by B. B. Hamel
I glance around the table and take in the faces of the people we’re facing. Lawyers all look alike to me, dressed in their modestly priced suits, sporting modestly priced haircuts, and speaking in modestly priced sentences. They’re always bland and simple and straight-laced, especially the more expensive ones. The cheaper the suit they’re wearing, the bigger their billing typically is, or at least that’s what I’ve found.
I zone out a little bit as the lawyers start talking in their annoying jargon. This whole thing seems absurd to me, if I’m totally honest. We bought a parcel of land downtown a few years ago, basically an empty field that’s just growing weeds. In the last year or so, the whole area was rezoned, and now we’re able to develop the land into a retail and living space, or at least that’s Reid’s plan. It’s in a great spot, but it’s not exactly huge, so the building will have to be pretty tall.
The problem is, though, these environmental lawyers are arguing that the land is protected by certain state and city statutes designed to keep the city green or whatever that means. Personally, I think we should just sell the land for a slight profit to whoever wants to build it into a park and be done with this, but Reid’s not going to let some “hippie assholes” (his words) beat him.
So here I am, stuck in a meeting I don’t care about, listening to lawyers argue about an issue I’m not interested in. I can practically feel my eyes drooping as the lawyers drone on and on about legal proceedings, evidence, precedent, and all that mumbo jumbo, when suddenly she walks in through the door.
I perk up immediately. Thick auburn hair, long dark eyelashes, bright green eyes, smooth pale skin: I’d recognize her anywhere, even three years later. She hesitates a second, looking a little embarrassed, before hurrying over to the opposing counsel’s side.
I stare at her as she sits down. She still hasn’t noticed me, and I bet she has no clue that I’m here. Reid’s name is all over this stuff, not mine, so I doubt she even knows this is my company. Assuming she even remembers me, but I’m pretty sure she does.
I definitely remember her.
She looks so nervous as I step into my bedroom. She hangs in the doorway, looking at me cautiously.
“You’re not some crazy murderer, right?” she asks.
“It’s a little late for that question, don’t you think?” I grin at her and laugh at her scared expression. “I’m kidding, Teagan. No, I’m not some murderer.” I hold out my hand. “Come here.”
She walks over to me slowly, her eyes wide, her sexy hips swaying. I can see the outline of her breasts under her dress and I still have her taste in my mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone so badly in my life before, although I’ve had plenty of women before this.
There’s just something about her. Something innocent, something good… something I want to sully, ruin, dirty, destroy.
She steps over and I pull her close to me. I kiss her softly, lips lingering on hers as I slowly move them down toward her ear.
“Have you ever been tied up before?” I whisper to her.
I feel her stiffen. “No,” she says.
“Good,” I answer, smirking at her. “I like a first timer.”
For a second, I’m worried she might pull away, but instead she flings herself at me, kissing me with renewed intensity.
I’ve gone over and over that night in the last three years. I’ve had other women in my home, tied up and punished in my bedroom, but none like her. None even close to her.
And now she’s here, sitting across the table from me. In a second, she’s going to look up, and I know what I’ll see.
I take a deep breath, calming myself. I feel like I’m running a marathon. Slowly she places her notebook on the tabletop and raises her eyes, scanning the room, until she stops at me.
There it is. Recognition blooms across her face. She blushes slightly, and I know she’s thinking about what we did that night, how fucking good it felt. It’s all flashing across her eyes right now, and I bet she’s dripping wet remembering my fingers on her skin, my lips against her ear, whispering all the dirty, filthy things I want to make her do.
And then she looks away quickly and the moment passes. Just a short moment of recognition before she’s pulled back into her job. She turns into a lawyer in that moment, putting on her mask of professionalism. I bet she’s going to pretend like we don’t know each other, but that’s fine by me.
She remembers. She’s been thinking about it too. And I bet she wants another taste just as much as I do.
I stare at her, a smile on my face. I’m not even trying to hide it. I catch her glance at me, blush again, and quickly look down. I want her to know that I remember and I’ve been dreaming about her. She may have gotten away three years ago, ignored my calls, but she’s back in my life. Fate brought her here, to this table. There’s no denying it.
This meeting just got so much more interesting.
2
Teagan
I feel like I can breathe again when I finally get back to my office. I sit down behind my desk and lean back, staring out the window, trying to get myself together.
I can’t believe it was him, Declan, the guy from that party three years ago. The guy that gave me one of the most intense and passionate nights of my life. The guy that I ditched and ignored afterward, despite him calling a couple of times to try and see me again.
I can’t believe it. He still looks incredible, rich and handsome. But if I had known… I never would have gone near this case.
I pull the files and start to comb through them. The only name on most of the documents is Reid Nash, but buried in one of the research files is Declan Jones. Reid and Declan are co-owners of their company, although this particular project is apparently mostly Reid’s. That’s why I didn’t know Declan was involved, the only reason he could have blindsided me like that.
My head’s spinning, trying to understand. Did he do this on purpose? No, that’s impossible. There’s no way he could have known that I’d be on this case. I didn’t even know until a week ago.
