,” she gripes and then demands, “I want sex… tonight!”

  “Are you pouting?” I ask with a low laugh, very much enjoying her spectacle and God help me, getting turned on that she’s not happy I’m leaving.

  I didn’t think it’s possible but her lower lip sticks out even further.

  “No!” she insists, and then actually stomps her foot in frustration.

  I smirk down at her. “Did you just stomp your foot?”

  “I’m a grown woman,” she snaps at me as she stomps her foot again. “I would never do something as childish as that.”

  Bringing my hands up from her waist, I clasp them firmly to the sides of her head and roughly press my lips to hers. She opens up to me immediately, and although it’s going to be torture to have to stop this eventually, I go ahead and slip my tongue in.

  Oh, fuck that feels good.

  I kiss her deeper, sucking up the groan that bubbles up from her throat. I want her so fucking bad right now, but I can’t… not tonight.

  Making it one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in recent memory, I pull my lips away from her. Pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, I tell her earnestly. “Tell you what… how about I tuck you into bed?”

  She loses that dazed, lustful look and triumph flashes in her eyes, making what I’m about to say absolutely painful… for both of us. “I will not be fucking you though.”

  Her look goes from victorious to pouting again, and I want to pull that lower lip in between my teeth and suck on it hard. I’m weak when it comes to her, but I’m resolved… I’m not taking her tonight.

  Nope. Not going to do it.

  But I will give her something.

  “However, I could be persuaded to peel those panties off you. I mean… if it’s really that big of a deal to you,” I offer with a gallant smile.

  She is absolutely fucking hilarious. She jumps up and down, clapping her hands like a kid at a circus. “Yes, please. Panties and bra. Tuck me in, tuck me in!”

  I burst into laughter, letting the pull of sweet humor help to quash some of the boiling desire raging through me. It says something important that Matt Connover can find pleasure in playful banter… even as a substitute for sex.

  I scoop her up in my arms, still laughing, and walk her through the apartment toward her bedroom. I vaguely notice Macy sitting on the couch watching TV, but then I’m tossing Mac down on her bed.

  Following right behind her, I kneel on the mattress and undress her quickly. She helps as best she can but she ends up getting in the way more than anything, so I gently slap her hands out of the way while I finish my task.

  When I’m done, I move off the bed and stand at the end, looking at her. She’s lying before me in white lace, and I love the purity of it against the skin of a woman who makes me think the impurest of thoughts.

  A woman who does equally impure things to me.

  Mac slides a leg off the bed and runs it up the inside mine. I was already at half-mast just from undressing her, but when her foot rubs over my cock, it swells to full length and I hiss through my teeth in pleasure. I grab her foot and pull it away from me, lowering it to the bed, giving her a chastising look.

  “Matt… please don’t leave me like this,” she begs. “I’m dying here.”

  Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck. That is so fucking sexy.

  Hunger for Mac rages through me, my mind almost completely blanking on everything other than the driving need to slam my way inside of her.

  I take a deep breath and let it out, attempting to soothe my boiling blood. “I’d never leave you wanting, McKayla,” I tell her earnestly.

  Kneeling on the end of the bed, I crawl in between her legs. Reaching out, I finger the edges of her panties, pulling them down her legs and tossing them to the floor. I put my fingertips in the center of her chest, feeli
ng the erratic rise and fall of her breathing and the pounding of her heart.

  Dragging my fingers down, I run them over her stomach, right over her pubic bone, and straight down the center of her pussy. Warm wetness greets me and Mac arches her back off the bed, making it very easy for me to slide my index finger inside of her.

  I push it in, all the way up to my third knuckle while pressing my thumb down on her pelvis.

  She cries out like it’s the most amazing feeling in the world to her, and that fascinates me. I watch her face, the way her eyes are closed, her tongue licking at her lips, and the rosy flush on her chest. When her eyes open, she meets my gaze, and we share a mutual understanding in that moment… that it will always feel this amazing between us.

