Loyal Lawyer by Lauren Runow

Chapter Six

When Sebastian said he’d call, I didn’t expect my phone to ding the next day, so I’m pretty surprised when I get a text message from him while packing up my wedding order.

I’m sitting here with a gorgeous box of chocolate and wondering if ten a.m. is too early to indulge. Thought I’d ask the expert.

I pick up my phone, my heart beating faster all of a sudden. I can’t help the grin on my face as I turn around, lean on the counter, and text back.

It is never too early for decadence.

You have my permission. ;-)

I’m officially spoiled.

You’ve ruined chocolate for me for eternity.

I’m happy to support your habit.

Just don’t tell anyone who your dealer is.

My lips are sealed.

I had a great time last night.

Me too.

I believe there’s man code that states I should wait three days before asking you out, but I’m not one to follow such rules. Have dinner with me.

Are you asking or telling?

Eagerly awaiting …

It’s refreshing to text with a man who is confident enough not to play games or be coy. He sees what he likes and goes for it. He texts again before I can respond.

I’m working late this week on a big case and want to make plans with you before I get too busy to ask. Are you available next Friday?

You’re sweet. Next Friday sounds great.

Then, it’s a date.

I set down my phone and look up, only to see Shawn staring at me with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” I ask and then turn around to get back to work, not really wanting him to answer.

“Hot date?” He walks over to me and leans against the counter, so he’s facing me.

I normally don’t discuss my personal life with Shawn even though I know his entire life, but Charity was at work last night, and I’m dying to tell someone about my date.

“Yes, actually.” I blush, and I feel it all the way to my toes.

“Lawyer?”

“Yes. We went out after he helped me get out of my lease, and he just asked me out again.”

“Damn, girl. Look at you. Getting the attention of some high-class attorney. When’s the date?”

“Next Friday.” I turn to head into my office to grab the address I’m supposed to mail these to even though I don’t need it right this second. I just don’t want to hear—

“As in next week?” He follows me into the office.

I try to act nonchalant. “Yes, he has a busy schedule, and he said he wanted to—”

“Pencil you in?”

“Oh, stop. I think it’s considerate and cute. He wanted to make sure he had something to look forward to since he’s working on a big case.”

“Interesting plan. He keeps the girls waiting and wanting more. Do you think I could get away with that? Maybe say I have a huge order we need to get out?”

I laugh. “Sorry, Shawn. No one will believe chocolate is that busy of a job, no matter how much I want it to be.”

* * *

Shawn was right when he said having the date planned that far out would keep me waiting and wanting more. Every day, I looked at the calendar, counting down the nights until I got to see him again. I swear it was the longest week of my life.

Now that it’s Friday, I can’t wait until tonight. I haven’t been this excited for a day to come since I was a little girl, waiting on Christmas to arrive.

Sebastian texted late last night, saying he was at work but wanted to make sure we were still on. When I responded, I got so giddy that I had to make myself a drink to calm down my excitement.

Then, he called this morning, saying to be ready by six and he’d pick me up to go to Ocean Prime—the fanciest steak house in the city.

I’m wearing my sexiest red dress with black pumps and a necklace that draws attention to my décolletage—one of my favorite parts of my body.

Not wanting to explain having to go through the gym or have him walk through the alley, I decide to wait out front for him to arrive.

An exotic black car pulls up. The purr of the engine is so low that it’s almost silent. I glance in to see Sebastian putting it in park and unbuckling his seat belt before hopping out. Since he’s not expecting me to be standing here, he’s caught off guard, and he stops in his tracks when he sees me.

The expression on his face is one I’ve only seen in movies. Those chocolate eyes move down my body like silk coating my skin. From my shoulders, down the curve of my waist, and over my hips, lowering from one leg to the other, all with pure appreciation of the person standing in front of him.

And that person is me.

“You look amazing,” he says breathlessly.

A grin spreads across my face. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

I reach out my hand and lightly tug on the blue designer button-up that fits his body like a glove. Sebastian has always presented himself well, but in this shirt, I can see the definition of his broad chest, fit torso, and the curve of his biceps.

He escorts me to the passenger side and opens the door like a true gentleman.

“What kind of car is this?” I ask as I slide in. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“A BMW i8. It’s fully electric and a blast to drive.”

He shuts the door and heads over to the driver’s side as I take in the high-tech interior.

As he buckles his seat belt, he grins in my direction. “So glad we set this up early. Seeing you again is the one thing that helped get me through the trial this week.”

I instantly blush again. He has a way of making me do that. He’s so sweet and honest. Those are rare traits, and I like it.

