Lovers in law

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Lovers in law Page 4

by Exley Avis


  The world might have entered the digital age but formal court dress for British barristers was still stuck somewhere in the eighteenth century. A black gown, horsehair wig, wing collar and white bands instead of a tie. It’s not a look that would have suited every man but Radford carried it off with a certain panache.

  He untied the bands, removed his shirt’s detachable collar and undid his top two buttons. When he sat down next to me I saw his hairy chest where his shirt gaped open and wanted to rip the rest of his buttons off for an uninterrupted view.

  I adore hairy men and don’t understand the obsession many have with waxing their chests. Let a man look like a real man, I say, and give a girl the chance to run her fingers through untamed territory.

  And I doubted there’d be anything wilder than Radford’s body once it was unleashed.

  Apparently unaware of my impure thoughts, he stretched out next to me on the rug, appearing even taller lying down than he did standing up. Again the image of him sprawling naked on crisp. white sheets popped into my head and I gave a heavy sigh which had Radford looking up at me quizzically.

  I quickly replaced my mental pictures with a report on girder span tolerances and tried not to drool. To take my mind off Radford’s reclining figure, I began explaining my new research to him in excruciating detail. It was difficult to make it fascinating but he seemed impressed and suggested a couple more avenues for me to explore.

  I can’t say my mind was exactly on the job. But whose would be with six foot three of gorgeousness stretched out next to them?

  “This is a great start,” Radford said. “You’ve come up with some interesting ideas.”

  “Thanks but there’s still plenty to do. Where do you want me to start?”

  I made a move to stand up but I’d been kneeling down for so long my legs had gone to sleep and my knees had locked. I winced in pain.

  Radford got up in one fluid movement and held out his hands to help me. I grasped his outstretched fingers and stood up gingerly, grimacing as feeling rushed back into my calves. I focused on the pins and needles, not on Radford’s reluctance to let me go, nor the pleasure at finally feeling his skin against mine. I remembered how well those broad palms had fitted the shape of my backside when he’d pulled me against him and I’d felt his erection against my belly.

  My insides liquefied with lust and I wanted to feel his lips on mine again – and more.

  Thank God he couldn’t read my mind.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, smiling down at me and looking as though he could hotwire straight into the area of my brain reserved for impure thoughts.

  He had the cutest dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. If it hadn’t been for the devilish way he kissed, I’d have called them angelic dimples. But his blue eyes hinted at sinful secrets I so much wanted to be party to.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I said, circling my ankles to restore sensation. “It’s just the floor’s hard and my legs are stiff.”

  I could have kicked myself. What Freudian impulse had made me slip hard and stiff into the conversation? I blushed uncontrollably.

  Radford’s mischievous smile widened into a grin, telling me he’d noticed but let it go without comment. Instead, he pointed to my laptop way over the other side of the room, obviously thinking he’d feel safer with a bit of distance between us.

  “Why don’t you carry on with your research and I’ll have a proper look at what you’ve found so far,” he suggested. “Sprawling on the floor isn’t exactly the most dignified position.”

  No, I thought. I’d much rather be sprawling naked on those crisp, white sheets of yours.

  Chapter Four

  Hard and stiff, she’d said, summing up my current physical state exactly. And I couldn’t get within a hundred feet of Allie Lawless without feeling that way. Even now, with her sitting on the other side of the room, tapping away at her laptop, I was still achingly conscious of her and relieved she couldn’t read my mind.

  Or could she?

  There was no knowing what superpowers the woman possessed. She’d certainly bewitched me the instant I’d laid eyes on her and, for a man who likes to be in control, it was a strange to be so utterly at a loss.

  From the moment she’d rounded on me in the clerk’s room that first morning, my cock had stiffened and, five days later, it still didn’t take much to make it stand to attention.

  After she’d kissed me – and there’s no arguing who’d initiated it – I’d rushed home, hoping a cold shower would drive her out of my mind. But I’d emerged naked from the bathroom with my cock still uncomfortably hard and had had no choice but to lie back on the bed and give free rein to my imagination.

  In my fantasy Allie had been naked as well, kneeling astride me and watching my hand move up and down my cock, her eyes heavy-lidded with lust and anticipation.

  I’m as proud of my body as the next man, and have lost count of the number of times I’ve touched my cock in front of a woman, but my fantasy-Allie had made it feel so much hotter than ever before. I’d closed my eyes and visualised her running her tongue down my chest and taking my cock into her hot mouth. She’d licked her lips at the taste of my pre-cum and moaned; the deep, throaty sound sending vibrations down my cock and into my balls.

  Fantasy-Allie had made me so horny I’d wanted to come in her mouth but she’d backed off with a devilish grin. She’d then looked me directly in the eye, climbed up over me and impaled her soft pussy on my shaft. Her gasp of surprise at the size of my cock had boosted my ego and she’d slid down it tentatively, her green eyes wide with pleasure. Her sweet, wet sex had clenched around me, inch by inch, and I could tell from the delighted look on her face she wasn’t used to being stretched so wide.

  Even though I’d not yet had the chance to prove it to her, I knew I’d be able to push that hot, sexy body of hers through the boundaries of pleasure and into territory no other man had taken her to.

