by Jean Baker
THE LAWYER
Book 1
By Jean Baker
Copyright 2012, 2013
Smashwords Edition
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Marta was pissed. The need to kill raced through her veins. Her heels clipped an angry tat-a-tat on the sidewalk. Wind tore at her hair and stung her face. Yesterday, she had arrived from sunny Miami to start a new job at her uncle’s office. To be battered by this God-awful wind and cold—for what? To be humiliated, rejected, thrown over like a used tissue by the man who convinced her to make this move. No way in hell would she stay in Chicago to be abused by weather without the comfort of a husband.
She turned into the high-rise and took the elevator to the eleventh floor. Rushing through the elegant mahogany door with a row of brass nametags advertising attorney specialists, she charged past an outraged secretary, on into her uncle’s office. A distinguished gentleman sitting across from her Uncle Joe, swung around and gave her an angry look. Eff you and the horse you rode in on. She slammed a down a newspaper, turned to the society pages, on the desk in front of her uncle. “Did you know about this?”
Joseph’s face turned scarlet. “Sampson, we can continue this discussion tomorrow at the Hyatt.”
The man stood, glared at Marta, and marched out.
“Dammit it, girl, what the hell has come over you. That man is a hundred-thousand-dollar-a-year client.”
“Read!”
She rocked from foot-to-foot, impatient for him to finish moving his lips as he read the article. “This can’t be your Dr. Fancy Pants. It must be some other McIyre.” His gaze returned to the paper. “Lawrence Orley Mclyre. God, it’s him. No! I did not know about this. How long have you known? Did you suspect this?”
The oxygen left her body, and like a burst balloon, she dropped to a chair. Damn it, I will not cry. “I wondered why he didn’t pick me up at the airport last night. Then it seemed odd after I went into the apartment to find a bouquet of lilies with a note saying, “Sorry.” I figured he had an emergency at the hospital and couldn’t come home. However, I didn’t know exactly why he said ‘sorry’ until I left the condo. I bought a newspaper and opened it in the cab.”
Joseph’s forehead wrinkled and he savagely rubbed it. “Only a month ago, you came here to take the exam for the Illinois bar license, and you two were all lovey-dovey and excited by your new place.” He squinted his eyes and stared at the marriage announcement. “Hell, she’s not half as pretty as you are. For it to happen so quickly, she must be some hot bed partner.” He gave her a questioning look. “You’ve always been a cool character. She must have won out in the heat competition.”
“Uncle Joseph!”
“Forget the sex problems. You spent a fortune getting him through med school and—“
“Damn it. We had no sex problems. After six years, don’t you think I’d know.”
Veins stood out on his gaunt face. “I want to kill him, choke him to death with my own two hands, cut off his cohunes and shove them down his throat.” His face fell. “Hell, I’m a respectable lawyer. I can’t do that.” He leaned back in his chair, twined his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. “We’re going to sue the bastard.”
“You are getting too excited, Uncle Joe. To hell with it. I’ll just go back home, try to get my job back, and just take my losses.”
“No, you cannot. I won’t let you do that.”
She laughed. “I’m twenty-eight-years-old and too old for you to parent. Hell, my parents couldn’t handle me in my teen years.”
“I guess there’s truth in that; however, what you don’t know is I need you. I’m getting too old and need someone to take my place. And, don’t tell me the thought of controlling a sixty-man firm doesn’t appeal to you. I know you were a gorilla in the courtroom down in Dade, and you’re ambitious as hell.”
“Do I want to stay in the town where I might run into Lawrence? How about the freakin’ wind and cold? I might not be happy in Florida, but at least I won’t freeze my ass off.”
“Yeah, but will you have the money as an Assistant District Attorney to take vacations in Hawaii, the Riviera, to the moon, where ever you want. Here, you will.”
Marta sighed. “I’m whipped. I gotta go home and bawl my eyes out. Thinking about work is too much for me to handle right now.”
