Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
JASPER
Holy shit. Best. Summer. Ever.
A great summer job that might lead to something bigger?
Amazing sex with a hot as hell older guy?
Either of those things might be enough to make this summer memorable, but together? Together they make it the best I have ever known.
If this is adulting, sign me up.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all play and no work.
We are working our asses off as this case ramps up the closer we get to the trial date. But, in the weeks since we started our summer fling, I’ve stayed at Marsh’s almost every night.
My daily routine is that Marsh, Penny, and I spend long hours at the office in trial prep. A row of white binders sit on the desk, each with tabs and indexes to help Marsh coordinate the flow of trial.
I have the same thing, digitally, on my tablet in an electronic notebook.
Today, I’m driving to Trenton, the small town where the events of the case took place and where the trial will be held. It’s a nice distraction from how much my mind wants to dwell on Marsh. And his hands. And voice. And sex.
The approaching trial date has us all keyed up, and for some reason, sex seems to be the distraction we both want.
He’s an amazing man, that’s for sure. Keith was a lucky guy.
The road to Trenton is empty. There are few towns in the foothills, where the land looks more like Kansas than Colorado. My mind wanders easily in this open space.
I think about standing in Marsh’s living room in nothing but a pair of shorts a few days ago when he came up behind me, pulling me to him. His hands ran up the back of my legs, grabbing by ass.
“Fucking cake,” he mumbled in my neck as he manhandled me upstairs to bed, putting me on my hands and knees. He had groped and stroked my ass while removing my clothes until I was begging for something more. Then, naked, he had rimmed me until the begging became sobs. He had brought me off with his fingers and tongue in my ass, and I almost came untouched. Then he pushed me down and came on my hole.
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought. It was filthy, sexy, and amazing.
I’m used to blowing a guy or an occasional rough fuck, but Marsh continues to blow my mind in an entirely new way.
I sing along to a playlist I haven’t queued up in ages on the rest of the drive.
But, I’m here to do a job. So, I cheerfully hand over the subpoenas to the clerk of court for her to issue back to me for our witnesses. I try to make a good impression on everyone I see and meet, knowing it will reflect on Marsh.
One of Professor Rutherford’s first lessons in our trial practice class was that you can never be too nice or polite to the courthouse staff. It matters.
I also smile through a brain-numbing show of the court evidence presentation equipment. The equipment is so outdated it is the same as what I used for presentations in high school, but at least I know how it works.
By midday I’ve accomplished all my tasks for the case, but I place the paperwork in my car and walk across the courthouse square to the diner that sits at one corner. I want to get a feel for the town, some local flavor I guess. I keep a pleasant smile affixed to my face, careful of my manners like my grandmother was watching.
This is the kind of small town where visitors are noticed, and absolutely talked about.
The door to the diner doesn’t make a sound, but every head in the lunch crowd turns toward me when I walk in. There is no sign guiding whether I should be seated or to wait, and the older servers behind the counter wait in a lengthy silence before finally signaling me toward a seat at that same counter.
The talk finally resumes as I peruse the menu, quickly deciding what to order.
I try for a “what’s the special?” Or “what do you recommend?” But I am met with a blank stare as if I am speaking a foreign language.
The server says nothing, doesn’t even look me in the eye. The other customers also give off so much ice it feels glacial.
I pick up the sandwich that is set in front of me, determined not to be aloof on my phone, nor to rush through it. I tip generously and still feel the eyes of the patrons on me as I leave.
Walking back to where I parked my car at the town square, I can still feel eyes on me. I pause for a moment, keenly aware the townspeople are watching as I slide in the car.
Turning it on, I see the notification on my control panel that my passenger door is ajar. I take a deep breath. No one has ridden with me today and it was closed—no alerts—the entire drive here. I hadn’t opened it when stowed my things before heading to the diner.
I look to the seat next to me, opening the padfolio where I placed the paperwork from the courthouse and sure enough, the subpoenas are gone.
My hands shake a bit as I send out at text to Marsh.
Come straight to the office , he replies. And be careful.