Your Honor

by Kristi Pelton

  Wow, he read me well. Popping both sets of pills in my mouth, I downed them with a douse of water, tossed the notes in my purse and left the suite behind.

  ***

  A line had formed at our normal spot at the Farmer’s Market—mostly the usual people, but I saw a few new faces. Henley was waiting for me. Hank had parked Pop’s dually into the spot. The entire bed of the truck was loaded with all the fruits and veggies. I loved that Hank and his sons helped with the harvest.

  “Running late, darlin?” Hank asked.

  I shot him a smile. “Just a smidgin’.”

  Hank had been my grandfather’s best friend for most of his life. He was Pop’s best man when he married my Mimi. Heck, on occasion, Hank’s sons brought the truck when he couldn’t.

  As I set a basket of strawberries on the table, he touched my arm.

  “You ok, little miss?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Just late. I’m sorry.”

  “You look tired.”

  Hank’s cowboy boots were tired. I grinned. “Late night celebrating, Hank. Maybe a little too much.” I winked at him. “Besides, when you tell a girl she looks tired, that’s code for she looks like shit.”

  “Ah, little miss, never never.” He darted around me and started helping Henley load the tables with the crop. Before we knew it, we were up and selling for Pops.

  All of our regulars came by the tent, and every single one asked about Pops. Most everyone knew about his condition and expressed condolences for the sad situation. Those same people loved chatting with Hank.

  The sun warmed the late summer morning as we cleaned up the tables. Henley nudged me in the side. The ache in my head had subsided thanks to the pills. I smiled as I thought about Jenner’s considerate gesture. He didn’t have to write the notes, nor did he have to track down pocket packs of medicine, but he had.

  “There’s the guy you wouldn’t tell me about.”

  I froze with a wide-eyed stare, refusing to turn around. “The guy from the club?” I whispered.

  She nodded slowly, following him with her eyes.

  “Does he see us? Me?” I casually walked to the front of the truck to stay hidden.

  What were the freaking odds of running into the man that had his fingers inside me last night? Dear God. The pounding in my chest stole my breath.

  “Hey, Lucy, I got the truck loaded with the bushel baskets and…”

  “SHH!” I shushed Hank, paralyzed in fear.

  Seriously, the likelihood of seeing this man, less than 24 hours later, in New York freaking City? I massaged my temples trying to think.

  “What’s the matter, little miss?”

  “Guy trouble, Hank,” Henley answered.

  “Is he with anyone?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. A woman.”

  “He’s married. I knew it.”

  “Well, unless he’s married to a sixty year old woman, I don’t think that’s his wife.”

  For some odd reason, relief settled through me. The guy hadn’t asked to see me again. He hadn’t texted or called. It was what it was—a very lame one nighter because he just had to answer that damn phone and I couldn’t stay awake.

  “Well, little miss. If I don’t say so myself, I’d have to say you’ve takin’ a likin’ to the guy or you wouldn’t care if he sees you.”

  My eyes narrowed in the evilest of glares in Hank’s direction until I conceded that he was right.

  “I did like him,” I said, my eyes darting between both Hank and Henley.

  Henley excitedly rose up on her tiptoes. “I have an idea. Where is your phone?”

  I pulled it out of my back pocket. “Why?”

  “Do you have his number?”

  “Yes,” I said, but then remembered that the man didn’t text.

  “Text him. Some sort of ‘hey’ or ‘thank you’ or ‘want to do it again’ something or other.”

  I bit down on my lip, hoping Hank didn’t catch on.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because we can see his reaction. If he smiles, he’s happy to hear from you. If he doesn’t, fine. Leave it alone.”

  It was the ‘if he doesn’t part’ that threatened to hurt. Hurt? I’d known him for 12 whole hours, for God’s sake. I sounded like a pathetic, desperate girl. But yet, I stared at the phone in my hand.

  “Whatcha got to lose?” Hank asked.

  I unlocked my phone and typed, as his words came back to me, ‘I don’t text.’