I stretch and sigh, getting myself together. I don’t know why it’s such a big deal. So what, so he’s a guy that I had a one-night stand with three years ago. I didn’t call him back because I was busy with law school and frankly, I was afraid to get involved. And of course, some stuff happened, and I probably should have called him back eventually… but I didn’t.
And now he’s in my life again, mysteriously, magically. I don’t know how or why, but that’s just how it happens sometimes.
I manage to get through the rest of the day without any new surprises. Declan’s on my mind, but fortunately I can still concentrate enough to go through my always-boring paperwork.
“Did you see Mitchell?” Sara asks me as we leave the building at the end of the day.
“I’ve been busy,” I say to her. “Had that Commons meeting at noon then a mountain of paperwork.”
She makes a face. “I wanted that Commons job. It looks kind of interesting.”
“Not that great,” I say, looking away.
She laughs. “Anyway, Mitchell. He was wearing this tie, pretty much neon yellow, and these oversized suspenders. But the best part is, he had a mustard stain on the tie. Couldn’t see it, because the tie was yellow, but it was there, right under his pudgy face.”
I can’t help but laugh. Mitchell is another associate at our law firm, this loud-mouthed asshole that I really despise. “He probably tried to make the hot dog stand guy buy him a new tie.”
“I bet he had some fancy argument for that one.” Sara rolls her eyes. “He’s such an ass. But I loved seeing that at least.”
We laugh together as we pile into the subway. It’s a short trip up a few blocks to my neighborhood, and Sara lives a bit further out. It’s pretty nice that we can ride to and from work together.
Sara basically got me this job. It took me an extra year to finish school and to pass the bar, but in the end it worked out. She recommended me to her bosses right as they
were looking to hire a new junior associate, and I ended up landing the job. Lowry, Staples, and Begley is one of the better practices in the city specializing in environmental issues, and although there’s not a ton of cash in environmental law, it’s still incredibly fulfilling.
“See you later,” I say to Sara as the train pulls up to my stop.
“Give Felix a kiss for me.”
I smile and wave as I head out, falling into the flow of bodies. I take the grimy stairs up into the early evening sunlight and turn left, heading toward Felix and, eventually, to home.
My feet hurt, and I keep seeing Declan Jones staring at me in that meeting. He wasn’t being subtle about it, and part of me was worried that someone might notice. Nobody did, of course, or at least if they did, they didn’t guess why. How could they possibly know? It’s not like they were there that night.
He roughly pulls my wrist behind my back, his other hand cupping my breast. I can feel his hard cock against my ass. My dress is half off, pulled down and hanging loosely around my waist.
“Are you going to struggle?” he asks.
“No,” I whisper.
“Good.” He presses harder on my wrist. Slight pain runs up my arm. His other hand slowly moves down and slides beneath my dress. I’m dripping wet with anticipation as he finally finds my soaking pussy, rubbing my clit in slow, agonizing, maddening circles.
“Why would you want to struggle?” he asks, my arm still pinned behind my back. I reach my other one around and wrap my fingers through his hair, making him grunt. “You’d just be denying yourself the pleasure you clearly need.”
“Asshole,” I whisper through my moans.
“No, I’m not an asshole,” he responds, his voice deep and delicious. “I’m just the man that’s going to dominate you tonight. I’m going to give you a taste for it. And you’ll never forget.”
I feel his fingers press up inside me just as he pushes a bit harder on my wrist, the pleasure and the pain mixing and sending insane signals through my brain. I wish I could deny it, tell him he can’t do that to me, he can’t make me like something new, but the only thing coming out from between my lips are deep, ravishing moans, and I know he’s right. I hate him, but god, he’s right.
I step in through the glass double doors, pushing onto the clean vinyl flooring with the other people packed into this small waiting room. I smile and nod at the women I recognize, other young moms and dads, and I chat with a guy named Derek. His daughter, Lydia, likes to play with Felix, and we’ve been going to the park together lately.
“I hear there’s a cold going around,” Derek says seriously.
I shrug a little. “When isn’t there?”
“I know.” He sighs. Derek hates getting sick apparently. “They’re such gross little things.”
I grin at him. “But so cute.”
He nods seriously. “So cute.”
Just then Felix comes teetering out of the back room, holding the hand of one of the daycare employees, a big woman named Toya.
“Mommy!” Felix leaves her, breaking free, runs over to me. I drop down to one knee and swoop him up, forgetting everything but Felix, my little nearly-two terror, my baby boy.
“Have a good one,” I say to Derek as I carry Felix outside. I put him down and hold his hand as we walk slowly the few blocks to our home.
Felix chatters about his day, about blocks and friends and sharing and something about a dinosaur that I can’t really understand. I smile and nod and encourage him to keep talking, but in the back of my mind I keep slipping back to Declan.
Three years ago, he gave me the night of my life, made me feel things I never thought possible. And now, three years later, I have my little Felix. I can see the resemblance in him: the same nose, the same jaw, the same hair. Declan doesn’t know about Felix, of course, since I never told him, but I know he’ll figure it out if they ever meet. It’s just so obvious.
