LawyersinLove_Bundle

by Ann Jacobs

  That sadness had haunted her since his older brother Alan’s shotgun wedding had ended her dream of him becoming the doctor she’d once wanted to be. To Craig’s disappointment, it hadn’t gone away when he’d graduated from SMU, or even when he earned his law degree with honors.

  Mom never had admitted how much Alan’s quitting college had hurt her. But Craig knew. He never forgot how she’d looked, sitting on the porch the night of Alan’s wedding and bawling like a baby when she thought no one was around to hear.

  He’d been sixteen, more interested in sports and partying than school. A few months later, when he damn near ended up in jail because of a bonehead Halloween prank he and some friends had pulled, he’d realized his mom had excellent reason for having put all her hopes in Alan. After rebuilding the section of a rancher’s fence that he’d run through with his buddy’s truck, he’d sworn to turn his life around and make her proud.

  And he had. But even now—eleven years, two degrees, and a law license later—Craig doubted his mom believed deep down that he’d ever become a rousing success. He was fairly certain she worried that he’d revert to being the screw-up kid he used to be. And he couldn’t say he blamed her.

  “Congratulations, McDermott.”

  Craig grinned and shook his opponent’s hand. “Thanks, Jim.”

  Jim Granger, who’d graduated from law school a year ahead of Craig, shrugged. “My guy was guilty. If he hadn’t been, my boss would have tried the case himself. Speaking of Tony, he’s going to argue the Road Ranger case. Heard you’re the prosecutor. Trial’s starting next week, right?”

  “Yeah. Wednesday.” Seven days away and counting.

  Jim followed Craig out of the courtroom. “Tony’s asked me to take the second chair. I’m looking forward to seeing a client sprung, even if it will be him instead of me getting the credit.”

  “You wish. Ranger’s going to be doing hard time.” Craig hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.

  “You’re not that good, McDermott. You just think you are. Remember, Landry never loses.” With that, Jim strode down the hallway toward the door.

  The hell of it was, Craig doubted he could persuade a jury no man went insane, temporarily or not, because he needed sex— no matter how active his former sex life may have been. Especially if he had to argue against Tony Landry, the head of the criminal division at Winston Roe.

  He knew damn well he couldn’t even argue with conviction unless he experienced in the next few days what he’d deliberately avoided for the past eleven years.

  A few minutes later, Craig stepped inside the state attorney’s offices and headed for his desk. He’d get that knowledge and see the Road Ranger sent away, or die trying. If the job required that he study precedents by day and sex by night, twenty-four seven, that would be okay, too.

  Not to mention pleasurable. Sighing, he turned on his computer and accessed an online law library. Insanity was a favorite defense, if the number of cases Craig found was indicative. Fortunately it didn’t often work.

  Not one of those cases involved a shrink claiming that temporary loss of reason had been triggered by a sudden dearth of sexual activity. A couple mentioned insanity defenses based on supposed sexual addictions.

  Craig printed those abstracts, even though the connection seemed farfetched. He made a mental note to research the topic further and tried to look at the bright side. Chances were, since he hadn’t located any precedents, Landry hadn’t either, so he’d have an uphill battle, trying to set one in this case.

  Sighing, Craig leaned back in his chair and rubbed his aching head. For a moment, he stared beyond a bank of grimy windows. The sun was already going down.

  He glanced at his watch. Eight o’clock. He’d be meeting Casey at the gym in less than half an hour. Blood surged to his cock, taking his breath away. Lightheaded now, Craig figured there was no use trying to do more research. He shut the computer down and closed his eyes.

  Funny. In one day, Casey had burrowed her way into a spot inside him that he’d been guarding for years. He had an uneasy feeling that once he got the sexy personal trainer in his bed, he’d want to keep her there. Her sweet old-fashioned scent still lingered in his head.

  Might she be a good girl after all, beneath that frankly provocative exterior?

