HotShot Lawyer

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HotShot Lawyer Page 8

by Helen Vera


  “Really? So this is not some ploy to get me into bed with you? Because every time we’re in the same room, all you want to do is fuck me.”

  He raises a sexy eyebrow in response and stops playing with the salt shaker. “Okay. First of all, no, this is not some evil scheme to trick you into fucking me. And speaking of fucking...” He leans closer to the table, his mercury eyes burning into mine. “Why the hell do you freak out and ask me to leave every time I fuck you? Does it have something to do with your late husband?”

  I look away and wrap my fingers around my wine glass. “No. Not really. Andrew and I were separated for more than a year before he died. We were basically living two separate lives. I thought our daughter would sort of make our separation more amicable, but I was wrong.”

  Jax reaches out and touches my left hand. “It must be tough being a single mother.”

  “Tough is an understatement. Try impossible. Don’t get me wrong, I love Lucy, but sometimes things can get a little overwhelming. I try to maintain a balance in terms of tough love and spoiling her like a princess, but it’s freaking hard.”

  “Yeah. I can only imagine.” He says, stroking the palm of my hand. His touch sends electricity coursing through my veins. A tall, lanky waiter shows up with our food and sadly interrupts our intimate moment. The plates look and smell delicious and the presentation is flawless.

  We dig into our food and eat in silence for a while. It starts to rain, so the people dining outdoors quickly rush inside. I take another bite of meat and enjoy the way it melts like butter in my mouth. Jax steals a piece of lamb chop from my plate and replaces it with two slices of pizza. I glance around the crowded restaurant and notice a couple of women staring at him. They keep on stealing glances in our direction while we eat. I ignore them for the time being and concentrate on our dinner and the way Jax makes me feel now that we’re sharing a meal instead of an office.

  “So, how’s the food?”

  “It’s beyond amazing,” I tell him. “You know, restaurant hopping was actually my thing. I used to write a food blog and critique the food and all that jazz.”

  “Really? Sounds like an interesting hobby.”

  “Yeah. What about you? Do you have any hidden talents or hobbies?”

  He grins. “I used to practice fencing.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Don’t give me that look.” He laughs. “No one was stabbed to death in case you’re wondering.”

  “So I take it you have a thing for swords?”

  “Yes.” He nods. “Japanese swords. I’ve been collecting them for years.”

  “Please tell me you don’t have a sword in your office.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” He replies. “You should drop by my law firm sometime. I’d love to show it to you.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.

  I laugh and cover my mouth right after. It still feels weird to laugh out loud like that. “You sound like such a geek. You probably have a lightsaber stashed somewhere in your bedroom.”

  He takes a sip from his wine glass and shakes his head no. “Nah. Lightsabers are for nerds. Do I look like a nerd to you?”

  “You look like someone who needs to take a chill pill from time to time.” I tease.

  “Funny.” He cocks an eyebrow at me. “By the way, I have a question for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “How many psychotherapists does it take to change a light bulb?”

  “Umm...I don’t know. Twenty?”

  “Just one, so long as the light bulb wants to change.”

  I burst out laughing. Jax Knight made me laugh twice so far. “Nice one. Unfortunately, I don’t know any lawyer jokes to share with you.”

  “That’s okay. Lawyer jokes are lame anyway.”

  Sheets of rain pelt the windows as we finish our main course. I wipe the corner of my mouth with a napkin as the waiter clears out our plates. Jax asks for the dessert menu and leans back in his velvet chair. He stares at me like I’m a work of art he’s trying to analyze. I wonder what happened to him to make him such a volatile mixture of cockiness, anger, and charm. What’s really hidden behind those rebellious eyes?

  “What?” I ask.

  “You look like you’re having a good time. Are you?” He sounds like he already knows the answer, but his ego wants to hear it anyway.

  “I honestly had no expectations going into this dinner, but the restaurant turned out to be great and the company’s not too shabby either.”

  “Why thank you.” He smoothes his hands over his gray shirt. “You really know how to inflate a man’s ego.”

  “Your ego does not need inflating. It’s already bigger than your...”

  My voice trails off as I suddenly realize what I’m about to say.

  “Come on, finish your sentence,” Jax smirks devilishly.

  I blush and get flustered. My right hand reaches for the wine, but he snatches my glass and puts it next to his plate. “Fine. I was going to say cock.” I whisper the last word so no one can hear me.

  “I’m sorry, what?” The bastard pretends not to hear me.

  “C-o-c-k.” I spell it out. He laughs and hands me back my glass.

  “What do they call this? A Fried slip?”

  The twinkle in his eyes told me he was teasing me again. “Freudian slip.” I correct him anyway.

  He smiles like a Cheshire cat. “So, you think I have a massive cock? Hmm...good to know.”

  “Shut up.”

  I suddenly feel his foot caressing mine under the table. I gasp and glance around the lively restaurant. “Jax. Stop it.”

