Criminal Pleasures (5 page)

“OH—” Brendan’s back arched as a shock of white-hot pleasure pulsed through his dick, tightening his balls.

Marc lowered his face and kissed Brendan tenderly as he tightened his grip around their slippery cocks and pumped against him.

Brendan’s thoughts splintered and he lost himself in the sensation, Marc’s most intimate flesh gliding with his, the pressure building low in his belly. He could feel the ridges of Marc’s cock as they pushed against each other. Brendan spread his legs, wrapping them around Marc’s thighs.

Marc moaned into Brendan’s mouth and then gasped, breaking the kiss. “I want you to come with me,” he growled. “I’m sorry it’s so quick, but I’m so ready.”

Brendan nodded. “Me too, God, me too.”

Marc’s fist tightened around their cocks and his pelvis thrust harder, increasing the rhythm, the friction between their flesh intensifying. Brendan felt Marc’s balls slapping against his, and then he was gone, drifting on a wave of abandon and pleasure so sharp it was almost pain. He felt Marc’s hot seed splash onto his stomach seconds before his own release came, and he howled, fists tugging on the sheet as hips and slippery erections undulated together, bringing a wave of pure bliss.

Brendan lifted his ass off the bed, wanting to keep the contact, maintain the ecstasy even as the blast of pleasure ebbed. As Marc’s sweat soaked body collapsed on top of him, he sighed and eased back down.

Brendan struggled to catch his breath. When finally he could speak, he laughed softly. “That,” he said, “was by far the best apology I’ve ever gotten.”

Marc chuckled, his face buried in the side of Brendan’s neck. “
Grazie
. My pleasure.”

Finally peeling himself off of Brendan, Marc got out of bed and disappeared from the room. Brendan sat up, propping himself on his elbows. His eyes had adjusted and he took in his surroundings. A beam of moonlight shone through one window in the corner, falling onto a sturdy, dark wood dresser. To his right was a double door closet. In the corner, a laundry basket.

He looked up as Marc stepped back into the room. He tossed a towel at Brendan, who caught it. It was warm and wet, and he used it to clean himself up, his eyes locked onto Marc’s naked form across the room as he tugged on a pair of pajama bottoms from the dresser.

Marc turned and faced the bed, his face shadowy, shirtless in white cotton pajama pants with red stripes. The addition of the PJ bottoms did nothing to hamper his striking image. If anything he looked even more alluring than he had completely naked, like a shiny package to be unwrapped. Already Brendan wanted him again.

“You have to leave,” Marc said. “Someone is coming by in the morning and you can’t be here.”

Brendan’s stomach dropped, the hazy euphoria of post orgasmic bliss fleeing like a slapped horse. He ordered himself to remain dignified. He had no right to expect anything from this. He’d wanted to have sex with a stranger. And he had. End of story, apparently. Letting out a long sigh, he sat up, and searched the floor for his clothing. “All right,” he said.

Marc drifted over and sat on the end of the bed, his chin-length hair draping over his eyes as he stared at the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could ask you to stay.”

Brendan glanced at him as he zipped up his pants. “It’s all right, I understand. Who’s coming over?”

Marc’s head lifted, his pale brown eyes glimmering in the soft moonlight from the window. “My fiancée.”

Brendan froze, his shirt gripped in his hand. “Your
what
?”

Chapter Four

The old woman sitting in Brendan’s office crossed her arms under her ample bosom, her wrinkled jaw tilted upward as she looked him over, seeming to find him wanting. “You look pretty young to be a lawyer. How long you been out of lawyer school?”

Brendan forced a smile. “Long enough, Mrs. Heffernan.”

“It’s
Miss
Heffernan.”

“I apologize. Miss Heffernan.” He picked up the file folder on his desk, sifting through the pages within. “I’m just trying to get through the preliminaries here. We have an attorney joining our staff in a few days who specializes in injury cases like yours. If we take your case, I’ll be ultimately passing you over to him. He’s older than I am. He even has a few gray hairs, you’ll like him.”

Her expression soured. “Are you mocking me?”

“Of course not. Just making a joke. Miss Heffernan, I’ve investigated your claim, and I need to ask you something.” He looked at her, and she narrowed her eyes.

“Ask me what?”

“Are you sure you want to pursue this lawsuit?”

