Justify My Love: An Interracial Romance (BWWM)

by Caine, Candy

  “If you have Rick Thompson’s number on you, Marnie, it would be a good idea to get a jump on the DeMarco’s personal info.”

  Marnie took out her cell and speed-dialed Rick. He answered on the second ring with the usual, “Hello, beautiful,” which always made her smile. She explained what she needed and hung up.

  The smile didn’t go unnoticed by Frank. “He still trying to get you to run away with him?”

  She grinned. “ I’ll bet he asks that of all the women he deals with.”

  “I’ll have to ask Margie.”

  Margie was Frank’s personal assistant and happened to be in her fifties. Even so, Marnie thought Rick probably treated Margie as if she were the most desirable woman in the world. It was his just his way of talking to women.

  “You know something, Frank; this is going to be one tough case. I think whoever captures the hearts of the jury will win. Emotions, not facts will drive this case.”

  “I think your assessment’s right on the mark.”

  * * *

  That night Scott called as Marnie was about to undress for bed.

  “Hi, beautiful. What did I catch you at?”

  “I was about to undress for bed.”

  “Getting undressed, huh?” Scott said.

  “Uh-huh. Are you trying to visualize that?”

  “In Technicolor. Wish I was there to undress you, myself.”

  “Really? Like you could do a better job?”

  “In a heartbeat, woman.”

  “How would you make it so special?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

  “I’ll prove it to you. Go get your laptop and I’ll get mine. When yours is booted up, call me on Skype. Then I’ll show you the Langley way to undress,” Scott said.

  “All right…I guess.”

  “Trust me. You’ll enjoy this—no, we’ll enjoy this,” he amended.

  “Have you ever done this before?”

  “Nope. We’re entering new territory together. Now go get your laptop so we can get started.”

  Marnie came back with her laptop and turned it on. “It’s booting up now. Is yours booting, as well?”

  “Whoops! Nearly dropped my cell. Yup. Hang up and call me.”

  Tingles of anticipation were coursing through Marnie as she brought up her Skype account and opened her contacts. A moment later, Scott’s face appeared on her screen. “Hi, again,” he said and grinned. “Okay, place your computer so the camera picks up on the bed area and I’ll do the same.”

  Marnie placed her laptop on her dresser and moved back toward her bed. “Hey, I love that suit on you. The beige brings out the beautiful color of your skin. I also like the way it hugs your hips,” Scott said.

  Marnie felt a rush of heat to her face. “Thanks, but don’t you ever straighten your room? It looks like a crime scene.”

  “Don’t ruin the mood, Ms. Over-organized.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” she replied, taking in his bare muscled chest and the tent in his running shorts. It excited her to know she had such an effect on him.

  “Okay, ready?” he asked.

  She nodded as she removed her suit jacket before getting on the bed.

  “Time to get undressed. First I’d slowly open the buttons on your blouse, one-by-one, kissing your tender skin as I go.”

  Marnie began to open the buttons on her blouse slowly, her eyes on Scott, who was watching her intently.

  “I’m slipping it off your shoulders so that I can kiss those sweet rising swells above your bra.”

  Marnie removed her blouse and felt her pulse quicken as she imagined Scott’s lips on her body. She waited for his deep sexy baritone to continue. Her eyes widened as he freed his glorious erection from his shorts and her mouth went dry as he slowly stroked the length of it from the base of the shaft to the engorged tip. She felt her juices pool at the sight.

  “I’m standing behind you now nuzzling that gorgeous long neck of yours as I unsnap your bra. I can smell that wildflower scent you have on.”

  Marnie reached behind and opened her bra. As she let it slip off freeing her breasts, her eyes met Scott’s.

  His voice was huskier now. “Yes, they’re so beautiful. I must taste them. I’m kneeling before you now licking and sucking them, one at a time. Do you feel your nipples growing hard for me?”

  Her hands were now on her breasts, kneading and fanning her nipples, feeling them hardening them into tight beads.

