“I can take it.” The competitive part of her had a hard time admitting defeat at any task. She was determined to please him as much as he pleased her. “I want every inch of you.”
In a slow glide that made her scream out his name, Marcel drilled deeper and deeper into her as they rode a wave of intense desire.
He pulled out and carried her to the bed, his hot tongue sliding in and out of her mouth as he walked. Placing her gently on the bed, Marcel spread her legs and tasted her, his tongue igniting shockwaves as it explored every crevice of her pink folds.
Sharla tried to speak, but all she could do was whimper.
Taking both of her wrists in one of his hands, Marcel stretched them high above her head. With his free hand, he nuzzled a finger inside and finger fucked her until she was nearly delirious.
He released her hands and hovered over her, preparing to enter her a second time. She flinched as he burrowed himself into her, the initial discomfort of his bulk a little less painful this time.
Sharla felt faint from the explosion of fireworks ravaging her body.
“Talk to me,” Marcel ordered. “I want you to talk to me.”
“I—I—can’t,” she cried out. “I can’t even think. All I want to do is feel you.”
He rammed her harder. “You like this? Tell me you want this dick!”
“I want it! I swear I do!”
Sharla could barely catch her breath. Marcel was out of control, pounding her so hard her back ached.
“I’m close,” he roared, violently shuddering as if firing hot bullets into her.
Sharla climaxed amid a hail of shrieks while Marcel’s orgasm went on and on and on. He finally collapsed, all of his body weight bearing down on her.
“Marcel,” she huffed, “you have to—”
“Yeah, I know.” He jerked himself out of her and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be out of your way in just a second.”
He was about to stand up when Sharla seized his elbow.
“No, don’t leave. I was just trying to tell you that I couldn’t breathe. I want you to stay.”
Marcel kept his back to her. “Why? You afraid there might be a spider in here too?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.
Sharla sat up. Her repeated rejection had obviously wounded him.
“Forget everything I said. Forget about your crazy ex-girlfriend. Forget about our ethical obligations.” She kissed his back. “I don’t care about any of that. Right now, I just want you in my bed. All night long.”
Chapter 28
Marcel
Marcel and Sharla spent the entire weekend together, a significant part of it in bed. They did take a breather long enough to catch a movie, go for a walk along the Redondo Beach pier, and prepare Sunday dinner together at Marcel’s place.
Marcel had never experienced anyone like Sharla before. She was the first woman he enjoyed out of bed as much as he did in bed. Their relationship was something he wanted to continue well beyond just a weekend. She might even turn out to be worthy of him giving up his bachelor card.
Over the weekend, they spent hours sharing their secrets and dreams. Marcel had never been so comfortable sharing his feelings. The truth—not the bullshit he told most women. Things like despising many of the partners at his law firm and finding litigation boring. Sometimes he felt as insecure as a first-year associate. Junior partners were relegated to the bottom of the partner barrel, feeding off the crumbs of the senior partners. Marcel didn’t have the skills or the desire to be a rainmaker and hated wining and dining clients. Most of the younger partners were content being workhorses—performing the day-to-day casework—in exchange for a fat paycheck. But money alone wasn’t enough to make him happy.
By Monday morning, Marcel didn’t want to leave Sharla’s side. They made love yet again before he headed to the office.
It was close to ten when he arrived at work. As soon as he got off the elevator, his assistant ran up to him.
“Something’s up,” Marie told him. “Stein’s been calling me every fifteen minutes asking if you’re in yet.”
Only then did Marcel remember the strategy memo for Goodwin Securities. He was supposed to get it to the managing partner by eight that morning. After hooking up with Sharla this weekend, he forgot all about work.
“Thanks for the heads up. I’ll handle it.”
He’d already completed most of the research and would only need a couple of hours to get it in final form.
As he sat down in front of his computer, his phone rang. He could see from the caller ID that it was Sol Stein, so he picked up.
“Mr. Stein would like to see you at one o’clock,” his assistant said.
Marcel breathed a sigh of relief. That was more than enough time to finish the memo.
Three hours later, Marcel read the document for a third time and was rather impressed with himself. At his level, Marcel ran the case while Stein provided occasional strategic advice and attended important client meetings. Of course, the managing partner would take the lead if the case actually went to trial, with Marcel serving as second chair.
Marcel printed out two copies of the memo and walked the short distance to Stein’s corner office. As soon as he entered, he sensed that he’d been blindsided. He knew instantly what this meeting was all about and it had nothing to with the memo he spent the morning fine-tuning.
Stein wasn’t alone. David Cook and the head of Human Resources were seated on a couch near Stein’s desk.
“Have a seat.” Stein motioned him toward a chair opposite the couch. Stein got up from behind his desk and took a chair adjacent to Marcel.
He tried to make eye contact with the Human Resources director, a woman he knew well. She refused to meet his eyes.
