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Body of Law (Volume 2)
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BODY OF LAW
Volume 2
AMANDA LANCE
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to the ladies at Mark My Words publicity and By the Book Editing. Not to mention all my love to my street team and the amazing bloggers who support me.
Chapter 1
Sebastian
Murder
I had never genuinely considered the possibility of ending another person’s life—though occasionally I did have to consider the point of view of my more violet clients. Regardless, I could never relate to them, couldn’t understand why one would resort to bodily harm when there were always financial options…at least until now.
It was as I stewed in a jail cell that I understood a murderer’s thought process for the first time. I had spent a lifetime convinced that money, good looks, and a charming manner could fix any problem. But now, some primal part of me just wanted to ignore all of that and rip Quinn Morgan’s head off—literally. I was never much for challenging a man’s masculinity unless it served a purpose in court, but what kind of pussy pressed charges after a few punches? Hell, if Morgan was well enough to talk to an officer and fill out all the necessary paperwork, he couldn’t have been hurt too badly. And though it probably would have been disastrous, I began to wish he had been.
“Scott, Sebastian!” A stocky cop came around the corner with a clipboard in hand. He looked up at me and rolled his eyes before looking back down at his paperwork. “Your lawyer is here.”
Roger was practically glowing when they let him through the gate. Over the last four years we had taken turns getting each other out of contempt of court, but a felony charge was another beast altogether. Clearly amused by this, he took the time to snap a photo of me while the cop unlocked my cell.
“Thanks, officer.” Roger handed me the items that had been taken away from me at processing and grinned wildly. “Keep up the good work.”
“Yes,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Keep throwing innocent people in jail—you’ll buy me a summer house in Tuscany any day now.”
I slipped my watch back on and got as far out of the cell as I could. My obvious discomfort just made Roger chuckle like a little boy while he took a closer look at the subpar jail cell.
“Oh, this takes me back.” Roger shook his head with a snicker. “Did I ever tell you about the time my fraternity and I kidnapped the assistant dean’s dog—”
Clenching my jaw, I resisted the urge to slam my head against the wall. “—and you shaved obscenities into it.” I finished for him. “Yes, I’ve heard that story a few times.”
“No one appreciates the quality of a good story anymore.” Roger sighed as the gate to the lobby slammed behind me. I had spent over six hours stewing there, and though it had been more than enough time to regret my “crime,” other recent events burdened my mind—specifically, the furious brunette who had watched me get taken away in handcuffs.
Maybe if I changed the subject, I could get that last angry image of her out of my head. “What took you so damn long, anyway?”
Roger shifted to avoid a swaying drunk man. “Well, I did have to put on my pants…”
I turned on him angrily. The last thing I was in the mood for was Roger and his stories of his escapades.
“Now, now,” he chided “Don’t get all wound up. If your girlfriend hadn’t gotten the troops rallied up when she did, I wouldn’t have been here for another few hours. Speaking of rallying, we’ll need to get some pictures of that fat lip of yours.”
I blinked hard as I shoved my way outside. “Violet came to see you?”
“Right after I heard from you. And let me just say she is one heck of a firecracker. She was all spit and fire when she told me she barely had time to open your front door before the arresting officers barged in.”
“I wouldn’t know.” I sighed. “I was barely awake.”
“Ah ha! I knew you were sleeping with her. Lucky bastard—”
“Shut up, Roger.”
One of his eyebrows rose in confusion—understandably so. When prompted, I shared most of my conquests with Roger, and we frequently joked about woman with one another. The fact that I was acting defensively about this particular woman prompted more questions than answers.
“Wow, you sure are cranky for such a lucky man.” Roger seemed to be willing to approach the subject with caution, and I glanced at him from the corner of my eye while he fell a step behind me and spoke slowly. “She has an ass like an onion—it makes me want to cry. If I ever had a contraption to slow down time, I would have used it this morning when she was walking out of my office—”
I cut him off there. I had become familiar with those beautiful globes first hand, and now that I had, there was a possessive part of me that wanted to keep the experience all to myself. “Shut. Up. Roger.”
He laughed and took a mock swing at me. “Easy there, killer! I wouldn’t want you to break my nose, too.”
This comment calmed me considerably. “His nose, huh?”
“From what I’ve seen, a hell of a black eye, too.” Roger pointed out his town car at the end of the parking lot. “Nicely done by the way—though if anyone asks I never said so.”
I sighed and pulled myself into the backseat. Already I felt my headache ebbing away and a strange new pride overflowing my senses. Still, the idea of Quinn Morgan with a busted face was only the second best thought I’d had that day. “When is my arraignment?”
“Monday morning. 8AM. Obviously I got you released on a desk appearance ticket, but I seriously doubt you’ll be released ROR.”
I nodded and stared out the window, my mind once again returning to thoughts of Violet. Where was she now? Was she just as furious as I was? Just as eager for another ride on my face? I closed my eyes and tried to rub the tired out, only then realizing that Roger had been talking throughout. I shook my head and tried to catch up. “Who’s on the docket for my arraignment?”