“I hope this doesn’t ruin the night, but did you win?”

He glances at me out the side of his eye. A devilish smirk crosses his face. “At the risk of sounding like an egomaniac … abso-fucking-lutely.”

I laugh out loud. “Good for you. Now, we have something to celebrate.”

He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckle. His warm mouth presses firmly to my skin, sending a wave of excited chills up my arm and straight down the front of my body. I might let out a tiny quiver that I can’t hide.

“I’d like that,” he says, releasing my hand and putting the car in drive.

A few minutes later, we pull up to the corner restaurant made of brick, and my mouth salivates. I’ve only heard of this place but never treated myself to a meal here.

I open my door, and Sebastian walks around the car to join me, instantly intertwining his fingers with mine as we head toward the entrance. I try to hide the way it affects me, but inside, I’m a twelve-year-old girl, holding hands with her crush.

The place is bustling with people at tables and lining the bar. Elegance drips from every corner, and I’m glad I chose this dress, as I feel like I fit in here perfectly even though I’m currently sleeping on a futon and living out of my office, which has been making me feel like a vagabond lately.

“Two for Blake,” Sebastian says as we approach the hostess station.

“Yes, Mr. Blake. We have your table ready. Right this way,” the hostess responds as she grabs two menus.

He motions for me to go first, and I follow her through the restaurant to a private table near the window.

I take my seat as Sebastian takes his, and the waitress hands us our menus. After we order some drinks, our conversation continues with ease. This time, I get to learn some more about him.

“Since my father was a surgeon, as a kid, I used to sit in his office after school and shadow him. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps badly.”

“Didn’t have the stomach for slicing and dicing?”

“Actually, I wanted to be an actor.” He takes a sip of his drink.

“Really? Are we talking Shakespearean plays, toothpaste commercials, or full-on Timothée Chalamet?”

“More like Michael B. Jordan action kind of stuff. That guy is an amazing actor and has the kind of career I would have wanted. He was the new Rocky after all.”

“Agreed. He’s also really hot.” I cheers and take a sip of my drink. “What made you give up on the acting dream?”

“I joined the debate team in high school for extra credit and found I was just as good with arguing in public as I was with reciting lines. In college, my mother encouraged me to take prelaw classes to see how I’d do. I figured they’d help me in the days when I starred on Law & Order.”

“Because every actor starts out with a role on Law & Order.”

“Exactly. I quickly learned that I really liked studying casework. I found it was easy to understand and challenging enough to make me want to get better. Conducting a deposition or giving an opening argument is very much like acting. You read from a script and put in the right amount of emotion to get your point across and be convincing. When you’re onstage, you should know how to improvise in case something goes wrong. Same with the courtroom. You have to have enough legal research in your brain to be able to spew it off the cuff to counter an argument. It’s challenging and fun, if you’re doing it right.”

“That’s an incredible way to compare the two.”

“Both crafts take late nights, rehearsals, and research. They’re just different disciplines.”

“And the pro bono work?”

“That’s a bonus. My mother taught me to be generous. To be a good man, you should help someone else in need even if that means having less for yourself.”

My teeth skim my lower lip as I take him in. Illegally handsome face, easy smile, and a personality that’s flawless. I like what I’m seeing and what I’m hearing. A lot.

“Now that you won your big case, who will you help next?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get a text message that inspires me.”

That makes me laugh.

Instead of entrées, we select five appetizers to share as our conversation continues.

He’s slicing into the goat cheese ravioli while I tell him about my friends Charity and Shawn.

I nibble on a crab cake as he fills me in on the firm, his partners, and the office, making me laugh as he tells stories of his staff pranking him by sending him singing telegrams, which he happens to find incredibly embarrassing.

He chews on calamari as he listens to me go on about this time Charity and I went skiing, only to be stuck at the top of the mountain because she was too scared to come down.

We laugh about our common love of the show Impractical Jokers while enjoying our oysters. We happen to have the same favorite episode and a deep love for the comics.

Over a shrimp tempura roll, he reminds me of being an only child, and I tell him about growing up as the youngest of five children.

“My sisters are both married to their college sweethearts. My brothers have gorgeous and equally successful wives.”

“Nieces and nephews?” he asks.

“Six,” I say, and his eyes widen. “They’re awesome and my absolute pride and joy. You’d think that would keep everyone happy enough to not worry about my single status, but it only makes things worse.”

“Ah, so you’re the spinster of the group.”

