Lovers in law (4 page)

Only the lingering glance at my
bulging crotch and the mischievous glint in those sparkling, green
eyes told me she’d hated breaking off the kiss as much as I
had.

“Thanks for the offer but I don’t
think it’s a very good idea,” she said nonchalantly, although her
body had been saying something very different five minutes earlier.
“I’ve told you, I don’t play that close to home.”

“That wasn’t a game,” I said on
behalf of my cock.

“Oh, yes it was.” She checked
her lipstick in the mirror. One red-painted fingertip rubbed away
the tell-tale signs from around my mouth too and she couldn’t
resist swooping in for one last kiss. “I simply needed to prove my
theory.”

“Which is?”

“That you’ve been desperate to do
that since I arrived this morning.” She paused but I didn’t
contradict her. “And no matter how much you tried to concentrate on
the files, you’ve been thinking from the waist down, not from the
neck up.”

As closing arguments went, it was a
fair summation. She bent to retrieve her briefcase, giving me one
last look at her skirt stretched across that perfect arse.

“So that’s it?” I said, unable to
believe she was walking away from the greatest kiss I’d had in a
long while. “Don’t I get leave to appeal?”

She laughed at this, throaty and
sexy. A laugh most women reserved for bed. “Trust me, you’re
appealing enough already. And now I know you’re a great a kisser,
it’ll be very difficult not to do it all over again.”

“You could always give in to
temptation,” I suggested. “I’m sure we could reach an out of court
settlement.”

She opened the door onto the busy
corridor, knowing I wouldn’t touch her while we were
overlooked.

“Nice try,” she said, “but no deal.
From here on in, I’m keeping it strictly professional. No matter
how stiff the competition.”

And with a cheeky glance down at my
groin, she turned on her very high heels and marched out of
chambers.

Quite frankly, I don’t know how I
made it outside. Well not with any dignity anyway. My legs were
ready to give way with unsatisfied lust of the filthiest kind, let
alone the aftershock of a kiss that I’d be fantasising over for
weeks to come.

Byrne by name and certainly red hot
by nature.

How can a girl expect to be cooped
up with such a perfect specimen of manhood all day long without
wanting to touch? It wasn’t natural.

And nor were the reactions
that man sparked in me. Believe me when I tell you, I’ve dated some
gorgeous guys in my time – and had mindless sex with several more –
but I’d never met one who drove me that wild on first
acquaintance.

There ought to be a legal limit to
the amount of sexiness a man’s allowed to carry around in one body
and, from where I’d been standing, Radford Byrne went way over his
quota.

That tall, hard, muscular body of
his belonged on a rugby field, not in a courtroom. It deserved to
be hot and sweaty and worked to its physical limits, not wrapped up
in a suit and made to behave.

Not that Radford Byrne
believed in behaving himself. He had the makings of a very naughty
boy under that sober exterior and I wouldn’t mind betting he’d soon
be heading home to give that bulge in his trousers some manual
attention.

The thought of him lying naked on a
bed with his huge cock in his hand liquefied my insides and made my
sex even wetter than it was already. I couldn’t wait to get home
and slide my fingers into my pussy. I hailed a cab and crossed my
legs.

From the minute Radford had laid
eyes on me that morning he’d wanted to fuck me. It didn’t take a
genius to figure it out, although I’d had a little help from my
brother, a renowned psychologist. One summer he’d given me a crash
course in body language, figuring it would be useful to work out
when witnesses were lying.

In truth, it had given me the
complete heads up on men.

I could spot the first signs
of attraction at fifty paces and knew instantly how interested a
guy was in me. From the look-but-don’t-touch brigade who only want
to hurry home to their wives, right through to the heavy breathing,
let’s-go-outside-now type of men who rarely left behind their phone
numbers.

Although Radford Byrne didn’t fit
anywhere along that scale.

He was right off the chart
when it came to impure thoughts and had a body that could most
definitely fulfil every promise his kissable mouth made.

