Confessions of a Litigation God: A Legal Affairs Full Length Erotic Novel (3 page)

She pauses, silently
hemming and hawing, and my suspicion that she’s going to play
me goes on full-scale alert.

“Where?”
I ask again, this time with anger saturating my voice.

“The Galapagos
Islands,” she blurts out.

“You got to be
fucking kidding me?” I snarl at her.

“No, I’m
not fucking kidding you,” she snarls back. “They have a
lot of wildlife there for him to see… these huge tortoises.”

True enough. But
everyone that has ever heard of the Galapagos knows they’re
famous for those monstrous beasts.

“And let me
guess… you’re not going alone?”

“Well, no. I
would take Anthony with me. It’s not safe for Gabe and me to
travel halfway around the world on our own.”

Of course she would.
Anthony was her new, twenty-year-old boyfriend that I had the extreme
displeasure of meeting last weekend when I dropped Gabe off. He was
laying on her couch in a pair of boxer shorts with a beer in one hand
and the remote control in the other. Marissa smirked at me when she
saw me narrow my eyes at him. She’s just vain enough to think
I’m jealous, but I was pissed a half-naked jackass was in her
home when I was dropping my son off.

“What the
fuck?” I had leaned in and hissed at her. “Get your
fucking boyfriend dressed.”

She blinked at me
innocently and shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry about that. I
wasn’t sure what time you’d be by.”

Fucking bitch. I
dropped Gabe off every Sunday evening I had him at seven PM. She knew
exactly when I’d be there.

Focusing once more
on Number 3498’s beautiful eyes staring calmly at me from the
computer screen, I take a deep breath and let it out.

“One last
guess,” I say with sarcasm. “You have a luxury resort
probably already picked out.”

She misses the
sarcasm. “Why, yes I do. Would you like me to send you the link
so you could see it?”

I blow up. “No
I don’t want to fucking see it. I’m not paying for you
and your fuck toy to go on a vacation.”

“It’s an
educational trip,” she huffs into the phone, and I don’t
even have it in me to argue. I press the “end” button on
my phone, and blissful silence soothes me.

She calls back, of
course, but I ignore it. I’m assured that Gabe is fine, and
this was just another extortion call from her that I quickly shut
down.

Shutting my phone
off, I turn back to my computer and read Number 3498’s stats.
ONO lets you be as anonymous or open as you want. Number 3498’s
profile is skimpy, but then, so is mine. It just says she’s
originally from Nashville, has graduate education, and is only
interested in vanilla.

Which works for me.
I can take or leave the kink.

I look at her just a
moment more, and fuck yeah… her eyes are captivating me. I’m
going for it.

I click on the
button that says “Send a Message” and type,
Tomorrow,
7PM, Sullivan’s on Upper East Side. Wear red and wait at the
bar for me? ~ Mike

I don’t even
hesitate before I hit “Send”. I’m not the type that
wants to enter into any frivolous discussion to see if we’re
compatible. She’s hot—I want to fuck her—end of
story. She either does or she doesn’t and if she doesn’t,
my wish list is stocked full of other women.

Picking the
deposition transcript up from my desk, I get back to work, telling
myself that I’m not allowed to leave until I finish reading it.
But I still can’t concentrate for shit, because now I’m
suddenly anxious to get a reply from Number 3498. I keep glancing at
my computer screen, waiting and waiting.

I play this stupid
game… read a few lines of testimony, look to the computer. I
keep on playing it over the next hour, and just as I’m about to
give up and log out of ONO’s website, a message pops up in my
inbox.

From her.

I can’t
believe how fucking giddy I feel… how my heart is racing.

I click on the
message and open it up.

It has just two
words.

Yes. ~ Stella

Nope. Can’t
help it. I pull my arm back in a fist pump of victory, and then push
back from my desk, my chair rolling a good three feet back until it
bumps into the plate-glass window that overlooks Manhattan. Raising
both arms up, I savor the feeling of this win.

I just know…
something different is going to happen with this woman tomorrow, and
I’ll be out of my rut for good.