  But I suspected she held a few surprises for me too.

  In my imagination she’d moved slowly above me, savouring every stroke along my cock, her pussy hungry for me and wanting to delay the moment we came. I’d allowed her to take control at first, until I could stand it no longer, and then I’d flipped her over onto her back, spread her legs wider and rammed myself into her with faster and faster strokes. Abandoning herself to pleasure, fantasy-Allie’s hips had picked up the tempo of my thrusts, pitching us both toward orgasm.

  She’d felt good beneath me, hot and hungry for me, her pussy wet and tight around my cock. We’d come in the same explosive moment, her ecstatic cries driving me on faster and harder and accompanied by my deep groans of satisfaction.

  Alone on my bed, my tight balls had emptied themselves and my cock had shot cum half way up my belly. Had Allie been there with me, I’d have feasted on her, kissing her from head to foot and savouring the taste of sex on her skin. I’d have made her come a second time, and then a third, unable to satisfy either my lust or hers.

  Even though I’d lain exhausted and spent against my pillows, my cock had refused to lose its hardness while Allie still lingered in my mind. My cum-wet hands had slid up and down my shaft, slippery like her imagined pussy and oh so irresistible.

  If I didn’t substitute my hand for the real thing in the very near future, I could quite possibly die of frustration before the Zeus Developments case was over.

  I ached for her. My cock ached for her. And between us, we had to find some way of having her.

  However, by the time Wednesday arrived I’d convinced myself I’d overreacted, and that a couple of weeks without a woman in my bed had made Allie Lawless seem far sexier than she was in real life. But when I’d walked into chambers and found her on her hands and knees with her perfect arse facing the door, I realised my imagination had skipped over a few important details.

  Not even a white-hot fantasy could come anywhere close to Allie in the flesh and I needed to kiss and lick every inch of that soft, honey-gold flesh before I got too m
uch older.

  Or too much hornier.

  My body simply didn’t contain enough blood to run my brain and my libido simultaneously with Allie around and, that afternoon, I found myself staring at the papers without taking in a word. I decided to call a halt. There was no way I’d accomplish anything with Allie in the same room. She was far too much of a distraction.

  And for a man who liked to win, I knew when I was beaten.

  “I think that’s enough for today,” I therefore said, breaking into her concentration as she stared at her laptop.

  Frowning, she glanced at her watch, looked surprised at how late it was and stretched her arms up high to loosen the tension in her shoulders. I imagined slipping her blouse off over her head and burying my face in the warm cleft between her breasts while she wrapped her arms and legs around me. I inhaled deeply the imagined scent of her and decided to push my luck.

  “You look exhausted,” I said. “You’ve been staring at that screen for hours. May I buy you a drink as a reward?” I made it sound like a casual invitation but I was silently begging her to say yes.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea, do you?” Allie stood up and stretched again.

  Her body was long and curvaceous with a perfect hourglass shape that would look so beautiful against my white sheets.

  “Why not?” I asked. “It’s been a long day. I’d like a glass of wine and I’d prefer not to drink alone. Where’s the harm?”

  Allie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, as if they saw a great deal of harm indeed and I could see her mentally weighing up the situation. “Where would we go?” she asked, hedging her bets.

  I’d have preferred to take her to my apartment to drink red wine from her navel but doubted she’d go for the idea. I therefore suggested a bar a couple of minutes walk from chambers.

  Catching me completely off guard, Allie smiled that heart-splitting smile of hers and picked up her jacket. “If that glass of wine could be accompanied by a bowl of pasta, I might well take you up on your very kind offer.”

  My stomach tightened in anticipation. I hadn’t expected her to want to make an evening of it. “If you’d like dinner we can go somewhere more up-market.” I had a favourite restaurant in mind where the food was excellent, the service discreet and the meal always ended with a seduction.

  Allie wasn’t falling for it though.

  “The local bar’s fine,” she said, zipping up her bag. “No harm at all in a couple of colleagues having a drink at the end of a long day.”

  She stressed the word colleagues, laying down the boundaries very clearly. I’d need to work extra hard to talk my way around them. But I always rose to a challenge, so to speak.

  The bar was already full of lawyers winding down after a tough day in court and I acknowledged a couple of my regular opponents. I saw Allie drew far more attention than I’d ever commanded from my peers so I sent her to find us a table while I bought the drinks.

  “Don’t often see you in here,” one of my sparring partners said beside me. “And certainly not in such good company.” He glanced back at Allie who’d found a table in the far corner. The guy’s eyes were almost out on stalks as they feasted on her curves. “Very nice indeed.”

  “She’s my instructing solicitor,” I said, struggling not to sound territorial but deliberately placing myself in his eye line. “We’re working on a building negligence case. It comes to court next month.”

  “Well you’d have to be built of stone not to notice the architecture on that woman.” He dodged sideways so he could see Allie around me. “I’d get nothing done if she were working with me.”

  “You know me. Never mix business with pleasure.” I fobbed him off and ordered a bottle of very good red wine, renowned for smoothing the way toward seduction.

