Confessions of a Litigation God: A Legal Affairs Full Length Erotic Novel (11 page)

And then…
well, you see the pattern.

And I wasn’t
liking the pattern, because I was getting away from my true nature.
So I decided to break said pattern by hooking up with Lydia and
breaking this tie I have with Mac. Didn’t mean I wasn’t
going to fuck Mac again, because I would. I’d tell her the
truth about Lydia, and then I’d fuck her again.

Then I’d be me
again.

Except… it
didn’t work out that way. I met Lydia for drinks in the lobby
of my hotel. I took one look at her as she walked into the bar…
tall, beautiful, confident… sexy, sexy, sexy woman.

And I knew in that
first glance that I couldn’t do it. Not because of any guilty
feelings of what it might do to Mac, but only because of the
crystal-clear realization that I only wanted to get it up for Mac. In
fact, not sure I can get it up for anyone but her—a fact that
bothers me, but what’s a man to do?

So I had a drink
with Lydia and told her that I had to get up early for my mediation,
and we parted ways with a friendly hug.

The cab driver pulls
up to Mac’s apartment building and my eyebrows rise. This is
pretty swank and not what I would have expected for a first-year
lawyer that graduated with Columbia law school debt.

After I pay the
driver, haul my carry-on case into her elevator, and make it to her
door, I’m itching. Itching to see Mac, itching to fuck her, and
yeah, itching to hold her.

I’m such a
pussy.

When she opens the
door, my breath hitches and yup… she topped the “hottest
thing ever” scale again. She looks young with her hair in low,
braided pigtails that hang over her shoulders and her face scrubbed
fresh. She’s got on sweatpants and an old t-shirt, but they hug
her form perfectly, although I bet she’d rock a school girl
look in a short, plaid skirt and Mary Jane’s. That thought has
my dick perking up interest.

“What are you
doing here?” she asks in surprise.

I run my eyes up and
down her body, realizing that she would probably be the sexiest woman
ever in anything she could possibly wear. I’d get a woody if
she wore burlap, I bet.

“I’ve
been fantasizing about you for two days,” I tell her as if she
asked the most ridiculous question. “Why wouldn’t I be
here?”

Walking across the
threshold, I lean down to nuzzle her neck with my lips and wrap my
arms around her waist. She smells like flowers and maybe a hint of
ice cream.

Mac’s arms
come up, not to return my embrace but to push me away. “Matt…
I look a mess. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“You look
beautiful,” I tell her while holding her with my gaze, so she
knows I’m not messing around with her. “And you’re
going to invite me in so I can fuck you senseless.”

That’s all it
takes, and Mac is on board with me. Her eyes fill with heat and
longing, and then she’s in my arms and I’m walking back
to her bedroom. I did take a moment to notice the rich appointments
of her apartment, which is luxury by any standards. Expensive
hardwoods, supple leather furniture, custom drapery. No way could she
afford this, but she tells me it’s her roommate’s
apartment, who is a socialite heiress or some shit.

I don’t give a
fuck.

Just want inside of
Mac.

Rather than slake my
lust instantly, I end up stripping Mac and pushing her into the
shower with me. I want to get cleaned up and hopefully refreshed a
bit so I can go at it all night with her. It will take that long, in
my opinion, just to make up for not being with her the last two days.
She ends up trying to entice me into shower sex, but I don’t
think I could hold her up for that long as tired as I am. So I tell
her to finish up, because she has a lot more hair than I do, and I
head into her bedroom to wait for her.

I dry off, throw the
towel on the floor, and lay back on her bed. My eyes instantly start
to close with fatigue, so I drop one foot to the floor to ground
myself.

That’s the
last thing I remember.

***

Saturday morning
shower sex.

Hottest thing ever.

So yeah, if you
haven’t noticed, it just keeps getting better and better with
Mac.

Apparently, I fell
asleep last night while waiting for her to finish her shower. She
didn’t wake me up, but rather crawled into bed and joined me in
slumber. Just like in Chicago, I woke up with her pressed against me.

Just like in
Chicago, I put my hand between her legs and started working her.

