A Total-E-Bound Publication
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Chocolate Temptation
ISBN # 978-0-85715-022-6
©Copyright Aurora Rose Lynn 2010
Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright January 2010
Edited by Michele Paulin
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road
, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
Sex in Session
CHOCOLATE TEMPTATION
Aurora Rose Lynn
Dedication
To everyone who loves a little spice with their chocolate.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Oil of Olay: The Proctor and Gamble Company
Marriott: Marriott International, Inc.
Kia Spectra: Kia Motors Corporation
Old Spice: The Proctor and Gamble Company
Chapter One
Charlotte Heplewich, whom her close friends called Charlie, wanted sex in a bad way. Arranging for a man who wanted the love-em’-leave-‘em kind of sex wasn’t easy in the family courtroom filled with spectators and the attending litigants. Charlie kept her eyes on the judge who was her likeliest candidate, an appealing man in his mid-fifties—if, and that was a big ‘if’, she could get him to notice she was more than a bailiff.
“He’s pretty sexy,” she heard one of the females at the back of the courtroom whisper to her older, female companion who did nothing but frown. Though Charlie was trained how to handle most situations that crept up in court, she wouldn’t care to meet that woman in a dark alley in the middle of the night. Charlie sighed. That frown could kill.
Enough of that, and back to the hunky judge. Charlie desperately wanted to walk to the front of the courtroom, face the judge, rip open her bland khaki bailiff’s shirt and cry out, “What do you think of these?”
What would the judge do? What would he think?
He might roll his eyes and dismiss her with prejudice. Or he might kiss her sensitive nipples to drive her wild. Or he might just stare at her with those gorgeous blue eyes, just as other men did when she strolled by. She had what her ex-husband, Gary, had called ‘big jugs’. Yeah, and that’s why he had to go cheating on her after twenty years of marriage with a bimbo who had celebrated her first birthday the day Gary and Charlie had been married. Charlie had learned marriage wasn’t for keeps in this day and age. Look at how busy the family court was.
One of the double doors at the back of the room opened, and her daughter, Celeste, stuck in her head and asked in a loud whisper, “Hey mom, have you done him yet?”
A multitude of heads turned to gawk them with questioning eyes. Charlie could have fallen on the floor and died right there and then. Only once, she’d mentioned to her daughter that she’d love to get into bed with the judge, and from that time on, Celeste had made a joke of it.
At the front, the judge must have noticed the turmoil in the rear of his courtroom and pounded his gavel on his desk.
“Is there a problem back there?” he demanded in the gravelly, authoritative voice Charlie loved. If he came with chocolate and whipped cream, she’d order him right up.
Not a thing except for wanting sex and plenty of it.
“No sir,” she replied, surveying the court as if something might have gone wrong.
“We think you’re a gorgeous hottie,” the young woman shouted and cast a smirk in Charlie’s direction.
Yeah, younger women, like that woman, always attracted the older men first, regardless of whether said guys were married or not. There was something about their tight, firm, young bodies that men immediately fell in love with.
The judge winced and settled his gaze on the prosecutor. “Overruled!”
Charlie couldn’t see the prosecutor’s expression from where she stood, but she’d bet the young man was as flummoxed as she was. What had Edgar Hanks overruled? That he was sexy, attractive and had a big package?
“So have you?” Celeste persisted, her head still poking around the open door.
Celeste’s day had probably ended early in the next room where she was a court reporter. Charlie leaned closer, smiled sweetly and whispered, “When was the last time I took you over my knee and spanked you?” It hadn’t been in quite a while, maybe fourteen years or more. Celeste was twenty-four now. Where had the time gone?
“You might use that line on the judge. He’ll think it’s kinky,” Celeste retorted, flashing a wide grin.
Charlie gave up the pretence of being angry with her oldest daughter. “The competition’s something fierce.” Like the dozens of young women who ogled him constantly.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re thinking the judge would compare you to all those young bodies and choose something else.”
The proceedings droned on and on in the background, voices in a disembodied haze.
“Yeah, something less full-chested,” Charlie muttered. It was hard to find a bra in her size. She had to have them specially ordered.
The door opened wider, and her youngest daughter poked her head inside. “Who’s getting divorced today? Who’s having to pay child support for a kid who isn’t theirs?”
Charlie groaned. On the rare occasions when her daughters put their heads together and confabbed, she was in major trouble.
Celeste took over. “No one’s doing any of those things. And Mom hasn’t had sex with the judge yet.”
Marly clasped her hand to her chest, heaved a deep sigh and rolled her eyes upward. “Oh my. We’ll have to do the right thing then and get some action cooking here.”