Which means they can’t ever meet. Though I don’t know why they would. Yes, I’m working this case against Declan, but I’m the opposing counsel. There’s no reason that I would ever fraternize with Declan, aside from sitting across a table from him. Still, I should get rid of any pictures of Felix lying around my office, just in case.
I get Felix home and we go through his evening routine when I’m the one in charge: changing clothes, making food, watching kiddie cartoons for an hour. He builds a block tower while I cook dinner, and it’s just as I’m finishing up when my phone rings.
I don’t recognize the number. A little distracted by what I’m doing, I just answer without thinking.
“Hello?”
There’s a pause. “Hello, Teagan.”
I stop what I’m doing. I know that voice, I’d recognize it anywhere. “Declan?”
“I’m happy you know it’s me,” he says, his voice velvet seduction. “It was good seeing you today.”
“Ah, yeah,” I answer, totally caught off guard. “You too.”
“It’s been what, three years?”
I glance at Felix. “Yeah, I guess so,” I say.
“And now look at you, working for a big fancy environmental firm. It’s impressive.”
“Thanks,” I say. “But you know, we really shouldn’t be talking.”
“Maybe not,” he says. “But we’re old friends. No reason we can’t separate business and pleasure.”
The way he says pleasure sends a chill down my spine. The memory spikes, briefly but intensely, a flash of desire in me again.
“I guess so,” I say. Just then, Felix knocks over his block tower by accident, stumbling into it the way little kids do. He starts crying.
“Listen, let’s have dinner,” Declan says. “Purely for pleasure, no business allowed. Just two old friends catching up again. What do you say?”
I’m distracted by Felix, and I just want to get off the phone so I can calm him down. “Yeah, uh, sure,” I say. “Of course.”
“Good. I’ll send over the details.” A slight pause. “It really was good seeing you.”
“You too.”
With that, he hangs up, and I can take care of my son. I get him calm and happy again, back to building another tower in front of the television. By the time I’m plating dinner, I realize what I just did.
I just agreed to go out with Declan.
He says we’re just old friends, but we were never friends. We knew each other for a night. Honestly, I’m a little surprised he even remembers me. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man to recall every single one of his conquests. And based on the way he touched me, how comfortable and skilled he was, he definitely has a lot of conquests.
I shouldn’t be going, but it’s too late. I can’t call and cancel. I don’t want to be totally rude, since I will have to work with him in some capacity in the future. I don’t want to jeopardize this case further by pissing him off, risking anything. I can go to this dinner, be friendly, catch up, and that’s it. There doesn’t have to be more.
I can just keep telling myself that. Dinner and nothing else. No pleasure, despite how much I might want that.
3
Declan
I sip my whisky and survey the room, leaning up against the corner of the bar.
The lights are dim and the place is crowded, but conversation is subdued. The clientele is mostly older and professional, so there aren’t any frat boys chugging beer and slamming shots. I chose this place because it’s good to have a conversation in, but also because I happen to know the owner.
“Another whisky, Declan?”
I push my glass toward Yasmine, the bartender. “Sure,” I say.
She smiles at me, big brown eyes and curly dark hair. Her skin is so smooth and flawless, and her teeth are perfectly white. I can’t help but wonder what kind of genes she has.
She’s been flirting with me since I sat down, hell, she’s been flirting with me for years. But I have no interest in Yasmine, never have. The only person I want to see right now is Teagan, more than I can even u
nderstand.
I came early to get comfortable. I like to be in control of a situation, and I find that being the first person in a space makes you own it. I claim this place by entering it first, by getting comfortable with it.
And of course, I’ll claim her by entering her, too. But that comes later.
I spot Teagan walking nervously in through the front. She’s dressed conservatively, almost professionally, except her blouse is unbuttoned and a hint of her gorgeous cleavage shows through. I smile and wave her over.
I watch her as she approaches, all hips and a smile. I remember that smile very well, although we had such a brief encounter three years ago. Still, that night left its mark on me, deep down in my marrow. I can still feel and taste her, even after all this time.
“Glad you came,” I say, and I can see the nerves on her face. They flash to the surface briefly before she can get herself together.
“I, uh,” she stumbles, “I’m glad you called.”
I smile at her. “Of course you are. Drink?”
She nods and I flag down Yasmine. “Gin and tonic,” I order for her.
She laughs a little. “How’d you remember?”
“I have a talent for that sort of thing.”
“Pretty useless talent, remembering drinks.”
“That’s not my only talent.” I grin at her as Yasmine returns with the drink. I hand it to Teagan and lead her over to an empty high-top a few feet away. We sit down facing each other, Teagan fidgeting slightly with her glass.
I sip my whisky. “Were you surprised to see me?” I ask her.
She nods. “Honestly, yes. I had no clue you’d be involved.”
“My partner’s really the one doing all this,” I say to her. “I’m just there for, ah, moral support.”