“Come home with me and let your aunt tend to you. She’s a good hand-holder. Been holding mine for damn near fifty years.”
She sniffled. Actually, that sounded pretty good, but she would never admit it. “You know me better than that. I’ll just pick up a big bottle of brandy and get snookered.”
“I’m not a woman and maybe I’m meaner than you, but I’d go out and get laid. Maybe drunk, but definitely laid. If that didn’t take my mind off the bastard, I’d get laid again.” He walked around the desk, clasped her hands and lifted her up, and then gave her a tight hug. “Actually, sweetheart, you need to get mad as hell and get even.”
“Joe, you are a wonderful uncle and a darling man. At this moment, my brains are so scrambled; I don’t know what to do. I’m going now. Thanks for the advice.”
“If you aren’t here in the morning, I’m coming after you.”
She opened the door, turned and gave him a wave. Biting her lip, she forced a smile.
In the reception area, she realized tears threatened to flow at any minute. Hanging a right down the hall, she found the ladies’ lounge. Money expended liberally, the room spared no elegance or comfort. A perfect place to simply cry. Scrunching down in a plush chair, she prepared to clean the floor with tears. Instead, she thought of the years she remained faithful to Fancy Pants, the only sexual partner she ever had. Smiling, she recalled her girlfriend, Jessica, who had a bulletin board in her bedroom dotted with colored pushpins. Each pin stood for a sexual liaison. Red were for the hot ones, green stood for the moneyed men, and yellow were for the disappointments. She had more colors, but Marta couldn’t remember what they indicated.
Her friend considered her an idiot for not getting more out of life—meaning sex—and for supporting Lawrence. Jess warned this might happen—that she should secure the deal with a marriage certificate. The woman would have made a better lawyer than she was. Remembering years of neglect because of the rigors of medical training, all the wonderful things she had sacrificed to pay for Lawrence’s education, as her uncle advised, hot anger rose through her body.
I’m going to keelhaul the first decent man I see. She jumped to her feet and sped to the elevator. It remained empty until the second floor down. Still thinking about her situation, she stared ahead, eyes unfocused. A wonderful fragrance brought her to alertness, and her gaze traveled up grey, creased trousers and settle at the zipper. A masculine chuckled brought her attention up and up to the sexiest, chocolate eyes she’d ever seen. She gulped.
“I’ve always had the secret desire to stop one of these elevators and fuck the daylights out of a good-looking woman.”
She knew her face was blood red, but didn’t know if it came from shock and embarrassment or from the heat that rose from between her thighs. With quavering voice, she asked, “Did you ever?”
“Bless me, Jess!” Marta envisioned a little Jess with horns sitting on her shoulder. “Ask me.”
His hand flashed to the controls and stopped the elevator just before the third floor. His breath caught in his throat, and he rasped when he spoke. “Well, you’re certainly are beautiful in spite of the red eyes.”
Her gaze dropped in embarrassment and landed on the zipper again. The damn thing moved. He will burst from his pants. Oh, God! “For God’s sake, ask me.”
He almost leaped across the elevator and clutched her in his arms. His face cuddled between her ear and shoulder, he said, “You smell like honeysuckle. I’d like to suckle your honey. Shall we fuck?” He straightened and his erection pushed against her belly.
His words caused her vagina to clamp, causing juices to flow. She gripped her thighs together in response to the log pressing against her belly. Lord, the thing is twice the size of Lawrence’s thingie. She jerked her panties down and stepped from her fuck-me heels. Jess, I’m going to do it. Fuck on an elevator. That beats your adventure across your boss’ desk, friend Jess. By the time she could kick her underwear across the floor, he had pulled her blouse apart, lifted her bra above her breast and attached his mouth. Why didn’t Lawrence do that? It took her breath away. She clutched his head tight against her body; he suckled harder, and gently nipped her nipples. He was so tall; his body bent away from her in order to suckle at her breasts. She groaned and her hips frantically jerked. Reaching down, he slid his hand up her thigh, and slid his finger between her burning lips.
