Naked Treats

by Pepper Anthony

  No more Sunday breakfasts with Rose. No more naked breasts dipped in Hollandaise, no perfect ass framed by the apron ties, no creamy thighs, no luscious mouth coaxed into a smile. No polite conversations about the weather, no sports scores predicted, no menus planned.

  It was true, he could see plainly now, that they hadn’t really spent much time together. But he knew what he needed to know about her. She was caring and determined and smart and sexy. And her body fit together with his like a soft, lovely glove on his hand.

  Damn it. He’d blown it with her, and he didn’t see any way to fix things between them. A painful sense of loss settled over him as he showered and dressed then wandered into his office to check his email. There was a message from his assistant about the prison break, which reminded him to call Phil for an update on the situation at Mid-Orange. There was nothing new to report. While he had him on the phone, he asked Phil what kind of an inmate Mike Phelps was. Trouble-maker? No. Good kid who fell in with the wrong crowd, keeping his head low, doing his time.

  As Zack hung up, an idea struck him.

  He made a couple more calls, then changed into a business suit and left the apartment.

  The following morning, Sunday, Zack waited hopefully for the scrape of Rose’s key in his door. Maybe she had changed her mind and would show up, willing to take up where they had left off. Or perhaps she would drop by to return his key. At the very least, she would call him to say she wouldn’t be there. But he didn’t hear from her, and on Monday there was a voice mail from the employment agency officially terminating his contract with her. Her key came in the mail two days later.

  Chapter Eight

  “Is anything wrong dear?” Millie Hunt looked up from her lunch of lentil soup and fruit salad with a concerned expression.

  “Wrong? No. No. I’m fine,” Rose assured her. She put a few tea biscuits on a saucer and brought them to the table along with a cup of Millie’s favorite decaf, heavily creamed. She set them by the woman’s plate and turned back toward the kitchen.

  “You’ve just seemed a little down all week, dear. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Just tired.”

  The fact was that she was exhausted from lying awake the last few nights worrying about Mikey. She’d be going to see him in a couple of days, and she’d have to tell him that she’d lost her Sunday client, the one who was paying her extra. How could she bear to disappoint her little brother after practically promising he’d be home for Christmas?

  She had hoped the agency would find her a suitable new client to replace Zack Cranston, but so far that hadn’t happened. And she refused to consider his offers to resume their former arrangement. Yes, he’d called her several times on her cell phone, apparently having stored her number following her call to him two weeks earlier. She’d listened to his first voice mail message and deleted the others without listening. So what if he’d been an incredible lover? The last thing she needed was to get sucked into some kind of distracting sexual relationship with him. And she certainly couldn’t continue to take his money for cooking if they were sleeping together. The boundaries would be far too blurry. She didn’t for a minute believe his protestations that they could simply resume a business relationship.

  “Well, you let me know if there‘s anything at all I can do to help,” Millie said, her voice deepening just enough to catch Rose’s attention. The woman’s eyes gleamed as they roved over Rose’s bare breasts.

  “Thanks. I’ll do that,” Rose said, wondering if she’d shortly have to replace her weekday lunch client as well.

  ****

  On Sunday, Rose waited in the family visiting room, her stomach twisted into anxious knots. Then Mikey came through the metal door, his face splitting into a broad grin the moment he saw her. He hurried forward with a new spring in his step. Rose’s heart ached.

  As soon as they hugged and sat down across from each other, she covered his hand with hers.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Me first. Me first.”

  “Okay.” She could wait a few more minutes to break her brother’s heart.

  “I’ve got a new attorney.”

  Rose blinked. This was the last thing she’d expected. “What?”

  “An attorney from Feinstein, Jackson and Lowe came to see me last Saturday. They’re taking my case at no charge.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. Mr. Cranston reviewed my case and says he’s gonna file an appeal right away. He’s sure he can get me off.”

  “Mr. Cranston?” Rose’s heart stuttered. “Your new attorney is Zack Cranston?”

