She picked up a few of the files and placed them back into their respective boxes.
“You really want this.”
“I thought I already made that clear?” She frowned.
“You did,” I nodded. “I just haven’t seen this side of you yet. It’s interesting.”
“We weren’t together that long, so you don’t really know me.”
“If you say so.”
She shot daggers at me with her eyes.
“What are you going to do about this case?” she changed the subject.
I shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe look for some sort of plea deal. The woman shot herself in the foot.”
“You’re lying.”
“What?”
She sat down across from me folding her hands on the table. “You’re lying,” she repeated. “You’re excited. Sure you’re pissed off that she did something so stupid, but you’re excited that the stakes are higher now. No one can figure out how you can possibly win at this point, which means that when you do, it will be like ‘the great Levi Black has struck again!’ It’s one of the ways you get off.”
“One of the ways,” I said, as I looked her up and down again, and noticed that her top three buttons were undone giving me a slight peek at her teal laced bra.
“It looks like someone is helping you with that too.” She pointed to my neck, clearly annoyed.
“It’s a bug bite,” I told her dryly.
“Okay, I believe that.”
“You should, because I’ve never lied to you,” I said, and she froze. I could tell that she was getting ready to run. “Except for what you just pointed out, I do get off on winning impossible cases.”
She relaxed. “So how are you going to win this one?”
“Jury selection.”
“Jury selection,” she repeated slowly, relaxing into her chair as she thought about it. “But I can’t think of any group that would like her. Women are going to look at her like she’s a gold digger. Older men are going to take offence to that video, younger guys will just think it funny. Jury selection won’t be easy.”
“Nothing will be easy, but everyone has prejudices or pet peeves, sometimes it’s even hidden from themselves. A twitch at the mention of drugs, or money, or something. If that family is as fucked up as I think they are, all we have to do is show that they are no better than our client.”
“We don’t have to make her likeable,” she said with a fire in her eyes. “We have to make the Nash family despicable!” she stood up, clearly excited now.
“Exactly how hard can that really be?” I rose as well. “Pack up and head home, the next few weeks will be brutal.”
“I know.” She didn’t look up at me.
Opening the door, I stopped. Turning back to her I said, “Don’t feel bad about using your mother’s book.”
She dropped the papers in her hands, “What?”
Reaching down, I helped her pick them up. “Your mother’s book of favors—”
“How did you know about that?”
“Tristan was an intern for your mother, remember? Besides, that book is like myth in law circles. You shouldn’t feel bad for using it. And I know you did, because there is no way that you were able to dig up enough dirt on the two contending top students in one weekend by yourself. Whatever it was, it had to be big enough to get them to stop trying to go after your spot. Private detective?”
“Hacker,” she whispered, hanging her head low.
“Like I said, don’t be ashamed for using it. If anyone else had what you do, believe me, they would be using it a lot more often.”
“That’s because they didn’t know what type of person she really was—”
“It doesn’t matter. Using her name, or things, or living in her house, does not mean that you accept her or that you are becoming her,” I whispered, as I cupped her face in my hand, and lifted her head to meet my gaze. “It means that you’re strong enough to not let her name get in your way, and to use what you have to your advantage. That’s a testament to your strength, and it has nothing to do with her.”
Letting her go, I wanted to walk away and end things on a high note, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t done yet.
Holding on to her waist, I pulled her to me and I brought my lips to hers. She didn’t even try to push me away. Instead, she leaned into me, her arms wrapping around my neck. Grabbing onto her, I picked her up and placed her onto the table.
Kissing her like this was sinful, the way her legs wrapped around me, and the way her breasts pushed themselves against my chest drove me mad. I never wanted to stop kissing her, but I had to… breathing had never been so annoying.
“We aren’t done Thea. ‘So I can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.’ ” I repeated the very words she said to me that night on the phone. “That isn’t enough to push me away. Especially when your body still reacts like this every time I touch it.”
To illustrate my point, I slipped my hand between her thighs and softly stroked the length of them. She shivered, and tried to turn her head away from me. But I forced her to look me in the eye. She bit her lower lip, trying to keep from moaning, even as she ground her hips against my hand.
“You don’t look like a woman trying to run from me,” I said kissing her lips softly as I played with her entrance.
“Ah!” she gasped, grabbing on to my arm.
“And you definitely don’t sound like a woman trying to run from me.”
I kissed her lips, then her cheek, and finally, I lightly licked the edge of her ear and gently sucked on her earlobe. She shivered against me, as her flesh broke out into goose bumps.
“So I must assume that you aren’t really running from me,” I told her, “which is good to know, because I wasn’t planning on letting you go anyway. Like I said,” I broke away from her and took a step back as I licked my fingers clean, “we aren’t done. So when you’re ready to get serious again, let me know, or else, I’ll just keep playing with you.”
Walking out, I fought with my inner desire to take her right then and there on that table. But I couldn’t, at least not now. I was going to reel her in, nice and slow.