“Hmm, wet but not wet enough. I’m going to suckle your honey now.” He squatted, lifted her leg across his shoulder and then the other.
Oh, my God. Under that suave white-collar hunk of gorgeousness lives a gorilla. She pulled her skirt up out of his face as he straightened, pushing her back up the wall of the elevator. Six feet from the floor, she experienced paradise as his tongue took the place of his finger, darting side-to-side, opening her lips wide. She bucked and cried out as his tongue reached her clit. He was relentless until a wave of gushing power shot from her center to greet his tongue. Her whole body convulsed and she thought she might pass out.
“Stop!”
He untangled his head from her skirt. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s good. Great.”
“What do you want, my dear elevator wanton?”
“Inside. Please inside.”
He held her against the wall with one arm; his other hand reached below her ass, and released his trousers. They rustled as they slid down his legs. “Are you sure, baby?”
“Please, please, please.” Tears rolled down her cheeks in her desperate need for his cock.
Holding the cheeks of her ass in his large hands, he slowly slid her down his body until the tip of his penis moved between the moist folds of her pussy. “Oh, sweetheart. You are making my dream come true, and I’m going to fuck you until we both see stars. Hell with daylight.”
Dropping her lower, he entered her and gasped. “So tight. So damn good.”
Marta tried to bounce down and force his rod deep within her convulsing vagina.
“Easy, easy. One inch at the time.” His legs trembled and he locked them, his cock going deeper.
She whimpered. His cock was too big. Gripping his shoulders, she raised up until it became possible to drop down the length of his hot weapon. Her nails sank into his back as they fully connected. She threw her head back against the wall, took a deep breath and rose to drop again. Her core became molten fire.
He took over and plunged, rotated his hips, pulled out and slammed back into her. The rhythm increased. He continued as her pussy clutched him, and her teeth latched onto his shoulder to stifle screams. “I’m losing it. “
“God, I’m ready. Give it to me.” Hot spurts of cum hit the entrance to her womb. “Good, good.”
He slid to his knees with her legs around his waist. Gasping for air, his hand gripped her breasts and each nipple received attention. His breathing became normal, he placed his hands either side her face, and kissed her for the first time. “I’ll never forget this. One day, some man is going to be a lucky bastard to marry you.”
Thumping noise came through the floor. Then they heard the voices of workers.
“Scrambling apart, they hurried to straighten their clothes.”
A head popped through the ceiling hatch, and a grizzled man looked at them with concern. “No, need to bang so hard on the elevator. We came as fast as possible.”
Marta glimpsed a bit of white lace on the floor behind her stranger/lover. He caught the direction of her gaze and put his foot over the panties. The worker, still grumbling, moved out of sight and her man slipped his toe into her underwear, kicked upward, and caught them as they came down. With a smile, he slipped them into his suit pocket. “For memory’s sake.”
The door opened and Carson stepped out, leaving Marta to continue on her way. He sniffed and smelled sex. Damn, I can’t attend the meeting smelling like a whore. Striding down the hallway, he found a men’s room and entered. Fortunately, the room was empty. Snatching a handful of paper towels, he wet them and went into a booth. With his pants down to his feet, he swabbed his genitals. God, a lot of cum and woman juice covered his hair. The second he thought ‘woman juice’, his cock began stiffening. Wiped thoroughly, his trousers in place, he stepped from the booth and went to the mirror.
He ran his fingers through his dark curly hair and licked his lips. They tasted like the wild woman in the elevator. Cupping his hands, he washed his face and rinsed his mouth. As he checked his appearance, his eyes widened. “I didn’t get her number; hell, I don’t even know her name.” He checked his watch and hurried to the door. To rid himself of the anger for being so stupid, he kicked the door and almost broke his toe. At the elevator, every instinct told him to run after her. He looked at his watch and realized he was already five minutes late for his meeting. Entering the elevator, he rose two floors and found the office with a sheet of impressive, brass nameplates beside the door.
