Confessions of a Litigation God: A Legal Affairs Full Length Erotic Novel (23 page)

After we clean up,
we fuck like animals. Sometimes, I leave after just one round, and
this is part of a calculated plan. I’ll cuddle with her just a
tiny bit, until I can get my heart rate under control and feeling
back in my legs. Then I’ll give her some excuse like an early
morning meeting I have to prepare for, which necessitates my having
to leave. The calculated part is that I want her to start
understanding and accepting that I had to go back to the safer place
of sex-only with no emotional ties.

Other times, I may
lay with her in the bed for quite a while, talking or watching TV.
This is not part of a calculated plan and occurs because it’s
something I subconsciously want. I try to make myself pull away,
running various excuses through my head. But on those occasions, I
don’t listen to my common sense and stay in her arms because,
damn it, if feels shamefully good. We will usually fuck at least once
or twice more, but it’s done at a leisurely pace and with no
regard for time. On those occasions, I won’t leave her place
until usually two or three in the morning.

The only kink in the
calculated portion of the plan was the first night Mac was back. She
tried to get warm and fuzzy with me, but I shut that shit down
quickly.

We had been frantic
when we went at each other since it had been several days since we
had sex. We were practically clawing each other in need and her
headboard was hitting the wall so hard, I know people in the
apartment next to us had to have been pissed. When we were done, we
lay on our backs, gasping for breath, and I was already thinking of
hitting it again, when she rolled over to face me.

“I wanted to
thank you again for coming to Nashville. That really meant a lot to
me,” she said softly.

I didn’t roll
over to look at her, but just angled my head slightly her way. “It
was no biggie,” I said distantly.

“It was a big
deal,” she said with so much gratitude that it made me cringe.
“It changes things… don’t you think?”

No, Mac…
it changes nothing
, is what I wanted to tell her, but I didn’t
have it in me to see hurt fill her eyes. She’d had enough of
that recently.

Instead, I rolled
over on top of her and kissed her deeply, pushing my hand between her
legs. I kissed her to distraction, and then I said, “I have a
better idea—less talk and more action.”

Since then, Mac
hasn’t tried once to get me to engage in anything more than
witty banter or maybe some shop talk.

The formula seems to
be working. Eat, fuck, and leave.

When it is time to
depart, I usually wait until Mac falls asleep and quietly make my
exit. I always lean over and kiss her forehead, which is a fucking
weakness… I get it. But she’s sleeping and doesn’t
know I’m doing it, so no harm, no foul.

Even though I’ve
come to love staying in bed all night with Mac, I don’t allow
myself to do it because I have to make sure that my message stays
clear to her. That this is all it’s ever going to be. The
longer we can go on like this… developing this habit, the
better it will be for all involved.

I knock on her door
on this, her fifth night back, and wait patiently for her to open it.
We decided to order pizza tonight so I thought I’d have her as
an appetizer first, which ensures I have a semi when she opens the
door.

Immediately, I know
something is off, and I’d have to say it’s because her
face looks grim. “We need to talk,” she says quietly.

Yeah, that’s
not going to work with me, not when I’ve just been fantasizing
about my tongue between her legs. I step inside and walk right up to
her, causing her to tilt her head back to look at me. I hook the tips
of my fingers in the waistband of the white shorts she’s
wearing and give a quick jerk, causing her body to fall into mine. I
love the feel of her softness against me, and my semi goes completely
hard.

Leaning down, I
place my lips lightly on her neck and give her a tiny lick. “Talk
later… I want you too much right now.”

She immediately sags
into me, and I start to wrap my arms around her. I have so many
depraved things I want to do. But then she puts her hands up onto my
chest and gives me a slight push back.

Looking down at her
in surprise, I see that grim determination on her face again.

“No. Talk now.
Sex later.” Her eyes flash with challenge and dare me to
refuse.

There are so many
ways I could handle this scenario. I could capitulate and let her
talk my ear off. I have a feeling she wants to discuss our
“relationship”. Or I could distract her, because I know
there are certain spots on her body I can touch, and she won’t
be able string two words together.

