by M. S. Parker
His lips slid down my neck, and I sighed in pleasure as the jets from the tub had the water frothing all around us.
“This case doesn’t make sense,” I told him.
“Don’t talk about the case.” Arik caught my ear between his teeth and bit down. “Take a few minutes for yourself.”
For myself? I looked down at the bubbling water, at the tanned arm that held me tight against a hard body. “Isn’t that what this is?”
He chuckled. “This is part of it. But even now, you’re thinking about the case. About everything that isn’t right. Think about the things that are right.”
“And what’s that?” I demanded, my voice sharp.
He slid his hands up my belly to cup my breasts. I moaned, writhing against him.
“You’re with me now.” He palmed my breasts and pinched my nipples. They tightened and he ran his tongue along the rim of my ear.
“I–” Shaking my head, I looked up at him. Water rushed over the sides of the tub and I couldn't see him.
I didn’t know where we were.
“I’m not sure if it’s right or not. We needed to talk to—”
Arik kissed me, his tongue stabbing deep into my mouth. The hands that had been stroking my breasts moved. One going to my hair, and the other to my hip, gripping me and pulling me in tight against his cock.
The water...
It was gone.
So was the bathtub and the bathroom.
We were in one of the rooms at Club Privé, and when I tore my mouth from Arik's to look around, I saw Carrie and Gavin sitting at a small, round table in the corner.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“Making sure you don’t break the rules again,” my best friend said, tipping the glass toward me. She nodded over to the side. “Those two are all about breaking the rules, but you’re not, Dena. You’re a good girl.”
“I am not.” I glared at her, trying to make sense of the conversation even as I tried to figure out who she was talking about. One quick look told me. It was Bethany and the guy she’d been with. His face – it nagged me. Harsh, handsome and cold. “Who is he?”
“Trouble.” Arik kissed the middle of my breastbone, easing my arched back over his arm. “You know who he is, or you wouldn’t see him here. He’s trouble. Stay away from him.”
“It’s not like I was going to ask him to join us,” I snapped.
“Good. I don’t share.” Arik went to his knees in front of me, pressing his mouth to the midline of my torso before starting down my stomach.
“Why are those two in my club, darling?” Gavin asked, gesturing to Bethany and her companion.
Two of the security guards pulled them away from each other, then dragged them away, still naked.
Carrie answered Gavin's question, “Ask Dena. She’s the reason we’re all here.”
“I’m...no.” Shaking my head, I tried to get my bearings, but couldn’t.
Not with Arik’s lips brushing against the sensitive skin between my thighs.
Carrie and Gavin watched, almost curiously. “He has good technique,” Carrie said softly.
I moaned, hardly able to think about them now as Arik flicked my clitoris with his tongue, then dipped it inside me.
“He’s being stupid. Both of them are. And don’t comment on his technique. Mine is all that matters.”
Gavin’s voice was even fainter.
When I looked back up, both of them were gone, and Arik and I were in my bedroom. I was sprawled on my bed while Arik pressed his mouth against my cunt.
“I’m going to lick you clean,” he said gruffly. “Then I’m going to make you wet and we can start all over again.”
He slid two fingers inside me, and I cried out, arching my hips up to meet the next thrust, but all he did was lower his mouth, wrapping his lips around my throbbing clit.
“Please,” I whimpered. Ready to beg, ready to plead. To promise anything if he'd just give me the release I needed.
“Please what?” Arik looked up, his mouth glistening, wet. As I watched, he licked his lips. “I’ll let you pretend to be in charge for a little while, baby. What do you want?”
“I want you to fuck me. I want you to want me.”
He crawled up my body, keeping his pressed close to mine. His cock slid against me, but before he gave me what I needed, he stopped, hovering just a breath away as he kissed me. His cock twitched against my hip. “I want you, baby, can’t you feel it?”
“You want sex.” My eyes fell away from his, and my heart started to ache. “I want...”
I didn't know what I wanted.
Did I?
His hands cupped my face. “I know what you want, my Dena.”
He drove inside me then, hard and fast.
“This.” He ground his hips against mine, and I whimpered as his cock pulsed inside me. “This...”
But it wasn’t.
I cried out against his lips, uncertain how to tell him that I needed more. That I needed something else.
Gripping his shoulders, I arched up under him as he slammed into me again and again. “Tell me that this is it, Dena…tell me this is what you want…”
He growled the words against my mouth as a climax came rushing up on me.
“Tell me...”
***
A phone rang, shattering the dream and waking me up.
A dream.
Shit.
Sweat slicked my skin, and everything in me was tensed with the need to come.
And it had been a dream.
The phone rang again, cutting through my still-muddled thoughts. It was my landline and I couldn't figure out why.
Sitting up, I looked around groggily and realized I’d fallen asleep on the sofa, the remains of my sushi sitting on the coffee-table next to the bottle of sake. Dimly, I took a second to be thankful that I wasn't hungover. Then, I grabbed the phone halfway through the third ring, not even thinking to see who was calling.
“Yeah?”
There was a pause, followed by, “Dena?”
