DEFENSE

by Glenna Sinclair

  In that moment, it felt like the world disappeared from beneath my feet. To stay in prison for weeks, even months, with those Hell’s Angels thugs beating up on me every five minutes…I couldn’t bear it.

  “Your Honor!” Katie cried. She wasn’t about to take this lying down. “This is an outrage. You can set the bail at the highest level and confiscate my client’s passport. We’d accept a tagging, as well.”

  “Miss Scott,” the judge interrupted. “You’re trying to buy your client’s freedom. I don’t take well to bribes.”

  “My client is in a fragile mental state,” Katie countered. “He disclosed to me that he was suicidal on the night of the incident.”

  The shock of hearing her say it aloud hit me.

  “I told you that in confidence!” I cried.

  The police officer held me back. Katie looked over her shoulder and mouthed sorry.

  But her words had had the effect on the judge she’d intended. Having a suicidal inmate was more bother than it was worth.

  “Fine,” the judge said. “In that case, bail is set at the full amount of one million dollars with a hundred thousand dollar nonrefundable down payment.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Katie beamed, snapping shut her papers and turning around to face me, a big grin across her face.

  But I didn’t feel much like smiling. She’d told me I could trust her, and then she’d used that trust against me. No one in the world knew I was suicidal, and now it was going into a report for everyone to see. The betrayal stung.

  ***

  I was led into a room by the officers, who informed me my bail had been paid and I would soon be free to go. After removing my shackles they handed me some clothes. Once I was dressed, a chunky, plastic bracelet was placed on my ankle.

  “What’s that for?” I asked, wary of saying anything to the police without Katie beside me.

  “You’re being tagged. You won’t be able to go more than fifty feet away from a designated address. Any idea where that might be, since your home is a crime scene?”

  I opened my mouth, but before I had a chance to speak, Katie burst into the room.

  “Our office. Newland & Rook. We can put him up.”

  I looked at her, stunned. “I’m not staying in your office.”

  “You have no choice,” Katie replied. “We need to spend a lot of time putting your case together, working ‘round the clock. It’s the best place to do it. There’s plenty of space, and I’ll get a bed brought in for you.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Barely ten minutes ago, she’d blabbed my secrets to the world, and now she wanted to cozy up in her office? I knew the effect I had on women, but Katie was coming across as a little deluded.

  I shook my head. “No way. You’re the one who’s supposed to be putting my case together, not me.”

  A look of hurt flickered across Katie’s face.

  “I need your help, Harrison,” she said. “I know there are things you don’t want me using in your case, and I’m going to need you there if I’m able to put together an argument that doesn’t touch on certain subjects.”

  She meant Catherine and my suicide attempt.

  “It’s a little late for that,” I hissed.

  One of the police officers bolstered forward. “Can someone make a decision please? I know you celebrities tend to think the world revolves around you, but you’re the not the only person we’re dealing with today.”

  I looked at Katie. Her eyes were practically pleading with me to choose the office as my location, and I could tell from the way she looked at me that it wasn’t just about getting my case together. She wanted to be near me for other reasons—carnal reasons. But didn’t I want that, too? Despite the betrayal, I still felt something for Katie that I hadn’t felt since Catherine. There was a magnetism about her—her intelligence, her confidence in court. Yes, she’d used my deepest secret, but that didn’t stop me from lusting for her. Suddenly, the thought of spending time alone with Katie Scott filled me with irrepressible desire.

  “Okay,” I said at last. “The Newland & Rook offices.”

  Beside me, I felt Katie tremble. She had plans for when the door to that office closed that weren’t entirely about my case. I had plans, too. I wanted her to experience pleasure that would blow her mind.

