Lawyers In Love: Bittersweet Homecoming (12 page)

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Authors: Ann Jacobs

Tags: #Romance, #Erotic

BOOK: Lawyers In Love: Bittersweet Homecoming
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Finally he let go, lowering his heaving chest to rest against hers, burying his face in the crook of her neck. It had to be hard for him, remembering as well as she did how he’d taken total control, seduced her with his strength, the powerful thrusts of his body in hers.

It hadn’t been his physical prowess that had seduced her then, but the power of his voice, his emotions…powers he still possessed in full, potent measure. Andi had no illusions that making him believe that would be an easy task. The tear that fell from his cheek onto her chest punctuated her concern…made her want to give him comfort she knew instinctively he’d reject.

Still she couldn’t help herself from wiping that tear away. “It wasn’t your body that seduced me, Gray. It was you. Your voice, your commands…that fuck-me look in your eye.”

He looked away, as if denying the truth of what she felt, what she’d said.

All he’d take from her was sex. Not love. Not comfort. Not even friendship, though in truth they were becoming good friends when they weren’t in bed. Needing to hold him, she kept her legs wrapped around his trembling thighs. “Gray?”

He stirred, raising his head to look into her eyes. “Squeeze my cock, baby. Squeeze it hard. Make me so hard I can’t think about the pain.”

It was an order, not a request, so Andi concentrated hard, tightening her pussy muscles around him, milking him slowly while he watched her face. She’d never noticed before how long his eyelashes were, or how they curled, or the regular pattern of tiny lines that fanned out from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah. That’s it. Harder.” His eye closed, and his mobile lips tightened as he began to move on her. His hot cock filled her, stretched the sensitive tissue between her cunt and the plug that filled her ass. “Kiss me. I want to taste my come from your pretty mouth.”

Andi wanted to soften the tight line of his mouth, soothe the tension she guessed came as much from his own doubts as it did from sexual excitement. Raising her head, she traced his lips with her tongue, bathing them like a mother cat might clean her kittens. When he opened to her, she took his tongue in her mouth, felt him fuck her there with the same slow rhythm as he was fucking her pussy with his big, rigid cock.

When he stiffened and bombarded her cunt with hot spurts of come, she followed, with wild contractions of her pussy that happened without her conscious direction. With wave after wave of pleasure that radiated through her body, made her tremble beneath him. Freefalling for long moments while he shuddered above her, she clutched him to her breasts, welcomed the anchor of his weight that kept her earthbound.

 

* * * * *

Andi liked fucking with him.

Tired but exhilarated, Gray turned his head on the pillow and watched her sleep. Her pale skin glistened and the morning sun brightened her red-gold curls. Brilliant reflections from the diamonds in her ring drew his attention. Her left hand lay against his thigh, the pink-tipped nails barely grazing his scrotum.

His cock started to swell at the sight of that hand. Something about it…something more erotic than if she’d lain in a way to give him a bird’s-eye view of her satiny, shaved pussy.

He’d made her come. More than once…and once without touching her except with his hot gaze and erotic suggestions. Not quite the stuff of dreams, but he knew she’d liked it. She’d been dripping honey when she straddled him and took his cock inside her hot, swollen cunt. A woman couldn’t fake arousal. Not that much.

Gray rolled to his side, let her warmth invade his body. For the first time since those Colombian drug-runners nailed him, he felt lucky. Lucky to be alive and even luckier to have come home to Andi and their son.

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

Yeah, Gray liked being married. It had been nearly a month now, and still Andi gave every indication of wanting him as much as she had eight years ago. Damn it, he’d sworn he’d quit looking back. He should be grateful for what he still had. Hell, he was thankful. Thankful for Andi and Brett and this job that gave him reason to live.

He leaned back in his desk chair and chewed the end of a pencil. Banishing doubt was almost impossible, despite the fact that he’d promised himself to count his blessings, not mourn the lost years or curse the limitations his injuries placed on him now. Picking up a newly framed photo of Andi and Brett that he’d taken last weekend by the pool, he wondered if either or both of them suffered occasional regrets for having taken him on, emotional baggage and all.

