by Dave Daren
She tossed me onto the bed and then climbed on top of me after she had stripped. She was the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, and I wanted nothing more than to taste every inch of her. She leaned down to press another passionate kiss to my lips, and the rest of the night was spent indulging in our passions until both of us collapsed into an exhausted slumber.
I woke to the sound of my ringtone coming from somewhere far away. I blinked a few times as I remembered where I was and grinned when I saw that Eloa was spread out with only a sheet to cover her shapely backside.
Pale morning light peeked in through the small window in the loft, and I glanced at the clock to see that it was almost eight a.m.. I closed my eyes for a moment as I thought about the last time I had looked at the clock, which I was pretty sure had been some time around four a.m., so I’d only gotten about four hours of sleep.
The ringing continued, so I slipped out of bed and scooped up my jeans. I glanced back at the Brazilian bombshell when she groaned and buried her head in her pillow before she fell back asleep.
My stomach did a flop as I stared down at the number on the phone to see the name Judge Travis Williams.
Chapter 19
I stared down at the phone as it rang. If I didn’t answer soon, then it would go to voicemail, and I could pretend none of this had happened. But I didn’t want to give the judge the advantage of having me call him, so I took a deep breath and hit the answer button.
I didn’t feel alert enough to deal with Williams, but if Osvaldo heard that I’d had the opportunity to talk to the judge and didn’t, then I would have to deal with his irritation. Since his son was still in Everson, I wanted to make sure that I didn’t give him any reasons to send Alvaro after me, and I was cognitive enough to at least answer the phone call.
“Hello,” I said while I stood up straight and tossed my pants back onto the floor.
“Hello,” the judge huffed. “It took you long enough to answer.”
“It’s late,” I replied as I walked toward the side table.
My vision was still blurry without my glasses, so I slipped them on and looked around the room. I glanced over at the beautiful woman who I’d spent the night with, and a grin spread across my face as I watched her sleep.
Eloa stirred like she could feel me watching her slumber, and then her honey brown eyes blinked open and looked around until she found me. She watched me curiously as she slowly sat up, but when she saw the glow from the phone, she shrugged, ran her fingers through her hair, and then started to braid it.
Exhaustion washed over me as a yawn parted my own mouth, and my tired eyes teared up while I fought against the wave of dizziness that washed over me. I would need a lot of coffee to get through the day, or I might have to go back to sleep if I could finish my business with the judge fast enough, though I couldn’t exactly have the conversation I needed to with a reporter in the same room.
“Are you still there?” the judge demanded. “You’re the one who called me first, I should point out.”
“I’m here,” I responded as I slipped into my boxers. “I was still asleep. You’re lucky that I was in the room with my phone. I wasn’t expecting you to call so early.”
The beautiful reporter had finished with her hair, which now draped over her round breasts, and the morning light made her golden skin glow while it brought out the red highlights in her hair. She was breathtaking, and all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed with her and forget about the corrupt magistrate.
“It’s not early if you work for a living,” the judge grumbled. “Some of us actually have offices that we have to get to.”
I grimaced at the tone in the man’s voice, but I took a deep breath and held in the flash of rage that pulsed through me.
“Right,” I muttered when I was calm enough not to sound angry.
“Who is that?” Eloa asked as she finally yawned and stretched.
“Listen, I’ll call you back in about fifteen minutes,” I told the judge as I shook my head at my beautiful companion.
“Excuse me?” the man asked in a low tone that warned me that he was about to lose his temper.
“I just woke up,” I explained. “Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll be able to talk.”
“Fine,” the magistrate grumbled. “But one minute more, and I’m going to move onto my next task for the day. Don’t waste my time.”
“That’s reasonable enough,” I replied as I leaned down to pick up my pants. “I’ll call you in fifteen minutes.”
The judge hung up before I could, and I rolled my eyes at the man while I tossed my cell phone onto the bed. I needed to get dressed, use the bathroom, and then head back to my own apartment where I could shower and get ready for the day.
“Are you leaving?” Eloa asked with another yawn.
“I need to make a phone call,” I told her. “I’m going to go. But I’ll see you later?”
“You can stay here while you make your call,” she said as she crawled across the mattress toward me.
The sheet slipped away from her body, and heat pulsed through me as I watched each erotic movement. She was temptation personified, but I only had fifteen minutes to call the judge back and set the ball rolling on my client’s plan, and if I slipped back into the bed with her, I’d never make the deadline.
“I really should get home so I can get ready for the day,” I told her before I leaned down to kiss her soft, bow shaped lips.
“I can make breakfast and coffee before you go,” she said as she stood. “You can leave after that. You didn’t get much sleep last night, and I’d be worried about you driving if you didn’t at least have one cup of coffee.”
“I appreciate that,” I said as I finished getting dressed. “But I only have a few minutes before I need to call my contact back. And I’ll need privacy to talk to him.”
“Who is it?” she asked as she strolled over to her closet and pulled out a dress.
Her hips swayed with each step, and the light cotton dress caressed every curve as she slipped it over her head. She mesmerized me with everything she did, and I cursed myself for needing to leave when I could spend a lazy morning with the Brazilian bombshell.