I’m going to need a lot of fucking cold showers.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THEA
Two months. It had been two months since that night in his office, and four months since I had met Levi Black. Four months since my world, and my life, had been turned upside down. In class, he was Professor Black, and after that night in the office, he was especially brutally in the classroom—we were now down to fourteen— but the moment I found myself alone with him—no matter how hard I tried I always ended up alone with him— in elevators, stairwells, cars— he always transformed back into just Levi. Just Levi was sexy, and passionate and… he was driving me insane.
When he said it wasn’t over, he’d meant it. If we were left alone in his town car, his hands found their way between my legs. When I wore pants, he smirked at the change and he would blatantly kiss me while his driver turned up the radio. The second his lips would touch mine, my mind would go blank, and before I realized it, the top button of my pants would be undone. What was worse was I was enjoying it. I enjoyed seeing how he would get to me. It excited me in ways I didn’t understand. My head kept telling me to stop but I didn’t want to.
In elevators, he would push the stop button, and push me up against the wall, kissing me as if it were the last time he was ever going to kiss anyone. I would cling to him wanting more than to just a kiss. He did the same thing whenever were in stairwells; he’d drive me back into a wall and kiss me fiercely and passionately. He’d even take it as far as trailing kisses down my neck, and gently biting the tops of my breasts, before backing away with a smile. That wasn’t enough for me.
I didn’t want to stop him. It turned me on each and every time, and every time he’d let me go, I’d realize that I wanted him more. But he never took it further than passionate kiss, or light teasing, and somehow that made it far worse th
an if we were actually having sex. His kisses, his touches, they weren’t enough.
When I’d sent Selene back to Maryland, I was proud of myself. I was proud that I had put away my lust and selfishness to do what I’d come here to do. But now, it was like I was going back on the promise I’d made to myself.
I just needed to reject him. I needed to be clear and straightforward. I needed for him to not touch me.
“So, this will be the end of the line for two of you,” he said, as he stood at the front of the class. “Whoever gets the lowest scores on the winter final, will be out. I would congratulate whoever you are right now for making it this far, but losing is nothing to congratulate anyone on.”
He walked around his desk and sat down. Taking out his red pen, he began to grade our exams. After spending three hours taking the damn thing, we were all exhausted and eager to leave, however, we needed to know whether or not we’d made it to the final twelve.
Vivian handed me some popcorn and I shook you my head at her. Atticus however, reached over and grabbed a handful.
“Six shots it’s the guy in the bow-tie,” Atticus said, and the guy turned back and glared at him.
Atticus shrugged and continued eating his popcorn.
“Ten it’s scarf guy,” Vivian whispered, “the one with the ‘80s earring.”
“Does anyone know anyone’s names?” I looked between them.
“No,” they both said.
“Why bother if he just kicks them out anyway? Can you remember any of the faces that have been kicked out of this class so far?” Vivian questioned.
“Once the twelve are set, I’ll learn the other nine names.” Atticus said, already counting us in.
They were so confident, and yet my hands were shaking.
Vivian looked towards me. “Why are you so stressed?”
“Why aren’t you? Am I the only one that thought the test was hard?”
They looked at each other for a moment before they both got up and sat at the end of the row… away from me.
Assholes.
“Funny,” I said but they pretended that they couldn’t see me. “Fine, I hope you both fail.”
“Do you hear something Vivian?”
“I’m not sure, but it sounds like the soft, snowy cries of doubt, Atticus.”
The soft, snowy cries of doubt?
“That doesn’t even make sense,” I snapped at them.
“Shh!” Bow-tie guy turned to us.
“Seriously, have you been here all semester?” I asked him, causing Vivian and Atticus to erupt into a fit of laughter.
They stopped the moment Levi looked up though. His green eyes scanned the classroom and everyone stopped breathing. Then, he looked back down, and continued grading.
The bastard was doing it on purpose!
Even so, I enjoyed watching him. His dark hair was slightly mussed, mostly from the good luck make out session we’d had on the stairwell right before we got to class.
I’m supposed to be rejecting him. But instead, here I was, daydreaming about how good it felt to be pinned against him, and how sexy he was with his glasses on. It was like I was under his control.
Once again when he looked up, we all froze. He got up, grabbed the eraser and began to erase my information.
“Oh shit,” Atticus said, sounding as though he were on the other end of the earth, or at least that was what it sounded like because of the way my heart was pounding against my chest and temples.
I watched in horror as he slowly erased my family, undergraduate degree, race, and finally my age, before stopping right under my name. Dropping the eraser, he grabbed the chalk and began writing the names of the other students in the class.
“Son of a bitch,” I gasped, easing back into the chair.
“And just when we thought we had finally gotten rid of you,” Atticus sighed, taking the seat to my right.
“She’s like Arnold Schwarzenegger, she keeps coming back, even when you don’t want her to,” Vivian added, taking a seat to my left.
