Sassy Sinclair also writes under the name Pamela Samuels Young. If you love a good mystery, be sure to check out her legal thrillers.
Books by Pamela Samuels Young
* * *
Vernetta Henderson Series
Every Reasonable Doubt (1st in series)
In Firm Pursuit (2nd in series)
Murder on the Down Low (3rd in series)
Attorney-Client Privilege (4th in series)
Lawful Deception (5th in series)
Dre Thomas Series
Buying Time (1st in series)
Anybody’s Daughter (2nd in series)
Abuse of Discretion (3rd in series)
Lawyers in Lust Novella Series
Erotic Suspense by Sassy Sinclair
Unlawful Desires: An Erotic Suspense Novella (1st in series)
Short Stories
The Setup
Easy Money
Unlawful Greed
Non-Fiction
Kinky Coily: A Natural Hair Resource Guide
Unlawful Desires
Goldman House Publishing
ISBN 978-0-9997331-0-3
Copyright © 2017 by Sassy Sinclair
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or used in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, including, but not limited to, xerography, photocopying, and recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the express written permission of Goldman House Publishing.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, dialogue, incidents, companies, organizations, and places, except for incidental references to public figures, products or services, are the product of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. No character in this book is based on an actual person. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and unintentional. The author and publisher have made every effort to ensure the accuracy and completeness of the information contained in this book and assume no responsibility for any errors, inaccuracies, omissions, or inconsistencies contained herein.
For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact the author or Goldman House Publishing.
Cover design by VanessaMedozzi.com
Printed in U.S.A.
For Sharlene Ratliff Moore,
Who encouraged me to take my writing
to a whole new level and go buck wild.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Excerpt of Unlawful Desires
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 1
Sharla
Sharla Ratliff finally figured it out. The key to protecting her heart turned out to be rather simple: think like a man and act like one too.
All that Steve Harvey crap about not giving up the cookies hadn’t worked out for her. Her last serious boyfriend wasted three years of her life. Five months after dumping her, Paul the Prick married some skank he met at the Starbucks on La Cienega and Centinela.
Every guy after him heaped on more hurt, though in much smaller doses. Sharla blamed her dating disconnections on the overabundance of phony, self-centered, knuckleheads in L.A. After taking herself off the market for an entire year, she was now ready to dip her baby toe back into the dating pool.
At 34, she was determined not to repeat the mistakes of her past. Her new dating rules were simple. No emotion. No expectation of commitment. Sex purely for her own physical pleasure. Guys enjoyed sex for what it was without hopeful thoughts of a relationship or even a call the next day. So would she.
And in just a matter of minutes, Sharla planned to put herself to the test with the man sitting inches away from her.
As Derrick steered his Escalade into her driveway, she leaned over and started massaging the bulge in his lap.
“Girl, you’re something else.” Derrick’s hand instantly tightened around the steering wheel. “I can’t wait to get with you.”
Sharla winked. “Good things come to those who wait.”
Derrick’s hazel eyes pinned her with a look so hypnotically lustful Sharla had to bite her lip to choke back a whimper. His titillating gaze would’ve melted the old Sharla right out of her red lace panties. Thank goodness that girl no longer existed.
“I like kickin’ it with you, Sharla.” Derrick’s voice had a raspy smoothness to it.
“Is that right?” She daintily cocked her head to the right. “Tell me more.”
“All through dinner I kept telling myself how lucky I was to even be in your presence. You’re beautiful. You’re smart as hell. You’re only nine years out of law school and you’re already at the top of your game. You’re every man’s dream.”
Sharla turned to peer out of the passenger window so Derrick wouldn’t see her eyes cross in skepticism.
“I bet you say that to every woman you date,” she teased.
Derrick’s strong fingers squeezed her thigh, just above the knee. “No way. I’ve never met a woman like you before. I swear.”
Normally, Sharla would’ve swatted away a hand landing that close to her goody bag on only the second date. But tonight, New Sharla was in charge.
Not that Sharla discounted everything coming from Derrick’s lips. She was pretty darn amazing. At five-eight, her body was tight and toned from years of competitive-level tennis. She dressed with the flair of a fashion model and enjoyed showing off legs even Beyoncé would envy. Her annual income topped six-figures, she owned her own home, and already had enough cash in her 401K to dump her day job if the desire ever arose. But the legal profession was a big part of her identity. She wouldn’t be giving that up anytime soon.
Derrick cut off the car, then leaned over and pressed lips as soft and sweet as a glazed donut against hers. The man deserved an A-plus in the lip-locking department.
