What she hated most about the whole ordeal was no longer feeling safe in her own home. She hadn’t been able to sleep and was constantly hearing noises. She loved Leimert Park and considered it a great neighborhood. With a crazy woman terrorizing her, no place would feel safe.
“You ready?” Isabel peeked her head into the room.
Sharla glanced at the clock on her desk and realized it was twelve minutes after ten. This wasn’t like her. She consistently took the bench promptly at ten.
“Yes. I’ll be right out.”
Her cell phone buzzed and she didn’t have to check the screen to know that it was Marcel. He’d been constantly calling and texting, begging to see her. Sharla didn’t trust herself in his presence. The attraction between them was too overpowering. No matter how fantastic the sex was, her gut was warning her to stay away from Marcel Dennard. And this time, she was listening.
She hadn’t heard back from the police yet but hoped Camille Taylor was sitting in a jail cell right now. Sharla, however, was the one paying the price. Not having Marcel Dennard in her bed was like serving a sentence of her own.
When Sharla finally climbed onto the bench, she found the courtroom unusually crowded. She even noticed a reporter from Business Weekly. Today’s case was of significant interest to the business community.
Kress Pharmaceuticals, the maker of a drug for stroke victims, filed a motion to dismiss a product liability class action. The drug maker’s motion contended that California courts could not hear cases filed by alleged victims who lived outside the state. The company argued that allowing the cases to proceed would encourage court shopping and result in a flood of class actions being filed in California, where juries typically awarded much larger verdicts.
After the attorneys made their appearances, Sharla asked the moving party to commence his argument.
“Your Honor,” counsel for Kress Pharmaceuticals began, “what’s involved here is a straight-forward jurisdictional issue in which the case law is very clear.”
Sharla was only half listening. Her mind recalled having Marcel in her bed. She loved his gentleness when he tried to ease his thick manhood inside her. She’d bravely taken in his entire shaft and longed for even more of him.
She missed the man so much. Maybe she should—
“Your Honor?”
Everyone in the courtroom was staring at her. She’d zoned out for at least a couple of minutes, but she knew how to play it off. She pressed a finger to her chin and nodded as if she was in deep thought, contemplating what had just been argued.
“Okay, counselor, let’s hear what the other side has to say about that.”
The opposing counsel stood and rattled on about the fact that Kress Pharmaceuticals sold and marketed its allegedly defective drug in California and, therefore, should be sued here, even by non-residents.
Sharla let him speak for a couple of minutes, then peppered him with questions she knew he couldn’t answer with a straight face. This wasn’t a close call.
She allowed both sides to go at it a little while longer, then gently banged her gavel. “That’s it, gentlemen, I’ve heard enough. Based on binding precedent, California has no specific jurisdiction over the non-resident plaintiffs because they suffered no harm here. They weren’t prescribed the drug here, they didn’t buy it here nor did they ingest it in California. The plaintiffs are free to sue Kress Pharmaceuticals in their home states, as well as New York, where the company is headquartered, and Delaware, where they’re incorporated. Accordingly, defendant’s motion to dismiss is granted with prejudice.”
The defendant’s attorney happily collected his papers from the table. Just across from him, the plaintiff’s attorney cupped his forehead.
Sharla returned to her chambers and debated calling Marcel. Staring at the spot where he had fucked her against the wall, she could almost smell the scent of their sex. If he got his ex-girlfriend under control, maybe she would hook up with him again. She couldn’t really blame Camille. The thrills Marcel delivered in bed made him difficult to give up.
Just as she was about to call him, her cell phone rang.
“I’m just checking on you,” Reese said. “You haven’t gotten weak and crawled back into bed with that chocolate hunk, have you?”
How in the hell did she know?
“To be honest, I was just thinking about him.”
“No way,” Reese bellowed. “You’re a judge, Sharla. Stay the hell away from that man. You have way too much to lose.”
“You’re right. I have the worst luck. I finally meet a man I’m completely happy having a sexual relationship with and he comes with nothing but drama.”
“Your prince is out there, girl. Just hang in there.”
Sharla hung up the phone and decided to leave early. Although she had a pile of briefs to read, she didn’t bother to take them home. She would get to work early the next morning and tackle them then.
The only thing she was going to do tonight was take a long, hot bath then fall asleep dreaming of Marcel Dennard’s warm tongue between her legs.
Chapter 24
Marcel
Marcel sat in front of his computer drafting a strategy memo in a securities fraud case. Every few seconds, his thoughts drifted to Sharla.
Never before had he experienced such an overpowering attraction to a woman. Even now, he had to fight the urge to lock the door so he could jack off to memories of screwing her in her chambers. The fact that she was beautiful, smart, and financially independent made her even more desirable. And her fiery personality only added to the turn on.