Roger whistled and ran his hands down his leg. “Well…”
“Who, Roger?”
He snickered as he sounded out each syllable. “Wood.”
“Great.”
And just like that, my headache was back in full-force.
Chapter 2
Sebastian
Roger and I vaguely discussed our plan of attack before his chauffeur dropped me off in front of my building. And though the doorman gave me a look of curiosity, at least he knew enough not to say anything. It was only then, however, that it occurred to me how far Morgan’s actions could extend.
During my budding career I had garnered a reputation for being something of a “bad boy” within the Chicago legislative community. Yet there was a difference between being accused of being disrespectful in a court of law and actually getting arrested for a felony. Getting condemned as a violent individual could mean the difference between a whale of a client choosing me as his attorney or choosing someone else. The last thing I needed was a current client thinking I was a man who couldn’t control himself.
Though maybe when it came to Violet Donovan I couldn’t.
I hadn’t been in a fistfight since my freshmen year of college—the lack thereof being the influence of Professor Donovan and his insistence on non-violent protests. Ironic that another Donovan seemed to turn me right around on the subject.
I jammed the keys into my door, instantly annoyed that Chicago’s Finest hadn’t even bothered to lock the door behind them after arresting me.
My anger was nearly abolished, however, when I heard the singing—the haunting sounds of it enough to startle me from my annoyance. And though the sensation of my dissipating anger wasn’t entirely unpleasant, it did make me that much more aware of how easily Violet affected my emotions. I hadn’t been so effortlessly thwarted by a woman since…well, never. But because I had been, I’d had gotten myself into more trouble than I had intended—certainly more trouble than Quinn Morgan was worth. And for what? Another intern who would be gone at the end of the summer? I scolded myself and shook my head. As much as I enjoyed having my little intern in my bed, she wasn’t worth the trouble she had caused—let alone the risk of being disbarred.
Tufts of steam erupted from the open door of the bathroom. No doubt, the same place that hypnotic singing was coming from. I rolled my eyes and threw the keys on the side table.
“Hello?”
The singing stopped at the same instant the water shut off, alerting me to the semi-painful fact that she had been in the middle of showering.
“What are you doing here?”
If I still had something in my hands, I probably would have dropped it. Wearing nothing but a smile and a towel, Violet stepped out of the bathroom. Though I told myself not to, I was almost certain my jaw fell to the ground. Silently, I swore to myself and fixed my expression back to indifferent. Water glistened off her chest and arms, creating an illuminating effect as she stood in the afternoon light. Already moisturized, her legs had an almost shimmering appearance, making her even more intoxicating. And if that weren’t enough, I could see her taut nipples pressing against the thin towel.
“Nicky kicked me out of the office about an hour ago and you didn’t have your phone.”
I swallowed as hard as I could, strangely fascinated by the new lump that seemed to grow in my throat.
“Those little tidbits still don’t explain your presence in my apartment.”
“I was worried about you.” Violet’s smile widened as she shook her hair from her ponytail. “Is that such a crime?”
“I’m sure it is somewhere.” I cleared my throat and headed straight for my liquor cabinet. Maybe not a wise decision for the long-term, but certainly a good decision for the time being.
“I get arrested all the time.” I reached for a strong Irish whisky and hung on for dear life. “It’s practically a monthly routine.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“It wasn’t intended to.”
I could smell her as she approached me, that combination of my own soap and her natural scent giving me a hard-on all by itself.
“Are you alright?” she laughed nervously. “You don’t exactly seem relaxed for someone who gets arrested all the time.”
“You should put on some clothes.” I took a long drink and turned my back on her. Despite my resilience and experience with getting rid of women, I found making eye contact with her extremely difficult. “I have a lot of work to do.”
“I know” she sighed. “The paperwork alone—”
“Put. On. Some. Clothes.” I practically barked out the words, instantly feeling her playful disposition alter.
“Why?” she asked cautiously. “I thought you might feel better if I took some off.”
From the corner of my eye, I watched the white towel fall to the floor.
“Don’t do this to me, Violet.” I slammed the glass down hard, my frustration impacted by the observation that she didn’t even flinch.
She took a step closer—slowly, too, like the little predator she was. “Do what? I’m only trying to cheer you up.”
“I won’t tell you to get dressed again.”
Smiling, she took another step forward. And though my eyes were blurry from lack of sleep and a harsh night of thinking, I knew:
If she wanted it, I would give it to her.
I bridged the gap between us, pressing my mouth to hers before kneeling on the floor between her splayed legs. Vaguely, I was aware of my heart pounding in my chest, but the gasp she let out when she knew what I was doing was much more interesting to listen to. I smiled as I pressed my mouth to her cunt, my tongue stabbing through her shaved mound. Her thighs trembled as she opened herself further to me, her hips rising to meet me. I took the opportunity to dig my calloused fingers into the delicate skin of her inner thighs—pushing much harder into her than I probably should have. When she gasped again, I began licking her with the tip of my tongue. Hard, hot, and wet, her clit stood at attention for me, swelling even faster than it had the night before. And when her knees trembled at my assault, I looked up long enough to see her eyes shut tight, the sensation hitting her hard as she started to drip for me.