Hmmm. Which way do I
want to go?

“I tell you
what,” I say with deliberation. “If you can carry on a
rational conversation with me for just thirty seconds while I try to
seduce you, I’ll give you my undivided attention for the next
two hours. You can talk until you’re blue in the face. Deal?”

Mac is so
transparent sometimes, especially when sex is involved. Her eyes
flare hot with the idea of me seducing her but also reflect challenge
back at me. She doesn’t like to lose, and I knew that would
make my offer irresistible to her.

She only hesitates
for a moment before she says, “Deal.”

If Mac was expecting
some time to acclimate to the challenge, she has another thing
coming. I go in for the kill right away, lunging at her. I pick her
up around her waist, walk three paces to the couch and toss her down…
albeit, a bit roughly. Her face registers shock as she bounces, but I
don’t spare it another glance. I’m already ripping her
shorts and her underwear off.

Sadly, I’m
going to leave her breasts covered, because thirty seconds is not
long and I need to put on my most skilled moves if I’m going to
avert a two-hour
blah, blah, blah
session.

I put my hand on her
chest and push her back, then spread her legs wide. Leaning over, I
look down at my target for just a moment, all glistening and pink
just for me, and then raise my eyes to Mac briefly. She’s still
wearing that same stunned expression that within ten seconds, I had
her stripped and splayed before me.

“Come on,
Mac,” I taunt her. “You have about twenty seconds left to
carry on a conversation. Let’s make it easy. Tell me about your
favorite movie.”

I don’t spare
her another glance though, opening my mouth and covering her pussy. I
give just a quick swipe up her center with my tongue but then I wrap
my lips around her clit and start sucking… hard. As an
afterthought, I push my thumb inside of her, gently massaging, but
it’s my lips and tongue that are the distractions here. Mac’s
hips buck hard against me, almost knocking me loose. I just growl my
displeasure against her clit, flutter my tongue against it for good
measure, and then start sucking again on her.

She cries out in
such a way that tells me that she’s loving this. She may be
losing the challenge, but she is immensely turned on by what I’m
doing to her. But hell, so am I. My dick is aching to get inside of
her.

Mac is so responsive
to me that I’m afraid she may come almost instantaneously and
manage to get a few words out of her mouth afterward, so I ease up on
her clit just a bit, licking gently for a few moments, just to get
her down a bit, but not enough to allow rational thought back in her
head.

When I’m
confident that the thirty seconds has expired, I renew my attack on
her, tonguing her almost viciously, until she explodes in my mouth.

It is so fucking hot
that I can’t control myself. Before Mac can even recover, I
pull her limp body up and half carry, half walk her around the back
of the couch. I push her chest forward over the back, and keep
pushing until her face is almost touching the cushions and she’s
on the very tips of her toes with her ass tipped up beautifully to
me.

Fuck, she has a
gorgeous ass. It’s not the first time I’ve had an
overwhelming urge to take her there, but there’s no way that’s
happening right now. Hell, it hasn’t happened yet because we
are always going at it so fast and hard, and sorry… but any
guy worth his fucking salt knows you have to work gently into those
things.

Maybe one day, but
it isn’t today.

I pop my button and
unzip my fly, pulling my engorged cock out and rubbing it between her
folds, relishing how slick she is.

Then I slam into
her, all the way, no warning, and she cries out and I have to stifle
my groan.

I fuck her
mercilessly, pumping into her so hard that my balls hurt a little
from the way they’re slapping against her. But I dig the
pleasure-pain principle so I don’t let up.

Pounding in Mac
while she hangs practically upside down on the couch makes me feel
powerful, and alive, and I’m reminded why Matt Fucking Connover
is the way he is.

This is the only
fucking way to live life, and I hope I’m fucking some sense
into her because if she’s honest, she’ll admit this is a
pretty damn good way to live.

My orgasm slams
through me so hard, that I can’t help the words that pour out
of me in sync to the way I’m shooting inside of her. “Mac…
Mac… Mac…”

When I’m
drained and with my chest still heaving, I pull back and slip out of
her, reaching forward to pull her back up. When she gets her legs
underneath of her, I start to turn her in my arms for a gentle kiss.