“Let’s go inside.” He threw open the door and jogged around to help her out of his SUV.
Sharla’s feet had barely grazed the ground before Derrick curled his arms around her body like an over-anxious octopus. The firm tube jutting from his mid-section pushed against her stomach.
They kissed long and slow for several minutes before Derrick pulled away. “We better get inside or your neighbors are going to witness an X-rated s
how.”
Sharla giggled as he took her hand. When they reached the front door, she handed him her keys. It was important to allow Derrick to be in control. Or at least think he was.
Her best friend Reese didn’t believe she would be able to go through with this. Sharla wasn’t that kind of girl. She hungered for true love and longed to find her soul mate. But that hadn’t worked out. It was time to try something new.
So here she was about to get laid with no expectations whatsoever. If she never saw Derrick again, so what? At least she would have a night of fun under her belt.
Once they’d entered the house, Derrick pulled her into his arms again. He was much thinner than she liked her men. Although she found him attractive, he wasn’t her kind of attractive. Sharla preferred thick, well-built guys with a manly, not manicured style. Derrick was a pretty boy with light eyes, thin lips, and a shaved head.
For her first attempt at acting like a man, Sharla had intentionally selected a guy she wasn’t physically wild about. That, she assumed, would help keep her emotions in check.
“I swear I’ve been dreaming about getting with you,” Derrick mumbled, brushing her ear with those cottony-soft lips. “No female has ever got me this horny before.”
Probably because your cute behind never had to wait two weeks to get some.
Sharla made the bold move of calling Derrick the day before and inviting him to spend the night at her place. The man had become so tongue-tied with excitement he could barely form the words to accept her invitation.
Taking Derrick’s hand, Sharla led him down the hallway toward her bedroom. She turned on the crystal lamp on the nightstand and a soft, blue haze bathed the room with a sexy, nightclub ambiance.
Standing on her tiptoes, Sharla whispered into his ear. “Tell me what turns you on. I want to give it to you exactly the way you like it.”
“Damn, baby,” Derrick panted. “Everything. Everything turns me on.”
Sharla set him down at the foot of the bed, then stepped back and did a slow strip tease, sliding the spaghetti straps of her black dress off her shoulders and down her smooth arms. Once her dress, bra and matching red panties lay in a puddle on the floor, she stood with her hands on her hips, allowing Derrick to admire her nakedness.
No matter what her other issues were, body image wasn’t one of them. Her D cups stood as erect as twin doorknobs, hovering over a waist so tiny Derrick could encircle it with both hands. Her proudest attributes, her legs, were as long and sturdy as a prize stallion’s.
“I can’t believe I’m about to get with you,” Derrick muttered as he unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his pants. Still sitting, he ripped open a condom. His hands moved so fast he had trouble unrolling it and barely got it on.
What? No foreplay?
After a year of celibacy, Sharla deserved a lover with some sensitivity, not to mention skills. He hadn’t even had the decency to ask what she liked. Did he even care about her feelings?
Old Sharla was trying to resurface, but New Sharla fought her off.
Just do it. For once in your life, experience an orgasm with no expectation of anything except fun.
New Sharla was right. She should just go for it. She was about to get busy with a man for whom she felt no emotional connection whatsoever. And that was progress.
Or was it?
Derrick gazed up at her, his tongue wagging like a thirsty German Shepherd. “C’mon, baby. Big Daddy is ready. Bring it on.”
She closed her eyes and tried to psyche herself up just as Old Sharla popped back into her subconscious. Shame on you! You’re acting like a slut.
It wasn’t a good sign that her gift box was as dry as the Sahara Desert.
“C’mere, girl.” Derrick licked his lips as he reached out for her. “I’ve been dying for some of this.”
The second his fingers grazed her waist, Sharla pushed his hands away and took a giant step backward, out of his reach.
“Um, I—I changed my mind,” she blurted out.
Snatching her dress from the floor, she covered her nakedness with a curtain of regret.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t do this!”
Chapter 2
Marcel
“The longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be,” Layla warned her brother. “Just rip off the Band-Aid and move on.”
Marcel leaned back in the booth and stared across the table at his baby sister. He’d just spent the last hour complaining about his girlfriend Camille. He’d made up his mind to break up with her this weekend.
“Thanks for not saying I told you so,” he said, sipping his cognac.
Layla was his most trusted adviser. They met for happy hour whenever they could find time in their crazy-busy schedules. McCormick & Schmick’s in El Segundo was one of their favorite spots.
