Objection (6 page)

Placing my hand on
my chest, I give a nervous laugh. “Geez… you about gave
me a heart attack.”

Giving me an
apologetic smile, he walks into my office and sits down across from
my desk. “Sorry. I was walking by and saw you… thought
I’d say hello.”

I shoot him a jaunty
wave. “Hello.”

His eyes crinkle,
and he rewards me with a dimpled smile. “So… how are you
settling in?”

“Good.
Everyone’s been really nice and helpful.” I hold up the
article I’m reading. “I decided to figure out what the
hell a biomechanical engineer is… a little light Saturday
reading.”

Amusement is all
over his face when he nods at me. “I have some good articles
for you to read. I’ll email them over to you.”

“Great,”
I say enthusiastically, but the thought of reading more about it
makes my stomach hurt. I suck at this sort of stuff.

“How long have
you been here?”

Glancing at my
watch, I tell him, “Oh… only a little over seven hours.
How about you?”

“A few hours.
I have depositions next week in Chicago in a complex litigation case
I have to get ready for.”

I sigh…
because I wish I were the type of lawyer that could have cases where
I had to prep for depositions. Instead, I fall under Lorraine’s
whip to do her shit work and spend the remainder of my time pondering
the merits of the Jackson case, without having the slightest idea of
how to even make said case meritorious.

“What’s
with the long-suffering sigh?” Matt asks.

“Nothing,”
I say, my voice slightly gloomy as I fiddle with the papers on my
desk. “I just can’t wait for the day when I can be a real
litigator and handle depositions, go to court hearings, and make
arguments to a jury.”

“That takes
time,” Matt says with a serious voice. “But… how
about you sit in on these depositions with me next week, watch how
they’re handled, and I’ll have you handle some smaller
ones for me after that?”

My head snaps up.
“Really? I mean, you don’t even know what type of lawyer
I am.”

“True enough,”
he says. “But there’s only one way to find out.”

I’m giddy with
excitement as I lean forward in my chair. “Thank you, Mr.
Connover… I mean, Matt. Or Mr. Connover if that works for you.
But just… thank you!”

Matt stands from his
chair, walks to the door, and grimaces at me. “It’s just
Matt, okay? God knows I know you well enough for us to be on a
first-name basis.”

I go still all over
because this is the first mention of our intimate knowledge of each
other… since Matt made it clear the other day that it was
something we should forget. I know I haven’t forgotten. In
fact, those images in my mind of all the carnal things we did to each
other, have kept me warm company during the nights.

Matt nods at me
stiffly and quickly changes the subject. “Have you hired an
accident reconstructionist on the speed issue in the Jackson case?”

“No. I wasn’t
sure where to start with that.”

Glancing at his
watch and furrowing his brows, Matt walks back to my desk. “I
have to get back to work but show me the accident report really
quick, and I’ll direct you where to go.”

Standing up from my
desk, I walk to the opposite side so that I can grab one of the
binders from my shelf. Matt’s in the way, so I murmur an
‘excuse me,’ and he steps back to let me pass.

But apparently, not
far enough.

As I try to slide by
him, my butt grazes up against his crotch… just barely…
really, just the
tiniest
whisper.

It’s still
enough of a touch that shock waves zing through my body and I hear
Matt hiss under his breath, even as he takes a quick step back.

I turn quickly and
blurt out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Matt’s lips
are set in a distasteful line, and he’s glaring daggers at me.
I suppose in an effort to cool his anger, he closes his eyes briefly
and takes a deep breath. As his warm breath blows out over those sexy
lips of his, his eyes slowly open, and now the anger is gone.

Instead, there is
nothing but molten heat and lust in his gaze, which promptly causes
my knees to start to shake.

Matt takes one step
closer to me, and a quick glance down shows me that both of his hands
are curled into fists.

He’s clearly
fighting for control, but I’m thinking it’s a losing
battle.

“I thought I
could work in close proximity to you and be able to keep my hands to
myself,” he muses as he pins me with the intensity of his eyes.
“Guess I was fucking lying to myself.”

I’m frozen in
place. I have no clue what to do.

Yes, I have
hormones, pheromones, and even just good old, run-of-the-mill moans
stuck in the back of my throat, which are on the verge of busting
loose. My mind whirls… what did Matt mean by that statement?

Do I slap him or
jump him?

We stare at each
other… his eyes blazing an inferno of desire, mine probably
reflecting the “deer in the headlights” look.

Swallowing hard, I
say, “I think—”

Matt lunges at me,
catching me with one arm around my waist and the other swiping across
my desk, sending binders, papers, folders, pens, a tape dispenser, a
stapler, two legal pads and a box of paper clips flying to the floor.
“Don’t say a fucking word, McKayla. Just don’t.”

Pushing one of his
rock hard thighs in between my legs, he bends me back onto my desk
and settles against me, raising both hands now to cup my face. My
heart is on the verge of exploding in my chest, and only two things
fill my mind.

First
, please,
please, please kiss me, Matt.

Second
, please,
please, please don’t let me have a heart attack before he does.

I’m saved on
both concerns as Matt pours lust, desire, anger, and passion into a
kiss that causes my toes to curl against the flip-flops, which are
barely clinging to my feet after I was practically thrown onto my
desk.

