Unlawful Desires (Lawyers in Lust Book 1)

by Sassy Sinclair

  “A woman or a man?” Marcel asked.

  “A woman for sure.”

  “Do you remember what kind of SUV it was?” Sharla asked.

  “A Range Rover.” The man scratched his head. “It might’ve been silver. Or maybe white. Hard to tell in the dark.”

  “Damn.” Marcel rubbed the back of his neck. “That was probably my ex.”

  Chapter 17

  Sharla

  Sharla waited until her neighbor was safely back inside his house before exploding.

  “So you have a stalker girlfriend?” she fumed. Her voice carried the stern edge she used on the bench. “Don’t you think that’s something you should’ve mentioned to me?’”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend,” Marcel snapped. “Or a stalker.”

  Sharla glanced up and down the street. She saw the living room curtains part in the house next to Mr. Kemp’s. She couldn’t afford to be the talk of her neighborhood. “Let’s go back inside.”

  The minute the door closed, she lit into Marcel.

  “You just said you think your girlfriend keyed your car. And based on what my neighbor witnessed, she was also snooping around in my backyard. That qualifies as a stalker.”

  “I don’t know for sure that it was her. She has a silver Range Rover. But she’s never done anything crazy like this before.”

  “I can’t have this kind of drama in my life,” Sharla seethed. “You need to tell your ex she’s messing with a judge. If she wants to go to jail, I can definitely put her ass there.”

  “Like I said, I don’t know for sure that it was her. So don’t try to impress me by throwing your weight around. It was my car that was keyed, not yours.”

  “But your little nutcase came onto my property.”

  “I should be asking if you know anybody with a Range Rover. Maybe it was another dude you invited over for dinner and kicked out of bed as soon as he came.”

  “Sorry I hurt your little feelings by not having time to cuddle.”

  “You didn’t hurt my feelings. You have to care about somebody to have feelings and right now, I don’t feel shit.”

  “Good. Neither do I. So we don’t have a problem.”

  Sharla marched over and jerked the door open. “Like I said, I have to be up early tomorrow.”

  Marcel opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind and calmly strolled to his car.

  Chapter 18

  Marcel

  Marcel didn’t know who he wanted to strangle more, Sharla or Camille.

  As soon as he pulled out of Sharla’s driveway, he dialed Camille’s number. His call went straight to voicemail.

  “You need to call me A-S-A-P!”

  Not even a minute later, Camille called back.

  “Are you fuckin’ crazy? Do you realize the number of crimes you just committed?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Play stupid if you want to. But what you just did at a minimum constituted stalking, vandalism, and trespassing—trespassing on the property of a judge in case you didn’t know.”

  Camille paused, which told Marcel she didn’t know Sharla was a judge.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she stuttered. “I swear.”

  “You drove your very identifiable Range Rover all the way from Carson to 2nd Avenue in Leimert Park tonight and keyed my car. You were also snooping around in the backyard. I know that because a neighbor saw you.”

  More silence.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I see you didn’t waste much time finding a new woman.”

  “Who said I found a new woman?” Marcel shot back. “I just said I was at a judge’s house. I didn’t say whether the judge was male or female.”

  “I watched you through the bedroom window fucking that whore!” Camille screamed. “Yeah, I keyed your fucking car. If I’d had enough time, I would’ve busted out the windows too. We’ve barely been broken up a week. How could you do this to me?”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. Thanks for your confession.”

  She began to sob.

  “I’m going to do you a favor. And I’m only going to do it this once. I’m not calling the police on your psycho ass, but if you ever come near me, near anything I own or anyplace I visit, your ass is going to jail. Do we have an understanding?”

  Camille continued to cry. “I love you and you said you loved me. I don’t understand how you can make love to another woman.”

  “Just stay the hell away from me!”

  Marcel hung up the phone. He hoped he never laid eyes on Camille again.

  Too bad he didn’t feel the same way about Judge Sharla Ratliff. As mad as he was, he still wanted her. His crotch began to throb as he remembered how great it felt being inside her tight snatch.

  The thought of not being able to have her again made his heart ache.

  Chapter 19

  Sharla

  Sharla had just returned to her chambers after a long day on the bench. She was still reeling from her incredible night with Marcel Dennard. Until the incident with his car, their no-strings-attached tryst had proceeded according to plan. But then it all blew up.

  As hard as she tried to convince herself otherwise, it hadn’t been just sex between them. She was really feelin’ him and longed to have him in her bed again. And the fire between them in bed couldn’t be denied. Just thinking about him made her shiver with ecstasy.

  She checked her cell phone. Reese had called twice and left three text messages. The last one made her burst out laughing.

  I’M DYING TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR DINNER LAST NIGHT

  WITH THE CHOCOLATE HUNK. CALL ME OR ELSE!!!

  Sharla dialed Reese’s number.

  “About time. So did you go through with it?”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay. And…”

  “Girl, it was the best sex ever. Part romance novel, part porn movie.”

