JAMESON
Why the hell didn’t I see this shit before?
I should’ve known from the moment her crazy ass jumped into my car and lied to whoever she was talking to on the phone that she deserved to be persona non grata.
That whatever attraction we had for each other would end in tears.
Hers, not mine.
I’m usually willing to look past someone’s secrets since no one is perfect, but the virgin shit is a bridge too fucking far and it drives my entire list off a cliff.
Twenty years old.
College student.
Very impressive liar. (I actually admire that.)
Virgin.
VIRGIN.
On the one hand, I’m glad she told me about her virginity.
On the other, if I’d gone through with it, it would’ve been the first time I’d had sex in months. But then she was bound to get emotional, attached, and needy, and I didn’t have time for that.
Ever.
Sighing, I flip through a docket for one of my longest ongoing cases and click a pen.
When I’m halfway through underlining the newest motions, my phone sounds with a new text message.
Scarlett
Hey...
I haven’t heard from you this week...
Are you ignoring me?
Yes.
I delete her text message and continue working.
Scarlett
I’ve called you three times and I know you’re reading my texts.
Could you at least answer?
No.
Two weeks pass without another text or call from Scarlett, and I trust that to mean she’s let it go and that she’ll disappear without another word.
I’m just waiting on my brain to get the memo and stop slipping her into my daydreams and shower streams every possible moment.
And I have no idea why a part of me is loathing the thought of her being with someone else.
Some other guy fucking her first…
“I’m heading home early tonight.” Rachel pokes her head through my door. “See you tomorrow.”
“It’s only six o’clock, Rachel.”
“Hence the word ‘early.’” She pulls on a pair of shades. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
“Early as well?”
“Ha! No.” She laughs and disappears down the hallway.
I return to my reading and hear a thumping sound.
Ignoring it, I flip the page, but it becomes louder with each passing second.
Looking up, I spot Scarlett knocking her fist against my doorway.
“I could’ve sworn I had you reassigned to another building...” I say.
“I’m filling in for someone who called in.” She glares at me. “I heard you’re also reconsidering the clerical job you offered me here?”
“Yes, but that’s not final, and whatever happens, it’s not personal.”
“Bullshit.” She hisses.
“Scarlett...” I look her up and down out of habit, hating the fact that even dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she turns me on within half a second.
Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! My phone sounds, and I pick it up.
“Hold on,” I say to Scarlett, answering it. “Hello?”
“It’s me, asshole.” Scarlett’s voice comes through the speaker, and I hang up as her face reddens. “So, you are ignoring me.”
“Obviously.”
“For what reason, Jameson?”
“Because I don’t like prolonged entanglements.” I try to focus on my folder again. “And the risk of getting into one—especially given your potential emotions—is not appealing to me.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m some type of business asset.”
“You’d be a business ‘loss,’ Scarlett,” I say. “Not an asset. I can’t afford you getting attached to me, or thinking that sex with me would actually mean anything other than that.”
“You honestly think your cock is that powerful?”
“This conversation was over weeks ago, Scarlett.”
“Well, it can’t possibly be because no woman has ever called your line while we’re talking, showed up to see you, or even texted you about wanting a second round,” she hisses. “I would know since I just checked the visitor and phone logs downstairs, so that means you’re full of shit.”
I look over at her again, flexing my fingers.
“Is that all, Scarlett?” I can feel a vein in my neck swelling. “Can we return to being strangers now?”
“As long as you can admit that you abandoned me because you’re scared of dating a virgin.”
“I’m not scared of shit,” I hiss. “And last I checked, we weren’t ‘dating,’ so I couldn’t have abandoned you.”
“The words you’re looking for are ‘I’m sorry,’ and ‘I think you’re better off finding someone who values you for a long-term relationship.’”
“You must have lost your hearing and your brain on your way to work this morning...” I stand up from the chair and slowly stroll over to her.
I stop right in front of her—too far for me to touch, but close enough for me to see the fury burning in her irises.
