by J. J. McAvoy
“Levi.”
He didn’t stop. He began, slowly, softly, but then, just as if someone had flipped a switch inside his mind, he grew wild… just the way I liked him. My back lifted as his tongue, followed by two of his fingers, entered me. Gripping onto his hair, I held him tight, rocking my hips towards him.
“Urgh…” I couldn’t even form words.
“You should see how you look right now,” he said. Kissing his way back up my body, his fingers remained, vigorously stroking my sweet spot. Pleasure rocked through me, and I bit my lower lip, trying in vain to smother the loud moan that had been building deep within the core of me.
His teeth grazed my earlobe, and I could feel his breath, hot against my neck as he whispered, “I know you can be much louder than this, Thea. Moan for me. Come for me.”
“God! Yes!” I screamed, as I allowed myself to let go.
As my climax reached its peak, I threw my head back and dug my nails into his shoulders as though he were the only thing in the world that was holding me to the earth.
My lips parted as I watched him lick his fingers clean… as he licked me off of his fingers. I was sweating, and my breathing was ragged. My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest. I had climaxed, but I wanted more of him. I needed all of him.
I kissed him passionately, as I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him in closer to me. As our tongues tasted and teased each other, I pressed myself against the length of him desperately trying to convey my need. Thankfully, he understood.
“Take me to your room,” he demanded, breaking our kiss.
Nodding, I slid off the counter, making sure to avoid the broken glass, and stepped out of my panties. Then, I took his hand and led him into my bedroom.
The distance, no matter how small, between us was enough to drive me mad. He brushed my hair aside and kissed my neck, each step towards my bedroom felt to long… too damn far away. And I couldn’t help but want to stay in his arms longer. I loved how he touched all of me with no reservations.
“This is a clothes free zone,” I whispered, as we finally entered my room. To illustrate my point, I rid myself of my bra as I stepped though the threshold. “House rule.”
“Who am I to go against the house rules?” he muttered, unbuttoning his shirt. I lay back on my bed watching him. “Aren’t you going to help?” he asked.
“Not even a little bit,” I replied, biting my bottom lip in anticipation.
To my disappointment, he stripped quickly, and his boxers had barely touched the floor before he pounced on me.
I laughed as he hovered above me. “Before the week is out, we definitely need to work on your stripping routine.”
“Will you give me a few pointers?”
I gently sucked his bottom lip. “I don't strip, but I’m sure we can work something out.”
I ran my hand down his chest, enjoying the feel of his heated flesh as I traced each line of his muscles. As I trailed my way downwards, I took hold of him. His member stood hard and proud in my hands, throbbing with need, and his mouth parted slightly, as he let loose a low hiss.
His thumb grazed my lips, then he slid his palm up to caress my cheek, his strong touch was firm against my jaw line. “If you take hold of that, you better know what to do with it.”
I let go in order to push him back. He fell onto the bed and I sat up on top of him. “You better be able to handle it,” I teased.
LEVI
There are some things guys know they can only dream about. We never say them out loud and we try not to think about them until we’re alone… where we can fantasize all we want. But having her, a beautiful, fun, confident woman, kiss down my chest, all while her hands worked me to the point where I needed to grip onto the sheets in order to maintain some semblance of control… it was too much. Each and every second I spent with her, my control was slipping. I’d wanted to take this a little bit slower, to enjoy it—
“Fuck! Thea,” I gasped, sitting up as she took me in her mouth. I stared down at her, captivated by her ability to leave me shivering me in her hands. “I can’t think, fuck, Thea. Ah—”
My hands were in her hair before I even realized it. She swirled her tongue around the tip of my head, and I could feel the urge building inside of me.
No. Not like this.
Holding her head steady for a moment, I took charge, and I flipped us both around, pinning her hands above her head.
“So, I take it that you couldn’t handle it?” she grinned, licking her lips once again. Fuck me. She was doing it on purpose.
I parted her thighs with my one free hand. Feeling her velvety lips part, and her body go rigid in anticipation, I paused and pulled back slightly. She wasn’t the only one who could be a tease. Then, as she frowned in frustration at her delayed gratification, I slammed into her, allowing her to have all of me at once.
“Ah goddamn!” she screamed, her head twisting back pleasure.
“You were saying?”
“I—”
Slam
“Levi—”
Slam
Slam
She gave up trying to speak, and instead struggled to free her hands from my iron grip. But I refused to let her go. She begged to touch me as her body shook and trembled, but watching her under me, seeing the pleasure rippling through her with my every thrust, I soon found that even I was struggling to hold back.
“Baby, please,” she begged, and at that, I let go of her hands, and took ahold of her hips. I changed my pace and sped up my thrusting, grunting with each thrust.
“Yes. Ahh,” she moaned, as she wrapped her arms around my neck, and pulled me to her lips. Our tongues circles each other, matching the rhythm and intensity of our writhing bodies. When she opened her brown eyes to look at me, there weren’t enough words in that moment to express the depth of our affection, and our longing for each other. I never wanted this moment to end.
“Levi.”
“Thea.”
