I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to rip his clothes off in the back of the cab right now. When we fucked, all the tension and fighting between us came out and only made things hotter, and after a day like today, we had plenty of fuel for the fire.

In a moment of clear thinking, I had told the cab driver the address for the office. In that moment, I had thought I shouldn’t take him back to my apartment, I should keep my distance, at least until the trial was over and one of us was made partner. But now I was regretting that decision. The last thing I wanted to do right now was keep my distance.

We rode the elevator to the 21^st floor in silence, then walked to our respective offices without a word to each other or anyone else. I shut the door to my office, took off my suit jacket, and paced back and forth. This was a disaster. Continuing to have a sexual relationship with Jameson hadn’t seemed like a big deal before, but now with the trial starting, it suddenly felt different. Like we were playing with fire.

“Goddamn it, why did he have to kiss me?” I murmured to myself. “Why did I let him kiss me?”

“Talking to yourself?” I jumped and turned around to find Bev standing just inside the doorway.

“Bev! You scared the shit out of me,” I said. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“That’s because you were talking to yourself,” she said. “How was the trial today? You are back earlier than I expected.”

“The transfer from the prison was late, so we got a late start and the judge decided to call it after opening arguments.”

“What’s up with you and pretty boy down the hall?”

“What are you talking about?” She raised her eyebrow at me.

“You didn’t look at anyone, didn’t say anything when you came in, just stared at the floor and rushed to your office,” she said. “In the ten years you’ve worked here, you always stop to say hello at the front desk.”

“Nothing, it’s fine, just a long day,” I said. I wanted to finish the paperwork I needed to do and get home. I had a date with a bottle of wine and my vibrator.

“Mmmm-hmmm.”

“I’ve still got a lot of work to do, if you don’t mind,” I said as gently as could, even though I knew Bev would take it as an insult either way.

“Well, alrighty then.” She turned and left, the door slamming behind her. I turned back to my desk and continued pacing when I heard the door click open and close again.

“Bev, I already said I have work to do.” I turned around, expecting to see Bev standing in my office, but I nearly crashed into Jameson as he made his way across the room.

“What are you doing...” I said, but was cut-off by another kiss, this one even more intense than the last. He cupped my face with his hands and devoured my mouth, his tongue pushing into my mouth and demanding control.

“Jameson,” I whispered when he pulled away, my breathing ragged, my heart pounding in my chest.

“For once in your life, just shut the fuck up and don’t think about it,” he said, pulling me in for another kiss. His hand skimmed down the front of my shirt, deft fingers quickly undoing the buttons and pushing the fabric off my shoulders.

He tugged at the cups of my bra, pulling the lacy material down and rubbing his thumbs roughly across my nipples. I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning, when he took one of m nipples in his mouth. Without warning he turned me around and bent me over my desk.

“God I love your ass,” he said, grabbing me with both hands before he reached down and pulled up my skirt, the fabric bunching up around my waist. He removed my panties, letting them drop around my ankles. “Spread your legs for me, Olivia. Let me see the pussy I’ve been thinking about all day.”

Lust and desire rolled through me at his words. I spread my legs and let him see me. I heard the click of his belt buckle and the swoosh of fabric as his pants fell to the floor. Then he was right behind me, his hands on my hips, his cock poised at my entrance.

Without warning, he drove into me, and I had to stifle my cry with my arm.

“Fuck, Olivia,” he grunted, his thrusts hard and fast and uncontrolled, like a man who had been teetering on the edge of self-control for several days. He reached around and rolled my nipples between his fingers, tugging at them gently. He put one hand on my shoulder and used the other to reach between my legs, swiping his fingers over my clit. I moaned softly at the touch. Moments later, my body tensed and my fingernails dug into the wood of my desk as my orgasm washed over me, a sea of pleasure consuming my entire body. No one had ever been able to make me come so fast before.

As my body spasmed around him, Jameson moved his hand off my clit and to my other shoulder and fucked me with reckless abandon. He grunted and thrust into me one last time as he came. My chest heaved against my desk, my legs nearly shaking as they struggled to hold me up.

Jameson stepped back from me and pulled up his pants, discarding the condom before he walked to the window and looked out. I finally stood, my legs shaky in my heels, pulled my panties back on, and straightened my skirt and bra.