  Chapter Seven

  Katie

  Harrison didn’t look at me on the taxi journey to the office. I couldn’t tell if he was still mad at me for breaking his trust by revealing his thoughts of suicide to the judge, or if it was something else. I dared to hope it was because he was as hot for me as I was for him and that he just couldn’t bear to look at me, but I knew that was just a fantasy. In reality, he was pissed at me. I just hoped that he’d understand eventually that divulging his mental state was the only way I’d be able to get him out of prison.

  I knew it had been madness to argue for him to stay in the office. I didn’t even know how much I could trust Harrison Wrexler. After all, he had lied about paying Shantelle to spend the night with him. If he could lie about that, what else had he lied about? Had I basically invited a murderer into my office and essentially made it so he couldn’t leave?

  We arrived back at the office, and the police set up Harrison’s tagging device. It would sound out an alarm if he so much as stepped through the main doors to Newland & Rook. Within minutes of triggering the alarm, the police would arrive at the office and he’d be sent straight back to prison.

  As soon as the police left, a strange silence fell over the offices. John’s door was wide open, meaning he and his disgusting rapist of a nephew had left. The only sounds I could hear were the humming of computers and the buzz of the electric lights. After the chaos of bond court, it was rather disarming.

  “The autopsy report’s been returned,” Galiema called to me from where she was clicking through files on her computer. “I’m forwarding it to you. Can I leave this in your hands?”

  She was ready to go home. She had been working since Friday morning, after all.

  “Of course,” I said, more than acutely aware that once Galiema had left, there would be no one but Harrison and me in the office. The thought made prickles of desire race up my spine.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Call me if anything particular comes up. Otherwise, I’ll see you Monday.”

  She left, without as much as a hint that she thought the situation I’d constructed to be alone with Harrison was a little odd.

  Finally alone, I took Harrison into my office and began reading through the autopsy report. It didn’t look good for him. Along with the points Harrison had mentioned to me—the strangulation, hair pulling, bound wrists, and violent sex that had caused bruising to Shantelle’s labia—there was also the matter of wounds consistent with anal penetration, possibly violent and nonconsensual.

  “You didn’t tell me that you had anal,” I said, looking up from my computer screen. It would make Harrison look that extra bit worse in front of a jury.

  “I didn’t,” Harrison replied. “I told you already; I like it soft.”

  I shuffled in my seat and gave him a serious look. “You bruised her labia. That doesn’t sound soft to me.”

  “That’s what she wanted,” he contested. “And I haven’t lied to you, about anything. We didn’t do anal.”

  I pursed my lips. “I don’t know how I can believe you. You’ve lied about other things. Such as Shantelle being a prostitute...”

  Harrison’s mouth dropped open as though in shock. “I didn’t know she was.”

  “Oh really?” I said sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. “Then how come there was a hundred-dollar bill wedged in through her bra straps?”

  Harrison’s face paled. “I can explain it. But you’ll think I’m sick.”

  “Try me,” I said.

  Harrison looked into my eyes. “I ripped her bra. She told me I had to pay for it, so I took out the money. She wanted me to taunt her with it, to make her feel like she was being used, s
o I did. I wasn’t paying her for sex. It was role play. I didn’t realize she was actually a prostitute.”

  Maybe I was being an idiot, but I couldn’t help but believe what he was saying. And worse than that, I was getting aroused by the idea of being in Shantelle’s position, of having Harrison rip my bra from my chest and taunt me with a hundred-dollar bill. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but it was like having sex with Nick had opened up a part of me I’d forgotten about, and then being thrown headfirst into this situation with Harrison was making all kinds of crazy thoughts run through my head.

  “You believe me,” Harrison said.

  “I do,” I replied.

  I looked up at him, at the bruises and cuts around his eyes.

  “Who did that to you?” I asked softly.

  “Just some guys in prison,” he said.

  Without thinking, I stood and walked to the chair he sat in across from mine on the other side of my desk. I swept my fingers across the purple flesh on his cheek. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you don’t go back in there,” I whispered.