“Me discovering that you’re a virgin was you saving me from making a mistake.” I keep my voice firm. “So, thank you, Scarlett. Thank you for ensuring that the only thing we’ll ever discuss is how clean the floors in my firm look.”
Her bottom lip quivers, and I can tell she’s trying to interrupt, but she’s not fast enough.
“Since I finally closed out your unfortunate loan situation today and I’ll never ask for anything in return—” I pause on that half-truth. “I think this makes us more than even in the favors department. Correct?”
“No.”
“What else do I owe you then?” I arch a brow. “Besides an invoice for wasting my time?”
“Fuck you, Jameson.”
“I was willing to, but you ruined that... Remember?”
“I hate that I ever met you,” she says, stepping back. “You’re my biggest disappointment.”
“Maybe we should’ve had sex, then.” I glare at her. “I can guarantee you would’ve never said that afterwards.”
I shut my door and lock it before she can say anything else, before she can notice that my cock is stiff in my pants and that she still has an effect on me.
FULL DISCLOSURE (N.):
THE NEED IN BUSINESS TRANSACTIONS TO TELL THE "WHOLE TRUTH" ABOUT ANY MATTER WHICH THE OTHER PARTY SHOULD KNOW IN DECIDING TO BUY OR CONTRACT.
SCARLETT
Refusing to let a single tear fall from my eyes, I press my ID against the dorm building’s keypad and wait for the beep.
Pushing the doors open, I walk through the lobby—stopping dead in my tracks at the sight of hundreds of turquoise and white balloons kissing the ceiling.
What the...
“Happy Birthday, Scarlett!” My friend Jeneva jumps from behind the couch with a glitter cannon.
My other theater friends pop up from all over, covering me in silly string and confetti.
“You’re finally twenty-one!” “It’s your mother-fucking birthday!” “Shots! Shots! Shots!”
Their cheers fill the room, and tears prick my eyes.
I’d nearly forgotten what today was.
“Awwww! She’s about to cry, you guys!” Jeneva pulls me into a hug. “Bring out the cake!”
Laura, the newest belle of the stage—the girl who’s living the life I so desperately want—rolls a table closer. On top sits a pink and white sheet cake that doesn’t hold a written birthday wish.
Instead, it bears a golden cursive, “Future Award-Winning Actress, Scarlett Winters.”
Jeneva sticks a “legal as fuck” candle at its center, and I hate that the word ‘legal’ instantly triggers the thought of Jameson.
FUCK HIM.
“Okay.” Jeneva claps. “Make a wish and blow it out!”
For a moment, I consider asking for Jameson to get struck by a bus, but he’s not worth wasting a wish on.
Shutting my eyes, I think hard on what I really want.
I wish for a starring role on Broadway within a year. Please, within a year...
I blow out the candles to cheers and applause, and within seconds, music is blasting and someone is passing out vodka shots.
Even though I’m the definition of a lightweight, I grab two and quickly down them. Then I grab another, and another, until my brain stops serving me thoughts of Jameson.
Until the only thing I can think about is my birthday.
I carry what’s left of my cake up to my room a little after ten.
A stack of forwarded letters from Harvard are waiting for me, along with a small white gift box that was rerouted from my parents.
Thank God forwarding addresses don’t come with tracking...
As usual, I tear the mail to pieces and throw it away. I run my fingers along the gift box’s edges, but I don’t have to open it to know what’s inside.
It’s a new golden watch to mark a new year, a not-so-subtle reminder that the clock is ticking ever closer to my twenty-fifth birthday. The date when my life will no longer belong to me.
“Family over everything, even your job, even your dreams...”
I sigh and toss it into a drawer.
Then I change into an oversized sweatshirt and socks to get as comfortable as possible.
Opening my small fridge, I pull out a bottle of champagne and drink straight from its neck. Then I stab at a piece of cake, committed to gorging myself until I can’t take any more.
I manage to stuff down two slices when a knock sounds at my door.
Assuming it’s someone who missed out on getting a piece, I cut a slice and carry it to the door.
My smile immediately falls when I open it.
It’s not a friend at all.