  “That’s it baby. Play with them. I’m right here with you.”

  Marnie closed her eyes a moment and moaned as a shiver of pleasure rush straight to her pussy. Her breath was now audible and came out in ragged spurts.

  “Yes, that’s it. I’m unzipping your skirt, now. It’s sliding down off your beautiful ass.”

  Again Marnie followed Scott’s directive. She stood up and slowly pulled the zipper of her skirt down. Then she shimmied out of it, letting it fall to the carpet. She thought she heard Scott groan as she stepped out of it and got back on the bed.

  “I’m pulling off your pantyhose from your right leg. Can you feel my hands on your thigh?”

  Marnie began to remove her pantyhose.

  “Yes, now the left leg. Feel my hands on your calf. I’m stroking the inside of your thigh now,” he said, his hands moving on his shaft with increasing speed.

  Those words increased the pressure she was feeling in her sex. How she wished he was with her touching her, tasting her. She would have loved to feel that cock in her. His words interrupted her thoughts.

  “I’m nearing your pussy now. Feel my fingers slipping underneath your panties, teasing your love nub. Can you feel me?”

  “Yes.” Marnie was rubbing herself now, breathing heavily. “Yes…don’t stop.”

  “I’m slowly pulling off your panties, revealing your lush black bush. Open your thighs for me so I can see your pussy better. Yes, that’s it baby. What a glorious sight. Feel the fingers I’m slipping into you. Oh, you’re so wet, so warm, so inviting. Are you rubbing your clit up and down against them? Yes, doesn’t that feel good? I’m tasting you now. Can you feel my tongue swathing your nub? That’s right— move faster and faster as I play with your tits. I can feel your pussy milking my fingers,” he said, breathing heavily. “Are you close?”

  He certainly was. His cock was throbbing and ready to explode, but he wanted to climax at the same time Marnie did. He could hear her breathing and the noisy creaking of her bedsprings.

  Marnie had had her eyes closed tightly as she rubbed and stroked herself, pawing at her breasts. She opened her eyes to see Scott pumping his cock. “Yes, close,” she managed to say.

  A beat later, he heard, “Yeees! Oh, fucking, yeees!” Marnie’s body arched and bucked as she soared to an awesome, earth-shattering climax like no other she’d ever experienced.

  Just then she heard a loud groan and saw Scott shoot his cum into his running shorts.

  It took several beats for their vitals to return to normal.

  “So can I undress you better?” Scott asked, grinning.

  “I’m a believer. That was something else. But, I’ve never done anything like this before,” she said sitting up against her headboard.

  “Neither have I, but it was pretty damn good.”

  “I wish you had been here doing it to me,” Marnie said. She could still feel the erratic beat of her heart.

  “Me, too,” Scott said. “There’s always tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The following morning, Frank accompanied Marnie to Victor DeMarco’s arraignment. When his case was called, it was no surprise to find Edward Chalmers, the DA, present as opposing council. With the upcoming election the following year, prosecuting and winning a high-powered case would show his constituents how tough he was on crime. He was seeking another term as DA and then perhaps a run for a senate seat.

  Marnie knew he’d be tenacious and fight hard. She’d have to watch her every step in court carefully as if she were walking a
legal minefield. Any sign of weakness and he’d be on her like a piranha.

  “Mr. DeMarco you are charged with murder in the first degree, how do you plead?”

  “Not guilty, Your Honor.”

  Chalmers spoke. “Your Honor, the State asks for $2,500,000 bail and the surrender of Mr. DeMarco’s passport to avoid any attempt at fleeing the country.

  Marnie tried to get the bail reduced and at the same time remind the court DeMarco had roots in the community with a business to run, but the judge refused her request. Luckily, DeMarco was able to post bail using his home as collateral. As long as he showed up for court, he had nothing to worry about. After her brief meetings with her depressed client, Marnie was more concerned that the man would do damage to himself than flee the jurisdiction of the Court.

