18. Michael
Chapter 18
Michael
F rom my vantage point behind my laptop, I glance at the woman buried in a pile of papers seated at the corner of my office.
I take in her carefully folded legs, wrapped close to her body, and the way she puts a curl of blond hair behind her ear to keep it from falling in her eyes as she studies every page with intent. At some point, she sighs and I sharply look away before she catches my staring.
“I hate this,” she says. “How do you do it?”
“How do I do what?” I ask, acting casual.
I know why I can’t take my eyes off Savannah—way past the fact that she has so much passion that it intrigues me, there is an air about her that makes me want to care. I want to listen to her tell me about her problems and help her find a thousand and one solutions to them.
It’s maddening, given the sort of person I am and the mask I have built over the years, but I can’t help it.
“This,” she untucks her legs, picking up papers and letting them rain down. “I know I do a lot of research, but I’m not the one who separates the evidence and puts together the speeches to convince a jury. I don’t know how to do this.”
Then she glares at me. “Why are you having me do this anyway? Aren’t you the attorney?”
I nod.
“Then?” She fixes me with a questioning look.
I don’t know if it is supposed to be intimidating but it sends me into a fit of laughter that only turns her expression into a deeply puzzled one.
“Why are you laughing?”
I shrug. “Because of the look on your face. I’m making you do this because I want you to have hope. I can tell you’re scared, and I don’t know how to ease your worry. So, I thought if you knew what was happening, you’d feel a bit better.”
Another thing I absolutely do not do.
My clients either trust me or they don’t. And if they don’t, I can’t work with them.
For Savannah, it is a need.
“Well,” she doesn’t look impressed, “I don’t feel any better. But,” she strokes her hair, “I am too tired to worry, so I guess it worked?”
I smile. “My work here is done.”
“I thought you were going to say something like Bingo!”
My eyebrows furrow slightly. “Bingo?”
“It’s the thing you say,” Savannah says, standing up to stretch her legs. “When something you assumed turns out to be right, your eyes light up, and in that smug tone of yours, you go, Bingo. ”
I hear the echo of her words, but I am lost in my thoughts while looking at her. Just looking and imagining.
With her jeans on and a button-down white shirt tied in a knot at her waist, Savannah is breathtaking in her simplicity. She exudes a carefree attitude that seems unlike her.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asks, but her tone is more curious than accusatory.
“You’re wearing something different. I wonder why I didn’t notice until now.”
She does a spin—more like a self-aware check, but it gives me a view that I indulge in for as long as she stands there.
“This?” she shrugs nonchalantly. “I figured I would do something different since my life is going through all these changes, you know? Why? Is something wrong?”
No. Everything is perfect.
Before I can stop myself, I beckon her with a nod of my chin. She looks puzzled but does it, nonetheless, coming to perch on the edge of my desk.
“What?”
I place my hand on either side of her body, leaning in until I can see her visibly swallow. I trace the sleeve of her shirt with one hand while the other gently cradles her waist.
“What is going on?” Savannah asks softly, but she doesn’t push me away. “Michael.”
“I’m going to kiss you,” I say with certainty, “Then I’m going to bend you over this desk and I am going to do some very wicked things to you.”
She smiles and very softly, I touch my lips to hers. I hear her take a breath and my fingers rest on the pulse of her neck, feeling it quicken. Her lips part gently, and I smile when her arms encircle my neck, coming to rest on my shoulders.
There is no hurry in the way we kiss, taking our time to explore each other. I temper my lust, knowing that we were greedy the first time, and this time, I want to memorize her scent, the sounds that come from her lips, and the curve of her body.
I nibble Savannah’s lips as she whispers my name, tracing the slope of her throat with my lips, then my tongue. My hands stray lower as I stand up, pulling her against my body. She responds in kind, grinding on the desk, pressing close until there is no space between us. Where her moans start, my deep-throated groans end.
When I pull away to rest my head against her forehead, she smiles.
“I thought you said you were going to do wicked things to me, with my body bent over your desk?”
I laugh. “Yeah, but I want to be patient and I also remembered that my door isn’t locked. I don’t need anyone walking in on us because I won’t stop.”
Her eyes widen in excitement at my words, and she hops off the desk.
“Off you go then.”
When I turn around, she’s perched on my desk, her jeans on the floor and the shirt completely unbuttoned. The satin of her underwear calls out to me and keeping my eyes trained on hers, I undo one button of my shirt after the other, getting to my pants when I reach her.
With a smooth move and a gasp from Savannah, I bend her over the desk, tracing her body with my eager hands.
Her breath quickens and I hear each intake of air as loud as the beating in my chest as need swells in me.
I cover her body with mine, cupping her face for a kiss.
“You taste…amazing,” I murmur against her lips. “Sinful, like a desire that a man can get accustomed to. Addicted to.”
“I could be your addiction,” she says with a sexy smile.
I nod, nudging her legs apart with one hand while my other loosens my belt and undoes my zipper. My pants fall to the floor.
“I should have stashed some condoms in my drawers, but I didn’t think this was going to happen,” I tell her.
Savannah turns her face to look at me, a sly grin playing on her lips.
“So, we’re playing a game of Russian roulette right now?”
Her explanation pleases me so much I grin.
“Yup. But the cartridge isn’t a bullet. It’s going to be how fast I can pull out when I’m buried in you,” I explain, touching the spot between her legs.
She whimpers, rocking her body back and forth against my hand.
I sweep my fingers over the satin panties, rubbing her with the fabric in place. It gets wet instantly as Savannah’s whimpers grow into loud moans and her hips buck faster.
My boxers become tighter as my erection strains against them, begging for a chance to make Savannah’s warmth its home.
Unable to keep going, I pull her panties down and thrust in, groaning when her walls close tight. She gasps, reaching back to hold me.
Placing my hands on her back, I thrust into her—hard, fast, with a reckless abandon that she matches feverishly, begging me for more.
Her muffled moans, my belabored groans, and the overwhelming deliriousness send Savannah over the edge with a shudder that racks through her body and leaves her body slack. I don’t stop though, even as her walls convulse around me and a succession of orgasms roll through her.
I barely have the time to pull out, letting everything out on her back as a roaring, numbing orgasm takes over.
“ Fuck.” She sighs.
“Fuck is right.” I smile, “but you’ve got to wait a minute. Let me deal with this.”
She makes a sound of agreement.
“As long as we’re not making babies, anything is fine by me.”
My cock twitches at the thought of doing more to her but that will have to wait for another time as I head for the pack of tissues in my cabinet.