She huffed, shifting her bulky weight. “Course I’m sure. What’s the problem?”

“I’ve come across with some incidents from your past that may hinder your claim.”

Alarm flashed in her pale gray eyes, then she regained her composure, jutting her chin out once more. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Can you take the case or not?”

“If we take the case, I’ll have to ask for a retainer fee.”

She leaned forward, her face folding in a scowl. “What the hell for? That store is rich as Rockefeller, they’ll pay out, and then you’ll get your money. I’m an old woman. I’m injured, I can’t afford a retainer!”

Brendan sighed quietly. Deidra Heffernan was claiming to have slipped on talcum powder in the beauty aisle of Telford’s Pharmacy. According to her, the powder had fallen to the floor and broken free of its container, and since no one at the store had cleaned up the mess, it was still there when she made her way down the aisle and stepped on it, causing her to fall down and twist her knee. Brendan suspected she emptied the powder onto the floor herself. But no one had seen her do it. She’d been stealthily positioned to obstruct the security cameras. 

He began pulling pages out of a folder and setting them on the desk before her. “1981, slip and fall at Wendell’s Diner. 1989, slip and fall in the bathroom of Foley’s Department Store. 1995, slip and fall at Sal’s Donut Shop. 2004, slip and fall in the Providence bus terminal.”

“What’s your point? It’s not my fault these places leave dangerous stuff all over the floor to trip me up!”

“Of course not,” Brendan said. “But if
I’ve
discovered your previous lawsuits, then Telford’s lawyers are going to find them, too. It’s going to make you look like a fraud. And we’re most likely going to lose. So if you want to proceed with the case...” He slapped the page with her newest claim down before her. “Then I’ll have to ask for a retainer.”

She stood, grabbing her cane. “You’re just a
little boy
. I wouldn’t pay you a dime! I’ll find a real lawyer. A man who knows what he’s doing!”

“Good luck with that.” Brendan smiled. “Terry Ann can show you out.”

She limped dramatically toward the door. “I can find my own damn way out!”

Minutes after she left his office, Terry Ann peeked her head in, her green eyes wide. “She didn’t look happy.”

“No.” He rubbed his temples. “She wasn’t.”

And neither was Brendan. He’d been trying to fight his way out of a funk all week, ever since Friday night. When he’d slept with someone’s fiancé. He’d tried to shake it off, telling himself it was fine, he wasn’t looking for attachments. He’d been attracted to someone, had a roll in the hay, and now it was behind him.

Or it would be, if he could only stop stewing about it. After Marc had dropped that particular bomb on Brendan’s head, he’d said nothing further. Beyond repeating that he was sorry. Humiliated, Brendan had finished dressing and quickly left the apartment. He kept telling himself he had no right to be hurt. He’d been promised nothing. He’d taken a risk. Risks were...well, risky.

At least he knew one thing for certain now. He most definitely
was
bisexual. It was the most erotic experience he’d ever had, and he couldn’t stop the flashbacks that invaded his mind in quiet moments. The kissing, mostly. He’d never been kissed like that before.

So big deal, he was enlightened about his own sexuality. But now the only person he could imagine being sexual with was beyond his reach. Fucking
engaged
. 

Why had Marc bothered telling Brendan he was engaged? He could have just told him to piss off and left it at that. Why did he confess? It was driving Brendan bonkers. He had to stop thinking about it. It was distracting him from his work.

“You okay, boss man?”

He looked up, having forgotten that Terry Ann was in the room. “Oh yeah, fine. Everything all right out front?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Got some appointments in today, I’ll send them on to you.”

“Good. Thanks. Oh, so our charming Miss Heffernan,” he slapped the folder closed, “will not be coming back. She’s made a fortune over the years by being decidedly clumsy. I knew if I asked her for money up front she’d bail. Christ, I hate these cases, and I’m no good at them. People coming in with back braces and limps and I know some of them are legitimately injured but it’s the
whining
that gets to me. Does that make me a bad person? I don’t know how Gregory does it. Thank God he’ll be here Monday. I can pass all this mess on to him.”

“He called.” Terry Ann winced. “He can’t start for another week. Some family thing.”

“Oh, man.” Brendan let his head fall on the desk. “I can’t work understaffed like this, I need to get back to my own cases.”

