Meat Market Anthology Read online

  But I can’t manage to avoid checking Josette out from the corner of my eye while I’m at counsel’s table.

  I catch her watching me at least once. That’s a good sign, right? It offers me a little hope that she might hear me out. All I’m hoping for is for her to give me a chance to explain myself and what happened Saturday night. I don’t think that’s asking for much, but given the cold shoulder she’s giving me today, I may have my work cut out for me.

  When I finish my case and turn my eyes to meet hers, she blushes then looks down at a paper on her lap and scribbles furiously.

  Probably something about what a big douche I am—definitely not “I love Wade Saxon” with little hearts doodled around it.

  Instead of leaving, like I should, to get back to the office and do some actual work, I pop a squat on the bench outside the courtroom and wait. I’m gonna make Josette talk to me no matter how much she may be trying to avoid it.

  I can’t go through another night like the last two. I’ve barely slept—thankfully, not because I had a date last night, though. Jason wasn’t happy when I cancelled my Sunday “social engagement.” But after Saturday night, there’s no way I could do it. My mind replays what happened on Josette’s front steps on a constant loop. It’s pretty much all I’ve been able to think about, so putting on a game face to go out with another woman, and potentially have to fuck her, just wasn’t happening.

  How could it have gone so horribly wrong with Josette?

  I thought I’d made it pretty clear throughout the evening how much I liked her, how attracted to her I was.

  Maybe my game is off?

  It’s possible I’ve grown rusty in the whole “assessing a woman’s interest” thing in the last two years. But I could have sworn she was reciprocating with the flirting.

  Maybe she’s just being cautious. If that’s it, then I can’t say I really blame her. She doesn’t know me, not really. All she knows is she paid for a date with “Lewis,” and I showed up on her doorstep. But her aggressive reaction to my attempt to kiss her Saturday night just doesn’t sit well with me. That was more than being cautious. That was flat-out anger. And Josette is not a woman I want mad at me.

  I’ve seen her chew up and spit out attorneys who have been doing this for forty years like it was nothing. That earned her my respect well before we ever met. A confident woman who doesn’t let the old boys’ club mentality of the Cook County Courts intimidate her deserves admiration. The fact that she’s breathtakingly beautiful is only an added bonus.

  Fuck.

  Why didn’t I ask her out? Why didn’t I make a move?

  Because she’s older, more experienced, and I thought she certainly had a man wrapped around her finger. It may be too little, too late. But she needs to know how pure my intentions were…not that I didn’t want to get her in bed, but that wasn’t my goal. I just wanted to get to know her and be close to her. She needs to know my interest is real. She needs to know how totally and completely wrong she was. She needs to understand the truth.

  JOSETTE

  Of all the goddamn courtrooms in Cook County, he has to be in the same one as me this morning.

  Fate is one mean bitch.

  All I want to do is get through my motion, get the fuck out of here, deny I ever saw him, and forget everything that happened Saturday night.

  Jesus…

  I can’t believe he thought I would pay him for sex.

  What an asshole.

  I managed to avoid looking at him while we waited for our cases, but once he was on the record, and I heard that low, gravelly voice, my eyes flicked over to him of their own accord.

  Of fucking course he caught me looking, too. The heat spreading across my face only confirmed for him that I’d been scoping him out.

  How embarrassing. He doesn’t deserve my attention, not after what he did.

  It’s time to push him to the back of my mind, once and for all, so I can concentrate on my work again.

  My motion goes smoothly despite my inability to get Wade out of my mind, no matter how much I try. Another mark in the win column. I’m going to need as many of those as possible if I want the partners to forget the fact that Wade isn’t a part of my life anymore.

  I fly out the door of the courtroom with plans to hightail it back to the office, but instead, I come face-to-face with Wade sitting across the hall just staring at me.

  Goddammit.

  Why does he have to look so damn good in a suit?

  And be such an amazing lawyer—competent and passionate in the court room. All it does is make me think about how those skills will transfer into the bedroom.

  Why? Why? Why? Why?

  And why the hell do I have to be attracted to him?

  This would be so much easier if he were ugly. And dumb.

  But he is a jerk.

  He climbs to his feet, his perfectly tailored suit moving with him, clinging in all the right places. “Josette, we need to talk.”

  I walk past him without a pause. If I linger even a second, it will mean the end of my resolve. “There’s nothing to talk about, Attorney Saxon.”

  His footsteps follow me down the marble hallway. “There most certainly is. We clearly had a misunderstanding on Saturday.”

  Misunderstanding, my ass!

  Fighting my natural instinct to look back at him when I reply is nearly impossible, but somehow, I manage. “No, there wasn’t. It was perfectly clear what happened.”

  He grabs my elbow to stop me and turns me to face him. I’m tempted to slap him again, but there are people bustling up and down the hallway, including several other lawyers who are now eyeing us speculatively.

  “Will you stop litigating for a second and just listen to me?”

  His eyes plead with me, and despite my anger, I can’t find it in my heart to say no to him.

  Pushover.