We both called out for one another as we finally came. When it was over and our afterglow had begun, we collapsed into each other’s arms. Neither of us spoke, we just leaned back against the bed and relished the scent of our sex.
Her head rested against my chest, and as she settled down against me, my hand slid down the length of her body and came to rest on her ass. Without thinking, I squeezed it, but she didn’t say anything, she simply let me be.
It was things like this that made me feel as though she was just a dream. Things like this didn’t happen to me. I worked, I had a few hook ups here and there, and then I went back to work. But never in my life had I ever been so infatuated with someone.
“What’s your last name?” I asked her.
“What?” She turned her head and looked at me.
“Your last name, what is it?”
“Don’t tell me you’re already getting attached,” she teased.
I frowned at that. “It feels dirty to me— dirtier to be doing this and not at least have an idea as to who you are. Don’t you think so?”
“It’s Cunning,” she said simply. “Thea Cunning.”
“I’m Levi Black.”
“Sexy name,” she giggled. “I’m guessing that’s your alias, it can’t possibly be your real name.”
Reaching over the edge of the bed, I searched for my pants. Finding them, I fished my wallet out of the back pocket and flipped it open to show her my ID.
“Now I know your age, height, date of birth—?” she taunted, “What if I’m some kind of crazy stalker?”
“I’m a lawyer,” I told her. “I can get a restraining order if needed.”
“Ooh, a lawyer,” she said, not sounding the least bit impressed as she sat up and wrapped a sheet around herself, much to my disappointment.
“Most women find that highly impressive.”
“I guess it’s okay, but I prefer brain surgeons,” she said with a wink as she rose out of bed.
“Where are you going?”
/> “I’m going to heat up some pizza, I’m starving!”
“I’ll go with you,” I said as I stood up. I grabbed my boxers as she took one of my shirts to wear. “Must you look sexy in everything?”
“That’s the hunger talking, come on.” she laughed, taking my hand.
I like the way she laughed. She did it so easily, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
“Shadow! No!” she screamed, as she rushed forward to chase away her cat who was busy getting itself drunk off of the wine we’d spilled on the ground.
The brown and white cat tried to run away from her, but she caught it, and moved it over to the water bowl.
“Sorry about that,” she said, looking up at me.
“It’s fine,” I said, as I bent and began picking up the broken shards of glass. She knelt beside me and wiped up the rest of the wine.
“Sorry about the wine as well. You said it was your favorite?”
“It’s not really. I lied because I ripped your shirt,” I said, nodding to the yellow top that lay on the ground, along with the rest of her clothes that were scattered all around.
“Well, I’m just going to have to keep your shirt as compensation then,” she sniffed.
“You look better in it anyway.”
Shaking her head at me, we dumped the glass shards into the bin. Trying my best not to stare at her, I looked around her kitchen. It was a little outdated, but still nice. Wait—
“Thea? How are you going to heat up the pizza without a microwave?”
Her eyes went wide as she looked around. “Damn it, I left it in one of the boxes.”
“Then what have you been eating all this time?”
“Cereal and take out?”
I tried not to laugh at the look on her face.
“Hey, give me a break, I just moved.”
“No judgment,” I lied.
“Liar.”
“Come on, let’s search for your microwave.”
“It’s okay, we can use the oven.”
“True. But then you still won’t have a microwave to use next time. Now, where are the boxes?”
Sighing, she opened the door that led out of the kitchen and into what I could have only assumed was a garage. It was filled with nothing but boxes.
“What is this? Hoarders?”
“First of all, hoarding is a serious medical condition, one that I do not have, and secondly, what happened to ‘no judgment’?” She crossed her arms over her chest and I couldn’t help but notice her breasts as they rose.
“Excuse me,” she said, interrupting my ogling, “are you staring at my boobs?”
“Yes,” I replied, “but again, we aren’t judging each other.”
Shaking her head at me, she turned back into the garage, and pulled out a pair of boots for herself and a pair of sandals for me.
“Good thing my sister’s feet are huge,” she chuckled
“So is my sister’s. She used to buy big shoes, and ask for a small box to take them out of the store with her.”
“Ha! I thought my sister was the only one.”
Smirking, we didn’t really go deeper than that, nor did we need to. We hunted around for the microwave, and interestingly enough, it was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.
CHAPTER FIVE
P R E S E N T
THEA
That bastard was gunning for me, I could feel it. This was only the sixth class, and he had already given us a pop quiz. The moment he said the words, his eyes flickered over me. It was as though he meant to challenge me right then and there. Plus, with his Darwinian style of teaching, if we all failed, he’d kick us out without a second thought. I had heard a rumor that all Professor Black needed was a total of twelve students to be in his class, and at the moment, there were twenty of us. And on the first day, there had been over fifty.
Everyone he kicked out would go to the other law professors, in the hopes of sitting in on their classes. It was said that only the top twelve students got offered a position within his firm after graduation. This group of students were known as the twelve disciples, and come hell or high water, I was determined to be a part of the twelve.
I had spent the last week reading everything I could find on Levi Black. To students, he was El Diablo, but in Law circles, he was called The Cleaner. The reason for this was that he hadn’t lost a single case since he had opened up his own firm, and he was known for being the one who cleaned up everyone’s messes, legally speaking.