It’s Jameson.
Still wearing the same black suit I saw him in earlier. Unfortunately, he remains sexy as fuck, but he’s clenching his jaw and looking as if he’s the one who has the right to be upset.
“You must be lost, sir,” I say. “This is the non-asshole floor of the dormitory. You might need to take the elevator down to Hell.”
“I’m glad you brought up the fact that you live in a goddamn dorm,” he says. “Yet another secret you failed to disclose to me.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything—especially now.” My voice cracks. “Go away so I can enjoy what’s left of my birthday in peace.”
“I came to give you a present,” he says. “I meant to give it to you days ago, before your previous secret.”
“You can keep it.” I hiss. “Give it to someone who actually wants something from you.”
I start to slam the door shut, but he wedges his foot between the frame.
“I came here to talk to you, Scarlett,” he says, his voice low. “Let me in, so we can talk...”
“No. I think you’ve said more than enough.”
“Trust me, I haven’t.”
“Fine.” I cross my arms. “Say whatever you have to say out there in the hallway.”
“For all your friends to hear?”
“I’m sure they’ve heard apologies from douchebags before.” I shrug. “You won’t be saying anything new.”
“Do they know you were seconds away from getting pussy eaten while you were supposed to be working a few weeks ago?”
I gasp and pull him inside, and he shuts the door.
“Two minutes,” I say. “Spit it out.”
He doesn’t say a word.
Instead, he looks around my small room before pulling a blue box from his pocket. Walking past me, he sets it on the windowsill and moves toward my desk, invading my space without permission.
“Tick tock, Jameson,” I say as he picks up one of my audition scripts. “I’m going out with my friends in just a minute.”
“Wearing that?” He arches a brow as he looks over my baggy sweatshirt.
“Yes.”
“Okay, Scarlett...” He moves closer to me. “You and I have a huge problem, and I would like us to fix it.”
“Then leave. Problem solved.”
“I told you I don’t mind lies,” he says, ignoring my comment. “That’s not the issue. It’s who you’re performing them for.”
“You’re contradicting yourself...”
“We don’t have to know everything about each other to fuck,” he says, “but I do need to know something else...”
“I told you that I no longer—” My sentence ends against his mouth, and before I can react, he bites down hard on my bottom lip.
“Ahhh...” I moan, and he slowly releases me and saves me from uttering another lie.
“Like I was saying,” he says, tilting my chin up with his fingertips. “I need to know something.”
I nod. I can’t get a word to fall from my lips.
“What the hell do you want from me?” He hisses. “What the fuck are you expecting from this?”
I don’t answer because I don’t want to say.
Because I doubt it’s possible for me to get it.
“Scarlett...” He looks into my eyes. “What do you want?”
“I want...” I manage. “I want…”
“Yes?”
“To be your only one.”
He blinks. “We just met.”
“I’m answering your question,” I say. “That’s what I want...”
“Hmmm.” He stares at me for several seconds. “And if that’s not what I want?”
“Then I’ll accept that and never reach out to you again.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He steps back and turns away from me, slowly walking to the door.
My heart pangs with every step—as if this man actually means something to me—as if there’s something deeper that I’m about to lose.
Jameson reaches the door, and before I can say anything, he locks it.
Then he turns around and stares at me.
“Open your birthday present.” He commands.
“Now?”
“Yes,” he says. “Now.”
I walk over to where he’s placed it and untie the small ribbon. Removing its top, I suck in a breath at the sight of a stunning diamond necklace with a hazel-colored crown charm hanging at its center.
“Montana sapphire?” I ask.
“Yes,” Jameson says, moving closer. “Flip it over.”
I oblige, and see words etched onto its back.
“Queen of making shit too damn difficult.”
I hold back a laugh because I’m still mad at him.
“Thank you, Jameson,” I say. “This was a very thoughtful birthday gift.”
“I’m glad you like it…” He lifts the necklace from the box and then turns me toward my mirror. “Let me put it on you.”
I lift up my hair and watch him through the glass. The gem settles gently on my skin, and I press a finger against the chain.