  Not likely. A muscle in his upper thigh tensed at the spot where she’d laid her hand last night. She was definitely a party animal. And that was good, because the last thing he needed at the moment was a woman he’d have to woo for months before he could coax her into bed.

  He stood, shrugged into his suit jacket, and picked up the gym bag where he kept his workout clothes. “See you tomorrow,” he said to Andi Syzmanski as he passed her office door. “You working on a big case?”

  The pretty, pregnant redhead looked up at him and laughed. “I wish. I’ll be here all night, finding case citations for Wells to use at his murder trial. Unfortunately I’m not one of the jocks who’s going to win our boss his bet with the chief of detectives next weekend. And with Gray working for Winston Roe, I’m automatically excluded from trying any cases they’re defending.”

  “Sorry about that. I’m off to the gym. Gotta tone the body so I can help Wells get his win.”

  “Take care. Say hi to Gray if you see him there. He was planning to drop by Russ’s and talk about a workout plan that he might be able to handle.”

  “I will. Don’t work too late. I’m sure your husband’s already worrying about you overdoing it before Junior there makes an appearance.” Craig had once felt sorry for Gray Syzmanski because of his eye patch and the limp that had him using crutches most of the time. He’d pitied him, that is, only until he’d watched Gray trounce top assistant state attorney Sandra Giancone-Delgado’s ass in a trial several months earlier, just before she’d resigned to be a full-time mom.

  He figured Gray had a lot more to envy than to feel bad about. After all, he’d made himself a reputation as a trial criminal defense lawyer second to nobody but his boss, Tony Landry. And after working there less than a year, he’d been named a partner in Winston Roe. Add Andi and the baby they were expecting, and Craig figured Gray must be riding damn high.

  Chapter Four

  As Craig jogged the short distance from his office to the gym, his excitement grew. But so did the knot of apprehension in his belly.

  He’d forgotten something. A condom.

  No way would he have sex without one. He’d heard Alan whine too many times in the past eight years that it had only taken one lousy session of unprotected sex for him to get Lurleen pregnant and destroy his future.

  Where the hell was the closest pharmacy?

  Then Craig remembered. There was a bright red condom machine on the wall in the gym’s locker room.

  He’d need quarters. Digging into his pants pocket, he felt a handful of change.

  Okay, he had that covered.

  His face felt uncharacteristically warm when he walked into the locker room past a couple of guys who were heading out. He hoped to hell he wasn’t blushing while he fed six quarters into the condom machine and waited for his purchase to spill out the chute.

  The foil-wrapped package caught the light as it fell into his hand.

  He must have gotten the last one, because a flashing message on the machine said, “Sold out.”

  A good omen. Craig took off his suit and hung it in his locker. Fate must have intended him to have sex tonight, or it wouldn’t have saved him that last condom.

  The last of the gym’s other customers left as Craig pulled on his exercise gear. He reached for a pocket, looking for a spot to stash the rubber.

  “Damn.” The cutoff sweat pants didn’t have any pockets, and neither did his T-shirt.

  He fumbled for a minute, then stuck the little square under the elastic waistband of his pants.

  Uh-oh. He imagined the thing dropping out onto the floor for Casey to see.

  Talk about embarrassing. But it would be worse than embarrassing if
he lost it, since there weren’t any more in close proximity.

  That would be downright tragic.

  He tossed the condom into his gym bag and took the bag along when he went to do his workout.

  * * * * *

  Craig looked good enough to eat. His rippling muscles and tanned skin that glistened with sweat took Casey’s breath away. And made her mouth go dry, anticipating…

  Maybe her senses were heightened because everybody else had gone and she was alone with Craig in the mirrored exercise room. His images surrounded her from all directions.

  Her nipples tingled and her cheeks burned as she watched his muscles bulge and contract. A strange urge to taste the glistening sweat that beaded on his forehead and around his neck nearly overcame her, but she managed to resist.

  He took off his T-shirt and used it to wipe the sweat off his neck and shoulders. Then he set it on top of the gym bag he’d been hauling around from one station to the next.