“If you really want to thank me, then the next time I tell you you’ve picked the wrong woman, believe me.”
Marcel wondered when his sister had become so wise. Staring into her face was like looking into a mirror. The family resemblance between the pair was so strong that people often asked if they were twins. Both had chocolaty smooth skin, high cheekbones, and full, kissable lips. Marcel was a broad-chested six-one. In heels, Layla was only a few inches shorter. She had even followed him into the practice of law.
As a junior partner with the litigation firm Sherman & Finnegan, LLP, Marcel had all the trappings of success. A career he enjoyed, a hefty bank account, and a Redondo Beach home with a view of the Pacific Ocean. Only the relationship part was missing. His plans did include getting married and fathering a couple of kids. Eventually. But so far, he hadn’t met a woman who made married life look more attractive than bachelorhood. The way he saw it, time was still on his side. He was only 36.
Camille had been the court reporter on one of his cases. During breaks in the deposition when no one else was around, they joked and flirted with each other. By day three of the deposition, Camille made her intentions clear. As she straddled her little machine, she opened her legs just wide enough for Marcel to see that she wasn’t wearing any panties.
As soon as the case settled, Marcel asked her out to a movie and dinner. They never made it to either. When he stepped into her apartment, she was wearing a dress so short, showing off legs so long and sexy he forgot how to breathe. She bent over to collect her purse, exposing her bare ass.
“You want it now?” she asked, turning around and accurately reading the lust in his eyes.
“Hell yeah.”
He screwed her right there on her living room carpet. The girl was a freak with a capital F, good to go anytime, day or night. Even now, the thought of the acrobatics she performed in bed made his dick swell with satisfaction.
Other than her proficiency in the bedroom, though, Camille didn’t have much else to offer. He was still kicking himself for missing the signs Layla detected five minutes after meeting her.
“How’d you peep her out so quickly?” Marcel asked his sister.
Layla pursed her lips. “A blind man could see Camille wasn’t about nothing. When you brought her to my barbecue on the Fourth of July, all she did was brag about herself. She should’ve had insecure stamped across her forehead. You were just charmed by her long legs.”
Marcel winked. “That would be true.”
Some men liked big breasts or huge behinds, but Marcel was a bona fide leg man and Camille’s were as long as stilts. He was also a bona fide sap when it came to breakups. He hated it when a woman cried, so he would avoid a confrontation for as long as possible. Unfortunately, he’d let the situation with Camille go on way longer than it should have. There was no way to avoid a drama-filled breakup now.
“She’s probably the type to start whining and crying. Don’t let it get to you,” Layla cautioned, as if reading his mind. “Women like that can’t be man-less for long. She
’ll latch onto another guy before the end of the month.”
With her incredible legs and her proficiency between the sheets, Marcel had no doubt that she would.
“You need to go solo for a little while,” Layla urged him. “Instead of hopping from woman to woman, spend some time by yourself. Get to know you. I dare you to spend six months without a woman in your life.”
Marcel blinked. “Six months? Women can do that. Men aren’t built like that.”
He’d already been mentally thumbing through his little black book to figure out who he would call off the bench once Camille was out of the picture. He had at least six or seven women to choose from.
Layla frowned and folded her arms. “Okay, three months then. You can certainly go three months without sex, can’t you?”
Marcel laughed. “I don’t know, I’ve never tried.”
She leaned across the table and punched him in the arm. “Guys have it way too easy.”
“Only because women make it so easy for us.”
“I’m serious, Marcel. Spend some time getting inside your own head. And when you’re ready, choose a woman who’s about something.”
“Okay, okay. Maybe I will take a break.”
Marcel’s phone buzzed and he pulled it from the pocket of his jacket. He read the screen, then smirked across the table.
Layla arched a brow. “That smile looks dangerous. What’s up?”
“I’ll give that three-month hiatus thing a try,” he told her, “but not right now.”
“Why not?”
“That was Rex. The Black Women Lawyers Association’s dance is next week. That’s when all the professional sistas turn out in droves. I definitely need to be up in that mix.”
Layla shook her head. “You’re such a dog.”
Marcel drained his glass and winked. “Bow wow.”
Chapter 3
Sharla
“What the fuck!” Derrick’s face scrunched up in anger. “What kind of freakin’ game are you playing?”
Sharla turned her back to him and squirmed into her dress. “I’m sorry. I—I changed my mind. You need to leave.”
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