Confessions of a Litigation God: A Legal Affairs Full Length Erotic Novel (10 page)

Standing from the
bed, I walk over to Mac and lift her face with my finger under her
chin. When I have her full attention, I tell her, “I lied. I
wasn’t with anyone this weekend. And you lied for that matter,
too. You didn’t sleep with anyone else.”

She jerks away from
me, acting affronted by my proclamation. “What makes you think
I lied?”

Smiling at her
determined efforts to thwart my confession, I pull her into my arms
and wrap my arms tight around her. I kiss her softly, tenderly, so
she knows this isn’t about lust.

It’s about
truth.

“I know you
lied for the same reason I did. We don’t want to admit this
attraction, yet both of us are obsessed by it. You can’t get me
out of your mind, just as I can’t get you out of mine. I’m
tired of fighting it, and I’m tired of jerking off when I’d
rather be sunk deep inside of you. So I’m not fighting it
anymore.”

She gives me a
stuttering breath and a half smile. I lean down and kiss her again,
just a light breeze of my lips across hers. She melts further into
me, and I can feel her heart beating hard against my chest. I do
nothing but hold her, letting her decide what she wants to do. I hope
to God she decides to let me have her, but if she doesn’t, I’ll
grudgingly respect that. Just as long as she understands I haven’t
been with anyone but her since we’ve met.

Mac pushes out of my
arms and I drop them to my side, watching her warily. We stare at
each other, and I can’t see anything in her eyes that will tell
me what’s going on in that brilliant brain of hers. Just as I’m
suspecting she might be showing me the door, she surprises me instead
and drops to her knees. Peeking up at me under lashes so thick it’s
hard to see the green in her eyes, she slowly unzips my pants and
reaches a hand inside, grasping onto my aching dick.

Oh, God that feels
so amazing… so fucking right.

It’s
her
hand that feels so right.

I go absolutely
still, knowing that my deepest fantasy tonight is getting ready to
come true. I draw a deep breath in and hold it, waiting. She lifts
her chin so I can see her eyes more clearly, and what I see scares
me. She’s quietly confident, knowing that she has a bit of
power over me right now. Because let’s face it… most men
would do anything for the prospect of getting a great blow job.

I need her to know
that’s not me, though. That no matter what she does to me…
what I do to her… none of that translates into anything more
than just good sex.

Reaching out with my
fingers, I lightly stroke them on her cheek. “This is just sex,
McKayla… nothing more.”

She doesn’t
lower her gaze, just stares at me with the same confidence. I didn’t
knock her down a peg at all. I think I may have just become a
challenge to her.

She squeezes me
gently, and air comes wheezing out of my lungs. Her eyes drop and she
leans forward, running her tongue from the base of my cock to the
tip, causing a violent shudder to rip up my spine. She looks back up
at me and says, “As long as it’s nothing less.”

Christ, I’m
done for.

My fingertips leave
her cheek and push into her hair, wrapping around the back of her
head. I pull her forward… urging her to wrap her lips around
me.

“Fair enough,”
I growl at her, and even though she’s thrown the gloves down,
I’m not going to engage in a battle with her. It will be my
way, or the highway… eventually… after she sucks me
off.

***

My eyes open up, and
I raise my head for a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table.
Six AM on the dot. My internal clock never fails me, no matter how
little sleep I get the night before.

Returning my head to
the pillow, I lean forward and push my nose into the pile of silky,
black hair in front of me. It smells like spring flowers or some shit
like that. Definitely good.

I’m lying on
my right side, pressed up against a soft, beautiful woman. I’m
spooning her.

I don’t
fucking do spooning.

I don’t do
sleepovers.

I haven’t
slept with a woman all night since my ex-demon-wife killed all of my
desires for true intimacy.

Yet, here I am…
here I stayed, and fuck… I still have no desire to leave even
after I remind myself this isn’t truly who I am.

I should get up and
get some coffee… some breakfast. Depositions start back up at
nine AM.

But I don’t
move, and yeah… I press in a little closer to Mac.