“We can’t keep doing this, you know,” I said as I buttoned my shirt.

“I already thought about it, listed every reason why continuing this is a bad idea,” he said, not turning to face me. “And it is … we both know we shouldn’t, but there is no way I’m going to be able to make it through a multi-week trial watching you, working with you, arguing with you, and not touch you. I just don’t have that much self-control.”

“It might do you good to learn some...”

“It’s just sex, and we are both professionals, so I think we can handle it,” he said, turning back to face me. “Unless you’re going to fall in love me and ruin it.”

“Not a chance in hell, Jameson,” I said. “I don’t do love. Especially not with an arrogant bastard like yourself. Frankly, I’m more concerned about you falling in love with me.”

“You and all your irresistible, lady-like charm?” He laughed and shook his head.

“Some men are secure enough to handle an assertive woman, Mr. Beck.”

“Oh, Ms. Roberts, you continue to underestimate me.” He made that annoying, dismissive clicking sound with his tongue, and I had to fight the urge to slap him. “But, no, you don’t have to worry about me falling in love with you.”

“Good, it sounds like we both agree, no love.”

“See, this will work out quite well then,” he said as he strode over to my door. “See you tomorrow, Olivia.”

“Asshole,” I mumbled under my breath as I closed the door behind him.

* * *

The rest of the week went by without incident, or any more office sex—or any sex for that matter. By Friday, I was beginning to wonder if Jameson had changed his mind about our agreement. Then, halfway through the medical examiner's testimony Friday afternoon, he leaned over and whispered in my ear.

“I can’t wait until we can get out of here and I can take you back to my place, spread those beautiful legs open on the kitchen island, and eat that sweet little pussy until you can’t remember your own name.”

I clenched my thighs together under the table and felt my cheeks flush, but kept my eyes forward and listened to the medical examiner drone on and on about his findings, until it was finally time for me to do my cross examination.

“Dr. Peters, you said you found Mr. Delaney’s semen inside the victim, is that correct?”

“Yes,” he said.

“And how long after having sex would you be able to find someone’s DNA inside a woman’s body?”

“Roughly 72 hours.”

“So if Mr. Delaney had sex with the victim anytime in the 72 hours before her death, his DNA would be present?”

“Yes, but—” I cut him off and kept going.

“Was there any other DNA inside the victim?”

“No, only Josh Delaney’s.”

“Would there be any evidence if someone had sex with the victim using a condom?”

“Yes, most condoms do leave some traces behind.”

“Did you find any inside Cecilia?”

“No, but we had DNA evidence.”

“So, you didn’t look for traces of condom use?”

“We had DNA evidence, there was no need,” he said defensively.

“So the answer is no?”

“No, the tests looking for condom traces were not performed, but—”

“Thank you, Dr. Peters. I just have a few more questions. There were signs of rape?”

“That is correct. Bruising, abrasions … it is clear someone was very forceful with her before she passed.”

“And how long before she died do you estimate that happened?”

“It is impossible to tell. It could’ve been minutes, or it could’ve been hours.”

“But enough time that bruises formed before her heart stopped pumping?”

“Yes, but some people can bruise in a matter of minutes.”

“Were there any other bruises on Cecilia’s body?”

“Yes, on her wrists, and of course the strangulation marks around her neck.”

“Is it possible to tell how big the hands that left the bruises on her wrists would have been?”

“It’s not an exact science, but we can estimate.”

I walked back to the defense table and pulled three photos off it.

“In your estimation, Dr. Peters, which of these hands most closely represents the set of hands that bruised Cecilia?” I laid the three photos on the witness stand in front of him.

“Those ones,” Dr. Peters said, pointing to the middle photograph. I held it up for the jury to see.

“Do these hands look like they could belong to Mr. Delaney?” I asked.

“Objection!” Drew yelled from the prosecution table. “Speculation.”

“Withdrawn … I’ll rephrase,” I said. “Dr. Peters, how tall would you estimate the owner of these hands to be?”

“Assuming the person has somewhat normal proportions, I would say between six-foot-two and six-foot-six,” he said. I didn’t have to spell it out for the jury that Josh wasn’t that tall. They saw him standing in the courtroom every morning when they entered. Josh was, at best, five-eleven.

“Nothing further, Your Honor.”