  Something about him draws me, like a moth to a flame. He will burn me, no doubt, but I need to at least give him a chance to say whatever it is he wants to tell me. If I don’t, he’ll never leave me alone, and this awkward tension between us will linger for the remainder of our careers. It could make for some very uncomfortable days in court.

  So, with reluctance, I nod. “Fine. But not here. Meet me at my place at seven tonight.”

  We’ll put an end to this nonsense then.

  CHAPTER SIX

  WADE

  MY STOMACH IS LODGED IN my throat before I even knock on her door. Standing in the exact spot she slapped me Saturday night makes me second-guess the wisdom of being here.

  I’ve never been nervous for a paid date, a motion hearing, hell, even a trial, but this woman has me tied in knots.

  The three raps of my knuckles against the door sound more like a foreboding warning instead of announcement of my presence.

  Shit. Pull yourself together.

  Thirty seconds feels like five minutes, but the door finally opens.

  Her icy blue eyes are wary, but she moves aside to allow me in without a word. I follow her and force myself to keep my eyes on our surroundings instead of her ass in the tight yoga pants plastered against her skin.

  She’s trying to kill me.

  The moment she steps into the den, she bee-lines for the small bar in the corner. “Want a drink?’

  Hell, yes.

  “Uh, sure.” Alcohol will probably help numb the inevitable pain this conversation will bring.

  She holds up a bottle of Maker’s Mark. “Bourbon good?”

  I smile and nod. She even has decent booze. Could she be any more perfect for me? “Perfect.”

  With her back to me, it’s impossible to tell what she might be thinking. But if it’s anything like my current thoughts, it’s a cluster of about a thousand different things. I want to tell her everything—why I started doing this, how I’ve been wanting out and just didn’t realize it, how she was…is different. But I have no idea where or how to start.

  Every way I’ve gone over it in my head sounds wr
ong. How can you make a woman like Josette understand taking money for sex?

  She turns back to me and hands me a glass. I raise it in a silent toast before I take a sip. The spicy heat burns my throat in the best way possible and gives me an excuse to take a couple moments to gather my thoughts.

  After an awkward minute, Josette drops onto the couch and watches me expectantly. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”

  I release a sigh and run my free hand back through my hair, considering my words. “I think you got the wrong idea on Saturday. I wasn’t coming on to you because you paid for my company. I was coming on to you because I like you.”

  She pauses with her drink halfway up to her mouth and frowns, a crease forming in her forehead. I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking right now.

  “How can you expect me to believe that? You’re just saying it now because we have to see each other professionally and don’t want it to be weird.”

  The words are said with such conviction, it’s clear she really believes what she said. Exactly what I feared.

  “Not true.” I move toward where she sits on the couch but stop a few feet away, not wanting to crowd her or make her feel uncomfortable. “I noticed you the first time you came into the courtroom when I was a newbie. I just figured a woman like you would be taken, so I never approached you.”

  Something I’m deeply regretting right now.

  Her eyes sharpen and narrow on me, and she rises from the couch. “I don’t believe you. You lie for a living, Wade, and I bet you’re pretty damn good at it.”

  JOSETTE

  He recoils slightly at my words, but I didn’t say anything I don’t believe to be true. A good lawyer can convince someone of anything. And Wade is a great lawyer. I need to be on guard at all times around this man. If I’m not careful, he’ll weasel his way past my carefully constructed barriers and get to me in a way I can’t fight.

  When he closes the distance between us, my first instinct is to step back. But I don’t, because I’m apparently a glutton for punishment. And being this close to Wade Saxon is pure agony on my neglected libido. The same musky, masculine scent he wore on Saturday envelops me again.

  It’s like pure sex.

  And it’s not fair, not at all.

  His hand slides over mine, and he takes my glass from me. After setting both glasses on the end table, he returns to stand in front of me, his whiskey colored eyes burning into mine, but not with anger, with something much more dangerous.

  “Does this feel like a lie?”

  Before I even have time to react, his lips are on mine, kissing away any ability to form coherent thought or voice any protest.

  Not that I would protest.

  It’s not a kiss. No. It’s more of an all-out assault on my mouth and my senses. His tongue seeks entry, and, instead of stopping him, I moan against his lips and open for him. Because, Christ, Wade can fucking kiss.

  Our bodies surge together, and his very real interest presses against my stomach. Jesus, it’s been too long. And he feels so damn good.

  Just as quickly as it started, he pulls away and steps back.

  What?

  My eyes fly open and meet his. They blaze at me, but he keeps his distance. “Tell me you don’t believe I really want you, and I’ll go.”

  I drive my hands back through my hair and tug on the ends in frustration. “Oh, I believe you want me. That’s not a problem.”

  That’s not the problem at all.

  Confusion flits across his face. “Then what is?”

  Well, he asked…

  “Besides the fact that I work so much I don’t have time for a relationship? How about the fact that you’re a prostitute?”

  He recoils harder than when I slapped him on Saturday night. I instantly regret using that word, but that’s what he is, isn’t it? He dates and sleeps with women for money. What else could I call it?