Last night was
incredible. Rather, beyond incredible.

Mac embodies the
ultimate fantasy woman for me. She gave me a blow job last night that
was so good, had me coming so hard, that I lost feeling in my legs
and collapsed back on the bed. All I really remember is mumbling, I
think rather incoherently, but in my mind, I knew what I was saying.

“
Mac…
Mac… Mac…”

She crawled up
beside me, I swear licking her lips, and laid her head on my chest
until I recovered. Which only took a few minutes, then I was on her,
returning the favor and one-upping her on the orgasm count.

Then it was on for
the rest of the evening. I made sure that we were still clear on the
parameters. After she would come but before she lost that glazed look
in her eyes, I’d lean over and peer into her eyes. I would say,
“You know this is just sex, right?”

I had to make sure
she understood that.

She would smile at
me with sex-drunken eyes, nod her head, and then we’d start
kissing again.

We didn’t have
sex all night but we sure came close to it, and when we weren’t
striving for a spine-tingling climax, we were still petting,
stroking, and fondling. I couldn’t get enough of her…
she couldn’t get enough of me.

It was insatiability
on steroids.

But that’s not
all that happened last night. In our down times… you know,
those times when we actually had to rest so we didn’t kill
ourselves… we talked.

I mean,
really
talked.

None of that
superficial shit that occurred that first night when we couldn’t
reveal much about ourselves.

We talked about a
lot of stuff, mostly about our careers and personal interests. It
didn’t get too deep, but I found myself sucked into Mac’s
world. I learned that she’s a southern girl, which explained
the accent I thought I was hearing. She asked me a lot of questions
about my career path, and I learned that she has similar goals to
what I had when I started out. Her questions were thoughtful,
intelligent… and even though we talked a lot of business in
between the sheets, she still managed to bring humor into the
equation on more than one occasion.

I’m finding
that I like it when Mac makes me laugh, although I’d never
admit that to her. Hell, it’s hard enough admitting it to
myself.

Her breathing is
soft, even, and deep. I think we finally fell asleep around three AM.
I thought briefly about going back to my room, but then I told myself
it was too much of a hassle, and besides… if I got horny again
before the sunrise, I wanted her close by. I told myself that and
tried to make myself believe it, but really… Mac just felt too
good lying beside me.

Calming.

Peaceful.

I didn’t
necessarily like that I liked those feelings, but I pulled her into
my arms and scooted up as close to her as I could get, wrapping my
arm around her waist and sliding my other arm under her head. She
sighed, and even though I couldn’t see her face, I knew there
was a sweet smile there. It made my heart pinch in worry, because the
majority of my being doesn’t like making anyone feel that way.
It smacks of dependency.

Mac stirs in my arms
and arches her back slightly to stretch. She’s still sleeping,
but I think she may be close to waking up. Her movements cause her
butt to caress my dick, and it decides it’s definitely time to
wake up.

We’re in the
perfect position to wake up nicely. On our right sides… my arm
under her head and the other wrapped around her waist. Her right leg
is stretched out fully but her left is bent. My legs have matched her
position, because apparently in sleep, I was seeking the closest
amount of contact with her.

Just thinking of
having her again… this morning before we have to go to work…
has my cock manning up quickly. It’s been a long time since
I’ve had morning sex and just the thought brings me to full on
wood.

I move my left arm
from around her waist, putting my palm on her hip and sliding it down
her leg. Curving it around the back of her thigh, I push her knee
toward her chest… opening her up to me. Mac stays soundly
asleep.

Moving my hand
again, I decide to start the wake-up process. My path is well
calculated, bringing my fingers fortuitously in line with the
softness between her legs from the rear. Swiping my fingers through
her folds gets me some movement from her… a slight tilt of her
hips seeking more and a sleepy whine of need.

Nice.

I stroke her for a
few moments, listening to her breathing become uneven. She’s
still sleeping, but I’m pulling her out. I wonder if she thinks
she’s dreaming and I wonder if so, is she fighting to stay
under so she doesn’t wake up and lose these amazing feelings?