  He gives me an innocent look. “Using such language in my presence warrants another punishment. Unless of course, you don’t want to be touched.”

  He stops playing footsie and raises a questioning eyebrow instead. I raise the glass of Merlot to my lips and take a long, leisurely sip. Liquid courage is sometimes the best kind of courage. “What do you want me to say? That I want you to touch me again? I do. I’m just...scared.” I blurt out. “There. I said it.”

  “Scared of what?” He asks in a more serious tone.

  “Scared that you may not reciprocate those feelings.”

  He chugs down the rest of his wine and takes a deep breath. I know what he’s going to say. He’s going to apologize again for leading me on. He’s going to tell me that he felt sorry for me, and that’s why he hooked up with me. I’m nothing more than a pity fuck to him. The poor widow who’s sexually frustrated and easily seduced.

  “Vivian, I speak on behalf of my cock when I say that we both want you. We want to punish you and protect you.” He says. “Good, you’re smiling.” His fingers reach out to touch my arm. “I do fucking want you. I’ve been thinking about you nonstop, woman.”

  My heart begins to pound like a loud drum in my ears. “You do?” I stutter.

  He nods and raises my hand to his delectable lips. “Damn right I do. I bet everyone in this room wants to have you.” He kisses my hand and his tongue darts out to lick my wrist. His erotic tongue sends waves of pleasure to my clit. I feel my arousal pooling between my legs. Did I somehow end up in a romance novel?

  We get interrupted by the waitress for the second time tonight. Jax keeps a possessive hand on my arm as we order dessert. We decide to share a peach and blackberry cobbler, so he moves to sit beside me. I can still feel his kiss like burning embers on my skin. He smells like amber musk up close and I can’t help but take a whiff.

  “Cold?” He asks, draping his long arm on the back of my chair.

  His face is so close, I can taste the wine on his breath. “No. Just looking forward to dessert.”

  “Me too.” His hooded eyes rove over my body. I lick my lips and resist the urge to kiss him.

  When our dessert arrives, he picks up my spoon and insists on feeding me. The cobbler melts in my mouth along with the sugary sweet peach. Jax watches me intently as I eat. He looks like he’s about to devour me. The sizzling heat in his eyes is enough
to melt an iceberg.

  “Jax.”

  “Yes?”

  “Come home with me.”

  16

  JAX

  I drive through the rain with my hand on Vivian’s thigh. She smiles nervously at me, but her delicate fingers on my lower arm tell me that she wants me to fuck her hard tonight. The little vixen surprised the hell out of me when she told me to come home with her. I watch her lick her red lips and my cock stirs in my pants. All I want to fucking do right now is park my Maserati on the side of the road and pound her needy pussy until she cums on my leather seats.

  The streets are jammed with cars due to the heavy rain, so it takes us forever to reach her apartment building. She keeps sneaking glances at me every now and then, and I can almost read her dirty little mind. “Keep looking at me like that and we won’t make it to your place tonight,” I warn.

  She laughs.

  “What’s so damn funny?” I ask, rounding the corner to her block.

  “Nothing.” She blushes.

  “No. Please do enlighten me.”

  She tucks a strand of silky soft hair behind her ear and smiles innocently. “The way you drive should be illegal in all fifty states. You showered an entire group of people in muddy water and almost knocked over a poor old lady a few blocks away! It was so damn funny. Sad but funny.”

  “Jesus, are you drunk? You barely had any wine.”

  “No. I’m a little tipsy is all.” She responds. “It’s a pretty liberating feeling. To say what’s on your mind whenever whereever...just like that song.”

  “You’re too fucking adorable, you know that?” I pinch the apple of her left cheek.

  “Why do you say the f-word so much? If I had a quarter for every time you said it, I’d be richer than Midas.” She remarks.

  I shake my head in amusement. She really is something else. “I like saying it because it makes you wet. Admit it. I fucking make your pussy wet.”

  She stops smiling and covers her face with both hands. “Stop it. You’re embarrassing me.”

  I smack her thigh. “What did I say about using such language? If you say the words ‘stop it’ or ‘shut up’ one more time, I swear I’ll bend you over my car and fuck you in full sight of everyone here.” I give her one of my scary office looks. The look that makes my junior lawyers shake in their boots when they see me. She swallows and nods.

  “Good girl.”

  I feel her eyes on me as I park across from her building. She fishes out a small umbrella from her bag and buttons up her black coat. “It’s better if I go in first.” She says. “Alone.”

  “Seriously?”

  She gives me an apologetic look in return. “I just prefer if no one sees you at my door, so I’ll pay my babysitter and call you the moment she leaves. Okay?”

  I watch her open the passenger door and hide under her umbrella. What kind of bullshit is this?

  I switch off the engine and sit there in my car, waiting for her royal highness to call me. Ten minutes later, my phone rings. She tells me to come up to the penthouse. I lock the car and run for cover from the heavy rain. I fucking hate winter.