  “Watch, Mac,” I command her and nod down to where my hand has just been sitting quietly between her legs. I start to move… in and out of her. I slip another finger inside and pump slowly, sometimes pulling out and rubbing in circular motions around her wet clit. I finger fuck her good, going faster as her breathing gets faster, groaning when she groans, because it is so fucking sexy watching myself drive her crazy just with my hand.

  “You like this, Mac?”

  She moans low in response.

  “Like it when I fuck you with just my fingers?”

  Her head shakes back and forth but another lustful moans comes out, and I smile in response.

  When I sneak a glance back up at Mac, her eyes are tightly closed, but I’m not surprised. It’s hard to keep focus when you’re inundated with ecstasy.

  Pressing two fingers back inside of her, I arch my thumb over and push it down hard against her clit and with just a quick, circular motion, she shatters. Her muscles clench hard onto my fingers, sucking me in a little deeper, and spasms wrack her entire body. My own cock leaps and pulses almost in sync with the tremors I feel rumbling against my hand, and a wave of sexual frustration courses through me.

  Oh, my God… I want her so bad I’m actually in physical pain. It would be so easy to pull my dick out and ease it inside of her. She wouldn’t say no.

  But… that’s all there is tonight. I want her to see that she is more to me than just getting my rocks off.

  As I pull my fingers out of Mac, her eyelids flutter open and she looks at me in sleepy satisfaction. Standing up from the bed, I walk to the side and lean over her, pulling the opposite side of the comforter across her body, tucking her in. Her eyes are closed and she’s drifting off as I say, “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” she says softly, and then she’s out.

  Chapter 25

  “Are you close?” I whisper in Mac’s ear, flexing my hips hard so I go in deeper. I’m lying fully on top of her, one of her legs wrapped around my waist, the other is hiked up high by my own arm holding her in place. This position is letting me go deep… I mean, really deep.

  Our Friday night date commenced twenty minutes ago and I’m on the verge of blowing already, because this has been way too fucking long in the making. God, it’s been forever since we fucked.

  She nods in response, pressing her face into my shoulder. She licks me, and my balls start to tighten.

  “So close,” she murmurs.

  I continue to pump inside of her, and I can feel my orgasm starting to ignite. “Me too. I want us to come together.”

  “Yes. Together.”

  I lift my torso off her a tiny bit so I can snake my hand in between our bodies and pinch her clit. She gasps, bucks, and then I start rubbing it. It takes only two strokes and she is fracturing apart underneath of me. She calls my name out… screams it actually, and that causes my orgasm to rip loose.

  It tears, shreds, and pulverizes me, and it feels so fucking good.

  I come inside of her, over and over again, and murmur her name, “Mac, Mac, Mac,” until I’m dry, empty, and completely wrecked.

  Collapsing on top of her, I suck in lungfuls of oxygen and try to get my heart rate down. Reluctantly, I roll off so I don’t crush her with the utter lethargy I feel right now after that bone-charring climax. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve been balls’ deep inside of Mac and that right there may have just been the best orgasm of my life.

  We fucked slow and deliberately, and it was the perfect start to our Friday night date.

  Not how I imagined our date beginning, but now I can honestly say… perfect start!

  I have to wonder was that orgasm so nuclear because it had been so long, or was it because my feelings for Mac have intensified? I guess I’ll know as soon as I fuck her again, which give me another twenty minutes… and I’ll have my answer.

  Mac rolls over and curls into the side of my body, and I pull her up tight against me. Reflecting over this week, I can’t help the contented smile that comes to my face.

  Following our first date on Monday, Mac and I spent the week working side by side during the day, and exploring the tender boundaries of our new relationship by night, usually with good food and good conversation.

  The only thing missing was sex, but I was bound and determined I wasn’t going to fuck her until at least Friday. For some reason, it was just important that I show her that sex was not my main motivating factor where she was concerned.