“Now,” he says, pressing his mouth against the shell of my ear. “You’re going to take this T-shirt and whatever else you’re wearing underneath, and I’m going to fuck you in just your necklace.”
As if he can tell I was about to gasp, he gently bites my ear, whispering, “Take this shit off…”
I slide a hand between my legs and take off my panties first.
He slides his free hand under my shirt, unclasping my strapless bra and it falls to the floor.
“The T-shirt,” he demands, and I grab the hem and pull it over my head.
I’m stark naked in front of the mirror now, my body on full display for him. Keeping his eyes on mine through the glass, he takes off his blazer and tosses it to the floor.
The buttons come undone on his shirt within seconds, and he sets his wallet on the edge of my desk before stepping out of his pants.
“Is this what you want?” He pushes up against me, brushing his hardened cock against my back. “To be fucked for your first time?”
“Yes…” I nod.
He slaps my ass before spinning me around to face him.
“Get it then.” He glances at the condoms peeking out from his wallet, silently commanding me to take it out.
I grab one and tear it open, and he stares into my eyes as he rubs his cock up and down.
I blush at the sight of his length, and slowly place the condom over his top, sliding it inch by inch.
He suddenly pulls me against his chest, kissing me harder than ever, not giving me a chance to breathe.
“Are you sure, Scarlett?” He whispers harshly. “Because once I start fucking you, I will not stop.”
“Yes…”
“Good.” He spins me toward the mirror again and wedges a foot between my legs.
“Grab onto that chair and bend over for me…”
I do as he says, and he slowly slides into me, inch by thick inch.
“Ahhhh…” He kisses my shoulder with every move he makes, whispering, “you’re so fucking tight for me… Just for me…” against my skin.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror when he’s halfway buried deep—along with a faint hint of Jameson’s smile.
“Ahhhh.” I cry out when he’s completely inside me, when I feel so full and complete.
I lean back, attempting to adjust to his length, but he drags a hand up to my neck.
“Did I tell you to move?”
“No…”
“Then don’t…” He suddenly pulls out of me and thrusts back in, serving me a mix of pleasure and pain.
“Oh my God...” I cry out after two strokes, three, and have to grip onto the chair even harder.
“Tell me you’ll never let anyone fuck this pussy but me…” he whispers.
“Yes…”
“Say it.”
“I’ll never let—” I moan and his strokes get longer, as one of his hands caresses my breast. “I’ll never let anyone fuck this pussy but you.”
“So, it’s mine?”
“Yes.”
“Say it, Scarlett.” He kisses the back of my neck. “Tell me your pussy is mine.”
“It’s yours, James…”
“Close enough.” He pounds into me faster, harder, and our eyes meet in the mirror as he fucks me.
The necklace bobs against my neck, the only witness in the room.
“Ohhh God…” I see him pressing his thumb against my clit, swirling it in circles and keeping two different rhythms at the same time.
“I…” I can feel pressure building between my thighs, feel my body nearing the edge of something new, and before I know it, I’m screaming his name and his hand is muffling my mouth.
I can’t help but shut my eyes, and I’m pretty sure he has to hold me up to keep me from collapsing.
Oh my God…
When I come to, I’m lying back against my mattress, and Jameson is sitting butt-naked in my chair, his cock still rock hard.
“Come here.” He grabs my hands and pulls me closer until I’m between his legs.
Grabbing me by my waist, he gently lifts me up until my ass is against the edge of the desk.
“Grab onto your bookshelf.”
I obey and watch as he pulls on another condom. Then he slides the chair closer and positions my pussy right over his cock.
“Slide down and take all of it...” he commands.
I place my hands on his shoulders and straddle his lap, slowly lowering myself onto his cock.
His eyes remain on mine, and I gasp with every inch of him I take.
When he’s completely inside me, he holds onto my hips and moves me. Slowly, then faster.
Then he whispers, “Keep going like that…”
I nod and move my hips, enjoying every inch of his ride, but the pressure between my thighs is building up all over again.
Too fast….