I raise a fork in agreement. “Yep. My parents aren’t my biggest problem though. It’s the siblings. They’re all professionals—a doctor, day trader, vice principal, and an ad executive—so my entrepreneurial whims are a little too adventurous for them to grasp. Plus, they never approve of anyone I bring home. Heather analyzes his job. Fiona, his looks. Henry thinks he’s smarter than everyone—and possibly is—while Matthew is ready to bench anyone just to show he’s more masculine. No man stands a chance against the Morgana crew.”

“Then, you’re not bringing the right man over to see them,” he says with a cocky smile.

“Have anyone in mind?” I tease.

“I bet I could come up with someone.” He winks.

Everything about dinner is going great. The food is amazing, the service is prompt and friendly, and my date is … well … a dream. As someone who just came out of a one-sided relationship, I can instantly feel the difference. Sebastian is a proud man but not in a negative way. In fact, I feel as if he looks at me, a woman he has welcomed into his world, as something he finds pride in as well.

He wants to know about me, and in return, I’m enamored by him. When you look up the word swoonworthy on the internet, I bet there’s a picture of Sebastian Blake next to the definition.

Our dishes are cleared, and the waitress comes to ask if we’d like anything else. Sebastian declines and asks for the check. He must sense my confusion as he leans in.

“You seem disappointed in no dessert.”

“Surprised actually. I hope you don’t think I’m a confection snob.”

“Not at all. I happen to have something special planned.”

“How special?”

“A jazz club.”

“Jazz, huh? What makes you think I’d like that?”

“It’s more of a jazz fusion club. When I called last night to tell you what time to be ready, I heard the music in the background.”

He has a good ear. I was listening to the Lady Lady album by Masego. The artist incorporates the saxophone into his music creation, making a sexy, sultry blend.

“Jazz for dessert it is.”

He moves his hand across the table until it’s lying on top of mine. His palm is large and hot as it encloses my tiny one. “I also heard they serve the most amazing chocolate martinis.”

A slow, sexy smile graces my face as I look at him from under my lashes. “Well, Mr. Blake, it seems you have figured out a way into this woman’s heart,” I say as I roll my palm over, exposing it to his.

He takes my hand and raises it to his lips. “Then, let’s get out of here.”

We drive to the other side of town, where a neon sign with the word Jazz is lit up in blue outside the building. After we exit the car, Sebastian holds the door for me as I step inside, and I feel like I’ve been transported to another time.

Red brick walls are on two sides of the room with large windows in the front, and drapes hang tall and long behind a stage. A four-piece band plays up front with someone else on a black grand piano.

The hostess walks us to a table with a placard that says Reserved. As soon as we sit down, a waitress, who smiles at Sebastian in a familiar way, places chocolate martinis in front of us.

“I take it, she knew we were coming then?” I run my finger along the rim of the glass.

“I might or might not have sent her a text, saying we were on our way. She dates a friend of mine.”

We cheers, and I sip the most decadent martini I’ve had in a while.

Unlike at the restaurant, Sebastian and I are seated side by side as we watch the band and listen to the music. His arm wraps around the booth behind us, making it easy for me to slide into his side without seeming forward. Our hips touch, and there’s something about the contact of our bodies, as simple as it is, that ignites a fire in my belly.

He talks to me throughout the set, speaking directly into my ear so I can hear him over the trumpet. His breath tickles my skin, and the citrusy scent of his cologne is invigorating.

I turn my head to respond, and our faces are close. So close that my chest rises with the deep inhale as I look up into his steely gaze and lick my lips, having to bite down so I don’t do something foolish, like attack this man and kiss him senseless.

Because I want to.

From the top of my head to the bottom of my toes, electricity courses through my body, and I’m dying to latch on to this man and taste his lips and touch his body. I could blame it on the martini I’ve drank or the oysters, which are said to be an aphrodisiac. That would all be a lie, of course. No food or drink could make me want this man more than his mere presence does.

Sebastian Blake is a walking, talking aphrodisiac.

“Dance with me,” he croons, and I nod with a swallow.

He rises and takes my hand, walking me over to a small dance floor, where a few people are gliding to the music.

His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me flush to him. His hard body is like a magnet for my soft one. His other hand skims my hip as I raise my arms around his neck and move with him.

We sway to the beat of the saxophone.

My heart pounds with the bass.

As he lowers his forehead to mine, my entire soul gives in completely. It’s silly really. A man I met barely two weeks ago has barreled his way into my world, and I’m beyond smitten. I should hate men after what Hardin did to me.

I can’t though. Not when this one is holding me close and staring at me from under hooded eyes, like I’m the only woman in the room. No, he’s looking at me like I’m the last living being in the entire world.