“Someone I need to talk to about a case,” I hedged.
She turned to look at me with her beautiful honey brown eyes as her head tilted to the side as she studied me, and then her bottom lip shifted into a small pout when I stayed quiet. I told myself to stay strong and not tell her anything, or I’d never leave, and Osvaldo’s plan would be dead before he could even launch it.
“You can’t tell me who it is?” she asked with a small smile.
She ran her hands up the inside of my shirt and tingles erupted everywhere her delicate fingers traced. She stood on her tiptoes to run kisses along my jawline, but I gently pushed her away so that I could think clearly and not blurt out the judge’s name.
“No, I can’t,” I said with an apologetic smile as I put my finger under her chin and claimed a quick kiss.
I took a look around the small loft area she used as her bedroom to make sure that I wasn’t leaving anything behind. I had my phone, wallet, and keys in my jeans’ pockets. I found my shoes near the small window that looked out to the warehouse next door where they’d been thrown over in our haste to get into bed. They were buried underneath the shorts and crop top that Eloa had been wearing, and I tried to ignore both as I reclaimed my footwear.
The socks were dirty, and I just couldn’t bring myself to put them on, so I stuffed them in my back pockets and slid my feet into my sneakers. I hated the feeling of my bare feet in shoes, but it would only be until I could reach my apartment so I ignored the mystery dampness in the shoes and smiled at Eloa.
“Well, what’s your call about?” the tenacious reporter asked as she lingered near the top of the spiral staircase.
Her eyes glittered with mischief as she watched me cross the open area to her, and she licked her lips as her eyes ran over me and back up.
“It’s confidential,” I told her as I waited for her to move out of the way so that I could go downstairs.
She puffed out her cheeks and narrowed her eyes as she stepped out of the way. She was a reporter, and I knew that not answering her questions would only make her more curious, but I was a lawyer, and there would be things that I couldn’t tell her.
“Alright, alright,” the beautiful woman grumbled as she followed me down to the first level. “I’m going to brew some coffee while you’re in the bathroom. Do you want me to make you a cup? You can just bring the mug back next time you visit.”
I grinned at the implication that she wanted to spend another night together. She was an amazing woman, and I could easily see myself in a relationship with the gorgeous reporter. Though, I would have to make sure that my passwords were strong so she wouldn’t be able to access any of my client’s information.
“Sure,” I said with a nod before I went into the only bathroom in her apartment.
It was tucked underneath the loft with bookshelves on either side of the door, and I half-expected it to be a tiny little room. But I was pleasantly surprised when I flicked on the light and saw that it was a full-sized bathroom with glittering white tile, a shower with glass walls, and a clawfoot tub that would easily fit the both of us. I used the restroom, washed my face, and ran some water through my chaotic mass of waves until it didn’t stick out everywhere like I’d stuck my finger in a socket.
My fifteen minutes were almost up when I emerged from the room, but the smell of coffee wafted over me, and I drifted over toward Eloa instead of the door. She had a steaming mug of the dark brew waiting next to a bottle of vanilla caramel creamer and a spoon.
“That’s one of my favorite mugs,” she said as she nodded toward the black mug with a spyglass on it.
She was sitting on the kitchen’s island with one muscular leg crossed over the other. The hem of her cotton dress had slipped back to show a generous amount of her thighs, and the fabric clung to her unbound breasts. She lifted her pink unicorn mug to her lips and took a long sip of her coffee, and I stood mesmerized by the sight of her for a moment.
“I’ll make sure to bring it back,” I reassured her as I shook my head and then dumped copious amounts of creamer in my cup. “Thank you for the coffee. And last night. I’ll call you later to figure out when you’ll come over to my place.”
“Okay,” she said with one of her thousand kilowatt smiles. “I’ll be going into the studio a little later, and then I’ll need to research someone who can help me with bringing my case to the DA.”
“I suggest Stephen,” I remarked after I tasted the strong brew and nodded my head in approval at its sweetness.
“Stephen?” she asked with a tilt of her head and a lifted eyebrow.
“He was one of my coworkers down at the Public Defender’s Office,” I explained. “He’ll look great when you run the story. The guy spends all of his time with teens at the youth center he volunteers with, and I know he’ll be excited to bring down the Everson Juvenile Detention Center.”
“Perfect!” the brilliant reporter exclaimed. “I’ll look into him this afternoon.”
“Sure,” I said with a nod before I pulled my phone out. “I can give him a call later today so he’ll be expecting you.”
“Okay,” Eloa said as she set her coffee mug on the counter and jumped down. “One more kiss before you go?”
“Of course,” I said as I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her in.
I still had three minutes before my time was up, and I wanted to make the judge wait as long as possible. I wanted him on edge when I proposed the meeting so he’d feel the pressure to accept it. So I kissed Eloa deeply, and I reveled in the taste of coffee that lingered on her tongue and the feel of her soft lips against mine.
“Have a good day at work,” she said when we parted. Her voice was breathy, and the look in her eyes mirrored my own desire to stay right where we were.
