CHRISTOPHER

 

I lost.

A part of me doesn’t want to believe it, and certainly doesn’t want to tell the partners about it, but at the same time I can’t deny the slam dunk that Ava Rose delivered to that courtroom. It was a thing of beauty. I had to adjust myself a couple of times while I was watching her.

That was one hell of a performance from a first-year associate whose boss didn’t even bother to show up to the court hearing.

The fact that my client turned out to be a pedophile certainly made it harder for me to want to fight for him. I got a little bit of satisfaction watching Jeremy drag his sorry ass out of the courtroom and into custody while Ava shook her own client’s hand, a look of fierce pride on her gorgeous face. Most people think lawyers’ morals have a price tag, but there are some things that even I draw the line at.

Looking down at my cell, I email the outcome to my firm partner as I head out of the courtroom, knowing I’ll have a vice on my throat the moment I get back to the office. I take one last look at Ava Rose, her cheeks pink and flushed with triumph, as she speaks quietly to the judge.

Watching her completely rip my client apart would usually piss me off. But right now I just want to drag her into an empty office here at the courthouse and bend her over something. She doesn’t seem like she would be opposed to it, going from the looks she’s been giving me. There’s something about her–something I can’t quite put my finger on–but the moment I laid eyes on her I felt something similar to possession take hold of me. Now I’ve seen her at work in a courtroom, it’s only gotten stronger.

I want her.

I want her very much.

While stepping out of the courtroom door I send another email to one of my interns–the proficient one.

Research Ava Rose from Page & Sons. Want info on my desk by the time I get back to work.

I stick my phone back in my pocket and keep walking. Outside, the sun is shining in the sky. The case didn’t take too long, but the sun sets early these days. It always takes me a while to get used to it, that feeling the day is ending and my life is passing too quickly. Ava is probably too young to have such a problem.

Too young, but sure as hell not as innocent as she looks. No, something tells me that the vanilla look is just an act.

As I walk back toward my bike in the courthouse’s parking lot, I hear the tell-tale click of heels on the asphalt behind me and smother a grin. I turn to see Ava Rose following me, her briefcase swinging in her hand. She must have followed me out of the courtroom.

Had she cut her conversation with the judge short to follow me? I know she’s as intrigued with me as I am with her, but I had thought I’d at least have to work a little bit.

“Mr Cole,” she says when she realizes I’ve stopped for her. “I didn’t get the chance to thank you for such an interesting case.”

“I wouldn’t call it interesting, Miss Rose,” I say, though I take her delicate little hand in my own when she offers it to me. It’s warm, but I’ve always burned hot. I see the way her cheeks subtly change color as we shake. “At least, it wasn’t at first. I’d heard Page & Sons hired a secret weapon. Where did you study?”

She looks pleased when I call her a secret weapon, but when I ask the follow-up question she frowns slightly then drops her hand to her side. “University of Mississippi.”

I feel my eyebrows rise. That’s not even in the top one hundred universities. She’s too good to have been pushed out of the big ones because of academics. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if my intern gets back to me and informs me that she had perfect grades. It must have been money. I glance back down at her watch, letting my eyes linger briefly on the curve of her waist before shaking my head.

“It’s a shame you didn’t come from one of the big three. You could’ve had a promising career with Yale or Harvard behind you.”

I see her bristle a little bit at my words, but I can tell she knows it’s true. No wonder she found herself at some backwater firm like Page & Sons. No matter how good she is, if she doesn’t have a solid college behind her then none of the top firms will take her. I briefly wonder if she ever applied to Benson & Cole.

She probably did. She looks hungry. Not just for a career, I think as I notice the way her eyes flicker over me. I’m not far away from my bike and the sun is shining down on us, so I don’t want to stand around in a hot parking lot all day. At the same time I don’t want to leave without at least getting her number.

“But enough about work,” I say. “Why don’t you let me buy you a drink to celebrate your success?”

She looks surprised. “I… I have to get back to work.”

“Some other time, then,” I reply.

She scratches the back of her heel with her other shoe–a very expensive pair from the looks of them. No way can she afford those on a first year’s salary, not with student loans draining her bank account at the same time. Where’s she getting her money?

I step closer, wanting to be in her space as much as possible, and I’m rewarded when she gulps even as she tips up her elfin chin to try and meet my gaze.

“Have a drink with me.”

She blinks rapidly and I can feel her resolve loosening. I love this. This power that comes from drawing a woman toward me. It’s a completely different thrill to what I get in the courtroom or a board meeting. This is the kind of domination I can really enjoy, and not have to be subdued or deflect toward the partners because it’s good for my career.

And I want to see her beyond the courtroom. I want to know if the rush I’d felt when I saw her at work can be replicated elsewhere, and whether she’s as peculiar and intriguing when she’s not standing in the middle of a room with all eyes on her.

I could tell at the time she was nervous, as though she’s not used to that kind of attention, but she was very good at not showing it. So good that now, with the case over, I want to see how much it would take to watch her unravel. To show the cracks beneath that perfect little façade, to hear her voice crack and her breaths coming more quickly. I want to see her raw, and not perfectly put-together.

“All right,” she says. She pulls her phone out of her briefcase and hands it to me.

Tapping in my number I’m partly annoyed that she pulled her cell out first, but I make up for it by sending a text to myself so I’ve got her number as well. She’s not going to get away from me. I have to have this woman.

“I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Rose,” I tell her. I give her my best bedroom eyes, the kind that make most women melt, and she openly shivers. It’s a boost to my ego.

I turn away and walk over to my bike, shucking on my leathers and pushing my briefcase onto the seat with my back to her. I know when I turn back around, I’ll see her still standing there.

Sure enough, when I glance back before putting on my helmet, I see she’s observing me with eyes that could almost be called lidded. Not quite lusting, but genuinely interested. I want her lusting. So I slide over the saddle and give her a good look at me before turning the bike’s key in the ignition and giving it a rev.

She jumps, pressing her hand to her chest and looking at me with a suppressed grin. That, coupled with the sudden surge of power on my groin makes me even more frustrated than I had been in the courtroom. Good thing I’ve got the executive washroom back at the office, because I sure as fuck will need some alone time once I arrive.

I wonder what it would look like to have Ava Rose come undone on my bike? That’s definitely a thought that I should save until I’m not driving.

I give Ava Rose a brief nod and drive out of the parking lot, feeling her eyes on my back as I ride off.