  “So what’s next? More emotionless sex?”

  “Nope. I don’t plan to ever see him again.”

  “Something is definitely wrong with you, girl. If the sex was so off the chain, why aren’t you going to see him again?”

  “He has some baggage that I just don’t need.”

  Sharla told Reese about Marcel’s car being keyed and his suspicions that it was his ex.

  “Okay,” Reese said, “a crazy ex-girlfriend might definitely be a reason to exit stage right. But does he know for sure that it was her?”

  “Who else would’ve done it? My neighbor said the woman was also creeping around in my backyard. I don’t need that kind of drama.”

  “Yeah, I would have to agree with you on that. But what if he gets Ms. Fatal Attraction under control. Would you see him again?”

  Sharla paused. Hell yes.

  “Naw, I’m moving on,” she lied.

  “Sounds like the right thing to do.”

  They hung up. Before she could put down her phone, there was a knock on the door and Isabel, her court clerk, stuck her head inside.

  “There’s someone waiting to see you,” she said.

  “Who is it?” Sharla asked, assuming it was another judge.

  “An attorney by the name of Marcel Dennard.”

  Chapter 20

  Marcel

  Marcel stepped inside Sharla’s chambers and waited until the clerk closed the door before speaking.

  “Before you say a word, I’m just here to apologize. I talked to my ex about what happened. At first she denied keying my car, but seconds later she confessed.”

  “What about snooping around in my backyard?” Sharla asked.

  “She claims she only peeked over the fence and didn’t actually go back there.”

  Marcel wasn’t about to tell Sharla tha
t Camille had been looking through her bedroom window, watching them have sex. That revelation would likely send her off the deep end.

  “I had no idea she’d do something like that. But she won’t be bothering you or me again.”

  “Thanks for letting me know. But you could’ve called.”

  “I know. But I wanted to see you again.”

  His words had seeped out before he could catch them and stuff them back down his throat.

  “I had a hearing upstairs,” he continued.

  Instead of heading to his car once it ended, his feet—or more accurately his middle leg—led him directly to Sharla’s chambers.

  “Did you win?”

  “Yep. The judge wasn’t half as sharp as you are.”

  They both smiled.

  “So is that it?” Sharla asked.

  She was such a bitch, Marcel thought. He was used to women creaming over him, but Sharla treated him like a fleck of dirt on her lapel. Still, he couldn’t deny his desire for her.

  “Yeah, that’s it. So I guess I’ll be going.”

  “I was just about to leave myself.” Sharla stood and removed her purse from her bottom desk drawer. “I’ll walk out with you.”

  She rounded her desk and began to unzip her robe. Marcel walked up behind her.

  “Let me help you.”

  He stepped closer, his groin grazing her ass, and eased the robe down her arms.

  Once she was out of it, Sharla took her time turning around. When she did, she leaned forward, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She started grinding her hips against him, their bodies drawn to each other by some hypnotic spell.

  Marcel cupped the back of her head, letting her robe fall to the floor. He ran both hands underneath her silk blouse and pinched her nipples, then bent to taste them.

  Sharla whimpered as she fumbled to unbutton his pants and unzip his fly. Her hands were soft and warm, her breathing labored as he nursed at her breasts.

  Easing Sharla’s skirt down her hips, Marcel’s right hand dipped into her tiny thong. She was already soaking wet with anticipation, which urged him on even more. With a curved finger, he massaged her nub, which caused her whole body to shudder. Remembering how fast she came in the elevator and not wanting to reward her with that pleasure just yet, he turned his attention to her smooth thighs, lightly grazing them with his nimble fingers.

  Damn, I love these legs.

  He tried to lower her thong but got frustrated and just ripped it off. The thin, lace fabric easily separated and he stuffed it in his back pocket. Gripping her butt cheeks, Marcel hoisted her in the air and pressed her back against the wall. Her legs effortlessly curled around his waist.

  Their lips were entwined now, ravenously trading sloppy, impassioned kisses. They feverishly thrashed against each other, so drunk with desire nothing could stop them. Marcel was close to coming and he wasn’t even inside her yet.

  “The door,” Sharla mumbled against his lips. “Lock the door.”

  Chapter 21

  Sharla

  As Sharla drove home, she was convinced that she was losing her mind. Not only had she hooked up with a man with a lunatic ex-girlfriend, she actually screwed him in her chambers. Without a condom no less. She wasn’t just playing Russian roulette with her job, she was doing it with her life.

  Once they’d climaxed—again simultaneously—her sanity returned, propelling her back to reality. She had unfurled her legs from around his waist as he lowered her back to her feet. Hurriedly pulling on her skirt, she suggested that he leave by himself in case her clerk was still at her desk.

  They’d said nothing. No thank you. No see you later. No mention of a future date.

  On the one hand, Sharla felt like a first-class slut. On the other, she was intoxicatingly satisfied. Marcel Dennard ignited in her a craving no man had ever provoked before and each time she saw him, her desire for him only grew. The attraction between them was simply out of their control.