My tongue is shy at
first, but it only takes Matt one tiny rock of his hips against mine,
and then it’s on.

We kiss like we
never kissed on that one night we spent together. It is filled with
not only yearning, but with a bit of frustration and shame that we
have no control over our actions.

This is wrong…
we
both
know it.

Yet he hums with
approval when I reach my hand down between us and give him a light
stroke, and I practically convulse when one of his hands cup my
breast.

For a brief moment,
Matt seems to come to his senses and stills against me. He rises up
from my mouth and stares at me deeply, worry creasing his forehead.
He even curses just the way I’ve come to appreciate about him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“We don’t
have to—” I start to say, but he growls at me so I snap
my mouth shut.

He stares at me for
just a moment more, and then he abruptly stands up. I think it’s
over, that reality has reappeared, and disappointment fills me.

That lasts just a
flicker of a moment because fantasy land returns as Matt starts
stripping me of my clothes.

In less than fifteen
seconds, he has me completely naked and splayed out on my desk in
front of him. He looks down at me, eyes roaming, and he actually
licks his lips like he’s getting ready to gorge himself.

Yes, I’m
ringing the dinner bell… bring it on.

I expect Matt to
undo his pants and mount up, but he surprises me when he pulls one of
my chairs closer to the desk and sits down. He takes my legs, spreads
them outward, and tugs me to the edge of the desk, throwing said legs
rather haphazardly over his shoulders.

Pleasure and thrills
blanket my body as I realize that he’s settling in to do me
right. His face dives down, and I actually grunt… yes, grunt…
at first contact. I then bite down hard on my tongue so I’m not
screaming the rafters down.

I’m delirious
with pleasure as Matt works my body to his liking. He uses touch and
sound to give me the ultimate experience. Touch meaning fingers and
tongue, and yes, even his chin, which has me bucking off the desk.
Sound meaning the dirty, dirty things he whispers to me as he causes
a rollercoaster of an orgasm to go rushing up my spine. I have to
slap my hand over my mouth not to scream, and Matt looks up at me
with pure male satisfaction.

It took him just
under two minutes to send me to Heaven.

He’s just that
fucking good.

Not wasting any
time, Matt undoes his belt and practically rips his jeans open,
revealing what I’m betting is his most prized possession, and
if in another reality we were a real couple, it would definitely be
my most prized possession. Stepping between my legs, he leans his
body over me and, in one practiced and very sexy-suave move, slams
his way home to the hilt. Thank goodness my hand is still clasped
over my mouth, or I would have shouted Matt’s name in
reverence.

Hips pumping hard,
my desk shaking, Matt looks up at me and slowly removes my hand from
over my mouth.

“Need to kiss
you,” he groans after a particularly hard surge into me.

“Yes,” I
agree.

“So fucking
sexy,” he murmurs.

“You feel so
good.”

“Could do this
all day… all night.”

“Word,”
I sing out, and then let out a low moan when his pelvis grinds into
mine.

His mouth finally
slams onto my lips, and he’s kissing me with confidence, mating
his tongue with mine while he never loses a single beat on his
strokes.

Higher and higher,
Matt takes both of us. It’s quick, hard, and rough, but the
feelings he evokes inside of me are warm and soft, despite the
frenzied nature of what we’re doing.

I know I should be
worried that someone will walk by, and I know I should fret over the
fact that my boss is banging me on my desk, and yes, I should even
have a slight bit of concern that this is opening up a whole can of
worms that are going to leave a nasty, slimy trail all over my
employment here.

But as my second
orgasm builds, and Matt pulls away from my lips so he can stare at me
while we both start to fracture, the only thing I can even care about
right now is that
yes
… I’m so happy this
happened.

Yes, my body has
betrayed every shred of common sense I use to possess.

We both shudder
hard, muscles tensing and relaxing. Our breathing starts to even out,
and eventually Matt rises up and pulls out of me.

After tucking
himself back in and zipping his pants, Matt gallantly grabs a box of
tissues that are sitting on a small table and helps me to clean up. I
get dressed, and the silence that fills the room is oppressive.

When I tuck my shirt
back into my jeans, Matt reaches up and smoothes a hand over my hair.
The touch is soft… intimate. It makes me want to curl up into
him and purr.

Then he brings me
back to reality.

“This was
wrong, McKayla. It was my fault, and I won’t let it happen
again.”

Matt turns to walk
out of my office, and I let him.

For only a second,
and then I jump forward, grabbing his wrist. “Wait a minute. I
don’t understand.”

He stops and turns
toward me, looking down at my hand holding on to him. I release it
and step back.

“What’s
to understand?” he asks in frustration. “This is wrong…
I’m your boss.”

“It’s
only wrong if the sex influences how you treat me,” I point
out.

“And what if I
treat you like shit because it makes me angry to have this attraction
to you? What if I give you the shittiest cases, and I mock you in
front of your colleagues?”

Grinning over the
concept, I tell him, “Then I’ll sue you for sexual
harassment.”

Apparently, I’m
not as funny as I think I am because Matt’s gaze takes on a
hint of danger and he steps into me, practically touching his nose to
mine. “I’d chew you up and spit you out, little girl.
You’d never be a match for me in court.”