My phone rings, and
my moment of sweet victory is over. I see it’s Lorraine
Cummings calling, and I answer it with a sigh. She’s an
attorney that has a decent caseload—mostly business law—but
she sucks donkey dick when it comes to her own business practices and
she’s getting ready to go under. I made an offer to buy her
firm out, and I assume she has an answer for me.

“Hello,
Lorraine. Have an answer for me?”

“I do,”
she says breathlessly. “Would you like to get together for
dinner to discuss it?”

“It’s
either a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer,” I tell
her, not unkindly, but not offering any room to argue.

“Of course,”
she says hastily. “I mean… yes, the answer is yes.”

“Good. Then
I’ll see you and your associate attorney… What did you
say her name was?”

“McKayla
Dawson.”

“That’s
right. See you both on Monday… eight AM sharp. And don’t
be late.”

“We won’t
be, and I just wanted to take this opportunity—”

“I’m
sorry, Lorraine… I have a meeting getting ready to start and
can’t chat. See you on Monday.”

I disconnect, not
feeling an ounce of remorse over the abrupt way I ended the
conversation. Lorraine Cummings is a pain in the ass, but she’s
going to be my pain in the ass starting Monday. In exchange for
buying her cases at a discounted price, I’ve agreed to take her
on as an employee, along with her associate attorney.

She approached Bill
and me a few weeks ago with an offer to sell her firm, which included
a nice asset load of several business litigation cases and one,
potentially big, personal injury case. That case was a little shaky,
and she didn’t know the exact details other than a brain injury
was involved, but that was enough to perk my ears up. The only caveat
was the case would only come with her associate attorney… this
McKayla Dawson she just mentioned. Frankly, I had forgotten about
that, but I wasn’t worried. I had plenty of work to do and
could keep her busy, and it would be a small price to pay to latch on
to a brain injury case. Worst-case scenario, I could keep her on here
at the firm until the case was concluded, and then cut her loose. I’d
give her a nice bonus, though, if the case settled well.

We made a fair offer
to buy Lorraine out, and she said she wanted to think about it for a
few days. She wasn’t fooling me… she wasn’t
thinking about it at all. She had decided to accept it the minute I
threw the number at her, but she wanted me to think she had other
options. She wanted to try and negotiate.

Thus the reason she
suggested dinner tonight. She wanted to make a counter offer, plus
she wanted to flirt some more with me to see if I’d take the
bait.

The answer to dinner
was an unequivocal “no”. She either accepted my offer or
didn’t, and I wasn’t going to miss a minute of sleep if
she didn’t. I also wasn’t going to be overly excited if
she did. It was just a way to continue growing my empire.

Just business.

It was also a “no”
because I didn’t have it in me to suffer her breathy sighs and
the way she would lick her lips when talking to me. She comes on way
too obvious, and yet really doesn’t have the guts to make a
move on me. I mean, if she would just walk up, palm my dick, and
massage me to life, I probably wouldn’t say no.

Who would? She’s
pretty hot, a little bit older, but attractive all the same.

But no… she
doesn’t have the metaphorical balls to do it, and I like my
women a little more strong in their base urges. I like a woman who
goes after what she wants.

Like Number 3498.
Her simple “yes” was the one answer I got tonight that
has me smiling.

It’s a
lecherous one, but I’m smiling all the same.

Tomorrow cannot get
here fast enough.

I hit Sullivan’s
at six PM, a full hour before
Stella
is due to arrive. I
wanted to have a drink, relax, and think about what I could do to her
this evening. I also wanted to watch her walk in.

I can tell a lot by
the way a woman walks. The way she holds her head, her shoulders.
Does she look around the room or at the floor? Do her arms swing
naturally or does she hold them stiff at her sides?

Body language. I’ve
been reading it for years on jurors, and I do it with people all the
time. You can’t trust half of what comes out of people’s
lips anyway, so I rely a lot on evaluating their movements to get the
full story.

I order a Jameson
neat and sip at it while checking out the patrons. There’s a
dark-haired woman at the bar that makes eye contact with me. For a
moment, I think it might be
Stella
, because of her bold gaze,
but I immediately realize she’s not wearing red and it doesn’t
look like there’s much else upstairs to compete with it. I
don’t see the intelligence in those eyes that originally caught
my attention and immediately know it’s not
Stella
. I
don’t return the woman’s look and brush my gaze past her,
making sure I don’t make eye contact with her again.