He pulled the thong he had ripped from her body from his desk drawer and held it to his nose. It still smelled of her sex and he instantly grew hard. That day in her chambers, after locking the door, he buried his rod so deep inside her it felt like he might split her in half. He knew he was slamming into her way too hard, but he couldn’t control himself. Sex had never felt this amazing.
But Camille had ruined everything. Sharla still refused to answer his calls or respond to his texts. He was beginning to believe he might never be with her again.
Loud voices outside his office door interrupted his thoughts. He checked the time, it was just after five o’clock. This was about the time the firm commenced its Friday night happy hour up on the twelfth floor. It sounded like the whole firm was partying right outside his door. He got up from his desk and peered outside. A couple dozen partners and associates were laughing and slapping each other on the back.
“What’s going on?” Marcel asked Marie, his assistant.
“David Cook just won some big case.”
Marcel knew exactly which case and envied his fellow junior partner. Cook’s client had been unhappy with its New York-based law firm. The company retained Cook to join the case to advise on strategy. Getting it dismissed meant that Sherman & Finnegan would likely be able to ease out the other law firm completely. That would mean millions of dollars’ worth of new work for the firm, a reason for everybody to celebrate.
Marcel weaved through the well-wishers until he reached Cook.
“Congrats, my man,” Marcel said, extending his hand. “Your big win means my partnership profits just got bigger.”
“I aim to please,” Cook said with a smirk. “The judge was really impressed with our brief. She quoted from it several times in her tentative.”
“Who was your judge?”
“Ratliff in Department 19. She’s a tough cookie and very bright. Always prepared and well-versed on the law.”
Marcel froze. He could feel his pulse skyrocket.
“Uh—well—I just wanted to say congrats. I have a call I need to make.”
He maneuvered through the crowd, anxious to get back to his office.
What the hell was Sharla thinking? She couldn’t handle a case before his law firm. She should’ve recused he
rself or at the least disclosed their relationship to give the other side an opportunity to object.
He dialed her number, but she didn’t pick up because she never wanted to see him again. To hell with that. He had to talk to her.
Marcel snatched his cell phone from his desk and hurried to the elevator.
Chapter 25
Sharla
Sharla heard knocking—or more like pounding—on her front door. Her first thought was that Marcel’s crazy ex-girlfriend had returned. She grabbed the poker from the fireplace and tiptoed to the front door. Her heart raced with trepidation as she peered through the peephole.
Why was Marcel standing on her doorstep?
“What are you doing here?” she called out through the peephole.
“Just open the damn door,” Marcel demanded. “It’s important.”
She eased it open just a crack, but Marcel pushed his way inside.
“You heard the Kress Pharmaceuticals case today. My law firm is on that case. What were you thinking?”
“What? What did you say?”
“You heard me. Why didn’t you recuse yourself?”
“Because I didn’t realize your firm was on the case. Oh, my God!” She covered her mouth with both hands, then ran into the kitchen and snatched her satchel from the countertop.
Marcel peered over her shoulder as she pulled the Kress motion from her bag. There were five defense firms listed on the caption page. Marcel’s firm was the last name listed.
“I can’t believe I did this.” She turned to face him. “When I first got this case, your firm wasn’t on it. Another law firm argued the case.”
“I know,” Marcel said. “One of my partners just recently joined the defense team. But his name as well as our law firm are right there on the first page.”
“There’re a ton of lawyers on this case. I don’t even remember when your partner joined it.”
Marcel pounded his fist on the counter. “This is a problem. A very big problem. I just don’t see how you could’ve missed this.”
“I just did, okay?” she said defensively. “And don’t stand there and put this all on me. You had an obligation too. Didn’t you think it was a good idea to find out if any of the hundred plus attorneys at your firm had a case before the judge you were screwing?”
“Look, blaming each other isn’t going to solve anything.”
“Did you tell them?” Sharla asked, panicked. “Do they know about us?”
“No. And let’s keep it that way.”
“I can’t do that. I have to go to my supervising judge. It’ll be worse if I don’t report it.”
The truth was, she had been off her game since the night she first met Marcel at the dance. And after having him in her bed, she hadn’t been able to think of anything else. Even in court today, she had been reliving their incredible sex instead of giving the oral argument her full attention. If she hadn’t been so obsessed with the man, she might’ve noticed his law firm’s name on that motion.
Sharla laid her palms flat on the countertop and hung her head.
Marcel walked up behind her and squeezed her shoulders. “I’m sorry. It’s going to be okay.”
He moved in closer, pressing his groin against her ass. Before she knew it, Marcel was lifting her skirt and rubbing her butt. She wanted to tell him to stop but couldn’t find the strength to say the words.
She pushed back against him as his right hand reached around and slipped inside her panties. She was as wet as he was hard.
He kissed the back of her neck as she rotated against his hand.
Reese’s warning sprang into her head. Stay the hell away from that man. You have way too much to lose.
“We can’t do this,” she whimpered. “We’re in enough trouble as it is.”