  Under New York State law, DeMarco’s case would next be presented to the Grand Jury. If the jury of 23 people voted for an indictment, DeMarco would be given a court date.

  Marnie would prepare her case hoping that the DA would offer a plea bargain. However, Chalmers, who was looking forward to litigating the case, told her to be prepared for a trial date, and sooner rather than later.

  Back at the office, she began to map out her strategy. Knowing the direction in which she’d be heading, she could begin to collect information pertinent to the case. Rick Thompson did the heavy investigation, but she always did a great deal herself. It was her way of trying to prevent being blindsided at the trial with surprises that could damage the case. Often enough, it was the secrets not revealed by the defendant himself that usually caused the most damage. Being a realist, Marnie knew that people hardly ever revealed everything in an attempt to protect themselves from ridicule or censure. It was usually up to the attorney to somehow pry those details out or else they became potential kegs of dynamite.

  Victor DeMarco was considered by many in the software field to be something of a Wunderkind. He started his software company when he was twenty-three years old with virtually little money and built the company into a multimillion-dollar corporation. He saw the need for security on the Internet long before many others did and provided a service that gave users peace of mind. The beauty of his company was that it continually evolved. The only son of a dockworker and waitress, he grew up playing computer games. Fascinated by computers, he went to school to learn their technology. After graduating, he designed computer games for a small startup company before taking the plunge to go it alone.

  He was well-liked in the industry and had a happy marriage. He’d been married to his high-school sweetheart, Marie Cascio, twenty-four years before she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. They didn’t have any children. From the sound of it, DeMarco seems to have loved his wife, which she intended to play up as much as she could. Hopefully Rick Thompson would be able to provide her with more information confirming this.

  She looked at the time. It was nearly three-thirty. She’d have to wrap up things soon. Scott was going to meet her at Corrigan’s Steak House at five for dinner. They were going to the christening of Frank’s grandchild that evening and had to be at St. John’s before six-thirty. Frank already left for the day to take care of the final preparations. He’d tan both their hides personally if they showed up at the church late.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The restaurant was filling with people taking advantage of the early bird specials. Marnie saw Scott waiting for her at a table by the window. He noticed her about the same time and waved. When she reached the table, he got up and kissed her. “Who needs to eat?” he said. “Let’s go outside and neck.”

  She chuckled, but replied in a let’s get serious tone. “We’ve got to be at the church on time, so I suggest we signal the waiter for menus and order.”

  “Unfortunately, a wise motion, counselor, but a lot less fun,” Scott said.

  The waiter approached and handed then two large laminated menus. “Hi, I’m Peter. I’ll be your server tonight. Would either of you care for a cocktail?”

  Scott looked at Marnie. “White Zinfandel?”

  She nodded, thinking that a nice glass of wine would help her unwind from the stress of the day.

  “Two white Zinfandels.” The wine was beginning to grow on him.

  After the waiter left to get their wine, they perused their menus a moment before Scott put his down. “Know what you’d like?”

  “Yes. Frank’s going to put out a spread after the ceremony at his place, so I don’t want to stuff myself. Louise will do that for me later.”

  Scott chuckled. “I’ve been there and done that, but I’m starving.”

  The waiter returned and Marnie ordered a garden salad with grilled shrimp tidbits. Scott decided on the 14-ounce steak dinner.

  “And how would you like your steak cooked, sir?”

  “Medium rare.”

  The waiter nodded and said that the entree came with two sides.

  Scott quickly scanned the side dishes listed on the menu. “Then I’ll have the loaded baked potato and mixed vegetables, please.”

  “Very good,” the waiter said and walked toward the kitchen.

  “Tell me about your day, Marnie.”

  “You must have heard about the DeMarco case.”

  “I know it fell into your lap. Happy about it?”

  “Yes and no. It’s the type of case every defense lawyer looking to make their bones salivates over, but I’ve never had to defend a client charged with murder before.”

  “You’ll do fine,” he said, reaching across the table to pat her hand.