I blinked. “Carrie?”
“Ah, yeah. You sound...are you alone?”
“Sadly, yes.” The second I said it, I wished I could yank the words back. I ran my hand over my face, trying to wipe away the lingering sleep.
Carrie’s chuckle drifted across the line. “Well, I guess that explains that.”
“What does it explain?” Weary, aching, and desperate for the climax she interrupted, I stood and gathered up the trash one-handed while clutching the phone with the other hand. She wasn't making any sense and I just wanted her to explain so I could...
“Arik.”
I almost dropped the phone and the trash.
“Huh?”
Was this still part of my dream?
“He’s here and he looks about as happy as you sound.”
For a moment, I thought she meant that Arik had come to her and Gavin's place, but then my brain caught up and I realized she meant that Arik was at the club.
“And you’re telling me this why?”
“Because I thought the two of you had made up after Gavin sent you to a room the other night, but now he’s here looking like he’d happily rip someone's head off if they look at him cross-eyed. What happened?”
Closing my eyes, I blew out a breath. At least there was a simple way to make her understand. “He’s the defense attorney, Carrie.”
There was a pause. “He’s a defense attorney?” she asked delicately.
“Yes. He’s also the defense attorney for the defendant whose case I'm assisting on. And I just got moved to second chair.” Swallowing, I continued, “Neither of us knew until...the point is, we didn’t know. Then we did, but I wasn’t going to be co-council. Then Pierce was suspended and now I’m second chair and it’s a mess.”
Carrie was silent for a moment, and I assumed she was processing the whole mess. “Yeah.” Her voice was faint. “Yeah, I guess it is.” There was another pause. “Well, I gues
s that’s why you don’t have your cell turned on. Trying to avoid him?”
“My boss.” Grimacing, I shoved my hair back and squinted at the clock. It was just after ten. I’d slept maybe an hour. “Look, Carrie, I need to go. I’m exhausted, and I don’t want to talk about any of this yet.”
“Okay.” She hesitated before adding, “You will have to talk about it, though, you know. Soon. You’re treading in dangerous waters.”
I sighed. “I know.”
I hung up and then went through my familiar routine of making sure everything was closed up before I headed to my bedroom. I just wanted to sleep and not think about anything.
I was still lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling nearly an hour later, no rest in sight.
My entire body throbbed, my pussy ached, almost like I could feel him moving inside me, keeping me hovering on the brink without providing any actual relief.
It was too much.
I slid my hands up and down my thighs, closing my eyes. Even that light touch was enough to drive me closer to some edge I could feel deep inside me.
I want you...
The echo of his voice from my dreams wrapped around me. The memory of his hands ghosted over me.
My nipples tightened, rubbing against the thin silk of the camisole I wore. Shifting restlessly, I whimpered when that small movement had my panties moving against my cunt.
Need overwhelmed everything else.
Sliding a hand down my belly, I pushed the tips of my fingers just past the edge of my panties. I let my imagination take over, produce the fantasy I needed.
He hooked his fingers around the lace sidebands of my panties and dragged them down my legs.
As I pushed my fingers inside my wet passage, it was his tongue flicking against me, then entering me.
I’m going to lick you clean...
I moaned as my fingers slid in and out, as the palm of my hand rubbed against my swollen clit.
Tell me you want me...
I did want him.
But there was more. He’d been pushing for something.
I thrust harder, faster, grinding the heel of my hand against my clit.
Now that I was awake, I couldn't deny that there was more to the dream than mere sexual frustration.
And I knew what it was.
I’d avoided it for years, but here, with the worst guy imaginable, I’d gone and fallen for Arik Porter.
The worst man imaginable.
The perfect man.
Bracing my heels against the mattress, I pushed up against my hand and twisted my fingers. A wail ripped out of me, one that had Arik’s name echoing off the walls.
As I came back down, I closed my eyes.
I didn’t fight the wave of sleep that came over me.
I didn’t want to.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to think, soon enough to deal.
Chapter 6
Arik
Silence wrapped around me as I lay in my bed.
Alone.
I’d given up trying to work at midnight, although realistically, I hadn’t gotten anything accomplished most of the evening.
Most of the damn day, really.
Work, productivity, thought...all of it had gone down the drain the moment Bethany had dropped the bomb on me about Dena being moved to second chair.
I told you getting involved was a bad idea.
Dena’s voice had been shaking when she said it and even now I could still see the way she’d been struggling against emotion. Pain and anger, and I’d been responsible for most of it.
She'd said it was a bad idea, but I hadn’t paid attention, and the second things got dicey, I’d blamed her.
I'd done the one thing a Dom should never do.
I'd put my own wants ahead of her. And I did want her, more than I'd ever wanted anyone before. Even if we hadn't talked about a real relationship, it was always the Dominant's job to take care of their Sub, and I hadn't done that. I'd gotten angry and blamed her simply because it had screwed up what I wanted.
Maybe she should've told me as soon as she'd been made second chair, but that didn't excuse my behavior. She was a strong woman, and even though she'd made it clear that she could be a Dominant in her own right, if I wanted the privileges that came with dominating her, I had to accept the responsibilities too.