A beautiful young receptionist smiled at him. “Hi, I’m Carson Delaware to see Mr. Joseph Mason.”
She glanced down at a notebook and looked up at him. “I see you’re expected. Take the hall to the right. His suite is at the very end.”
Carson followed her instructions and went through a seven-foot-high mahogany double door. Simply walking through that door intimidated him, but he forced himself forward. What did I think I would confront once deciding I wanted the best firm in Chicago? A plump, older woman grinned at him. “Mr. Delaware?” He nodded. “Don’t let all the fancy wood intimidate you. My boss is the most down-to-earth man you’ll ever meet.”
She punched a button on her desk and announced him. A gravelly voice said, “Send the boy in.”
The secretary smiled again. “Hey, don’t mind him, everyone under fifty is a boy.” She swept her arm toward the office door.
Mr. Mason’s appearance surprised Carson. From studying the attorney’s rep, he had imagined him as a big man with a powerful persona; but the old man walked around his desk and held out a thin hands tracked with blue veins. His wrinkled face broke into a genial smile as they shook hands. “Well, my boy, are you needing a defense lawyer to help you out of a personal muddle? I have a lawyer capable of handling any contingency. Come, let’s sit over here.” He led Carson to two plush armchairs that faced each other.
Carson settled into the chair and looked directly into the old man’s face. “Actually, sir, I’m a lawyer who has bitten off more than I can chew, and hope you will agree to assign someone as co-counsel in a murder trial.”
“Why would an attorney with your years need help for such a trial?”
“That’s the problem, sir. My experience is limited to two years of practice, and I’ve never handled a murder case.”
“You had a late start?”
“Yes. I joined the Marines right out of hi
gh school and after I got out, went to college, and on to law school. I’m thirty now and probably four years behind men that went directly to college after high school.”
“Let’s hear the highlights of your case, and I’ll think it over and get back to you. Leave your phone info with my secretary.”
Marta caught a cab to her apartment. Her heart pumped erratically as she digested the event in the elevator. The cabbie stared at her through his mirror. She cringed. Can he sense what I just did and want to do again? She could smell the elevator lover’s essence emanating from her body. Oh, God. I didn’t even get his name. Her insides curled like the husk of a dead spider, remembering he didn’t ask for hers either.
The stupid driver winked at her as she handed him a bill. Heat rose into her face and she spun away from the vehicle to charge into her building. Inside her condominium, she wandered around appraising all the new things she and Lawrence selected on the visits she made in the last two months. Her nose curled. Yeah, he selected, but she paid. Paying is what she did for five years, living frugally to support his education. Never once had she resented the situation considering it an investment in her own future as his wife. Now, however, resentment boiled up adding fuel to her anger. Livid, she kicked a leather recliner—one of Lawrence’s choices.
During all that time, the son-of-a-bitch had not even given her an iota of the pleasure the elevator man gave her in a few wild minutes. She had been the model of patience when he often declared fatigue and avoided making love. Poor baby, so overworked. Marta entered the bedroom snarling. If I find one scrap of his belongings, I will—; but she found nothing on which to vent her feelings. He had cleared out and, according to the newspapers piled up by her doorway, it had been at least a week ago. If he had given her the decency of a call, she would have stayed with her job in Miami.
She walked into the kitchen, glared at the lily bouquet, and wrapped her hand around the vase. Bam! Into the garbage it went. The unexpected action shocked away the anger, and she dropped to the floor and bawled. Deleted as easily as pushing a button on a keyboard, humiliated, and six years of her life and income wasted. Alone, displaced, concerned about her career, which had taken a shot to the gut, she sobbed. Finally, she became quiet, stood by the sink with the intention of throwing water on her face, and then saw it. A damn dirty plate in the sink!