  What was in that bag that he didn’t want to leave in his locker?

  Oh, well. It didn’t matter. She had better things to consider.

  Such as the fact that he was now the next best thing to naked. And his body was to die for.

  He didn’t shave his chest the way a lot of serious bodybuilders did. She’d wondered about that, and she was glad he didn’t. Her fingers itched to burrow into that dark, silky looking growth and caress the bronzed skin that glowed beneath it. She had to cool off or she’d make a fool of herself, but that wasn’t easy. Everywhere she looked, his image scorched her gaze.

  At least six-two, Craig looked more like a man who worked with his hands than one who made his living with his wits. Still, there was an elegance about his long, lean body. She doubted a stranger would look at him and realize he could press over two hundred pounds of iron above his head and make it look like a child’s play.

  No one would doubt his prowess in the pool, though. The man reminded her of a Thoroughbred race horse ready to win the Kentucky Derby.

  Casey’s heart pounded. Her nipples grew even tighter, and her pussy contracted and gushed out more moisture that dampened her leotard. She counted the moments while he finished his workout. When he came to her, she squelched a sudden attack of nerves.

  He set his gym bag down and draped his T-shirt across his shoulders. “Want to join me for a swim?”

  She shouldn’t. Technically she was supposed to play lifeguard while clients swam. But Craig swam like a fish, and she told herself he wasn’t a client now because the gym had officially closed. “Sure.”

  “Want to skinny-dip?”

  What would Lisa say? Casey imagined her roommate would jump at the chance of ogling Craig in the altogether, but she couldn’t go that far that fast. “What would my boss say?” she asked, half-kidding.

  “Are you a lawyer, too?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because you just answered a question with a question. Typical lawyer tactic.”

  His smile seemed oddly sweet. Almost shy. It wasn’t at all in keeping with the brazen suggestion he’d voiced seconds earlier, or with the self-assured, almost cocky image he projected.

  Somehow that sweetness made him seem even sexier. He must use that smile like a weapon, to disarm women and put them at ease. That thought made Casey all the more wary.

  * * * * *

  Watching her swim had him hard as stone.

  He shouldn’t have bothered suggesting they skinny-dip, because the expanse of well-toned female flesh her suit revealed only whetted his appetite. Teased him.

  She must like neon. He narrowed his gaze on those strips of material that accentuated more than they hid. The color could only be described as neon purple, sexy and feminine all rolled into one. Like Casey.

  Unlike most of the female swimmers he’d grown up around, she had boobs. Round, firm orbs he wanted to explore. Orbs that bobbed on the surface of the water as she rested on the pool ladder and held his gaze.

  He wanted to stroke her all over, the way one of his books suggested. But he couldn’t deny he had a special interest in those nipples that poked at the material of her suit. They reminded him of tiny erections.

  If he didn’t move he’d die, so he pushed off and started swimming again. At the far end of the pool he executed a flip turn, then punished his body for the next four laps with an all-out butterfly sprint. Every one of his muscles reminded him he hadn’t trained for sprints since finishing his last swim season at SMU four years earlier.

  His balls ached and his cock hurt like hell, constricted as they were by the racing suit that had fit just fine when Casey wasn’t around. “I’ve had it,” he told her. “What say we take a breather in the sauna?”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  Craig levered himself out of the pool and held out a hand. Then he grabbed the gym bag.

  “What’s in there?” Casey asked when he set it on the sauna floor.

  Should he tell her? Yeah, probably. He wondered why she tied his tongue in knots when he had no trouble at all talking to a judge or jury. In any case he couldn’t seem to join the two syllables now to form the word “condom.”

  “Nothing much,” he mumbled, focusing his gaze on the pattern of wood slats that lined the sauna wall.

  “You’re blushing.”

  “No, I’m not. It’s the heat in here.”

  He hated lying, but who but a twenty-seven year old male virgin would turn red at the thought of admitting his gym bag contained a lousy rubber? At least the sauna’s scorching dry heat had deflated his erection some, which made his swimsuit fit better than it had before. He spread his legs, hoping to ease the pressure further.