  “Yeah. He says he used to know you. Isn’t this great, Rose?”

  Rose nodded, her mind spinning. “And they’re taking your case pro bono?”

  “If that means for free, then yeah. No charge. Mr. Cranston says they have a budget for a certain number of free cases every year. It’s lucky he happened to hear about mine. Now you don’t have to work so hard, sis.”

  “Yes, that’s very lucky indeed.”

  On the shuttle bus home she struggled to process this latest bit of news, but her feelings refused to be pigeonholed into a convenient category. On the one hand she felt a great sense of relief. Earning the extra money for Mikey’s attorney would no longer be an issue.

  But her relief was tinged with suspicion and resentment. She’d been clear with Zack Cranston. Their relationship was over. How dare he presume to worm his way into her good graces again, using Mikey as his unwitting tool? The more she thought about it, the madder she got.

  ****

  The offices of Feinstein, Jackson and Lowe occupied the thirty-eighth, thirty-ninth, and fortieth floors of an exclusive Manhattan skyscraper. The express elevator ride itself was an adventure for Rose when she arrived there Monday morning, dressed in her only business suit and a pair of heels that were killing her feet.

  “I’d like to see Mr. Cranston, please,” she told the pinch-faced women behind the huge, teak reception counter.

  “Do you have an appointment, miss?”

  “No. But I believe Mr. Cranston will see me. My name is Rose Phelps. My brother is one of his clients.”

  The woman sniffed, then spoke briefly into her headset. In a moment she nodded. “His assistant will be right out.”

  But Zack himself came out through the double doors a minute later, causing the receptionist to flutter about like a wounded bird. In two strides he reached Rose’s side, his eyes full of concern and gladness.

  “Rose! How wonderful to see you. Let’s talk in my office.”

  She simply wasn’t prepared for the effect seeing him would have on her. She had thought herself immune, especially after the stunt he was trying to pull. But in his charcoal suit, dress shirt, and tie, she thought he was perhaps the most beautiful man she had ever known. His subtle but expensive cologne teased her nose and set her heart racing, reminding her of the taste of his skin. He held out his crooked elbow and, before she knew it, she had slipped her hand through it and allowed him to lead her down a thickly carpeted hallway where low lights caressed expensive oil paintings displayed on grass cloth walls. At some point they went through a door into a smaller waiting room where an older woman sat at a computer. She looked up and smiled warmly at them.

  “Betty, this is Rose Phelps, Mike’s sister. We’ll be in conference. Please hold all my calls.”

  “Yes, Mr. Cranston,” said Betty as they walked past her to a second door.

  Once inside his office, Zack captured her hand before she could move away. Looking up into his face, Rose felt her belly do a crazy flip. Was he going to try to kiss her? She backed up.

  “Mr. Cranston—”

  “Zack.”

  “All right. Zack. I understand you’re taking Mike’s case.”

  “That’s right.” His body angled in. She felt his warm breath on her cheek. Tingles began in certain intimate parts of her body.

  “And that you think he has a good c
hance at appeal.”

  “Yes I do.”

  She stared up at him.

  “Why? Why are you doing this?”

  “Our firm has a special budget for pro bono cases like Mike’s. The kid deserves a new trial.”

  “Yes. I know he does. But is that the only reason you’re doing this? Because I don’t want you to get some crazy idea that I’ll—”

  “What? That you’ll fall into my bed, Rose?” he interrupted, his eyes crinkling with mocking laughter. Oh those eyes. She thought she might swoon. She stamped her foot.

  “You can’t buy me, Zack, if that’s what you’re hoping.”

  He turned and strolled across the room, picked up a pen from the top of his enormous desk, laid it back down.

  “Maybe getting to you was in the back of my mind when I first met with Mike. I felt plenty pissed off when I woke up and found you gone, Rose. I thought we had a pretty special night together.”