“No way,” Charlie interrupted her daughter’s theatrics. “The last time you two ‘cooked’ up a party, I got laid for two solid nights.” Not that she’d been averse to sex with a younger hunk who was insatiable in bed, but a woman her age wanted more. If she could only figure out what it was.
Celeste giggled. “Divorced women…”
Marly added, “You can’t blame us for trying to find you Mr. Right.”
“Where did you two get minds that are so stuck in your underwear?” Charlie had no idea how she’d raised two sex fiends. Still, at their age, she expected their hormones to be stuck in overdrive.
“Court dismissed!” the judge shouted from his bench with a glare in Charlie’s direction.
Marly ran her fingers through her tousled hair. The dark circles under her eyes indicated she hadn’t slept in a while. “We better get outta here or else we’ll be trampled to death. Then no nookie for us.” With an ear-to-ear grin, she disappeared.
Charlie heard the clic
k of her high heels on the polished marble floor outside in the hallway.
“Me too,” Celeste said, moistening her lower lip. “It’s like bulls rampaging to free themselves.” She pecked Charlie on her right cheek. “Remember that line about spanking. Judge Hanks will love it!” Then she vanished, too.
“Ms. Heplewich!” Edgar Hanks called out from his bench as he got to his feet. “In my chambers!”
Charlie nodded to acknowledge his blunt request. What did he want this time? She’d already taken his shirts to the dry cleaners and picked up his favourite brand of cigars from the tobacco shop. Maybe he needed more coffee, or clean underwear, or—
It was futile to speculate. She got all worked up simply being near him.
She stood aside as the people made their way out through the double doors. Maybe this one time she’d be brave enough to unbutton her blouse and show him what she had underneath this shirt.
* * * *
Edgar Hanks was still hot and bothered after watching Tessa and Ian Newbury making out yesterday afternoon. He’d wanted to join them and make a threesome, but some things, like sex in a marriage, a couple had to work for themselves.
He pulled off his black judge’s robe, clamped his broad-rimmed cowboy hat on his head and stuck an unlit cigar in his mouth. If he didn’t have sex soon, he’d explode. His penis had been rock hard all day long and his nuts just ached. Man, it had been one painful day. Looking at Charlie Heplewich’s big breasts didn’t help either.
He sat in his executive’s chair and toyed with a pencil before he booted up his laptop by jamming his thumb on the ‘on’ button. Charlie was pure woman and, he confessed to himself, she turned him on so badly, he wanted her with a fierce intensity that hurt him right in the guts. Naked, and sweaty, and hot, and oh Christ, to think of his cock sliding into her cunt, that was pure heaven.
Edgar stood and paced. From his desk to the window and back again like a panting, caged lion, waiting, hungry for anything in which to set its teeth. When the woman in court had shouted he was a hottie, his gaze had caught Charlie’s. She’d swallowed hard and averted her eyes, which were an unusual shade of green, like a quiet sea about to surge before a storm. He’d been forced to acknowledge she could be more than his bailiff. A lot more.
Charlie had done something different with her light-brown hair. Gold glinted off it as if someone had scattered gold dust in the fine strands. He smacked his lips together, unable to stop thinking about her breasts. It would take an hour or more to explore, to taste, to savour each delicious, soft globe. Edgar shivered, noting his cock was straining against the zipper of his trousers. Man, but he was hurting.
Charlie had been with him for what? Two years? And every second she was in the courtroom or completing some task he’d invented so she’d be close to him drove him crazy. That woman was a real ball-buster, with curves that made Marilyn Monroe look out of her league. A tiny waist and slender hips were enough to make any man eat out of her hand.
The door opened softly. “Yes, judge?”
He sighed. Charlie was finally here. Showtime! Immediately, he sat behind his desk to hide his erection. “What were you and your daughters whispering about earlier?” He was curious, that’s all.
Charlie stood in the doorway, giving him the impression she’d run if given half the chance. She ran her pink tongue over her lower lip, and he would have jumped out of his seat and kissed her if he hadn’t reminded himself to slow down. She’d been married to a cheating bastard. Not that Edgar’s record was great either. He’d been married three times to women who’d wed him for nothing more than the prestige of being a judge’s wife. Edgar felt pretty certain Charlie wasn’t like that, but how could he be sure?
“Was it about me?” he asked, as the seconds ticked by. The room suddenly smelled like a bouquet of recently picked flowers.
“Um, yeah,” she replied, but her eyes didn’t meet his. She swallowed hard, and her chest rose and fell with her ragged breathing.
“Right. Why don’t you close the door?” He felt sorry for her. He was about to ask her to do something he normally wouldn’t, but he knew she was discreet. What went on in the judge’s chambers stayed there.
Quickly, he shut off his laptop.
“This door?” she squeaked, giving him a wary look.
He nodded. “Yeah, that one.” Not that there were too many other doors in his chambers.