Instead, she
practically shrieks at me, slapping my arms away. “I can’t
do this anymore, Matt.”

I can’t help
but smile at her. She looks magnificent with her hair wild, her neck
red from an explosive orgasm, and anger sparking hot in her eyes.

Makes me want to
fuck her again.

“Yes, you
can,” I gloat. “Want me to prove it to you right now?”

“No,”
she says, her voice now back under control and sounding fatigued.
“I’m tired of being controlled by you sexually. I’m
tired of this… this… I don’t even know what this
is, but I’m tired of it.”

Yeah, right. Who in
their right mind would get tired of this?

Fucking. Best. Sex.
Ever.

Apparently, she
needs a little reminder so I reach out to her, grinning devilishly.

“No!”
she yells in frustration, and my hands drop. “No. I need you to
leave.”

You’d never
know it because I keep my cocky smile on my face, but inside, I start
to smolder with fury. She’s fucking ruining what I’ve so
carefully built back up this week. I thought she was on board with
where we went. I thought she understood my need for a “reset”.
She certainly hasn’t complained.

I stare at her for a
moment, still keeping that arrogant look on my face, when what I
really want to do is yell at her in frustration. Her eyes are
dismally sad when she just stares back at me, not backing down.

I’m not
backing down either. When I decided to “reset”, I did so
because it was what was best for me. It was done to protect me. I
don’t have room to look out for both of us.

Pushing my cock back
in my pants, I zip myself up while smirking at her. I don’t
feel like smirking but I do it anyway, so she knows she doesn’t
have a chance for anything more. “You’ll never be able to
give this up, Mac. Not for long anyway.”

I don’t look
for her reaction, because I know that what I just said probably
killed any bit of feelings she had for me. While I pretty much
assured myself it
would
be her reaction when I said those
words, I don’t want to see the utter disappointment and pain on
her face.

Because damn it…
even though I don’t want to, I do still care.

But ultimately…
not enough.

I have got to be the
biggest dumbass in the history of the world. The reasons may be too
numerous to list, causing a novel the size of which would rival
War
and Peace
.

I’ll just hit
the highlights.

Aside from the
obvious, that I should have never fucked Mac after I learned her real
identity, I would have to say my first screw up was in bringing her
flowers. It was a silly and lighthearted gesture on my part that
apparently holds a ton of meaning to a woman. While, granted, Mac
didn’t simper or make a big deal of the flowers—it was
still a mistake. It was a mistake
because
Mac didn’t
simper or make a big deal. That, therefore, gave me a false sense of
security with her. I underestimated her girlie side, because she
wasn’t blatant about it.

So I figured…
I brought her flowers with no major reaction, what could possibly be
such a big deal then about flying to Nashville to hold her while her
mother died?

Yes, even I know how
ludicrous that sounds, but my own ego is so battered right now that
I’m through trying to rationalize my actions. It’s just
easier to admit I’m a dumbass and try to move on.

Except I can’t
move on.

I fucking miss Mac
so bad that I’m having trouble sleeping.

Having trouble
concentrating.

Not having a hard
time jerking off, but that’s only because I have a stockpile of
amazingly sexy memories with Mac I can call upon for aid.

But I’m tired
of masturbating to the memory of a former lover. How could that ever
be satisfying when I’ve had the real Mac?

Probably the biggest
reason I’m a dumbass is because I failed to talk to Mac that
night at her apartment. Instead, I let that monster-size ego take
over, convinced I could fuck Mac into submission. Convinced if I gave
her the motherload of all orgasms, that she would forget about her
silly ideas of wanting a relationship.

If I had just sat
down and listened to her, I would not be sitting here in my office
right now, kicking myself in the ass. No, I would have had a
reasonable and intelligent conversation with Mac about the fact that
I just don’t want anything deeper than what we have. She is a
reasonable and intelligent woman. She would have listened and
respected my position, just as I respect her position to want more.