When he’d first come into view in
the clerks’ room, shouting about that damned woman, my mouth had
gone into overdrive. Overwhelmed by the way my sex had clenched at
the sight of that perfectly-formed body, and determined that he
wasn’t going to intimidate me professionally, I’d replied far more
sharply than I’d intended. But the effect on him had been
electric.

He’d loved it. Been turned on by a
woman answering back. And, furthermore, had liked what he’d
seen.

He’d thought I hadn’t noticed him
imagining the colour of my underwear, or memorising the shape of my
bum, but I hadn’t missed a covert glance.

From that moment on, I hadn’t
played fair. I hold up my hands and plead guilty as charged to that
one.

Because he seemed to enjoy
angry-sexy so much I’d launched into him again over coffee and
watched him shift uncomfortably to hide
his erection under the desk. When I’d uncrossed my legs,
I’d let my shoe scrape accidentally-on-purpose down his shin. And
when I’d read through my notes, I’d let my blouse gape to give him
an eyeful of my shocking-pink bra.

Except he hadn’t been at all
shocked. Only aroused.

And what an arousal it had
been.

Careful observation over a number
of years has given me the skill to rate a man’s trouser bulge along
a sliding scale that starts with disappointing and goes all the way
up to Oh My God!!!!!!

For Radford Byrne, I needed to
recalibrate my measuring stick.

His cock was undoubtedly
gargantuan.

My mind’s eye recreated a perfect
picture of it jutting hard, thick and strong from a matt of black
hair. The foundation stones of this mighty cock would be a pair of
rock-like balls, straining with hot cum.

Radford Byrne’s huge erection was
the image that carried me in through the front door of my flat
where I could finally give in to lust.

I collapsed onto the sofa, wrenched
up my skirt and plunged my hand down between my legs, desperate for
release. My panties were already soaking and my fingertip slid
deliciously along the folds of my sex. Two fingers sank into my
pussy’s hot depths and found my G-spot, eliciting a sharp cry of
pleasure I hardly recognised as my own.

My ravenous mind conjured up a
picture of Radford lying naked on crisp, white sheets. His fine
cotton shirt had given me a glimpse of a broad chest shadowed by
dark hair and I imagined that darkness narrowing down across his
stomach, pointing the way to the ecstasy that lay below.

Breathing hard, my naked,
fantasy self straddled Radford’s heavy, hairy thighs and watched
his hand pumping his enormous cock. The tip glistened with pre-cum
– I could almost smell its muskiness – and I licked my lips in
anticipation. His eyes would be closed and the bed would
reverberate with his deep groans of pleasure, turned on beyond
reason by me watching him wank.

I thrust a third finger into
my pussy, stretching it wider but it still didn’t measure up to my
fantasy of Radford’s solid cock. I ground down on my clit, my deft
fingers taking me closer to climax, my fantasy intensifying the
nearer I got to orgasm,

When the excitement grew too
much to bear, my fantasy self leaned forward and licked the length
of Radford’s hot body, all the way up to his throat. I tasted salt
and my mouth watered. My nipples rasped to hardness against his
rough chest and I remembered Radford’s fingers pinching hard – too
hard – through my bra when I’d kissed him in chambers.

My own fingers copied, the
exquisite pain sending shafts of pleasure down into my pussy,
propelling me over the edge.

Had Radford been with me at that
moment, I’d have penetrated his mouth with my tongue while I buried
his cock deep inside me. With my body above his, I’d slide down his
shaft, inch by delicious inch, splitting my sex wide around him. My
slow, measured movements would frustrate him but I’d hold him flat
on the bed, drawing his cock in and out of my molten sex.

The thick, black hair around
the base of his shaft would scrape against my shaved pussy until my
clit threatened to catch fire. Only the sticky wetness of Radford’s
pre-cum would stop my sex igniting at the friction of my soft skin
against his unyielding body.

When the leisurely strokes of
my silken sex up and down his shaft became too much for him to
bear, he’d take control. In one swift movement he’d roll me over
and pin me to the cool sheets. He’d force my thighs wider and ram
himself into me. I’d protest and beg him to slow down but he’d hold
my arms above my head and pump harder, shoving himself deeper
inside me.