Gingerly, she stepped inside, turned and quietly closed the door. For the briefest moment, she rested her forehead against the wood before she straightened and faced him. “You wanted to see me?”
Oh man, he should have seen that pun coming. Oh yeah, but he wanted to see her. Naked, her breasts swinging in his face, her sensitive nipples puckering into tight peaks. He’d taste them in his mouth as, one by one, he plucked them with his needy lips.
“My computer won’t start up.” Edgar knew it sounded lame, but what other excuse could he invent to bring her closer?
She seemed to be rooted to the floor. “Did you check to see if you plugged it in?” Giving a little laugh, she shrugged. “You know how sometimes you forget.”
He’d tried that ruse a number of times before it had gotten too old to be reused. He wanted to get close to her for several weeks now, but she appeared jittery when she came close to him so he hadn’t pursued her as strenuously. “I tried that.”
“How about the ‘on’ button? Did you try that?” She still didn’t move, but her gaze was searing hot. Did she want him, too?
Nodding, he kept his gaze on her. “I tried that, too.” Another ruse he couldn’t use any longer.
“I guess I’ll have to come over there and take a look at it then,” she whispered so quietly he barely heard her.
His heart pounded against his chest wall, and the blood roared in his veins. “Yeah, I guess.”
Yet, she still didn’t move forward.
“Charlotte,” he said, using her given name although he knew she preferred her nickname, “what’s going on with you?” She’d never been tongue-tied or motionless before. “Is it your girls?”
She shook her head and blinked several times.
Something was going on. “Your ex?”
She mouthed the word ‘no’, but he didn’t hear any sound.
“Is it something someone said?”
This time she nodded and barely croaked out, “You really are a hottie.”
Charlie couldn’t believe she’d just said that. She might as well run from the awkwardness of her confession or rip her clothes off and parade in front of Edgar naked. One should never talk to a judge as if her head was in her panties. He could fire her on the spot for that.
“Really?” he asked, his brows furrowing together.
Here was her chance to tell him how much she desired him, his bare skin resting against hers, his hard lines nestled against her soft curves. From a dry throat, she managed, “There’s nothing wrong with your laptop, is there?” Why would he request her assistance when he could just as easily figure things out for himself?
“It won’t boot up.” His gaze wavered somewhere to her left.
Likely story. He wasn’t telling the truth. She could immediately tell from the slight hunch of his shoulders. Edgar was an upright, honest man and lying came hard for him. “I like your cowboy hat, but the cigar might pose a problem in the courtroom.”
“I’m not planning to wear the hat or puff on a cigar there.” He tugged it from his mouth and slammed it on the desk. “It’s not lit anyway so save your speech about how smoking causes lung cancer.”
“I wasn’t about to tell you any such thing.” But it did cross my mind. It’s the loving, caring mother in me. “I was just admiring your hat.” Charlie decided enough was enough of the banter. It wasn’t leading anywhere. Hell, if she’d told Gary he was a hottie, he’d have been all over her, hot and heavy. Edgar Hanks hadn’t fallen for that.
For some inexplicable reason, he groaned. “I still can’t start my computer.”
&nb
sp; As if he’d tried. He barely moved a muscle. Those blue eyes, which normally saw through people and their bullshit lies pretty accurately, seared through her. Yet, now he wanted her to look at his computer?
“Men are nothing more than helpless babies,” she muttered under her breath as she forced herself to move forward, one reluctant step at a time. Were men so blind they couldn’t see when a woman was attracted to them? Apparently, the judge could be accused of that offence.
“What did you say?” he asked mildly as she rounded his desk.
Charlie couldn’t keep her eyes on the laptop’s keyboard. She tingled with awareness at Edgar’s nearness, his masculine presence, and the virility that radiated from him like a lighthouse beacon. Once she was behind the desk, he couldn’t hide the fact that he had a mega hard-on bulging against the crotch of his trousers.
The laptop suddenly forgotten, she pointed at his groin. “What’s that for?”
He gazed up at her with those oh-so-blue eyes, the ones that made her curl her toes and want to shimmy out of her already wet panties. Her nipples beaded under the shirt, painfully sensitive against the light cotton.
“Charlie, at your age I would think you would know,” he berated her lightly.
The age thing again. “Why, how old do you think I am?” she asked, imitating an old Oil of Olay commercial where a much younger woman asked the same question. She did have a few wrinkles and a couple of visible stretch marks here and there.
Yet Edgar wasn’t a spring chicken either. A few strands of silver peppered his black hair that was cut in short military style, and he appeared ten years younger than his real age of fifty-five.
“I’m not falling for that one,” he muttered. “Not after three wives.”
Compassion welled in her and brought tears to her eyes. “I’ve been divorced once. I can’t imagine three times.”
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