I move my hand down to his chest and lay it over the space where his heart beats hard and fast. His hand clenches my side, and I know he’s just as affected as I am.

“I want to kiss you, Amy,” he whispers in the space between us.

“Why don’t you?”

“I’m afraid if I start, I won’t want to stop, and we’re not in the most private of places.”

“Good thing you have restraint,” I say.

His brows curve in concern. “Why’s that?”

“Because I have none.”

My cheeks are flush, my body is aching, and my heels rise as I lean up and kiss him. In a jazz club with the rhythmic beats of a sultry ballad, on a dance floor, in front of people who are probably too consumed by their own lives to notice, I kiss him.

His mouth parts instantly and welcomes me in, sliding his tongue against mine, eliciting a moan from deep in my throat. My hands grip his neck as I pull him closer, savoring his delicious mouth. His hands hold me tighter as my fingers grip at his shirt.

Chests press up against each other, and groins roll. It’s a good thing we’re already dancing because the movement must look lethal. Our kiss is heady and delicious—the kind you can get lost in for days.

Thankfully, Sebastian pulls away before we get too carried away.

Our foreheads find one another again. Our breaths are pants as we gaze into each other’s eyes and smile.

“This is happening?” he asks, and I nod happily. “We are happening.”

“I like we.”

“I like you. A lot.” He kisses my forehead and takes my hand as he walks us back to the table.

I snuggle into his side and enjoy the rest of the evening, drinking, listening, stealing kisses, and loving every moment of being by Sebastian’s side.

When the night is over, we walk to the car and head back to my place. I have Sebastian pull up into the alley this time. It might not be glamorous, but it’s my home, and it’s late.

He looks out the window, seeming uncomfortable. “This is the only way inside?”

“It’s the direct way. You can also access it from the gym but only during business hours.”

“This is your business and your home?”

“Yep. My own piece of heaven,” I joke.

His face still looks disturbed, so I grab his chin, lean over, and kiss him—a surefire way to get that expression off his face. Now, he is drinking in my kisses, gripping my waist, and pulling me over to him. I kick off my shoes and crawl over the center console to straddle his waist.

My dress rides up my hips, and my lace thong and his pants are the only fabric between us. His thick, granite-like erection springs forward, and I still for a second, surprised by the mass between my thighs before moving on instinct, finding it a welcoming friction.

His hands are in my hair as he groans. I take the opportunity to run my fingertips down his torso, exploring his gorgeous physique over his clothes.

Our simple kiss turns hot and heavy quickly. His hands move to my waist, holding me steady as his hips lift up and push into me, making me gasp at the feel of his cock hitting the most absolute perfect spot to cause shivers all over my body.

We’re completely clothed, and yet every move is tangibly erotic. My breasts are heavy, nipples tingling with electricity that rushes down my spine and straight to my core.

We kiss and paw at each other like teenagers until I’m about to combust.

“Do you want to come inside?” I ask, almost coy.

“I do,” he says in earnest. “But I won’t.” He leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes, frustration evident in the bite of his jaw. His expression says it all. “I’m going to hate myself in a few minutes for doing this, but I should call it a night.”

My shoulders fall, as does my face, I’m sure, because the rejection stings.

“Hey.” He grips my chin and kisses me again. “I’m putting the brakes on this because I like you, Amy. More than I’m ready to explain. I think this thing between us can go somewhere, and I’m not in a rush. In fact, I want to do everything correctly. If that means going home with an insane case of blue balls, then so be it. I hope I’m explaining this clearly because telling you to go inside without me is the last thing I want to do. But it’s the right thing to do.”

Well, how can a girl be upset after a declaration like that?

I smile and kiss him again. We don’t stop for a while, making out like teenagers who just can’t get enough of each other. Because that’s how I feel. Like I will never get enough of Sebastian Blake.

It pains me to slide off of him, but I do. He helps me fix my dress and then gets out of the car to open my door.

He walks me to my stoop and kisses my cheek. It’s so chaste that it’s adorable.

I unlock the door and walk inside when he grabs me and pulls me back for yet another long, deep kiss after pushing me up against the wall.

“Sweet dreams, Amy.”

“Good night.”

“Get inside quick because I’m rethinking this decision.”

“I’m more than happy to help you rethink it,” I tease, but he swats me on the butt, and I yelp in laughter as I rush inside and close the door.

As I stand in my dark, empty kitchen, I can honestly say I’ve never felt more alive.

It’s going to be very easy to fall in love with Sebastian Blake.