Brett seemed thrilled with his room, the swimming pool, and the spacious house with all sorts of nooks and crannies a boy might explore. Since they’d moved in, he’d made himself completely at home. Gray wasn’t so sure about Andi, though she’d settled in without a word of complaint. She seemed more at home in court, where he’d just run into her an hour ago. She’d been surprised to see him walking out of Courtroom B, because she hadn’t known he’d be there. He hadn’t known he’d be presenting the defense’s opening statement, either, until Tony had handed over the McMillan case upon learning Kristine was in labor.

“Keep trying to get the state to accept a plea,” Tony had said on the way out the door. “I don’t like our chances on this case.”

Gray hadn’t liked them either, so now he was hanging around the office, waiting for a decision on his offer to have his client plead no contest in return for probation and no more than six months’ jail time. What the hell was taking so long? Gray understood Craig McDermott, Harper Wells’s fair-haired boy, wouldn’t have the authority to accept a plea bargain. Hell, the kid was no more than six months out of law school, but already he was getting meaty cases partly because Andi now had to recuse herself from trials where Winston Roe was handling the defense.

“Gray?”

He looked up to find Michelle, Tony’s secretary, grinning ear to ear. “What?”

“The boss is a daddy. Kristine just had a boy. Anthony James Landry. Eight pounds, two ounces. You want me to send her some flowers from you or will Andi take care of it?”

“I’ll call Andi.” Gray reached in his jacket, pulled out a money clip, and peeled off a couple of twenties. “Here. Put this in with whatever you’re collecting for a gift from the office. And if you don’t mind, call Craig McDermott at the state attorney’s office and see what’s holding up the decision on that plea deal.”

“Okay. Hank should be back soon from doing the afternoon arraignments.”

“When he gets here, ask him to come see me. I doubt Tony’s going to be spending a lot of time here during the next few days.” Gray wouldn’t, if Andi had just given birth.

“All right. Do you need anything else before I pack it in for the day?”

“What? Oh, no. Thanks.” Gray picked up the phone and listened while Andi raved on the other end with excitement over their friends’ new arrival. “Yeah. Send Kristine some flowers. I’m waiting for a call from your office on a plea agreement but I should be home by six or six thirty.”

If Andi had just given birth.
She wanted another baby, had talked about adoption with him just the other night. Gray stared at his lap, at the outline of his braces that was clearly visible beneath his lightweight suit pants, and at his fucked-up baby-making equipment that didn’t show and caused him no problems until…

No reputable adoption agency was going to let them have a newborn, not with him pushing forty and as severely limited as he was physically. The idea of going through private channels, buying a baby, hadn’t set well with him or Andi, who had said she’d never sleep for worrying whether her baby’s natural mother were out there somewhere, planning to snatch the child away.

He should have told her there was a good chance he could give her another baby—just not in the usual way. Would tell her now, no matter how embarrassing it was to think about much less talk about the way the doctors would have to collect the sperm. Maybe if he had the operation…

No. Not unless and until that cyst caused him a whole lot more pain than the cramps that came every few hours, disturbing his sleep or his train of thought. Of course they were getting worse and more frequent. But he didn’t give a damn. He could take it. He might not be able to move the way he used to, but at least he could get around. And he could fuck with his wife, although not anywhere near as athletically as he’d have liked. He wouldn’t risk losing that.

His intercom crackled. Grateful for the distraction, he picked up the phone and talked with Marcy Kramer, the assistant state attorney who apparently was supervising Craig McDermott on the McMillan case. “Nine months with credit for time served? I’ll have to run that by my client. You know, Marcy, this trial could go on for weeks, cost the taxpayers a bunch of money. And you could lose. Your case is none too strong.”

He paused, listening while Marcy reminded him in that sultry come-on sort of voice she had that he wasn’t Tony Landry and that she might decide to try the case herself. “Spin me another one, Marcy. I’ll get with the client and let McDermott know in the morning.” With that Gray hung up. Marcy used to get his cock in gear when she was two years behind him in high school, but nerdy Sam Kramer had been the only guy the tough-talking blonde had looked at back then. Marcy had followed Sam to Miami U and if Gray recalled correctly, they’d married during his junior year. She’d never given another guy a chance.