  “It’s not only that. I keep wondering if DeMarco hadn’t requested me to defend him, would I have gotten the case or would the partners have given it to a more senior member of the firm?”

  “Don’t second guess yourself.”

  “First chair comes a great deal of pressure,” she said, toying with her fork.

  “I’ve seen you under pressure. You’ll make certain the Old Man earns his keep. Perhaps I should warn him now that the trial won’t be a walk in the park for him.”

  “You really know how to sweet talk a girl, counselor.”

  He grinned. “Who’ll be second chair?”

  “Frank.”

  Scott’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m impressed. You couldn’t have asked for a better person.”

  Marnie nodded and took a sip of her wine. “And how was your day?”

  “Had two arraignments, interviewed several witnesses—basically the usual stuff with the usual suspects.”

  She was well aware that it was Scott’s job to convict and put away the very people that defense lawyers, like herself, were trying to get off. It wasn’t her job to protect innocent people. She was there to provide everyone with the best legal defense possible—whether or not they were guilty. And that was the main reason a defense lawyer never asked their client if they’d committed the crime.

  Scott reached across the table again. Only this time, he took her hand in his. “I want to talk about us.”

  “Are you asking how I feel?”

  “I guess I am. I’m glad it happened. You know I care a great deal about you,” he said.

  “I feel the same…though I feel so silly now.”

  “About what?”

  She stared down at her hands for a moment before looking at him again. His face was a mask of concern. “I was truly afraid my scars would turn you off.”

  “They’re not that bad. Nor could they ever detract from the beautiful person you truly are.”

  His words brought tears to her eyes and she blinked them away. “That’s so lovely, Scott.”

  “And so are you,” he said giving her hand a gentle squeeze. His words left her with a warm glow giving her hope. Perhaps Scott wasn’t afflicted with a phobia toward commitment as Jason had been.

  The waiter returned with their food and interrupted the moment.

  All through dinner their talk was light. They discussed plans for their date on Saturday. Marnie felt more at ease with Scott each time she wa
s with him. They seemed to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. She suddenly realized the only thing that Jason appeared to have had in common with Scott was his healthy appetite. The thought made her giggle out loud.

  “What’s so funny? I hope I’m not wolfing down my food or—”

  “It has nothing to do with you. It was a stupid thought that came to mind about someone I once knew.”

  “All righty, then,” he said. “Time to ask for the check and make tracks.”

  As Scott signaled the waiter, Marnie opened her bag to grab her purse.

  “Dinner’s on me.”

  “We should really split the bill down the middle. This isn’t really a date,” Marnie protested.

  “What else do I have to use my hard earned paycheck for?”

  “Rent, food, gas, clothing—should I continue?”

  “Okay, good points, but I’m still paying the bill.”

  “Chauvinist.”

  “Card-carrying and proud of it,” Scott replied. Still grinning, he opened the bill folder, quickly added up the bill to make sure it was correct and wrote in the amount of the tip before he placed his credit card on top of the bill. Then he closed the folder and handed it back to the waiter.

  “Thank you, sir. Be right back with your slip.”

  “And thank you, Scott for a most enjoyable dinner.”

  “My pleasure.”

  The waiter returned and handed Scott the slip to sign.

  “Thank you again, sir,” the waiter replied, handing Scott his copy of the receipt.

  * * *

  The christening ceremony was beautiful. Sitting there in the church, Marnie could feel the warmth and closeness of Frank’s family. Growing up in her household, she never experienced any of that. Her parents were too concerned with their own personal needs to provide more than the minimum nurture to Marnie and her two siblings, though her brother was able to wring a little more pseudo-love from her mother for his self. Marnie craved the love and caring which was so badly lacking in her own childhood. She found it difficult to recall ever being held or hugged by her narcissistic mother who never truly wanted to have children. She had aspirations of being a model. Accidentally becoming pregnant with Marnie put an end to that dream. Looking back, her mother probably blamed her for that.