At six thirty on the
dot, my breath catches as I watch her walk in. She wore red…
as I demanded, and I knew it would look fucking fantastic on her. The
dress is practically painted on to a slamming body with the hem just
hitting at mid-thigh and the low cut plumping her breasts up and over
the top. It’s sexy as sin, but not slutty. She has on fire
engine-red lipstick to match it, a color I hated on Marissa, but
Stella
wears it very well.

I hope to have that
lipstick smudged all over my cock later tonight.

I take a sip of my
whiskey and watch her over the rim of the glass as she walks to the
bar. She holds her head high, her gaze roaming the room. Luckily, she
doesn’t look toward the corner where I’m seated, but she
makes eye contact with anyone that deigns to look back at her. Her
hips swing softly, but her shoulders are held back regally.

And those eyes…
pale green loveliness sparking electric… filled with
brilliance.

I peg her as a
banker or a financier.

Tilting my glass
back, I take the last swallow of Jameson and let it burn its way down
my throat. She orders something from the bartender as I stand from
the table and throw a twenty down. As I make my way over, I let my
eyes roam down the long expanse of leg she has exposed, capped off by
a pair of black heels that I wouldn’t mind being pressed into
my shoulders later… if she can get her legs up that high.

“I’ll
pay for that,” I say, just as the bartender sets a glass of
white wine in front of her.

Stella turns
slightly in her seat, her mouth poised open to say something. When
she sees me, her eyes go wide with surprise and her mouth closes. She
shamelessly runs her eyes down the length of me and when her gaze
comes back up, they shine appreciatively over what she sees.

Turning to the
bartender, I hand him my credit card and nod toward Stella’s
wine. “And I’ll take another Jameson neat.”

When I turn back to
Stella, her lips are pursed in amusement. I stick my hand out with a
genial smile. “Mike… Number 134 at your service.”

She laughs at my
introduction, and it sounds like the beauty of when you hear church
bells tolling. She places her palm in mine, and I swear, a frisson of
electricity courses through me from the contact. I can’t
fucking help myself because of the overwhelming need to touch her
skin with my lips. Pulling her hand up, I brush a light kiss over the
back and love how the smile slides off her face a bit.

She seems confused
for just a moment, and then her eyes fill with flirtation. “So,
what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Lame… so
lame, yet I can’t help but laugh. “I heard there was
going to be a stunningly ravishing woman at this bar tonight, and I
simply had to come out and try to win her.”

I know that was
equally as lame, but I’m enjoying whatever this is we’re
doing. This banter.

She giggles and
takes a sip of wine, which causes my gaze to go to her slender throat
as she swallows. My lips have plans to spend a lot of time there as
well.

“I heard about
this woman,” she says, setting her glass back down. Then she
leans toward me and whispers, “They say she’s kind of a
sure bet, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Fuck, she’s
funny. It’s been a long time since a woman made me laugh, and
that’s exactly what I do. Reaching out, I tuck a long lock of
her hair behind her ear, not because it needed it, but because I need
to touch her again. “I have to say, I’m beyond pleased
with our match. Your picture had me entranced, but it really didn’t
do you justice.”

“You did hear
the part where I said I was a sure bet, right? No need to spout
compliments. I’m sleeping with you tonight.” She’s
grinning at me, but I do sense a tiny bit of nervousness about her.
It might be the way her hands are gripping the edge of the bar, but I
don’t think
Stella
has much experience at this.

Good thing I have
enough for both of us.

“Yet, I felt
compelled to give it to you all the same,” I tell her smoothly.
“I’m the kind of man that sort of just speaks his mind.”

“I like that.
In fact,” she says as she leans in toward me again, her perfume
subtly teasing me. It’s spicy and bold… just like her.
“What exactly
is
on your mind tonight?”

Fuck. I could
probably get arrested in thirty-seven states for what is on my mind.
I bring my hand up and wrap it around the back of her head, my
fingers sliding through her silky hair. Pulling her closer to me, I
lean in and skim my lips along her jawline, straight toward her ear.