She woke up fairly
quickly, and reached a hand behind her back to palm my cock. That’s
when I growled, “Playtime’s over” and rolled her on
to her stomach.

Then I was pumping
away inside of her, and we both got off quickly.

Too quickly to
satisfy either one of us, so we made it back into the shower, and
here we are.

We make pretenses of
actually wanting to get clean by washing our hair and then washing
each other’s bodies. But you can’t expect people like Mac
and me to put our hands on each other and it remain chaste.

Nope. It turned into
an inferno.

Now I have Mac
pressed up against the tile wall, and I’m on my knees in front
of her. I have my mouth between her legs, rubbing her clit with my
nose, then my chin, then my tongue and I could drown happily right
here. She has her fingers tangled in my hair and is pulling me hard
against her, grinding back against me. She’s demanding, and I
fucking love it.

Love it even better
when she comes hard on my tongue, her body trembling viciously.

Standing up, I find
my own legs a little shaky, because you guessed it… hottest
thing ever, and Mac just makes me fucking weak with lust. But I rally
like a champ, pick her up, and wrap her legs around my waist. Her
arms slide tight around my neck, and we just stare at each other a
moment. Her eyelashes have droplets of water on them and her green
eyes are sparking at me, hot with desire. Her lips are soft and wet,
and I have to have them.

So I kiss her…
deeply, but with care. Tilting my head to the side, I angle in just a
bit deeper and as our tongues are slowly dueling, I slide into her
with one, easy push. Mac’s breath stills, and her mouth goes
slack against mine.

“Oh, Matt,”
she breathes against me. “If I could freeze this moment…”

Her words fucking
slice into me, not in a good way, but not in a bad way. In a slightly
uncomfortable way, and I don’t know what to do with that
feeling. I pull back slightly and see Mac’s eyes are closed in
rapture and her top teeth are embedded in her lower lip.

She looks sweetly
sexy as she waits for me to move within her.

So I do. Short, slow
strokes… because the angle I have only allows for short but I
can make it work, especially because I can grind my pelvis against
her… at just that spot. She groans with every thrust and when
she lays her cheek against mine, the moment actually become a little
too intimate for me so I pick up the pace. How I maneuver my arms
under her thighs, I’ll never know, but I rest them in the
crooks of my elbows and lift her higher, spreading her a little
wider.

There… that
angle right there. That gets me in deep. Now Mac’s head falls
back and thunks against the tile wall as I’m able to go harder
and deeper, but she’s feeling no pain. Which is good…
because I only want her to experience pleasure from me. Trying to one
up myself, trying to make her moan a little louder, a little longer,
I ease one foot back to give myself more leverage. I pull my hips
back, prepared to slam deep.

Except that foot
slips on the soapy tile and we start to go down. I know it’s
going to hurt… maybe even break something, so I tighten one
arm around Mac’s waist and unhook the other from under her leg,
throwing it straight up in the air. I grab onto something… the
showerhead, yes, that’s what I have, and I hold tight.

My legs scrabble for
traction, and then stick… to what I don’t know, but
we’ll chalk it up to good balance. Just as I feel steady and
have Mac safe with no fear of falling, the damn showerhead pops off
under my grip and falls… slamming into my shoulder…
right on whatever that fucking bone is on the end, before clattering
to the floor.

“Fuck, fuck,
fuck,” I grit out between my teeth as water starts pouring down
on us from the headless spigot, and yet I can’t help but pull
back out of Mac and slam into her again, because as much as my
shoulder hurts, it still feels better when I’m moving inside of
her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck that hurt.”

But I keep on
pumping, pushing her right back up against the wall and keeping to a
slower, safer pace.

Mac giggles with her
lips resting against my shoulder, kissing away the hurt. I slam in
and out, pissed I broke her shower and needing a good orgasm to set
things right.

“Kiss me,
baby,” I pant against her cheek.

And she does. Pulls
back from my shoulder and locks her lips with mine. Her tongue is so
sweet and the way she pushes those little noises into my mouth?

Hottest. Thing.
Ever.

When Mac comes…
I follow after her. It’s not even a choice for me to wait,
because I find it’s hotter… sexier… just better
when I go with her.