“I don’t believe in pussy footing around,” Stein began, “so I’ll cut to the chase. Are you screwing Judge Sharla Ratliff?”
When Marcel first learned that Sharla had presided over the Kress case, he knew there’d be trouble, but he didn’t expect it to go down like this. If he had, he would’ve been better prepared. He needed some time to gather his thoughts. Too late for that now.
“I guess your silence answers the damn question,” Cook fumed. “Not only did you fuck the judge, you just fucked me as well as this firm. Kress Pharmaceuticals is outraged over this. The plaintiff’s counsel is using your relationship with the judge as the basis to overturn our motion.”
Cook and Marcel both finished law school the same year. He didn’t appreciate Cook talking to him like he was some flunky junior associate.
Marcel still hadn’t figured out how he was going to play this. He advised his clients to always tell the truth. But if the truth would only hurt you, just keep your mouth shut.
Stein eyed him with a mix of irritation and disappointment. The man had mentored him since his days as a young associate. Marcel was only the third African-American to make partner at the firm. This screw up wouldn’t just affect him, they’d use it as an excuse not to hire other African-Americans. Of course, when a white boy screwed up, they didn’t apply the same rules.
“Yes, I’ve been seeing the judge,” Marcel reluctantly admitted. “But only for a short period of time.” He thought about explaining that Sharla wasn’t aware of the firm’s connection to the case, but then they would realize that he and Sharla had discussed it.
If the truth would only hurt you, just keep your mouth shut.
“When we were celebrating the verdict on Friday, you specifically asked me who the judge was.” Cook’s accusatory words flew out of his mouth like poisonous darts. “Why didn’t you say something then?”
“I was too stunned,” Marcel said, before he could stop himself.
“That was three days ago. Plenty of time for you to become un-stunned.”
Marcel wanted to know how his relationship with Sharla had
come to their attention but figured he would find out soon enough.
“But no,” Cook went on, “I had to get ambushed by a judicial misconduct allegation filed by my opponent.” He pointed at a document on the coffee table separating them. “According to his declaration, some anonymous woman called and told him a partner at this law firm was screwing the judge and that’s why she decided the case in our favor.”
That bitch Camille. Marcel’s face grew hot.
“Do you know how many millions you’ve cost this firm? Not to mention the damage to our reputation if this situation becomes public,” Cook continued to rant. “Even if a different court upholds the ruling, Kress Pharmaceuticals has already notified me that they’re firing us. Said they don’t want to be associated with an unethical law firm. There’s no telling how many clients this could cost us.”
Stein leaned forward, clasping his hands. “The Management Committee will be discussing your status shortly. This also has to be reported to the Bar. In the meantime, continue working on the cases you have, but you’re prohibited from making any court appearances or attending any client meetings until further notice.”
Marcel stood, anxious to leave. When he stepped back into the hallway, the series of averted eyes told him the firm’s rumor mill was already on high alert over his predicament.
There is no such thing as having it all, he thought to himself. He’d finally found his dream woman but totally destroyed his career in the process.
Chapter 29
Sharla
Sharla floated into the courthouse on wings of happiness. Her weekend with Marcel had been like a fantasy. They had connected on so many levels. And she was proud of herself for not spoiling things by dwelling on whether they had a future together. The glorious present was the only thing on her mind.
She had barely sat down at her desk when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” she said, assuming it was her court clerk. Instead Steven Checkoff, her supervising judge, lumbered into her office. He was a tall, reedy man who resembled a tech geek.
Sharla greeted him with a cheery smile. “Good morning. What’s going on?”
Judge Checkoff didn’t respond. Instead, he closed the door and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. He was carrying a thick case file.
“We need to talk.”
“Okay,” Sharla said, her rosy demeanor still on display. Nothing could dampen the afterglow of her thrilling weekend.
“I just received this motion.” He slid a document across her desk. “The plaintiff’s counsel in the Kress Pharmaceuticals case is accusing you of judicial misconduct.”
In a split second, all the air evaporated from the room and Sharla couldn’t breathe.
“They claim you’re engaged in an intimate relationship with Marcel Dennard, a partner at Sherman & Finnegan, one of the firms that represents Kress. The motion says you failed to disclose your relationship with Mr. Dennard. Please tell me that’s not the case.”
Although Judge Checkoff was technically her supervisor, he functioned more like a mentor. Checkoff was the person Sharla talked to about difficult cases and relied upon for moral support. Having to sit before him now and admit to misconduct was more than humiliating.
“At the time I heard the case, I didn’t realize Sherman & Finnegan represented Kress. My relationship with Marcel played no role in my ruling. Check the case law. I decided that motion exactly the way it should’ve been decided.”
“C’mon, Sharla. You know this has little to do with the facts. It’s all about appearances. You should’ve recused yourself or at least disclosed your relationship on the record and requested a waiver from the plaintiff.”