  Hey Richard. I was thinking…that room might have late check-out. Monica

  Oh, I felt sick. This was so not me. I glanced up at Henley and Hank, and then hit send.

  “What’d you say?” Henley asked.

  I shrugged. “Just asked if he wanted to meet up later,” I lied for Hank’s benefit. Or mine. Whatever.

  The three of us literally bent over the hood of the truck to see Jenner through the cab window. We all three watched as he slid his hand in his pocket, the same hand that got me off last night. I hoped he stayed facing this way so I could see his expression. Aviators covered his eyes but I waited to see if he smiled.

  Score! Not a full-blown smile but a grin. Slight grin.

  Henley squealed. My phone vibrated and I suddenly had two sets of eyes on me.

  Opening the screen, a blue dot sat next to his number. I hadn’t even entered his name into my contacts. I pushed the text to open it.

  This isn’t Richard.

  I grinned too.

  “What did he say?”

  I texted back ignoring my audience.

  Hey, Mr. Answer the Phone During Foreplay. Do-over?

  When I hit send and glanced up, both Hank and Henley looked immediately toward Jenner, who stood behind the lady he was with while she bought a pumpkin. A bigger grin! My phone vibrated.

  I wouldn’t have answered that call had I not been obligated to do so. Are you sober?

  I giggled.

  Sober-ish

  I was stone cold sober. That text led to another smile.

  Lucy sober. Interesting. Penthouse Suite 1402 in two hours?

  My fists closed in a silent celebratory moment.

  “Yes!” Henley hissed. “When are you seeing him?”

  Hanks eyes flashed back and forth between Henley and mine, confused.

  “Today. I need to go,” I told them, already thinking about what I’d wear.

  “You two arranged a date without saying a word to each other?” Hank asked baffled.

  Henley and I both laughed, patting Hank’s shoulder. “That’s how we do it now a days, Hank.”

  He shook his head. “I might have to meet this guy, Little Miss. I’m not sure Pops would approve. Nor would I.”

  There was no way to explain to Hank that this was strictly a booty call. Though the explanation of a hook up would be comical, I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it. Once we loaded up the truck, I bee-lined it for the apartment and a quick shower.

  Chapter 2

  DISMISSED

  JENNER

  Once I got Mom settled back at her place, I put the produce she bought away. I had an hour to get to the hotel. Everything in my brain shouted at me to not go, to leave Lucy hanging. To be the bad guy. But there was something adorable about this girl. Overhearing her conversation with her friend had certainly made my dick twitch—knowing she’d not been with anyone for a while. We didn’t go to that club often. But Jeff had wanted to find a girl for his birthday. The guys knew that I never took anyone home, so there would be questions later.

  This morning as I watched her sleep before I left, I couldn’t put my finger on what it was about her. The dress shirt tied in a knot did a number on me. Her beauty was enough to get the attention of anyone in the club, but then she went and did that. Her strawberry blond hair pillowed out around the balcony lounger. The twelve little freckles dotting her nose were so damn irresistible.

  Honestly, I hadn’t been fucked in a while either. When she had bellowed out that ridiculous request for
me to have sex with her, I was stunned, profoundly shocked by the question. Nothing shocked me anymore. But she did. Everything about her. Her innocence. Her courage. Her obliviousness to her own beauty.

  I was hard again just thinking about how wet she got for me. The feeling of her insides pulsing around my fingers as I got her off—drove me mad. There was nothing I wanted more than to do that again for her. Knowing she hadn’t had that for a while, knowing I could give it to her, watching the pleasure on her face, I couldn’t wait to see her.

  The lobby was full. I was thankful I’d called about late checkout. We had until 3 PM. I already knew that wouldn’t be enough time. I considered getting the room again but didn’t want to give her unnecessary hope. I grabbed another key at the front desk.

  “Sir. A lady just requested a key but she wasn’t listed on the room. I apologize. She’s in the hotel bar.”