  I run into an old woman with a kind face on the way in. She seems to be the old babysitter Vivian told me about. I take the elevator leading up to the penthouse and pace the small compartment like a caged animal. Is she secretly ashamed of me and my temper? Is that why she suggested I follow her separately to her apartment?

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and try not to get upset. My anger is on a short leash tonight. I wanted to show Vivian that I was able to reign in my temper. I need to learn how to control it better, especially in her presence. She does have a little kid after all. I spent all fucking week learning quick and easy anger management techniques. Everyone at the office was spared from their daily dose of berating and shouting. I did my best during our morning meeting to remain calm and avoided kicking anybody out of the conference room. They all gave me strange looks throughout the day until I finally exploded and told them to mind their own fucking business.

  I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m a headmaster at an elementary school.

  The elevator door dings open and I step outside to find Vivian standing a few meters away in nothing but a short silk robe, her loose hair cascading down her shoulders. She tugs on the edges of the silky looking fabric and chews on her bottom lip. I cross the distance between us in four long strides and grab her by the waist. She puts a finger to her lips and tells me her kid is fast asleep.

  Impatient, I push her up against the apartment door and kiss her hard on the lips. She gasps into my mouth and pulls away, teasing the hell out of me. “Not here.” She pants. “Inside.”

  I carry her in my arms. She’s light as a feather and smells like baby powder. I sniff her neck like a drug addict and slam the door shut behind us. “Jax.” She says my name over and over like a prayer. Her hands are everywhere. They tug on my hair as I rain open kisses on her collarbone.

  I slide my own hands under her robe and squeeze her ass cheeks. She shudders and pulls at my shirt, silently begging me to take it off. “Bedroom,” I grunt.

  She points a finger towards a dimly lit corridor, so I haul her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and walk the short distance to her bedroom. I feel her tiny hands on my ass, feeling me up. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

  She refuses to listen, so I stop by the spacious California king bed and drop her on the mattress. Her body bounces tempting me on the dark sheets, her robe falling open to reveal her red bra and panties. She sits up on her elbows and gives me a come hither look reminiscent of my club fantasy. “Tell me what you want.”

  She rubs her milky thighs together and undresses me with her eyes. Traces of shyness flicker in her chocolate orbs. “I want to see you. All of you.”

  I smirk and unbutton my shirt. “Strip. Now.” I stand by the foot of the bed and watch her undress. She carefully folds her silk robe and sets it aside before reaching around and unclasping her bra. “Show me your tits.”

  She blushes like a virgin when her bra comes off to reveal her perfect breasts. My cock hardens even more and my ego’s fucking satisfied. I toss my shirt on the carpet and unzip my slacks. “Pinch your nipples.” I lick my lips and palm my aching cock. She cups her breasts in her delicate hands and closes her eyes. I watch her pinch those bubble-gum pink nipples and bite her lower lip to stop herself from moaning. If I had known this was going to happen, I would have booked us a room at the Waldorf Astoria for the night so we can be as loud as we fucking want.

  “Open your eyes.” I hiss, getting on the bed and crawling on top of her. Her eyes blink open and she gasps at the sight of my impressive chest. I know she likes my tattoos. I give her permission to touch them. Her dainty hands explore my six pack muscles while I tease her wet pussy with my fingers. She moans softly when I fuck her with my middle finger slowly, teasingly. “You like that?”

  She nods and grinds herself on my finger. I love watching her surrender to the pleasure I give her. “Do you want me to fuck you?” I ask, rubbing her clit with my thumb. “Do you want to cum on my cock?” I grab her hand and place it on my engorged dick. “Do you feel how hard you make me?”

  She nods again and reaches up to kiss me. I kiss her back, my tongue dancing with her own. She sucks on my bottom lip and moans my name. “Jax, promise me you won’t hurt me.”

  I pull away, my fingers leaving her temptingly wet pussy. “Hurt you how?”

  She strokes my shoulders and then threads her gentle fingers through my hair. “Hurt me with your anger.” She reveals. Her vulnerable expression surprises me and makes me want to shield her from the entire world and the evil in it. My heart does this weird flutter as she continues to play with my hair. Her touch is soothing and arousing at the same time.

  “No harm will ever come to you whenever I’m around,” I reassure her. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  She smiles and pulls me in for another heated kiss. This time, she surrend
ers to me completely. She forgets about the silent rule and moans wantonly when I kiss a scorching trail down her body. I force her thighs open and dive between her legs. I tongue-fuck her pussy, paying attention to her needy clit. God. The way she tastes. The way she smells. I love everything about this woman.

  She bites into her pillow from the pleasure and tries to wiggle away from me. I anchor her hips to the bed and use my tongue to trace the letters of the alphabet on her clit.

  She lets off the pillow and starts pinching her nipples. I grind my cock against the mattress and concentrate on making her cum. “Jax. Oh fuck.” She glances down at my face, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen. I can tell she's seconds away from her orgasm, so I rub her clit and move my tongue faster. She moans uncontrollably and gets wetter than a rainforest.

 

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