“But I didn’t realize Sherman & Finnegan was even on the case.”
Judge Checkoff opened a folder, pulled out another document and set it on the desk. “The firm’s name is right there on the caption page of their motion. How could you not know?”
“There’re five law firms representing the defendants,” she said. “Sherman & Finnegan was the last one listed. They weren’t on the case when it was initially filed and another firm argued the motion on Friday. It was an unfortunate oversight.”
The judge shook his head. “I’ll have to present this to the presiding judge.”
Sharla had no idea what the penalty would be. Why would she? She never expected to be facing disciplinary action as a judge.
“What’s going to happen to me?” she asked, still shell shocked over the mess she was in.
“Your conduct violates the Cannon of Ethics. It’ll be up to the presiding judge to determine what kind of corrective action should be taken.”
Judge Checkoff wasn’t being straight with her. “What’s the worst-case scenario? Could this get me kicked off the bench?”
“That’s usually not the case for a first offense,” he said. “But sometimes, these things can get political. Judge White can be a jerk at times, so kowtow to him if you have to. As presiding judge, he has full discretion to issue a verbal or written reprimand or refer the case to the CJP, which would then initiate an investigation. That would probably result in a much tougher sanction.”
By much tougher, she knew he meant that the CJP—the Commission on Judicial Performance—could recommend her removal from the bench.
“Is this the first time you’ve failed to disclose a conflict?” Checkoff asked, as if he was seeking a confession.
“What? Of course it is.”
“It also appears that you recently heard a discovery motion in which Mr. Dennard actually appeared before you. Is that correct?”
“We weren’t seeing each other then.”
“So you began dating him after he appeared in your court?”
“No—I mean, yes. I met him briefly at the Black Women Lawyer’s dance and then—”
Trying to explain would only make matters worse.
“It’s not how it looks,” she said.
Reese’s warning to stay away from Marcel pounded her temples like a throbbing migraine. Sharla couldn’t believe how reckless she had been with her career.
And now it might be over.
Chapter 30
Marcel
Marcel desperately needed to speak to Sharla. He wanted to warn her about the judicial misconduct allegation. When she didn’t respond to his multiple calls and texts, he suspected Sharla had likely already undergone a dressing down like the one he had just endured.
As he drove home, he thought about the walls that were about to come down on his life. Screw the firm. He could find another job. But could he find another woman like Sharla Ratliff? If their relationship got her kicked off the bench, she would never forgive him.
Against his better judgment, he reversed direction and drove to Sharla’s house. They had to figure out a way out of this together.
Paranoid as he was, he parked up the street and walked the short distance to Sharla’s house. It was close to dusk. As he reached her house, he realized that he had probably drawn more attention to himself by walking up the street in his Hugo Boss suit than he would have if he had parked in her driveway.
Instead of knocking on the front door, he slipped through the back gate. He knew he had to be careful not to scare her. The back deck no longer held any furniture, just the fire pit, which blazed with yellow and orange flames. Peering through the large, sliding glass doors, he saw Sharla sitting in the den, wineglass in hand, staring off into space. Even from a distance, her dark nipples were visible underneath the tight, white tank top she was wearing. A red thong was the only other item of clothing she had on.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there before Sharla noticed him. She shot up from the couch, splashing wine onto the floor.
For several seconds, they just stood there, staring at each other.
Sharla walked over and
opened the sliding glass door.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know. But I had to talk to you.”
Marcel stepped inside and she didn’t object. They both sat down on the couch. She remembered the spilled wine and got up to retrieve paper towels from the kitchen.
As she bent down to wipe up the spill, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the thong that separated her luscious butt cheeks. He wanted to charge across the room and kiss each cheek, then mount her from behind right there on the floor.
After tossing the wine-soaked paper towels into the trash, she returned to the couch, sitting farther away from him this time and he was glad. It was hard to think straight with her being so close.
“My managing partner just read me the riot act,” he said. “Shall I assume something similar happened to you?”
She nodded.
Marcel swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“How’d they find out?” she asked.
“Someone called the opposing counsel. Anonymously.”
“Your ex?”
“I don’t know for sure, but probably.”
She shook her head.
Silence filled up the room and neither of them spoke for a long time.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” Marcel said.
“And how do you know that?”
“I just do. So what happened to you?”
Sharla recounted her meeting with Judge Checkoff. “I have an appointment with the presiding judge next week. Best-case scenario, I’ll get off with a reprimand. Worst case scenario, I’m off the bench.”
“They won’t kick you off the bench.”
“Let’s hope. Do you know I’ve never even had a traffic ticket?”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, trying to fight the urge to run his hands up and down her thighs.
He stood up. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I don’t blame you,” she said staring up at him. “I’m an adult. I knew the risk I was taking by getting involved with you.” She smiled. “And to be honest, it was worth every minute.”
Unlawful Desires (Lawyers in Lust Book 1) Page 8