  I smiled at him. She had come…

  LUCY

  The first vodka water went down with ease and the second was just as quick, calming the nerves I’d walked in with. I still didn’t know Jenner’s last name, so getting a key to his room was impossible. I had rushed home after our conversation, and quicker than I thought possible, I showered and shaved (for the second consecutive day in a while) then found the only other pair of sexy panties I owned. Two was it. I’d never been much of a Victoria’s Secret girl. Panties from Target worked just fine.

  “Miss, the key to your room,” the concierge said sliding the card toward my drink.

  Before I could ask anything, he disappeared. I finished my drink like it was a shot and then hopped off the barstool. I second-guessed myself for wearing a dress. Suddenly, it seemed forward. Then again, there were no false pretenses about what this was or why we were meeting. Besides, it would give easy access.

  Another couple rode with me in the elevator but got off three floors before the top, leaving me to sweat it out alone.

  “Hey, Jenner. Hel-lo, Jenner. Hi!” I changed my voice, practicing from casual to chipper, unsure which would be best.

  When the doors opened, there he was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved polo shirt.

  “Whoa. Hey. Umm. Hel-lo! Hi.” Wow, I sounded absolutely ridiculous as I rattled off every greeting I had practiced.

  “Hola,” he said, his brows shooting up.

  “Si!” I laughed. “I don’t know much Spanish. Queso. I know queso.”

  That grin I had sought from him earlier appeared again.

  “How are you?” he asked. “Headache gone?

  “Yes. Thanks to you.”

  The room seemed smaller than it did last night. And Jenner seemed bigger. When he tipped his head to the side it was as if he was trying to read me.

  “Hmm. You seem to be thinking,” I said.

  “I’m always thinking.”

  “About?”

  “The phone call last night was not an indicator of my desire. It was a professional obligation.”

  Tucking my feet beneath me, I sat on the sofa. He leaned against the counter with his ankles crossed.

  “What do you do?” I asked.

  His heavy gaze never left mine nor did he speak a word.

  “OK. You’d prefer I not ask questions?”

  “Not that question.”

  “That’s fair. You speak…professionally.”

  “Probably just me utilizing my Word Wealth class from high school. Mrs. Mowder was a stickler for us applying the words in real life.”

  I nodded with a grin. “I’m sorry for falling asleep on you.”

  “Don’t be. I’m actually very boring.”

  A chuckle vibrated across my tummy. “You make me laugh.”

  “Good. You make me laugh too. Tell me what you want, Lucy. The last thing I want to do is mislead you.”

  His question caused me to sit up a little straighter. “Well, a replay of last night for starters without the phone call and without the falling asleep part.”

  A smirk pulled at the side of his mouth. “That’s doable. I’m doable.” He winked. “I’m not sure how much I have to offer past that.”

  “You’re married?”

  “No. And, I’m not gay either.”

  Unknowingly, I bit down on my lip. “I’m glad. I won’t lie, I like you. What little I know of you. But if we can’t be, we can’t be. I’m not gonna go all Fatal Attraction on you.”

  With a chuckle of laughter, he raked his hands through his hair. I wanted my hands in his hair.

  “You going Fatal Attraction isn’t my concern. I’ll be truthful as well. I like you too. I just know what I’m capable of and what I’m not. Taking that into consideration, I don’t want you feeling rejected. If I state the facts up front...”

  Already feeling rejection as he said those words. I nodded. “Rejection is simply redirection, Jenner. Sometimes it hurts, but I’ll do my best to redirect myself.” Hopefully my subtle smile was enough reassurance for him.

  “OK, then stand up,” he said. His tone dropped an entire octave and vibrated something in my pelvis.

  I stood, my breath hitching in my throat as his eyes devoured me inch by inch. Still leaning against the counter, he beckoned me with his finger. I inched closer.

  His finger was soft, not callused, as it traced over my shoulder, beneath the spaghetti strap, freeing the material from my shoulder. The strap drooped down my arm. The dress was now being held up by one strap. But that didn’t last long as he repeated the motion on the other side, sending the dress to pool at my feet.

  His tongue ran the length of his bottom lip.

  “You are very beautiful.”