  Harrison trembled beneath my touch. Suddenly embarrassed, I went to move my hand away. But all at once he reached up and grabbed my hand, holding it in place next to his cheek. I was stunned. Was this gorgeous man inviting me to touch him? I relaxed my hand and ran my fingers down his stubble. Harrison sucked in his breath, clearly aroused by my touch.

  My fingers roved across his face, tracing the shape of his jaw and chin. I touched him so delicately it was almost as though I wasn’t touching him at all, and yet he gasped like it was the most arousing thing he’d ever experienced. I felt my insides clench with desire. Was this really happening? Was I really turning on Harrison Wrexler with little more than my fingertips?

  When I finally met his gaze, there was a burning look of desire in his eyes. My mouth went instantly parched.

  “Katie,” he said in a way that made my skin turn to fire.

  “Yes?” I whispered.

  “Don’t stop.”

  I licked my parched lips and took a step even closer to him. This time I let my fingers stroke down the back of his head, through the tufts of hair on his neck. He gasped and moaned, and then suddenly his arms were circling my waist.

  “Harrison,” I said. “What are we doing?”

  “I might be about to go to jail for the rest of my life,” he said. “This might be my last chance to be with a woman….”

  I swallowed hard. He was proposing we make love, here, in my office. It was all kinds of wrong, but I was going to fall for it.

  “You’re my client,” I stammered. “I could lose my job.”

  Harrison was bringing his face closer and closer to mine. I knew he only wanted me because I was available, because he might never get this chance again, but I didn’t care. I wanted to feel this gorgeous man inside of me.

  “Maybe that’s half of the allure,” he whispered, his lips just millimeters from mine, his breath warm and ticklish.

  I faltered. But then his lips met mine. They were so soft and warm. It reminded me of the gentle kiss Nick and I had shared yesterday evening, but a thousand times more arousing, because this time it really was Harrison Wrexler. I moved my mouth in time with his, tasting him, breathing in his aroma. He was almost pulsating with energy, and I couldn’t believe this man had ever had intimacy issues.

  He stood up and perched himself on the edge of my desk, pulling me with him and wrapping his arms around me in a strong, protective way. I positioned my head to take his mouth fully in mine, and my fingers laced through his hair. Just kissing him made me wet with desire. I never wanted it to end.

  I felt his hands rove up my back and slowly begin to unzip my dress. He peeled the two halves away, over my shoulder blades, moving with such slow precision it made me quiver with desire. My tongue found his, and the sensation was amazing. He was so soft and delicate.

  He inched the fabric of my dress over my shoulders, then slowly began to pull my dress down my body. I moaned, the noise vibrating in his mouth, as his knuckles brushed my rib cage, waist, hips. Then the dress fell away to the floor, leaving me standing in nothing but my high heels and underwear.

  I pulled back from the kiss, suddenly embarrassed.

  “You have a gorgeous body,” Harrison said breathlessly, gazing at me.

  I could hardly believe it. I’d never in my life imagined I’d get the chance to be intimate with someone as stunningly attractive as Harrison Wrexler. That I was punching above my weight was obvious. But to have him gaze at my body with adoration, with longing and desire, was more than I could ever have even imagined.

  Harrison pulled his top off, wincing as the fabric collided with the cuts on his face. His body was covered in bruises. It made my heart ache to see him hurt.

  I reached out and touched my fingertips to his chest. He was so muscular, so strong and healthy, the very pinnacle of masculinity.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I gasped.

  Harrison reached forward and laced his fingers through mine. We kissed again, still slowly, still precisely, but the passion in the movements had mounted. I could feel the heat radiating from him, warming up the space between our bodies. Suddenly, I wanted there to be no space between our bodies at all. I wanted us to be entwined, to become one being.

  I stroked my fingers down Harrison’s bare, broad back, making him shiver with desire. Then I slid them into the waistband of his pants. I circled them from his back over his hips and to the front, then inched them in, bit by bit, reaching to feel his penis.