Terry Ann rounded the desk and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. Couple more weeks and you’ll be back to the soothing sounds of bitter divorce and brutal custody battles.”

He looked up. “You promise?”

She laughed. “Hey, you know Deidra Heffernan had a really expensive handbag. It matched her cane.”

“You see?” Brendan pointed at her. “This is why I need you around. Details like that. I was sitting here feeling guilty. Having all sorts of thoughts. Like maybe she trips and falls because she needs the money for medicine. Because our economy is broken, and it’s her only recourse.”

“Nah, I think she’s just fine. Who knows what other scams she’s got going on?” Terry Ann frowned, lips pursed as she studied Brendan. “Hey, do you want to get a drink later?”

He looked up quickly. “A drink? Just...you and me?”

Terry Ann’s cheeks flushed, and she held up a hand. “I’m not asking you on a date, Brendan. It’s just that Willa and I thought you seemed kind of...sad this week.” She shrugged, grinning. “I mean, you haven’t teased us or given us a hard time in days, it feels weird.”

He grinned. “You guys are sweet, thanks. It’s just...I think I’m a little tired.”
 “Why don’t you leave early today?” Terry Ann laughed. “I know I don’t sound like a model employee, suggesting you skip out on your own business. But there aren’t any more clients scheduled, and Jeremy’s here. Willa and I are just gonna be catching up on data entry for the rest of the day, we can take your calls. Seriously, you look beat.”

He smiled at her. “Not so princely anymore?”

She grimaced, then laughed. “Maybe a prince who’s been through a battle or two.”

He checked his watch. It would feel good to leave early, get a little time to himself. Maybe take a hot bath and have a whisky. He hadn’t had much time to be alone with his thoughts since last Friday night. Perhaps if he gave them a little attention, allowed himself to wallow a bit, those thoughts would stop creeping in when he was trying to work.

“You know what? I’m going to take your advice.” He stood.

Terry Ann grinned, her cheeks dimpling. “Awesome! Wow, I feel so powerful.”

“No, I’m just highly suggestible. Don’t stay too late. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, have fun, and relax. Hey, you should go get dinner at Bibeta’s again!”

Brendan flinched as he gathered up his briefcase. “Oh, I don’t know. We were just there.”

“I know.” Terry Ann’s smile wilted. “But that’s the last time you looked happy.”

****

Brendan’s car was parked on the street, and he cursed when he saw a ticket on the windshield. He’d gone to great lengths and expense to get a parking permit, but the meter readers around here always seemed to be stoned, and didn’t bother to check. When he’d caught one of them leaving a ticket a few days back, and pointed out his permit, the young man sleepily responded “Sorry, man. My bad.”

One of the differences he’d noted between Boston and Providence was that the smaller city was
way
more laid back. The pedestrians even walked slower around here. In some ways it was refreshing, but being used to a more hurried pace, Brendan sometimes found it frustrating. 

His phone rang just as he climbed in and shut the car door. He groaned when he saw the number. “Hi, Dad.”

“Why aren’t you in the office?” the gruff, familiar voice asked.

“Jesus, Dad, what have you got the Eye of Sauron down there?”

His father laughed. “I called your office, Willa told me you’d left. You know, if you want to gain clients, you have to actually
go to work
, you realize that, don’t you, Brendan?”

“Yeah, thanks. Your wisdom is of great value to me. Now what the hell do you want?”

“I just called to see how things were going. I do have a vested interest, after all.”

“In me or in the business?”

“In the business. I don’t give a crap about you.”

“Thanks, Dad. Love you, too.”

“I know you do. How was your first weekend in Providence?”

Brendan huffed. “It was all right, I guess. I got laid.”

“Did you, now? People usually sound happier about that.”

“Yeah. I’m practicing my morose attitude. I aspire to be a cranky old man like you.”

“Don’t make me come down there and kick your ass. All right, I’ve got a meeting, I’ll let you go back to...whatever it is you’re doing. Call your mother this weekend, she misses you.”

“Will do. Later.”

Brendan smiled as he hung up. He actually missed his father, though back when he was working directly under him he’d fantasized about killing him on a daily basis. Brendan Burke Senior was an overbearing perfectionist, but Brendan found that the call had cheered him somewhat. Just hearing his father’s familiar voice and teasing barbs made Brendan feel more solid, more like himself.