His cock huge. His heavy balls
slapping against my arse. His taut body taking complete
control.

In real life and fantasy, I pitched
into orgasm, falling down into a chasm of pleasure that engulfed me
in dark, sweet sensation.

My back arched, my heart soared and
my pussy shuddered around my fingers. I cried out – the sounds
barely recognisable and distorted by rapture. Waves of fulfilment
crashed over me. My hips bucked against my hand. My fingers rubbed
harder and faster across my clit draining out the final shards of
sensation before I collapsed breathless against the sofa
cushions.

I lay there, eyes closed, unwilling
to surrender my fantasy.

Radford lay back against the
pillows, alone again in my imagination. Sweat glistened on his
skin. His chest heaved with exertion as if he’d run a marathon and
goosebumps stood out all over his hot body.

Thick cum soaked into the hair on
his belly and made his fingers sticky. Fingers that still grasped
around a throbbing cock reluctant to lose its hardness. He rubbed
his hand through his cum and massaged it into his balls and cock,
liking the slippery sensation of it sliding up and down his
shaft.

Just like my hot pussy.

His full lips curved into a sexy
smile and I wanted to roll him over and start all over again. If he
was half as good in real life as he was in my imagination, sex with
Radford Byrne would be mind-blowing. Up against the wall in
chambers, our bodies had been a perfect fit. Imagine how well
they’d connect without clothes to get in the way.

A second fantasy of stripping
Radford naked and fucking him in his office chair took hold but I
needed reinforcements for this. Dropping my clothes as I ran to the
bedroom, I fell naked onto my bed. I pushed my longest, thickest
vibrator deep inside my drenched pussy, guessing that even this
wouldn’t measure up to Radford’s cock.

With my vibrator switched to full
power, and my imagination going into overdrive, I lay back against
the pillows and came twice more.

I didn’t bother getting dressed
after my marathon fantasy session and spent the evening walking
naked around my flat in an agony of indecision.

The problem before the jury was
balancing my golden rule against missing a golden opportunity. And
I argued every point, both for and against.

Men like Radford Byrne don’t come
along every day of the week – and certainly not in those large
portions. It was all very well having principles, but there came a
time when laying down the law had to be interpreted literally by a
girl.

When it came to the perfect
package, this sexy barrister had it all. A great body, a strong jaw
line, baby blue eyes and a cock that had already made my mouth
water.

Added to which, he was
intelligent.

My brain has always been my
biggest erogenous zone and I’ve long had a thing for
super-intelligent men. Believe or not, there are surprisingly few
around – big muscles and massive intellects always seeming to
cancel each other out.

With Radford, however, he certainly
had it going on above the collar, as well as below the trouser
line, and I can’t tell you how big a turn on that was.

My golden rule prohibits me dating
either a colleague or a client. But strictly speaking, Radford
Byrne was neither. We were two professionals from different
branches of the law working on one case. Once it was over, we need
never see each other again. There’d be no awkward moments in office
corridors, no accusations of sleeping my way to the top and no
reason to explain why I’d gone out with him but not Mike.

In fact, this one degree of
separation could be the very thing that would ultimately bring us
together.

Or so I told myself.

But I didn’t want to rush into
anything. I had to play it very cool next time I saw him.

I therefore didn’t know whether to
be relieved or disappointed to find Radford in court on Wednesday
when I arrived at chambers. I was psyched up for that first
encounter – had a witty riposte ready and waiting – but instead I
was shown into his empty office and told to work alone.

Not that I didn’t have plenty to be
getting on with. One of the expert witnesses I’d interviewed had
touched upon an area of building defects we hadn’t fully explored
so I got down to some serious research. Nothing concentrates a
girl’s mind more than compiling evidence in a building negligence
case. A couple of hours making a list of further questions on site
specifications, materials analysis and stress tolerance levels
drove all thoughts of Radford’s sexy body out of my head.