  “We did,” she allowed, remembering all too clearly the pull of his lips on her nipples, the thrust of his cock between her quivering thighs.

  “I’m glad you remember it that way too. I freely admit I was reaching for some way to reconnect with you.” He gave a deep sigh and sat down in his leather chair, leaning back, interlaced fingers cradling his head. He looked at her as he spoke. “But after I talked with Mike and reviewed his case file, I became convinced I should help him regardless of our status.”

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly. “As long as we’re both clear that I’m not sleeping with you again.”

  His eyes smoldered. She waited for some insolent response. It would be just like him to remind her of how easily she had bent to his will once before. A memory flashed through her mind; her body reflected in his entry way mirror, naked and willing as he played with her pussy. Heat rushed up into her face.

  But he seemed not to notice. His expression was bleak, his voice flat. “All right, Rose. If that’s what you really want. I’ll help your brother, no strings attached.”

  “No strings,” she echoed, nodding.

  ****

  Zack watched as Rose turned and went out the door. Betty would escort her to the main reception area. He would stay here in his cave and lick his wounds.

  Damn. He’d been such a fool to think this gesture of representing her brother would change things between them. But he had to try, didn’t he?

  Besides, the kid was innocent, he was sure of it, and deserved the chance to prove his innocence in court. But it was going to be hell sitting in the courtroom with Rose there, right behind him, her lush body telegraphing all manner of sexy vibes to his beleaguered mind. She’d looked so hot just now in her slim navy suit and button-down blouse. She’d worn her hair in some kind of shining knot low on her neck and looked, for all the world, like an ultra-conservative business woman. But he knew better. Beneath that staid exterior beat the heart of a sexual vixen.

  He let his eyes close, imagining his fingers loosening the knot of hair so it fell around her face in a bronzed sheaf. Then those tiny buttons would come undone, one by one, and he’d slide his hands inside her shirt to find her braless. Oh yeah. Nipples already hard and standing at attention, just for him. And under that plain blue skirt? Garters and stockings and not a stitch more.

  He shifted in his chair to ease his discomfort, sighed, and opened his eyes. Then he grabbed Mike’s file to go over the details one more time.

  Chapter Nine

  Snow drifted down in lazy fat flakes as Rose stepped from the cab and made her way up the courthouse steps. It was closing arguments day, the final day of Mikey’s trial. Today she would sit in her customary chair behind him and listen as both sides summed up their cases. Zack would speak last.

  She felt certain he would win. Over the past two months, as the trial unfolded, she’d become convinced that no one could have defended her little brother better. Zack was smart and adept, at ease with all phases of the legal process. But more than that, he was truly passionate about justice. As she looked into the faces of the twelve jurors, she could see his passion reflected there. He had gotten to them. They had bought in to Mike’s innocence, as they should have. Her brother might be home free by the end of the day. She had every reason to hope for that.

  In the hallway outside the courtroom, she caught sight of Zack at the water fountain. Her heart skipped a beat or two as he straightened and looked at her, smiling, seeming genuinely glad to see her.

  “Today’s the day, Rose.”

  “Yes. I–I can’t thank you enough, Zack. No matter how the trial turns out, you were wonderful.”

  “We’ll win,” he said simply.

  “Yes, I think so too.”

  “What about afterward?”

  “Afterward?” Her heart fluttered. Was he asking her out?

  He’d stood by his promise not to bother her for all these months. At some point along the way she’d begun to regret that she’d made him promise that. Was it seeing him day after day, fighting so eloquently for Mikey’s freedom? Was it his broad shoulders, his smile, the way he smelled when he walked past her? Was it the way the other women buzzed around him like a swarm of bees at a lantana bush? Or was it all those factors? Rose wasn’t sure. She just knew she had an ongoing ache in her chest in the approximate location of her heart.

  “Yeah, after we win. Are you taking Mike out for a celebration dinner?”