We come down off our
post-coital high, and she giggles some more as I turn the water off
and kisses the red spot on my shoulder. It really hurts, too.

“How about you
make us some breakfast?” I tell her as I hand her a towel.
“I’ll fix your showerhead.”

She grins at me.
“You are a man of many talents.”

“Yes, I am,”
I agree with her.

“You have one
talent I like best,” she teases.

I snort, because I
know what my best talent is.

I ask anyway.
“What’s that?”

“You’re
the best damn litigator I’ve ever seen,” she says with
pride. “You’re like a litigation god.”

I stare at her, just
blinking… like a fucking owl… all wide-eyed and blank.
“You like my litigation prowess the best? After all the things
you’ve seen… after all the things I’ve done to
you… after all the orgasms I’ve given you… you
like what I do as a lawyer the best of all my talents?”

I’m slightly
miffed.

She grins big and
snaps the towel at me, catching me on my ass. “Just kidding…
your best talent is your oral skills. You give the best head.”

My ego puffs just a
bit as I return her smile, rubbing the spot where the towel just
rained fire on my skin. See, I told you I was great at giving head.

Mac gets out of the
shower and, while I dry off, brings me their toolbox. It’s not
much, but it has the wrench that I need. I’m able to get the
head back on, but it really needs some plumber’s tape to make
sure the seal stays tight. I make a note to remind myself to bring
some over the next time I’m here.

Then I freeze.

Because I’m
contemplating coming back. Am I coming back?

Have I signed up to
become an official card-carrying member of the monogamy club?

Images of our porn
session from ten minutes ago flash before me. Not just the
unbelievably sweet sex, and not just the incredibly powerful orgasms
that abounded, but also the way that we laughed while having sex when
I saved us from falling. If that’s monogamy… okay, yeah…
I’ll sign up.

As long as Mac
remembers it’s just sex. If she can abide by that, then sure…
I can give up all the other women. Not a problem at all.

Shaking my head, I
get dressed. I’m getting pretty damn good at lying to myself. I
can spout all I want that it’s easy to give up other women, but
the full truth is… yeah, it’s easy, because the only one
I want is Mac.

Yup.

Card. Carrying.
Member.

Mac makes me
pancakes while I sit at her kitchen table and drink coffee, admiring
the French bistro décor, which includes a black and white
tiled floor that I bet cost a fortune.

“So, do you
watch TV?” she asks while scooping a pancake out of the pan and
pouring more batter.

“Sure. When I
have time. I usually DVR stuff and then I’ll watch a marathon
on the weekend.”

“Me too,”
she says with a laugh. “I’m usually a Law & Order
girl, which I know… not very original for an attorney. But
lately, I’ve been getting into
Criminal Minds
.”

“Yeah, I love
Criminal Minds
too. It’s so creepy, thinking that evil
like that exists out there.”

“Right? It’s
why I have to balance shows like that with comedy,” she says
with a tinkling laugh, and my stomach rumbles. I’m not sure if
it’s because my body loves her laugh or I’m just hungry.

“What type of
comedy do you watch?”

“
Family
Guy
, mostly.”

Now my ears perk up.
I knew Mac was sort of like a fantasy woman, but it’s just been
confirmed. “That’s my absolute favorite show.”

“God, Stewie
cracks me up so much,” she says, laughing heartily now and
pulling the last pancake out of the pan.

“No way.
Brian’s the funniest,” I tell her, grinning at her back,
although she can’t see me.

Turning from the
stove, she brings the stack of pancakes over to the table and sets
them down. She turns back and starts gathering plates and utensils,
which lets me watch her ass, which is molded under a pair of yoga
pants. When she sets everything on the table, having previously
stocked us up with butter and syrup, I reach over and grab a few
pancakes with my fork, pulling them onto my plate.

“Well, I’ll
also admit… I’m a closet reality show TV junkie. I love
Survivor
and
Big Brother
,” she says as she sits
down and picks up her cup of coffee, smiling at me over the rim.

Dropping my fork to
my plate where it clatters, I clutch both my hands to my chest in
mock pain. “That just kills me.”

“What?”
she exclaims, starting to laugh at my display. “What’s
wrong with reality TV?”