“I will,” I told her as I forced myself to take a step back. “I’ll call you later today. We might be able to have dinner at my place tomorrow night. I just need to see where everything lands today.”
“Okay,” she said with a wave as I left her apartment behind.
The clock on my cell phone showed I had one more minute so I unlocked the screen and dialed the judge’s number. I had to wait until the third ring before the fat magistrate answered, no doubt his way of trying to take back some of the power, but I knew I would still have the upper hand in our conversation.
“Torres,” the judge growled into the receiver as he picked up. “You took your damn time calling me back.”
I jogged down the stairs to the first floor, and I realized my voice was a little uneven. But going down the stairs was an easier task than going up, and I soon had my breathing under control. I had managed to keep all of my coffee in the mug as well, and I saw it as a small omen that my talk with the corrupt judge would also go in my favor.
“Well, I did tell you I just woke up,” I replied as I opened the front door and stepped out into the morning air.
The converted warehouse that Eloa lived in was closer to the docks than my own apartment, and the scent of briny water and fish hung heavily in the air as I walked to my car. I took a deep breath in since the smell of sea creatures was still fresh and hadn’t had the chance to spoil in the heat. It mixed with the cool breeze that wafted in from the open ocean, and I felt transported to a different time when I might’ve been a fisherman who was leaving his wife for a long day’s work.
“You’re lazy,” Judge Travis Williams huffed as he brought me back to the present moment and the phone conversation that I was in. “When I was your age I was up with the dawn. I worked hard for my clients. It’s this lackadaisical attitude that got your client sent to juvie in the first place.”
I gritted my teeth as I resisted the urge to accuse him of corruption right then. There were too many people walking the street, and I didn’t want them to overhear our conversation. Instead, I took a deep breath in, unlocked my car, and then slid into the driver’s seat.
“I work hard for all of my clients,” I managed to say as I started my ancient blue Honda.
“Yeah, yeah,” the old man on the other end of the line grumbled. “That’s why you’re calling right? You think I should overturn my verdict.”
“I do think your sentencing was harsher than what was warranted,” I said as I pulled out of the parking spot.
The coffee mug that Eloa had lent me was precariously perched in one of my cupholders, but I’d managed to drink enough so that the tilted liquid wouldn’t spill everywhere. Still, I kept an eye on it as I joined the morning traffic.
“Of course, you do,” the fat magistrate said before I heard him gulping something down. “So you think you can just call me and convince me to change my mind?”
“Actually, I called--” I started to say.
“Now you listen here, Torres,” the judge interrupted. “I’ve been at this a lot longer than you. Hell, I was a defense lawyer while you were still holdin’ your mama’s apron strings.”
I rolled my eyes at the conceited man but let him continue his rant so that I could focus on the traffic as I drove toward my home. I had looked into the magistrate’s cases from when he was a defense attorney as part of my research. He’d been okay in his day, but I had a higher success rate than he did, and I had taken on tougher cases than the mediocre ex-lawyer had.
“And don’t think that I haven’t looked into your appeal,” the old man continued while I weaved through the bumper to bumper cars of a weekday in Miami. “They sent that garbage over to me a few days ago. You seem to think that the Everson Juvenile Detention Center isn’t taking care of the kids. But I’ve been sending people there for years, and they always turn out better for it.”
Except those kids who died after joining gangs, I thought to myself as I remembered the mother’s story about her young son being killed in the crossfire after he’d jo
ined a gang in the facility. I couldn’t help but wonder how many other young men emerged with a chip on their shoulders and fewer opportunities because of their stint in juvie.
“And that client of yours is as bad as it comes,” the fat magistrate said as he continued his justification rant. “You know who his father is. I suspect you work for the damned family. You need to get yourself straight, young man, before you wander down a path that’ll get you killed. Some time in Everson might be enough to get that boy on the up and up, but some people are just born bad. It’s not their fault, not really, their family brings ‘em down.”
“Camilo stole a car,” I said as I parked in front of my apartment building. “And it was returned without a scratch on it. Even the owner wasn’t upset enough that he would give the kid a three year stint.”
I’d listened to him long enough, but he hadn’t even talked to Camilo, and he’d barely looked at his, or his friend’s, case files before he sent them away to spend most of their teen years in a juvenile detention center. I took a deep breath in while I climbed out of my car and headed into the building, I needed to keep myself calm if I was going to convince the judge to meet with Osvaldo, and yelling at him about Camilo would not help with that.
“It’s called a deterrent,” the judge huffed. “I wouldn’t expect some fly by the seat of his pants smart aleck like you to understand. But I have that boy’s best interests at heart. He’s going to end up in prison, or worse, at the bottom of the bay, if he keeps following in his father’s footsteps. Three years at Everson Juvenile Detention Center, and he’ll realize he needs to walk away from the life of crime his family leads.”
I stood in the lobby of my building as I debated whether I should take the elevator or the stairs. The elevator would probably disconnect the call, but the climb to my apartment would leave me panting. I sighed and chose the stairs. I would just have to take them slow, and thankfully no one was in the stairwell to hear my side of the conversation.