  Intellectually, she understood the danger continuing to see Marcel Dennard could pose. It was best to stay far away from him. But emotionally, she wanted to take the risk. Even now, the very thought of him made her moist all over again.

  Pulling into her driveway, Sharla cautiously looked around before exiting the car. She hoped Marcel was right that his ex wouldn’t pull a repeat performance. But crazy people do crazy things because they have no impulse control. Hopefully, the fact that Sharla was a judge was enough to scare her off from a repeat performance.

  She put the key in the door then hit a button on her key ring cutting off the alarm.

  It was almost seven. She kicked off her shoes and peered into the refrigerator, which was almost empty. Maybe she would order a pizza. What she really had a taste for was more of Marcel Dennard.

  Everything was going according to plan. Sharla was acting like a man and thinking like one too. Not once had she thought about a commitment from Marcel. All she wanted was to enjoy his hard body. She was indeed quite proud of herself.

  Walking into the den, she opened the blinds. Floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors looked out onto a deck with a fire pit and expensive lawn furniture. When she turned on the backyard light, she screamed out in horror and dashed back into the kitchen. She pulled her phone from her purse and dialed Marcel’s number.

  “Your ex lied to you!” she screamed into the phone when he answered. “She just vandalized my backyard. You call that bitch right now and tell her she’s going to jail!”

  Chapter 22

  Marcel

  When Marcel received Sharla’s call, he hopped into his car and rushed over to her place. On the way, he called Camille.

  “What now?” she asked dryly.

  “I tried to protect you, but now it’s out of my hands. I told you not to pull any more craziness. Now you’re going to jail and there’s nothing I can do to help you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You just vandalized the backyard of a judge. She’s calling the police.”

  “I didn’t vandalize anything.”

  “Yeah, just like you said you didn’t key my car then admitted it.”

  “Marcel, I’ve moved on. Don’t call me again.”

  The phone went dead.

  Marcel called her back.

  “Leave me alone!” Camille snarled when she picked up.

  “Do you understand what you did? I can’t protect you. You’re going to jail.”

  “I’m not going anywhere because I didn’t do anything and you can’t prove that I did.”

  “That sounds like another admission.”

  Camille hung up on him again.

  As soon as Marcel turned onto Sharla’s street, he saw a police car parked out front. He pulled into the driveway and jogged to the front door. When no one answered, he hurried around to the back of the house.

  What he saw blew him away. The cushions of Sharla’s expensive lawn furniture had been ripped to shreds, its stuffing strewn around the backyard like tiny white clouds.

  He ran up to Sharla, who was answering questions from a Latino police officer.

  “You know the woman who did this, but you don’t know her name?” The cop’s expression was skeptical.

  “No, but he does.” She pointed at Marcel. “It’s his girlfriend.”

  Marcel swallowed. As much as Camille pissed him off, he still didn’t want to see her in any legal trouble.

  “What’s your girlfriend’s name, sir?”

  “She’s my ex-girlfriend,” Marcel corrected him. “Her name’s Camille Taylor.”

  “And do you also have reason to believe she did this?”

  “I called her on the way over here. She swears she didn’t.”

  Sharla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, just like she initially denied keying your c
ar then admitted it.”

  “Is that true?” the officer asked.

  Marcel inhaled. “Yeah.”

  He gave the officer all of the information he requested, including Camille’s address, phone number, and employer.

  A black cop stepped onto the deck from inside the house. “Nothing seems to be disturbed inside.”

  Once the officers left, Marcel followed Sharla into her kitchen.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was like this. I swear.”

  Sharla poured herself a glass of wine but didn’t offer Marcel one.

  “I’ll make this up to you. I promise.”

  Sharla rolled her eyes. “Exactly how do you plan to do that?”

  “For one, I’ll replace your backyard furniture.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I have insurance.”

  He walked over and pulled her into a hug. Her body melted against his. In seconds, his erection strained against the fabric of his pants.

  Sharla gazed up at him and he brushed his lips against hers, their tongues greedily lapping at each other.

  Marcel pushed her back against the counter, dropped to his knees, and started licking her pink pearl.

  She screamed and shuddered, which told him her body craved his tongue as much as he longed to share it with her again. Marcel had a firm grasp on her thighs just above the knee but not firm enough to stop the violent thrashing of her pelvis. Seizures of pleasure ricocheted through her like a wildfire.

  “Marcel, we can’t keep—”

  To hell with her protests, Marcel thought. He wasn’t going to stop until she came, and once she did, he was going to thrust himself inside her and not stop until she came again.

  Sharla shoved his head away.

  “No,” she said. “We can’t do this. Your ex-girlfriend messed everything up. I can’t risk having this foolishness in my life. You have to leave.”

  Chapter 23

  Sharla

  More than a week had passed since Sharla kicked Marcel out of her house for the second time. Ever since his nutcase ex-girlfriend vandalized her backyard, Sharla’s nerves were rattling around like coins in a tin can.