  My fellow barrister laughed cynically. “Even a workaholic, control freak like you would break the rules for a woman like that.” He nodded towards my order. “And before you argue the point, no one spends eighty quid on a bottle of wine when it’s strictly business.”

  “They do when they pocket my level of fees,” I retorted and smiled coldly at my less well paid counterpart, unreasonably angered at being caught out. I also didn’t appreciate his lecherous interest in Allie.

  I carried the wine and a couple of menus over to her. She’d moved two chairs further back into the alcove, making our corner surprisingly discreet.

  “I’m hiding from the old lech at the bar,” she explained, nodding in the direction of the man I’d just been talking to. “Men like that make me want to go home and shower.”

  I sat down, realising I couldn’t have been given a better opportunity to ask the questions that had plagued me since I’d first met her.

  “So what kind of men do you like?” I asked.

  Hardly subtle but I was curious and Allie wasn’t a woman who gave much away.

  “Isn’t that a leading question?”

  She smiled flirtatiously as she took off her jacket. Her lacy bra showed through her white blouse and I imagined I saw the shaded circle of her nipples. I won’t say I’m a breast man, because I adore every single inch of a woman’s anatomy, but there’s something very eye catching about a pair of nipples playing hide and seek through flimsy fabric.

  Realising Allie was waiting for an answer, I reluctantly dragged my attention away from her breasts and poured us both some wine.

  “Even leading questions need to be answered sometimes,” I said, raising my glass to her. “As we’re off company time, imagine I’m someone you’ve just met in a bar and tell me what you look for in a man.”

  She didn’t take long to think about it. “Good looking obviously,” she said, clinking glasses with me and biting her lip to stop herself smiling. “Tall, dark and sexy, same as any woman.”

  At six foot three, and with black hair, I qualified on two of the counts. As for the rest, it’d be fun working it out.

  In the meantime, Allie Lawless certainly ticked all of my boxes.

  “Tall, dark and handsome is too predictable,” I said. “There must be something else.” I hoped successful barrister was somewhere close to the top of her list.

  “Intelligence,” she added, giving me a significant look. “I find that having a good brain, and not being able to use it socially, is like driving a Ferrari in a built-up area. Very restricting.”

  “So you only date men as intelligent as you are?”

  Things were looking up but then Allie gave me a look of disbelief. “How many other winners of the Melton Prize have you met?”

  “Two. You and an elderly professor of jurisprudence.”

  “Exactly. If I restricted my social life to prize winning, Oxford graduates, I’d be a very lonely girl indeed.”

  I didn’t let her verbal slip go. “That implies you’re not lonely at all.”

  She laughed and her breasts wobbled deliciously under her blouse. The nipple shadow wasn’t a figment of my imagination after all. My cock stirred at the thought of wrapping my lips around them and sucking until they grew hard against my tongue.

  Even though it’s rude to stare, I did anyway.

  “I keep forgetting I’m dealing with a man who analyses everything,” she said, taking a sip of wine. “I’ll aim to be more careful in the future.”

  “I hope not. I like reckless women.”

  Her lips glistened deep red, making me want to lean across the table and lick the wine away in full view of everyone in the bar. The taste of Allie and a good Rioja together would be intoxicating. Particularly if I were allowed to lick it off those pert nipples of hers. I swallowed unconsciously.

  “Male companionship isn’t difficult to come by,” Allie went on, seeing how distracted I was but choosing not to make an issue of it. “I can more or less take my pick. When one man falls by the wayside there’s usually another one close behind.”

  I couldn’t work out whether I was being warned off and so made a joke.

  “A string of casual relationships is
the sign of a successful lawyer,” I said.

  “In which case your past must be littered with bodies.” She looked at me expectantly and waited for me to deny it. When I didn’t, she gave me a knowing smile. “I thought as much, I knew you were a flirt as soon as I met you.”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  “Very probably.”

  A waitress appeared to take our orders, breaking the spell. I cursed silently, doubting we’d be able to reclaim the intimacy that had been building nicely in our corner, but I needn’t have worried. As soon as we were alone again, Allie leaned across the table and lowered her voice, giving me her best courtroom stare.

  “If we’re really off company time, I can ask a few leading questions about you too,” she said, pouring us both some more wine. “Dig up all the dirt.”

  “Go ahead. But I want the same privileges.”

  Her eyes widened flirtatiously and she bit her bottom lip. My cock lurched again at the thought of that hot mouth exploring the intimate areas of my body. I’m not just a self-confessed flirt, I’m also a huge fan of blow jobs. If Allie was half as skilled at oral sex as she was at kissing, I’d be a very happy man.

  Always hoping it went that far.

  “I reserve the right to keep my deepest, darkest secrets to myself,” she said, implying there were plenty.

  “Shame. Because they’re the ones I’m most interested in.”

  “I bet you are! And I suspect you have more than a few of your own.”

  The temperature in our little corner rose suddenly. I took off my jacket and rolled up my shirt sleeves, noticing how Allie’s gaze dropped to my bare forearms. I swear her fingers twitched towards them, telling me she wanted to touch me as much as I fantasised about touching her. It may have been wishful thinking but I got the impression she was having trouble keeping her hands off me.

 

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