Mac grows wet, her
body responding to me even with her mind engaged in slumber. I sink a
finger inside of her and pull it out slowly.

She gets wetter, and
the thought that she is so responsive to me makes me ache to be
inside of her. Pulling my finger away, I move my hand to the back of
her thigh again and push her leg a little higher. From there, it’s
simply a matter of pushing myself down the bed a few inches and
tilting my hips just right. With a little help from my hand to line
up, I start pushing inside of her beautiful body… my promised
land. I wrap my arm back around her waist and hold her tight.

I go slowly, because
I want to drag out the wake-up process for her. In an inch, out an
inch. In two inches, out two inches. Mac’s breathing gets
harsh, raspy, and her own arm tightens around mine.

“Matt?”
she asks, her voice raw from sleep.

Lifting my head up
and leaning forward, I whisper in her ear, “Don’t move,
beautiful.”

I thrust in all the
way, deep inside, slam to the hilt. She groans, and I know she’s
fully awake now.

Moving slowly, I
pump in and out of her, keeping a measured pace. I move my hand back
down between her legs, from the front this time, stroking her…
rubbing, pressing. Mac starts moving her hips in response to me,
causing my fingers to slide against her perfectly. We fuck slowly,
and it is torturously sweet.

When Mac starts
holding her breath, I know she’s close. I’ve observed her
enough to know that she’s just moments away from coming when
she sucks in that big gulp of air and just holds it.

Thrusting inside of
her a little more insistently, I press my fingers down against her
hard and let my cock make all the friction. Mac stiffens, starts
trembling, and then she lets out a cry of relief so exquisitely sweet
because I did that to her, it starts me unloading inside of her.

I come, and I come,
and I come, and I wonder if I’ll ever stop, but I don’t
want to… because it feels fucking fantastic. I keep pumping my
hips, seeking an eternal orgasm, and I can still feel Mac spasming
around me. Finally… finally, I stop, completely emptied and
absolutely sated. I want nothing more than to press her against me
tightly and fall back asleep.

That thought doesn’t
piss me off quite as much as it should. I think I’ve come to
accept that a crack has formed in my hard exterior, and McKayla
Dawson has wormed her way in just a bit. While I still feel strong in
my convictions, and I’m not going to let this go any further
than the bedroom sheets, I have a gnawing feeling in the pit of my
stomach that I may be doomed.

What a week.

After almost dying
from orgasm overload in Chicago, we returned to New York late
Wednesday evening where I had a brief, overnight stay in my
apartment—alone—before I was heading to Atlanta for a
mediation the next day. Now it’s Friday, I’m back in New
York again, and I’m exhausted.

I give the cab
driver Mac’s address and lean my head back against the seat.
I’m so tired and I know I should go home, yet here I am…
heading to her abode. My flight from Atlanta was delayed and when it
landed in New York two hours late, what did my so-called exhausted
ass do? I called my head of resources, Karen Anders, and asked for
Mac’s address. I couldn’t give her the reason why I
wanted it, and luckily, she didn’t question me.

Not that she would.

No one questions
Matt Connover.

The Atlanta trip was
eye opening. Yes, I got my case settled at mediation and yes, I was
happy with that. So happy, in fact, I decided to hook up with a woman
that I’ve fucked on a few occasions. She’s an attorney I
had a case against in the past and on at least three trips to
Atlanta, we have gotten together to tear it up between the sheets.

No, that is not a
breach of my rule against monogamy, because Lydia doesn’t do
monogamy either. She likes sex and likes it varied, so I always make
sure my package is wrapped with her. She doesn’t fall within
the strict medical guidelines that
One Night Only
adheres to.

Lydia likes it so
varied, in fact, our first time together another woman was involved
with us. Let me tell you… that took the cake for the hottest
thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Me drilling one woman from
behind while she went down on another.

Yup… hottest
thing ever, that is, until Mac peeled her dress off for me in the
hotel that first night. Yup, just dropping that dress so I could see
what was underneath… that then became the hottest thing ever…
until I fucked her on her desk. Then that became the hottest thing
ever.