  Several men had said those words to me, but for some reason Jenner saying them meant something more. His words…his approval… mattered.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  His fingertips traced over the mounds of my breasts, sparking them to life. I leaned into him, grazing my fingers over his zipper, somewhat nervous to touch him.

  “You know,” he said, clearing his throat. “There was something about watching you come that I thoroughly enjoyed.”

  The simply spoken statement shot a quake of desire rippling through my body. Electricity fired up through my abdomen, igniting my nipples, pebbling them up. And, an entire other line fueled the need between my legs. A surge of dampness pooled in my panties.

  A masculine smell wafted through the air stimulating me even more. My eyes instinctively closed as the backs of his fingers slid beneath the lace. My nipple glided between two of his fingers, and he lightly squeezed them together.

  “Jenner,” I whispered, and it sounded more like a rush of air.

  Like a pro, his other hand reached around back, unfastening my bra. The release was pleasurable as heaviness fell into my breasts. He bent down, his knees cracking, and traced his tongue around my nipple. He gently sucked it into his mouth, my legs weakened and nearly gave way.

  He stopped, glancing up at me. His eyes were dark, intimidating, lust filled and his lids stood at half-mast.

  “Come on,” he said, taking hold of my hand and leading me to the bedroom. We never got this far last night.

  When he stopped next to the bed, it was me that dropped to my knees. I wanted to please him too. The minute I tried to unfasten his pants, he stopped me.

  “Lucy. You don’t know me well enough to do that. As much as I’d like for you to.”

  This man didn’t mince words. His casual directness seemed harsh.

  “O. K.” I said ok as if it were two separate words. My mood squashed just a bit.

  He lifted my chin. “Lucy. Don’t. Don’t take that personally, ok?”

  For not knowing me very well, he certainly knew me well.

  “Have you been with a lot of people without protection?” I asked surprised standing back up.

  He shook his head. “No. None. Ever. This…” His Adams apple jutted out and back in. “This is odd for me as well.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Well, I�
�m not sure what I’m saying,” he chuckled but with no laughter in his eyes. “You trust so easily. Had I been someone else, anyone else, last night may have ended entirely different.”

  Suddenly, I felt like he was my father chastising me. Things were getting weird. I released a long, slow, exasperated exhale. “I understand that.” I gave a resigned sigh, sitting back on the bed.

  “Yes, but you have no idea where I’ve been.”

  “You just said, you’d been with no one!”

  “Exactly my point,” he said emotionless. “What makes me believable? Guys will say anything to get in your pants.”

  “What guy says no to getting a blow job?”

  He tilted his head to the side, that slow, half-smile making an appearance. “You want me to wear a condom, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jesus Christ, I sound like an old man. You can catch something from giving a blow job too.”

  “I’m aware of that.” I was totally aware of that.

  “OK, tell me what you prefer then, and I’m just going to shut up now.”

  “Jenner, do you even want to do this? Pity sex isn’t really my thing. And though I like you, I don’t really want to guilt you into doing something you’d prefer not to.”

  Suddenly, he grabbed hold of my wrist, pushing my hand against his rock hard, bulging crotch.

  “Sometimes, I’m not very good attaching emotion to words. I get paid to keep emotions out of most equations.”

  “Well,” I laughed a little. “I prefer you not use words like equation or attaching emotion and just enjoy the moment maybe.”

  “Forgive me. Tell me what you want, pretty girl. What do you prefer?” he grinned.

  God, there was something sexy about his grin; the moment I bit down on my bottom lip, his thumb pulled it free. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to walk out the penthouse door or finish what we started.

  “What do I prefer? Hmmm. I’d prefer you text me when this is over. Even if you don’t want to.” I smiled. “It’ll make me feel better about myself. So, send me something just to make me smile. Umm. I’d prefer that you never speak of this to anyone. I know all the girls that do this sort of thing say they aren’t that sort of girl.” I tossed up air quotes. “But I really don’t do this sort of thing.” His eyes bore into me. “I’d prefer you have no regrets. I promise I won’t either. I’d also prefer you tell me what to do and when to do it because honestly, I’m very intimidated by this and, I just think that I need some guidance and…”