  “Can’t take it?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.

  “I can take the heat. Can you?”

  “I think so.”

  Craig was certain now the flush that bloomed on Casey’s face had come on too suddenly to have been caused by the hot, dry air.

  Once again he got the impression she wasn’t a bad girl after all, but a good one masquerading as the ultimate sex kitten.

  And once again he discarded that idea as idiotic when she ran a hand up his leg, not stopping until her fingers were within millimeters of his smashed-down cock and balls. Close enough that he felt their heat.

  “Getting too warm?” he asked, settling his gaze on the purple scrap that barely hid her generous breasts.

  “What?” Her cheeks turned brighter than her swimsuit. “Y-yes. I guess I am.”

  There was that hesitation that made her seem so damn innocent. He saw it again when her hands shook as she reached for the top of her suit.

  When she peeled off the offending garment, he couldn’t think at all. It was his turn to shake now that she’d revealed full, creamy breasts centered with rosy pebbled nipples.

  God, she was gorgeous. The combination of her sweet smile and the brazen action was positively erotic.

  Sugar and spice. A nursery rhyme he suddenly recalled claimed that was what little girls were made of. Big girls were, too, or so it seemed.

  Craig’s mouth went dry, drier even than the arid air they breathed.

  His cock leapt back to attention so fast he thought it would split his swim suit. And it took superhuman effort for him to control his hands. They seemed determined to reach out and see if her breasts felt as velvety as they looked.

  But the authors of his sex books had all said not to move too fast. And he was determined not to display his ignorance. “Let’s hit the shower,” he said while he could still control his mouth and fingers that itched to explore every inch of her tempting flesh.

  * * * * *

  At least in the sauna she’d had the scorching heat as an excuse for turning six shades of red. Casey hoped the cool water sluicing over her body was doing its job and fading her heated cheeks. She doubted it, though, especially now.

  Craig’s fingers slid inside his minuscule racing suit. His gaze on her bare breasts, he shoved the navy material down lightly furred, muscular thighs,
past his well-defined calves. He stepped out of the suit and stood under the shower spray.

  The man didn’t exhibit an ounce of reserve. Of course he probably got naked in front of women all the time. She tried not to gawk, but his cock attracted her like a beacon.

  She supposed she should strip down, too. After all, who took a shower in a swimsuit? But when she tried to force her hands to do the job, they refused her brain’s command. Some hot number she was turning out to be!

  Her cheeks burned. So much for the water cooling her off. You’ve gotta get on with the program or he’ll guess you’re nothing but a fraud.

  For a long time Casey glued her gaze on a soap dish affixed to the shower wall at shoulder height. Taking a deep breath, she tried hard to fight down panic when she glanced his way.

  He’s naked. Buck naked. Of course he is, idiot. You saw him skinny out of that swim suit.

  She should be getting naked, too.

  Lisa would tell her just to peel off the bottom of her own suit and take a lascivious look at everything he’d bared.

  Come on, Casey, do it.

  She cursed herself for a coward.

  “Are you going to leave the bottom of your bikini on?” He reached out and slid his hands under the waistband but made no effort to slide the material down.

  “Oh, no.” For some strange reason, Craig’s amused comment helped to boost her courage. She reached blindly for the sides of her bikini bottom.

  He grinned. “Let me.”

  “Okay.”

  He started to push the suit down but stopped just above her hipbones. “Are you okay with this?”

  Was she? It was what she wanted. What she’d left Bone Gap determined to find. And from the first day she laid eyes on Craig, she’d wanted to find it with him. She drew in a deep breath, then looked him in the eye. “I’m sure. Go ahead, take it off.”

  She didn’t sound particularly confident, even to her own ears. But Craig didn’t seem to mind. His big hands felt warm against her hipbones when he pushed the fabric down. Her pussy gushed more hot slippery lubrication, and her skin burned at his touch when he slid the stretchy swim suit over her thighs.