Leaning forward, he sucks my nipple into his mouth, keeping his other hand pressed firmly against my back.
I come apart against him, gasping and struggling for air as he holds me taut.
He holds me still and stiffens, and we remain entwined for what feels like hours.
“So…” I whisper. “This means we’re talking again?”
“We’re not talking about anything for the rest of the night.” He kisses me. “Get off my cock and then get on your knees…”
CONFESSION (N.):
THE STATEMENT OF ONE CHARGED WITH A CRIME THAT HE/SHE COMMITTED THE CRIME.
Iwake up under a bright pink banner that reads “To Be Or Not to Be.” There are pictures of Scarlett tacked on the wall to my left, and it takes me far too many seconds to realize I spent the night at her place.
In her goddamn dorm room...
Our clothes are strewn all over her floor, and the top of her trash can is filled with foil packets—clear-cut evidence of just how many times we failed to stick to “one more time...”
Slowly sitting up, I rub my temples and let out a deep sigh.
If I possessed any sense, I would get dressed, leave her a “thanks for a good time” note, and block her from my phone and my firm for the rest of my life.
Keyword: If...
I stand up from the bed, and Scarlett immediately rolls over.
“You’re leaving me?” she whispers, and I know that she’s implying two things with that question.
I stare at her, unsure of what the hell I’m supposed to say, where the hell we’re supposed to go after this.
“We don’t have to talk about this right now,” I say.
“Ever or just right now?”
“Both...”
“So, you’re gone for good?” she presses. “You could at least tell me that.”
“No. I’m not.” I push strands of hair away from her forehead and stare into her eyes.
Before I can ask her what her plans are for today, my cell phone vibrates against her desk.
“Give me a second,” I say, walking over to answer the unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Mr. Tate,” the voice belongs to R.L., one of my biggest and most complicated clients. And it instantly reminds me of what I’m supposed to be doing, what I’m supposed to be focused on.
“Am I catching you at a bad time this morning?” he asks.
“I’m shocked you even asked,” I say, stepping back toward Scarlett’s mirror. “You don’t usually care about anyone but yourself.”
“That’s fair,” he says. “Are you still undefeated in court these days?”
“You wouldn’t be calling me if I wasn’t.”
“So, there’s no need for small talk.” He lets out a small laugh. “Some of my team members have unfortunately found themselves in some small trouble lately, and I need your help.”
“How bad is it?”
“Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.”
“How fucking bad is it?” I repeat. “Rate it on a scale of one to ten.”
“Two hundred.”
“Anything violent?”
“Three of the thirty charges,” he says. “And they’re allegedly violent. There’s no such thing as a crime without a conviction, right?”
He throws out my line and doesn’t give me a chance to reel him in.
“The official arraignments take place Thursday,” he says, “but I’m not expecting you to show up for that. I just need you to take over from our basic legal team right after, if you’re interested in adding another near-impossible win to your record...”
“I’ll consider it,” I say, knowing that it’ll probably be a yes. “You’ll need to meet me at my firm so we can go over the terms.”
“I’ve already booked a flight,” he says it like it’s a done deal. “Thank you very much for your consideration, Mr. Tate.”
I don’t say “You’re welcome.”
I never do when it comes to clients like him.
Instead, I end the call and send Rachel a text.
Client R.L. is back. Assemble my top five researchers and clear out my Thursday.
Rachel
Right away.
Scarlett slowly sits up, swinging her legs off the side.
Still naked, she watches me pull on my briefs and pants. Picking up my shirt, I stare back at her as I slowly button it.
“Here...” Scarlett stands up and holds out my watch.
Without thinking, I press a hand against her left breast, gently rolling her nipple between my fingers.
A soft moan leaves her lips, and before I know it, I’m lifting her up and spreading her legs open on her mattress, devouring her pussy for breakfast.
I don’t muffle her screams this time as she grabs my hair; I relish the sound of her saying my name.
“Okay, Scarlett...” I wait until she’s stopped shaking. “We don’t need to talk or see each other again for at least a week.”