Marcel ignored her protests. His fingers continued to expertly indulge her insatiable cravings.
“I don’t care. I want you,” he panted into her ear. “I can’t help it.”
Sharla’s words said no, but her body responded yes. She closed her eyes, trying to force her mind to overtake her body.
“I want you too,” she moaned, “but not if it means jeopardizing my career.”
Sharla clutched his wrist and pulled his hand away.
“I’m sorry, Marcel. We can’t do this.”
Chapter 26
Marcel
Stumbling into his BMW, Marcel was so pent up with sexual frustration he thought he might implode. Could he really forget this woman and move on? Right now, that seemed impossible.
He was upset with Sharla for kicking him out yet again, but he knew deep down that his anger was misplaced. She was right. Their uncontrollable lust for each other caused them to act too recklessly. They both had too much at stake.
Marcel was only a few miles away when his phone rang. Sharla’s name appeared on his navigation screen.
When he answered, sheer hysteria blasted through his speakers, filling the car with Sharla’s shrill voice.
“Someone’s trying to break in here! Please call your girlfriend and tell her to leave me alone! The police are on the way!”
Sharla hung up before he could respond.
Marcel made a U-turn and headed back toward Leimert Park. On the way, he called Camille.
“Where the hell are you?” he shouted.
“None of your business.”
“I told you to stay away from Sharla. The police are on the way there now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m in San Francisco.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me. Now I’m beginning to feel harassed. I’m at Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco. Want me to send you a picture?”
“What I want you to do is leave Sharla alone.”
“If you don’t stop calling me with this nonsense, I’m going to report you to the police.”
“I’m serious, Camille. You can’t keep—”
She hung up the phone.
“Crazy bitch!”
When he stopped at the next traffic light, his cell phone buzzed with a text. It was a picture of Camille standing in front of the Fisherman’s Wharf sign.
Was she really in San Francisco? He didn’t know what to believe.
By the time he returned to Sharla’s house, the police had come and gone.
She opened the door with a tear-stained face.
“I wanted to check on you.” He stepped inside without waiting to be invited. “What happened?”
“I swear I heard somebody in the backyard, but the police looked around and nobody was there.”
“I called my ex. She says she’s in San Francisco.”
“And you believe her?”
“I don’t know. She sent me a picture of her standing in front of the Fisherman’s Wharf sign.”
“That’s not proof. She could’ve taken that picture anytime.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
They stood staring at each other, not saying a word.
“I’m staying here tonight,” Marcel said. “I can sleep on the couch in the den.”
He could tell she wanted him to stay but didn’t want to admit she was afraid.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I have a guest bedroom.”
“No, if whoever it was comes back, I’ll have a better chance of hearing them from the den.”
Sharla marched down the hallway and returned with a sheet, pillow, and blanket. Marcel waited as she made up the couch for him.
“Thanks for staying,” she said. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I do feel a lot more comfortable with you being here.”
“No problem.”
Marcel stripped down to his boxers and stretched out on the cou
ch. It was absolutely nuts that he was in one room while the woman he ached for was in another. He wanted to go to her but feared more rejection.
A blood-curdling scream rocked Marcel to his feet. He ran down the dark hallway toward Sharla’s bedroom. He found her huddled in a corner of the bathroom wearing a loose T-shirt with no panties. He couldn’t take his eyes off the soft hairs of her beautiful bush.
“What’s the matter?”
“There’s a spider!” Sharla pointed across the room. “Please kill it! Please! Please! Please!”
Her eyes glowed with pure terror. The spider was no bigger than a dime. He took a wet towel and slapped it against the wall, killing it.
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”
“Relax, I got it.”
He started to laugh. Was this some kind of ploy to get him into her bedroom?
“Come here,” he said. She ran into his arms and he could feel her heart beating hard against his chest. She really was scared.
“Everything’s fine. You can go to sleep now.”
Marcel tried to pull away, but she clasped her arms around him even tighter.
“Please, Marcel, don’t go.”
Chapter 27
Sharla
Before she could stop herself, Sharla lifted her T-shirt over her head exposing her breasts. She brushed them against Marcel’s chest, once again enjoying the erotic sensation of his rough hairs firing sparks through her hard nipples.
Marcel wasted no time meeting her needs. He leaned her naked body against the frigid bathroom wall. She was so hot with desire for him, she barely felt the cold tile against her back.
Covering her entire mouth with his lips, Marcel sucked the breath from her. His head dipped to her breasts, alternately sucking and licking them.
Sharla shivered with each touch.
Lowering his boxers, Marcel tried to ease himself into her, but every muscle in her body clenched as she dreaded the initial pain of his enormous girth.
“I’ll go slow,” he whispered. “If you relax, it won’t hurt as much. It’ll get easier. I promise.”
Unlawful Desires (Lawyers in Lust Book 1) Page 7