  “Yes. I guess we are.” Lizzie would be in court today, too, and the sisters had discussed treating Mike to a five-star restaurant dinner. He said he wanted pizza instead, at his favorite neighborhood hang-out. So the plan was to go to Angelo’s. Assuming everything went well with the jury.

  She smiled at him. “You want to join us for pizza and beer?” Of course he’d have better things to do, fancier places to go.

  Zack hesitated, seeming to weigh the pros and cons as if showing up for pizza later was some kind of federal case. “You’re on,” he said finally.

  ****

  A four o’clock that afternoon, the jury came back after deliberating for only two hours. They asked to go over the file of new evidence Zack brought to light, and then they had voted unanimously to set Mikey free.

  Lizzie leaped up, screamed with joy, and reached across the bar to hug their smiling brother.

  Rose went absolutely numb.

  Was the ordeal really over? After more than two years in prison, would Mikey really be coming home with them tonight? A cluster of bodies pressed in around them, surging and crowding at the defense table. Rose struggled to breathe. Somehow she stood and reached out, grasping her brother’s hand, then losing hold of it in the crowd. Lizzie kept squealing and bouncing up and down. And then the flow of bodies carried Rose out into the aisle and through the courtroom doors.

  She waited in a quiet corner. Finally Mikey and Lizzie found her there. The three of them stood for several minutes in a close huddle, hugging. Rose felt the tears start in earnest then. It was over. Really over.

  ****

  Zack parked his BMW on a side street and walked the half block to the seedy little pizza place. Through the window he spotted Rose and Mike and the sister Lizzie, plus several other well wishers, seated at a long table near the back. He’d stopped at home first to change into jeans and t-shirt, and he was glad he had. He would have stuck out like a sore thumb in his Armani suit.

  Inside, the air was thick with the fragrant odors of hot cheese and fresh crusty bread. A TV over the bar blared a basketball game. He stopped at the counter and ordered the beer on tap, a dark ale, then took his cold mug to the table. As he approached, Mike looked up and saw him and waved him over.

  “Glad you could come, Zack. You’re the man of the hour.” Mike had to shout to be heard over the noise.

  “I think you’re the man of the hour, Mike. I just did my job.”

  “Whatever. Glad you could make it.”

  He slid into a rickety captain’s chair across the table from Rose and Lizzie.

  “Hi,” he mouthed.
Both sisters smiled at him. But then Lizzie looked away, distracted by something the young man next to her said; and Rose continued to stare directly at him.

  “Thank you,” she yelled over the din.

  “You’re welcome,” he yelled back. The atmosphere certainly didn’t lend itself to the more intimate conversation he’d hoped to have with her.

  But something felt different, he realized. She wasn’t avoiding making eye contact with him. In fact, she held his gaze almost as she had on that night in his bedroom so many months ago. As he registered that fact, his pulse sped up and his cock stirred.

  Or was he imagining her interest in him because he wanted it to be true?

  She looked beautiful, as she always did to him, in a simple, dark green sweater and black slacks. The sweater hugged and defined her breasts, and he wondered if she was wearing a bra. He couldn’t seem to think about Rose without thinking about her naked body and how much he missed being with her on Sunday mornings.

  But over the course of the trial he’d come to notice and appreciate more than just her body. Now that they’d be parting ways for the last time, he guessed he could admit to himself what had really happened. He’d fallen in love with Rose.

  And it sure as hell hurt.

  But hey, he could buck up and get through this evening of celebration, couldn’t he? For Mike’s sake he could drink his beer and chow down on some pizza and make a little small talk when there was a break in the noise. And as for being in love, he’d get over it. Yeah, he’d be okay again once he didn’t have to see Rose in the courtroom every day, prim and gorgeous in her navy suit.

  The pizza came, several huge platters of it, steaming hot and loaded with toppings. Everyone fell to eating. More beer flowed. The volume on the TV got turned down some and Rose tried to strike up a conversation with him.

  “What ever happened to your escaped client? Did the authorities catch him?”