  Okay, that’s not exactly true. I’m a guy, and as such, men are primarily motivated by sex. If, in an ordinary relationship, Mac asked me if I’d rather talk or fuck, I’m going to choose fucking ten out of ten times. But what I mean, is that I want Mac to see that she is far more than just a fantastic lay. That she is someone I genuinely like. She is someone that I have come to care for a great deal, and I want her to understand it with certainty.

  She’s not made it easy on me, though… keeping my hands to myself.

  Even our silly banter is sexy as fuck. On Tuesday, she started the most ridiculous text conversation ever. I was in a deposition but luckily, I wasn’t the one asking the questions this time. All I had to do was sit there, look interested, and object every once in a while. It went something like this…

  Mac: Are you like my boyfriend now?

  Me: I’m not sure. Don’t I have to ask you to go steady or something?

  Mac: Good question. Grade school was too long ago.

  Me: Let me see if I can figure this out. Do boyfriends get blow jobs from their girlfriends?

  Mac: Definitely!

  Me: Do boyfriends get to go down on their girlfriends as often as they like?

  Mac: Most assuredly!

  Me: Do boyfriends get to fuck their girlfriends senseless?

  Mac: I’m horny.

  Me: Focus and answer the question.

  Mac: Yes! Yes, they do!

  Me: Unfortunately, I don’t think we are technically boyfriend/girlfriend yet. We’re not doing any of those things.

  Mac: :(

  Me: Did you just sad face me?

  Mac: Yup.

  Me: Tragic.

  Mac: I know. You know, you could fix this and just have sex with me.

  Me: All in good time.

  Fortunately, the conversation was just funny enough to forestall me getting a full-blown woody during the deposition, and I know I had a stupid smile on my face the entire time.

  The rest of the week was filled with similar feel-good stuff. We had dinner a few nights with plenty of lighthearted conversation and although I walked her to her door each night, she couldn’t tempt me to come back in and “tuck her in” again. I refused, simply because I just didn’t think I had the willpower to be near her naked body and not fuck her.

  One night, we both ended up working late. We ordered Chinese and sat in my office talking about the law, even getting into a heated debate over the death penalty. It was fun arguing with her and let’s face it… she’s hot as hell when she gets angry and her breasts heaved with passion for her cause. And that, of course, made me want to fuck her.

  But I stayed strong.

  Yeah… the week was pretty fucking perfect the time we spent together, with the exception of my battle with blue balls.
I stopped by Mac’s office this evening before I left. We had not made any formal plans for our Friday night date, but when I popped my head in and asked if she wanted to come by my apartment for dinner, she smiled at me so brightly that she would have put the sun to shame. Yes, I know what a big deal that was… inviting Mac to my home. In fact, I seem to clearly remember telling her once that I never brought the women I was just fucking there.

  She sees now… for sure, that I view her as far more than that.

  She sees now, that I am taking seriously this effort to open myself up to the potential of having a real relationship with someone.

  When she rang the doorbell to my apartment, going on now twenty-five minutes ago, I had every intention of inviting her in and having her relax with a glass of wine while I finished cooking dinner. I expected we’d talk, flirt a little, and then eat.

  And then… maybe after we cleaned the kitchen, we’d head into the living room and make out for a while. Eventually, I’d fuck her… several times in fact, and then we could drift into an exhausted sleep.

  Didn’t work out that way though.

  When I opened the door, I was hit with a myriad of feelings. First, foremost, and always, I was hit with desire. She was just stunning in nothing more than a pair of jeans and some flowy, gauzy blouse that hung off her shoulders. Her hair was long and loose, her eyes sparkling.

  I also felt just happiness seeing her… knowing that my evening was going to be filled with more than just good fucking. I’m talking about scintillating conversation, and I know Mac is going to have me laughing my ass off.

  And finally, I felt excitement for the newness of our relationship and all the things that we’d be exploring not only this night, but also in the nights to come. I had given in to the realization that Mac wasn’t Marissa, and while the concept of trust still gives me constipation, I do have to admit that Mac differs from Marissa in so many ways that I just can’t put her in an apples to apples category.