And I'd fucked up.
It wasn’t her fault she ended up with this case. She was a newbie ADA, assigned to a worthless ADA. Although, honestly, for all of Bethany's many faults, it wasn't really her fault Dena and I were on opposite sides of the table. I had no doubt Dena was a great lawyer, which meant she deserved second chair.
Just because I’d spent the weekend thinking about her, instead of digging further into this case, didn't mean I could blame either Dena or Bethany. It'd been hard for me to concentrate, and I could only imagine how difficult it had been for Dena, wondering how to tell me what happened while still trying to catch up. And she'd even managed to find information that actually shot down the motives she was supposed to be supporting.
Bitter humor twisted inside and I recalled what I’d learned from inside sources. They said the prosecution was trying to build a case claiming that Leayna killed her husband because he planned to divorce her and she would lose everything in the process. Except there were no records of him ever having visited or even spoken to a divorce lawyer. I could pick apart their motive without a problem, especially since Dena had made it clear that they didn't have any support for those claims.
I sighed and flung an arm over my eyes, trying to block out everything, including the case...and especially the look Dena had given me before she walked out of the penthouse.
I wasn’t going to think about her.
I wasn’t going to think about her at all.
Mentally, I focused and began to count down.
Twenty.
Time to let go of all the tension of the day. Deep breath in, out, let it all drift away.
Nineteen.
Loosen the muscles, tighten them, then loosen. From the nape of the neck all the way down.
Eighteen.
Deep breath in, out. Flex the muscles of the lower legs, then release.
Seventeen.
My phone rang.
I jerked upright and grabbed it, hoping against hope that it was Dena.
Staring at the display, at the unknown number showing there, I swore.
So much for not thinking about her.
All the tension I’d managed to wrap under some semblance of control now seemed to be coming back with a vengeance. Swearing, I kicked free of my sheet and punched my fist into the mattress.
This was just a bunch of bullshit, really.
Nothing more.
Ten minutes later, I stood in the shower with a glass of scotch on the shelf beside me, letting myself be wrapped in billows of steam.
If I couldn’t talk myself out of thinking about her, I’d do the next best thing. Under normal circumstances, I would've called her, demanding she come over where I’d fuck her out of my mind, but I was starting to think that my usual normal might not be possible with her.
And I wasn't sure I wanted it anyway.
Water slid over me, a gentle caress against my skin.
It wasn’t even close to as good as having Dena sliding over me, but as I wrapped my hand around my rigid cock, it was pretty clear that my dick didn’t care. I was thick, swollen and aching, and what I needed to do was come.
Up, down. Repeat.
Hissing out a breath, I imagined her coming to me through the steam, going to her knees and taking me in her mouth. I stroked my thumb over the head of my penis, imagined it was her tongue. Remembered the heat of her mouth. The suction and pressure.
Inside my head, a hot, X-rated little fantasy played out. Pale in comparison to the real thing, it was enough to keep me going, to make my balls tighten and my body tense.
In the shower, I shifted so that I had my back to the spray, leaning against the wa
ll while I fucked my fist. Water pounded down around me and I panted, teeth peeled back and bared a grimace.
The release that came was just that and only that.
A release.
When I dried off and half-stumbled back to the bed, I had to fight the urge to sigh. It hadn’t done much more than take the edge off.
What I needed was Dena.
Chapter 7
Dena
Dreams of Arik chased me all night long.
Waking up feeling like I’d fallen through the looking glass and still hadn’t quite found my way out of Wonderland, I gulped down two full cups of coffee even before getting into the shower. I'd grab a third on my way to work.
I wasn’t up to verbal sparring today, but I was pretty sure there'd be plenty of it on the plate, so I needed my caffeine.
The dreams...
Even after Carrie had interrupted the first one, more had waited for me.
The second one had been like an acid-laced trip through hell. Not that I’d ever done acid, but a friend had used the description once, and it seemed fitting. It had been all about me and Arik sitting in one of the ‘viewing’ rooms at Club Privé, while Bethany and her new toy of the week went over reams of paperwork. Naked. There had also been several heads sitting around the room. Just heads. Human heads. Without bodies.
I was positive that paperwork and human heads were important, that they meant something, but damned if I could figure out what.
“If you’d listen to me about how my client was innocent, none of this would be happening.” Arik had told me several times in the dream.
“None of what?” I muttered out loud now, hours later. “Naked filing?”
Disturbed by all of it, I tried to push the images and voices all out of my head as I showered, but I was only partially successful. By the time I was ready to head out the door, I was so edgy, I actually decided to skip the latte I usually grabbed on the way into the office. If I needed it later, I'd grab one at lunch.
I’d dressed a little more sedately than normal, a concession to my headache and sleepless night. The black pantsuit and vivid pink cami would also be good enough for the club if I lost the jacket, so if I needed to blow off some steam after work, I'd be ready to go. I wasn’t going to toss and turn all night like I had last night. Better to dance myself into exhaustion.