“Thanks guys,” I said with sarcasm.
“Come on bow-tie guy.” Atticus pumped his fist waiting to see if the guy would get up and leave as Levi wrote only twelve names on the board.
Sure enough, bow tie did his walk of shame.
“Yes!” he cheered, and the pour guy looked like he wanted to strangle him. “Maybe next year?”
“Scarf guy is… gone.” Vivian high fived him and turned to me.
Rolling my eyes, I high fived her.
“You’re both horrible people.”
“Sure, and how did we become your allies again? Good thing we’re friends now,” Atticus countered.
But in all honesty, I wasn’t sure if they were my friends. They were people I spent a lot of time with, but I wasn’t sure if that made us friends.
“Ladies and gentlemen, congratulations. You are now a part of ‘the twelve disciples’,” he said.
Why I do I feel like the pope is sneezing or something?
“From now on, we’ll no longer be holding sessions in this room. Instead, all of my classes will be held at my office. You will be learning first-hand what it means to be a criminal lawyer.”
He began to gather up his things, and the moment we—Atticus, Vivian and I— noticed, we were on our feet.
“Neither I, nor my associates, have the time to catch you up to speed. And as you know, I am currently working on the Nash Case with three of your classmates. Luckily, they’ve managed to keep their seats, because it would have been rather awkward for you all otherwise—Why aren’t you walking?” he barked.
As we all turned to see what who he was talking to, we saw that all other nine students were still in their seats. Atticus’ eyes widened and he jerked his head in a ‘come along, hurry up’ gesture. The nine students all rose and rushed out of the classroom to follow us.
“Things will be happening quickly,” he continued. “If you can’t show up, don’t come back. If you think you will be celebrating Christmas with your family, look to your left and then your right; shake hands with who you see, because that’s who your new family is. You will do what you’re asked, when you’re asked, and go where you are needed. Every day is Judgment Day. Being part of the twelve is not a free ride. Your real work starts now.”
He waited for no one and was already in his town car.
“If you aren’t at the office before he is, he will smite you,” I said to them, as Vivian hailed a taxi for us three.
“See you there,” Atticus said as we took a seat inside.
I turned to see them rushing for taxis of their own, but it was rush hour, and it was virtually impossible to hail one down. Which is why we not only spilt one, but we had him on speed dial.
“I kind of understand why his associates treat us like crap now. It’s kind of fun when you’re the one dishing it out,” Vivian said.
And she was right. It was kind of fun, but we all knew it was only going to last the duration of our cab ride.
The Nash case was set for the week before Christmas, then there would be a short break before Levi would be back in court.
Where had the year gone?
LEVI
“A juror was tweeting during selection? Are you fucking kidding me? Which one?”
“Juror number four,” Tristan answered.
“Damn it.”
Good God, this case was driving me insane.
“Who’s replacing juror number four?”
They just looked around at each other before dashing for their notes. How the hell could I win a case with these idiots?!
“Who’s replacing juror number four?” I yelled.
“Deborah Padovano,” Thea said, as she walked in holding two trays of coffee.
“You, get up and take the coffee,” I pointed at one of my associates, and then to her, “You, sit down and talk, since no one else here seems to know a goddamn thing.”
They switched, and she rushed to the seat, grabbing one file from th
e stack in front us, and handed it to me.
“Deborah Padovano, age 72, her husband died six years ago of a heart attack and she never remarried, nor has any kids,” she recited off the top of her head.
“Where does she work?”
“She owns a small bakery and I think she might be good for us— you— this case,” she corrected herself.
“Why?” Tristan asked her, leaning forward.
“Her husband lost their entire life savings on a scam, forcing them to go back to work. He had a heart attack six months later, and she now owns her own bakery with the money she gained from his life insurance. I’m not saying she killed the man, nor am I saying that she was sad to see him go. There are thousands of women all across the country that hate their husbands. All we need is one, right?”
“Stay seated,” I said to her. “Everyone else, I want to know every horrible thing that Mr. Nash has ever done in his life, and I want it before the end of the day.”
“You, come with me,” I called to her.
She hesitated for a moment, then followed me out of the conference room.
“What do you need, Mr. Black?”
She walked with space between us as we headed to my office.
Betty gave me a look, the wrinkles under her eyes standing out more as I held the door open for Thea.
“Hold my calls for an hour.”
“Yes sir,” she said, with a hint of attitude.
“Is something wrong, Betty?”
“No sir,” she replied, as she pretended to type away on her computer.
“Are you sure?” I pushed.
She sighed, pushing herself away from her desk and rising. She turned to face me. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, how long have I been working for you?”
“Eight years, give or take.”
“I understand that you’re busy being the Great Levi Black and all, but you would think for my years of dedication at the very least you could—”
Walking over to her desk, I pulled open the bottom drawer, reached all the way into the back of it and placed the pretty blue box on her desk.
I grinned, “Go on?”