“What?” Her eyes widen. “Why?”
“Because I have to fucking work, and you’re a very tempting distraction.”
“But how is that?—”
“Shhh.” I press a finger against her lips. “I need one week away from you—this week in particular. I’m sure you have some things to catch up on, right?”
She looks at the calendar on her wall. “So, we can talk about things Friday?”
“Right at midnight, if you like,” I say, stepping back. “But not a second before then. Can you agree to that?”
“Yes.” She nods. “I can agree to that.”
“Thank you.” I almost lean forward to kiss her, but I show restraint. I check to make sure I have my wallet and keys, and then I head to her door.
“Wait,” she says. “One last thing.”
“Yes?” I look over my shoulder.
“I’m glad you were my first...”
I still have no idea what to say to that, so I take one last look at her—watching her blush all over—and then I finally leave.
“Several counts of money laundering, witness intimidation, bribery, and a few sweet doses of assault for our beloved Client W—a.k.a. Ruthless Lucas!” Rachel slams a stack of files on my desk. “Allegedly.”
“Thank you, Rachel.”
“Always a pleasure.” She smiles. “Do you want some coffee while you draw up everything?”
“No.” I click my pen. “I’d rather you answer a question instead.”
“I’m listening.”
“If you were me?—”
She snorts before I can finish. “Sorry. Keep going...”
“If you were me, how many wins would be enough for you to finally feel like you’ve won and you can live a normal life?”
Her smile dissolves.
“What?” I ask. “Bad question?”
“Yes, because you’re not normal.” She pauses. “You never have been, and I don’t really know why, but... you can’t have what everyone else has.”
“What if I wanted to start the game over and try?”
“Then the only way you’d be able to stop pursuing winning is if you finally lost...”
Silence.
“Thank you, Rachel.”
She nods and leaves the room, and within minutes of poring through the newest set of client files, I can feel exactly what she means.
My thoughts race with arguments and loopholes, with the exact lines I’ll utter at every possible phase of these charges, and I’m suddenly anxious about getting back into the courtroom.
As I’m highlighting lines in a police interview, the door opens and Scarlett steps inside wearing a deep blue sweater dress and tights.
“Hey.” She smiles at me. “Do you have a minute?”
“No.” I stand up and walk over to her. “Not until our deadline is up.”
“I don’t think I can wait until then.”
“We literally agreed on this.” I pull her flush against my chest and press a kiss to her lips. “You’re not supposed to exist until Friday. That’s tomorrow...”
“I know, but I...” Her eyes are filled with worry. “I need to tell you something.”
“Not right now, you don’t.” I gently let her go. “You’ve hit your surprise limit with me for quite some time.”
“It’s really important, Jameson.”
“It’ll have to wait until after my meeting,” I say. “It’s one of my biggest clients.”
“You have a meeting today?”
“Yes.” I arch a brow. “Obviously. I’ll call you after it’s over.”
An intern suddenly rushes into the room, her face pale, confirming that the client is here.
“We’ll talk later,” I say to Scarlett. “I really need to go.”
The door on the other side swings open, and Lucas walks in wearing his usual impeccable black suit.
“Good morning, Lucas,” I say to him. “If you give me five seconds?—”
“Scarlett?” Lucas cuts me off, squinting at Scarlett. “I thought you had midterms this week. What the hell are you doing here in New York?”
“I...” Her cheeks redden. “I heard you were coming into town, so I wanted to surprise you... Surprise.”
“I don’t recall telling you I was coming or where I’d be, Scarlett,” Lucas says.
“Antonio and Ryan let it slip last week when I called,” she says. “I hope you’ll have enough time to get lunch.”
“You two know each other?” I look between them, confused as to how their worlds could ever possibly collide.
“Yes, I know her very well.” Lucas steps closer to us. “She’s my daughter.”
—end of episode 1?—
Jameson & Scarlett’s story continues in Contempt of Court!
Preorder now.
In the meantime, flip the page for the start of my first legal trilogy, Reasonable Doubt, and one-click to read the entire story.