  “Oh God,” Harrison gasped. “This is too much.”

  “Do you want to stop?” I asked, pausing.

  “God no,” he groaned. “I never ever want this to stop.”

  Emboldened by his words, I slid my hands all the way into his pants and took his enormous, hard cock in both.

  “Wow,” I murmured. I’d never felt anything like it.

  Harrison unzipped his fly and removed his pants and underwear, giving me greater access to his cock. He was now completely naked.

  “Can I lick it?” I said.

  “Yes,” he moaned, throwing his head back. “Yes, God, yes.”

  I slid off my heels and leaned down. I took his hard penis in both my hands, then touched my tongue softly to the tip of his shaft, knowing he’d want me to take it as slowly as possible. He let out a cry of pleasure. It sounded so amazing, I felt like I was racing towards climax just listening to him.

  Harrison stroked my hair as I began running my tongue slowly along his penis, listening with mounting pleasure to the moans and gasps he was making. Every time my eyes darted up to look at him I could hardly believe what was happening, that I had Harrison Wrexler’s cock in my mouth, and that I was making him murmur with ecstasy. It was so amazing, so incredible, so arousing.

  Then Harrison reached down and touched my chin with his fingertips, guiding me to standing.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “You’re doing everything right. Too right. I’m too close.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling my blush rise up my cheeks again.

  “I think it should be your turn now,” Harrison said, turning me around so that my back was pressed against his chest. I could feel his erection against my buttocks, resting between them. It felt like heaven.

  Harrison slipped his fingers into my bra. He gently caressed my nipples, making them harden under his touch. Then he gently unhooked my bra. He slid each strap over my shoulder, one at a time, pressing a kiss against the bare flesh as he went. I shivered as my bra fell down to the floor.

  Harrison began tracing circles across my stomach and breasts with his soft fingertips. I couldn’t help but moan. It felt incredible, so close to ticklish but not quite, reaching a new realm of sensation I’d never before accessed. His licked my neck and earlobes, then traced one finger all the way down from my right nipple to my panties. My whole body shuddered.

  “Do you
like that?” he asked, his soft British accent murmuring in my ear.

  “Yes,” I gasped. “I love it.”

  Harrison repeated the movement, only this time, instead of stopping at the waist of my panties, he slid his fingers straight beneath the material, along my pubic mound, and onto my clitoris. I grunted and gripped the table, pulling myself back into him so that I could feel his erection between my buttocks. He was so hard.

  As his fingers began rubbing my clitoris, I wriggled my ass in a circular motion. I could feel his penis respond favorably to the motion, growing harder with my movement.

  “Oh yes,” Harrison whispered in my ear. His fingers found their way inside of my vagina. “You’re so wet.”

  I was. I don’t think I’d ever been so turned on in all my life.

  “Let me taste you,” Harrison said, and his words were almost enough to tip me into a climax.

  He circled his arms around me and spun me, propping me up on the desk. His penis was so close to entering me I could hardly hold myself back.

  “I want to feel you inside of me,” I gasped.

  Harrison bit his lip. “Not yet…there are a million things I want you to feel first.”

  Then he dropped to his knees, and I felt his tongue against my clitoris. I cried out with pleasure and grasped his head.

  “That’s so good,” I gasped, as he lapped at my clit.

  I didn’t want this pleasure to end, ever. I wanted time to stand still so that Harrison and I could have this moment forever, without the fear of the trial or a prison sentence, without any kind of future to think of.

  “Please,” I said. “I need you inside.”

  Harrison stood, his lips slightly parted, his cheeks flushed and his pupils dilated. He took me gently in his arms and began to sink to the floor, tugging me with him. He laid me down like I was something precious, and his hands roved all over my flesh, as though he were trying to feel every goose bump.

  Harrison positioned me carefully, stretching my arms above my head and hitching my knees up. He regarded me in that position for a moment.

  “There are condoms in my purse,” I said.