Levi Black and Associates was one of the leading law firms in the country. The name partner, Levi Black, graduated Harvard Law School at twenty-three, the same damn age that I was just starting out on. After graduating, he received a job offer at Spencer and Hill, where he worked for five years, before leaving to start his own practice with a college friend. However, two years later, and after a nasty divorce, he left the company and started his own firm at the age of thirty.
Now here he was, six years later and on top of the world, and all I could do was wonder; who in the hell was this person? Time magazine quoted him as saying he wanted to “shape the next generation of young minds”. He was a natural born genius with a hunger for winning at all costs. He could have studied anything but chose law. They all made him seem like he was the goliath of lawyers.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make this version of him match up with the Levi I knew. He wasn’t a savage workaholic lawyer; he played the guitar at a club, he sang with me in the shower, he ate cold pizza in his underwear, and laughed at all of my bad jokes. I knew that people sometimes put up façade when they first meet people, but even at two o’clock in the morning, he was still just as kind as the first moment I met him.
“Ms. Cunning, shouldn’t you be more focused on your quiz than on the light fixture?”
I jumped as he startled me out of my daydream.
Be one of the twelve.
“Yes, of course, but I’ve already finished, and wasn’t sure if I was allowed to leave early,” I said as I handed him my write up.
He looked at the clock. “It took you twenty-one minutes?”
“Sorry it took so long,” I replied dramatically.
He read it over it, and placed it back down in front of me. I couldn’t stop myself from shivering when his hand accidentally grazed against mine. And to make matters worse, he noticed.
“Everyone,” he called out to the class, “thanks to Ms. Cunning, you now have five minutes left to complete the assignment.”
A few people turned to glare at me, but I was too focused on trying to stop my hand from shaking to pay them any heed.
Was that too cocky? Fuck no, this is Levi Black. And I was going to be one of the disciples.
For some odd reason, I had a sneaking suspicion that he was the one who had started calling his selected students the twelve disciples, just so that he could praise himself, the asshole.
“Time’s up,” he snapped.
As we passed our papers down to him, a few people opted to save themselves the embarrassment and simply stood up and left. I counted.
Sixteen. At the rate he was going would there even be twelve of us left?
“The four students who just left, never speak to them again,” he stated as he took the quizzes and dropped them into the trash. “This quiz wasn’t meant to test your analytical abilities, it was meant to test your mental strength. Can you work under pressure? If you can’t, then you don’t deserve to be a lawyer. However,” he boomed, “that is just my opinion. There is a loophole for ninety-nine percent of everything, and after a week here, the four students who left—I no longer care to remember their names—did not grasp the lesson that Ms. Cunning understood on the first day; you have the right and the ability to present your case and therefore defend your right to remain in the class.”
Was he praising me? No. He couldn’t be.
“Even if you don’t have the strength now, you fake it. You fake it as if your life depended on it. You research the hel
l out of it, and even if you’re dumb enough to get the date wrong, or finish a quiz early without properly quoting the text, or me, then you still fake it. Because if you can believe your lie, you can sell doubt to others. To win a case, all you have to do is instill doubt in the thing opposing you.”
Asshole! Praising me, my ass. The son of the bitch was still making a fool out of me. Damn I hated him. I hated him so much, I wanted to claw at his face.
Or his back. The thought slyly slipped into my mind and I flushed.
Damn it. Why can’t I think straight? Why?
“Who here has heard of the Richard Archibald Case?” he asked, and we all raised our hands.
He pointed to a guy who sat behind me. I turned to look at him, and I noted that he wore a plaid shirt and cowboy boots, and that his eyes were blue, and his hair was a dirty, sandy blonde.
“Atticus Logan, rise and use this moment to impress me.”
“Alrighty then—”
“Sit back down, Mr. Logan,” he said, causing a few snickers. “Your southern charm might be nice for some people, but here you’re wasting words, which means you’re wasting my time. Next, you, girl in the glasses, Ms. Vega is it?”
She stood up quickly, knocking over her all of her things, but she wasn’t even bothered. “Richard Archibald, age sixteen, son of the multimillionaire, Andrew Archibald. On Friday September 12th, he was arrested and charged with second-degree murder and manslaughter in the death of two high school students, who attended one of his parties, where he gave them the new heroin pills that are now on the streets. It’s basically heroin in a capsule.”
“Thoughts?” he asked.
“Second-degree murder is ridiculous,” someone up front said.
“Wasn’t one of the kids his ex-girlfriend? And they said that he knew the batch was bad. The prosecution could call it a crime of passion,” Vega added.
“Hearsay.” Levi replied.
“He deserves manslaughter, but I doubt he will get it,” I stated out loud, and they all turned to focus on me.
“Go on,” Levi prompted, leaning against his desk.
“Come on, whether or not he knew the batch was bad doesn't matter. The substance is still illegal, and therefore, any death attributed to it is a crime. If this kid wasn’t rich and white, this wouldn’t be news. He would be made to serve his time, and we would move on.”