  His eyes close, and he takes several deep breaths. I’ve never seen him rattled in the courtroom, but my words have clearly thrown him. After a moment, he sighs. “That’s not what I do. I mean, yes, I sleep with women who pay for my company occasionally, but the vast majority of my dates are just lonely women who want someone to spend time with. You’re the first one I’ve ever really wanted to be with. I never expected to feel so dirty for doing this because it never affected my life before. I just needed to do this to keep my firm afloat.”

  My questions about his car and financial situation loom again.

  “Yeah, we never really got around to talking about that. How the hell did you end up working at The Meat Market, anyway?”

  He sighs and runs a hand back to his hair again. “Well, when I went to law school, it was with the intent to go to work for my grandfather’s firm when I graduated. He had a very successful practice, and I used to help there during summers. But the old man died six weeks before I graduated. Instead of inheriting his firm and clients, or even part of his estate, all I got was his sports car and all the rest of his estate and money were donated to Northwestern Law School. He left me a letter saying that he had built his firm from the ground up and it made him a better lawyer and that’s what he wanted me to do. And I tried, I really did, but I just didn’t have the number of clients I needed to pay my overhead. This is an expensive town. My buddies from college own The Meat Market and offered to let me come to work for them. I thought it sounded fun.”

  I cringe at the admission.

  “And it was fun for a while. It’s not anymore.”

  My heart wars with my common sense. I believe him, but that doesn’t change the situation. I may be able to eventually forget what he did. We all have pasts, after all. But it sounds like he needs to keep doing this. “Are you saying you want to give it all up to be with me? After one date? One that I paid for?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WADE

  DO I WANT TO GIVE it up? The money? What will I do with the firm? What will happen to The Meat Market? They need the income as much as I do.

  A thousand questions race through my head. But there’s only one answer.

  I reach out for her and tug her against me. “Yes.”

  Her eyes widen, and she pulls her lower lip under her teeth for a moment before releasing it. “Really?”

  A storm rages in the blue depths, and I know it will take some time to convince her things with us are different. But I’m willing to put in the time and the effort. She’s fucking worth it. I just hope she gives me the chance to show her how serious I am.

  The Meat Market is my past. She’s my present and future.

  Finally.

  No more waiting. I kiss her, pouring everything I want to say into the single action. Her tongue tangles with mine, and this time, her fingers curl into my shirt, and she drags me even closer. Whatever reservations she may have had, they seem to have been supplanted by the fire burning between us, at least for the time being.

  My hands slide down her small frame until I’m gripping her thighs. She doesn’t need any encouragement. She jumps up and wraps her legs around my waist, grinding her core against my rock-hard cock.

  Sweet fuck…

  I don’t want to tear my lips from hers, give her any reason to stop doing what she’s doing to me. But there’s information I need. Important information. So, I pry myself away from her. Her eyes fly open and search mine.

  “Bedroom?” I grin at her, and she laughs, nodding her head backward toward a hallway behind her.

  It’s all the direction I need.

  Every step I take toward her bedroom crushes my cock against her heat. Even through our clothes, it’s scorching. I can’t remember the last time I wanted a woman this badly. The last two years have made me forget what it’s like to truly want someone. It’s a heady mix of unrestrained lust and uncontrollable frenzy.

  I stumble halfway down the hall, our kiss fogging my head and making walking nearly impossible. Pushing her against the wall seems like the best course of action if I want to stay on my feet. A
lthough, the floor of the hallway would work for what I have in mind…maybe a bit tough on the knees, though.

  Wall seems to be the lesser of two evils, plus it’s closer.

  She gasps when her back hits the drywall, and she breaks our kiss to pull back and look at me. “Why’d you stop?”

  “Because I can’t wait another ten feet to be inside you.”

  JOSETTE

  His words, along with the friction against my clit from his walk down the hallway, almost have me coming on the spot.

  I don’t know if it’s just been too long since I’ve had sex, or if it’s because of the way Wade throws me off balance, but any reservations I had about being with him have flown the coop. It’s probably not smart. As a lawyer, I should be more analytical. But I’m sick of analyzing Wade and his motives.

  The only thing that matters right now is my very wet pussy and his very hard cock. Everything else can wait until later.

  My hands move to the button of his jeans in a split-second, and his mouth descends on mine again.

  Dammit.

  Why are these damn buttons so fucking hard to unhook?

  He chuckles against my lips and pushes me harder into the wall with his chest before moving his hands down to assist me. I clutch his hips between my thighs until his palms return to support my thighs.

  Lips connect with the heated skin on my neck, and I grind against him. He sucks against the throbbing pulse there, and a bolt of electricity shoots straight to my clit.

  One of his hands moves down to the waistband of my yoga pants. “We need to get these off you.”

  I nod my agreement and wiggle my hips to assist him as he pulls the fabric down my thighs.

  My feet fall to the floor just long enough for him to bend and fully remove them and then shove his jeans and boxers down before I’m back up and pressed against the wall with his mouth on mine. The length of his dick presses against the very thin material of my thong. I reach down and capture it in my hand.