Before I fastened my lips around her clit, I reached around to hold her steadfast—suspecting her legs might give out on me at any moment. Finally, when I pulled her sweet little clit into my mouth, she bucked like a wild animal crying out in a way I hadn’t heard.
And then, I stopped.
Violet’s eyes shot open, wide and damn near horrified as I stood back up. Could she taste herself on me as I kissed her? If she hadn’t been so busy sliding her tongue into my mouth I would have considered asking her. Yet, as it was, she seemed almost as content trying to get my shirt unbuttoned as she had been when I was eating her out. I reached for one of her hot breasts and plucked the nipple. She called out, an indiscriminate noise that I couldn’t identify and frankly, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to stop and her pussy wasn’t telling me no.
I picked her up and plopped her onto the bed, strangely content that it was still unmade from when we had been there the night before. And while I should have been taking off my pants to get in the shower, I only shucked them off long enough for her to grab my raging hard on through my boxers.
She giggled lightly. “So much for putting my clothes back on, huh?”
Normally, I would have said something snide and clever, something sarcastic and deliberately hurtful, but I was too engrossed to think clearly, let alone put a sentence together. Instead, I kissed her hard; hard enough to wipe that smile off her face and make her wince. On the inside I smiled—laughed, really while I pulled my boxers down low enough to take out my cock. Still kissing her, she never saw it coming, was probably oblivious as I shoved the crotch of her soaking panties aside…
And then I took out my rage on her—all of it. Slamming into her again and again, Violet cried out as I lifted my mouth from hers. Within an instant, nothing else mattered except her bucking, writhing hips and that hot wetness of hers that I suddenly couldn’t get enough of. I increased my thrusting, admiring her nipples—like top hats now, they were so hard.
It was around that time that she drenched me with her first orgasm.
“Christ!” I cried.
The feel of her pussy muscles tightening around me and the sight of her eyes rolling in the back of her head made me ram her even harder than I thought possible. Still I held on, strangely determined to make her cum again, though the sensation in the low pit of my stomach begged to be released. When she reached between us to tickle my balls though, I lost it—my entire body tensing as I exploded inside of her. And sure enough, it was enough to bring on her second orgasm, causing a rippling sensation that downright amazed me.
“Oh. My. God.”
I heard her breathy words as she lay unmoving beneath me but was too stunned to respond. Just as rigid, I felt myself slowly growing soft inside of her—that realization that I hadn’t worn a condom hitting me like a lightning bolt. I pulled out of her and rose from the bed. And though I could feel her eyes on me, I never looked back at her.
“Get out.”
I stared out at the city below. The early afternoon sun penetrated everything in its path. And although I was thirty stories aboveground, I made an educated guess that the pavement was already steaming.
“What?”
“I’ve told you an absurd number of times now,” I said, reaching for my boxers. “My next attempt will involve drawing you a
picture.”
“Y-you really want me to leave?”At that point, I was glad, downright grateful I couldn’t see her. Judging by the disappointment in her voice, her lovely face was frowning and I wanted to do anything but acknowledge it.
Still looking out the window, I huffed and shook my head. “Hand me that pen and paper. I’m not much of an artist, but I think I can draw a basic diagram.”
“Fine, I’ll go.” I heard her light footsteps as she retreated to the bathroom and felt instant relief, knowing her looks of judgment were no longer on me. When she returned a moment later, I had difficultly not thinking about the sound of her putting her clothes back on. “But just for the record, I’m around if you need me.”
I resisted the compulsion to laugh. She was barely out the door and I already wanted to fuck her again. But need? I had never needed anyone before and had no intention of starting now. Still, the invitation remained with me—rattling around like the sound of her laugh and the taste of her in my mouth.
Chapter 3
Violet
Because the office closed early on Saturday I didn’t have anywhere to go once Sebastian banished me from his penthouse. At that point, I had no choice but to return to my own apartment and take care of the housework I’d been ignoring for the last two weeks. And once I got into the process of scrubbing the shower it was easier than I expected to ignore Nicky’s calls, not to mention try to forget the fact that Sebastian refused to look at me when he rejected me—again.
The entire situation was surreal. The man of my great fantasies had made all of them come true in a night of heart pounding, earth-shattering sex. But more than that, all of the things that he had claimed to be, all of the things he was famous for: his callousness, his selfishness, his boorishness, had been deflated—at least a little bit—by an act of chivalry. What in the hell was he thinking, anyway? It didn’t matter if he brought in a billion dollars a year for the firm. Sebastian couldn’t very well go around hitting his fellow senior associates and expect to stay on track for partner.