According to Andi, that had changed, big-time. Since Marcy’s divorce she’d been fucking everything in pants—or out of them, as the case might be. Tony had even mentioned her having come on to him a few weeks back, and Tony didn’t put out vibes. He was as devoted a husband as any Gray had ever seen.

What had happened to break up the marriage made in heaven? Gray pictured Sam as he was when they were kids. The former chief nerd of their high school class, Sam was now a doc who specialized in fertility problems, who’d undoubtedly get off on knowing the ex-football captain and homecoming king would now require his assistance to impregnate his wife.

At least Sam couldn’t spread around what he learned in the course of doing his job. Dragging himself out of the chair, Gray picked up his crutches and began the slow, arduous trek to the parking garage. As he made his way through a sea of cars, he wondered if Andi would want to carry his baby again instead of adopting—if that were possible.

 

* * * * *

“Why didn’t you say last night while we were talking about adopting? Of course I’d rather have your baby than adopt. I…you said before we…damn it, you told me it wasn’t possible for you to make me pregnant.” Andi sat cross-legged on the bed that night after they’d made love, stroking his cock the way he’d told her to. “Why did you lie?”

Gray loved the little circular motion she made with her index finger over the tip, the warmth of her palm on his scrotum when she cupped his balls. “What? I didn’t lie. I can’t make you pregnant. But a fertility specialist can probably make you pregnant with my sperm. That possibility wasn’t at the forefront of my mind when I was waiting for you to climb on my cock and take me on my first ride for longer than I cared to remember.”

“Oh. I guess I can forgive you.” Bending at the waist, she snaked out her tongue and tasted the drop of lubrication she’d coaxed out of his quickly hardening sex. “You know, Gray, I love making love with you.”

Say it often enough, and I may start believing you.
But right now Gray looked down at himself and couldn’t figure out why. “So you want me to see what I have to do to give you another baby?”

The look she gave him was soft, dreamy…not the usual sassy Andi look. “Uh-huh. Gray, I hadn’t dared to hope—”

“I’ll talk to Sam Kramer. Can’t say I’ll enjoy it…”

“Marcy’s ex?”

“Yeah. Did I tell you I spoke to her this afternoon?”

“No, but I figured you did. I sent Craig to her when he came asking me for a decision on the plea deal for McMillan. What did she say?”

“Nine months, credit for time served. Five years’ probation. I’m going to recommend McMillan take it.” It sure as hell beat the five to ten year sentence the client would get if a jury convicted him. “What would you have offered me?”

“Anything, Master,” Andi said with a grin as she stretched out beside him and snuggled up close. “Don’t want you expending all your energy on a jury trial when you could be expending it on me. Which probably explains why Harper won’t let me anywhere near cases Winston Roe lawyers are defending.”

“Yeah, sure. Tony says you’re tough as nails to deal with.” Rolling over onto his side, Gray slid his arm around Andi and squeezed her firm, silky butt. “I’ll make an appointment with Sam as soon as I can get one.”

“Okay.” The way she did every night lately, Andi tucked her head under Gray’s chin. Her warm breath tickled his chest. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Yeah.” She had. He hoped to hell she wasn’t saying it to convince herself. And he wished he had the guts to love her, too. First, though, he’d have to dispel the fear that she’d walk out. And the terrible feeling that if she did, and he’d let himself love her, he’d hurt far more than he ever had from his injuries. They’d robbed him of a lot, but not as much as he’d lose if he loved Andi—and lost her.

Stroking her flat, firm belly and silky smooth mound as they lay spoon-fashion on the bed, he wondered if he’d really get the chance to feel his baby kicking inside her…until the worst leg cramp he’d ever experienced had him doubled over with pain and trying to hold in the screams that wanted to escape his lips.

 

* * * * *

“Where’s Brett?”

“I called my parents. They came over to the house and are watching him. Hank’s taking care of talking to McMillan about the plea deal, before you ask. Lie back and relax now, and tell me why the hell you neglected to mention that you could get rid of this pain by a simple little operation. Come to think of it, I’d like to know why you’ve been hiding the fact the cramps have been getting worse. We’re supposed to be partners.”

“W-what do you mean?” Gray’s usually agile tongue apparently had been dulled by the pain medication they’d shot into him when he got to the emergency room.

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