The Lawyer by Charlotte E Hart
Chapter Ten
WILLOW
Ithought I’d seen the worst of Landon Broderick when I first started. I was wrong.
Ever since that article showed up in his inbox, he’s been furious. Intimidating doesn’t cover it. I'm surprised the office is still in one piece. And the seriousness has made me reconsider some of my flirty behaviour. It's clear he hasn’t been in the mood, and I've needed to leave it at that. Besides, tonight, hopefully, I get to make him forget.
The mess with the FT article is a distraction I don’t need because all of a sudden, nobody can make a decision about the ball without my say so. The caterers arrived today for prep, but the kitchen at Tallington Hall wasn’t equipped for a banquet of this size and needed an additional combi-steam oven—at the cost of nearly ten grand. Would I authorise it as it would take the catering bill over budget? How in the world an oven costs ten grand, I don’t know, but I signed it off. And then, additional wait staff for the canapes and champagne because apparently, the dimensions of the welcome hall were off on our plans, meaning there weren’t enough people to serve adequately. So far, we're nearly twenty grand over budget, but that’s a drop in the ocean to a company like this, right?
I keep telling myself it'll be over soon, and while the thought of not having to make decisions on the specific blooms in the centrepieces is a delight, a part of me will miss it. Besides, I'm excited about actually going to the ball.
The dress I found at Nuova Moda is simply out of this world. It's a vintage Julien Macdonald and wouldn't be out of place in the more risqué side of my wardrobe. Black sequins, jewels, lace, and other embellishments cover the body, and it's slashed at the front past my cleavage and splits to high thigh. The lace pulls tight from shoulder to wrist, and while the overall appearance might first be shockingly revealing, every part of me will be covered. Landon said not to wear something I’d wear to work—of course, he doesn’t know that me and Juniper share the same wardrobe. What I wear to work is dependent on which work I am currently doing.
~
With the mood that Landon's been in, I've been skittish for the whole afternoon. Not because of the way he's behaved around the office, but because I'm nervous he’ll cancel the appointment with Juniper tonight.
Anxiety and excitement are making me impatient, and I’m not too fond of that feeling. There are too many things that are starting to plague my mind, and the journey home doesn’t do anything but wind me up further.
“Oh, good, you’re home,” Ash blocks my path into the house. “I need some money.”
“Um, no. You’ve got access to the house account. You don’t need more than that. Besides, you could try getting a job.”
“No, I need money, Will. Real money.” I take a deep breath and count to ten in my head.
“What for?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Are you five? Of course, it matters. You don’t have a job, and I have to pay for your food, your bills, and everything else around the house. You get to live a pretty easy life, Ash. You don’t get to demand money from me.”
His eyes narrow accusingly at me. “I know you’re good for it.”
“I don’t care. There’s a few hundred left in the house account until next month. Use that.”
“I know you have their money. It’s mine too.”
“What?”
“Mum and Dad's. I want my share of what they left.”
“They didn’t leave a lot of money, Ash. We have this house, and I had to pay for that fancy school and uni, not that you’ve done anything with that. If you think there’s some nest egg, you're wrong.” I push him out the way and head to the kitchen at the back of the house.
“I’ve seen your bank statement. You’ve got thousands in there. Where else has it come from?”
“What the fuck, Ash! You’ve been going through my things?” He, at least, has the decency to look guilty. “I’ve saved. I’m earning a lot more than when I started eight years ago. The mortgage is paid. It’s just you I have to afford.”
“Well, I need the money. Tonight.”
“No. It’s mine. It’s time you stand on your own two feet. I’ve supported you for too long. You’ll always have a home here, but I’m done paying your way.”
His face turns a ruddy red colour as he clenches his fists at his side. I stand my ground, but all the while, my heart hammers against my ribs in fear because, right now, I don’t know what Ash will do.
He finally breaks our confrontation and leaves. I let the breath I was holding go and slump against the refrigerator. Ash and I need to sit down and talk.
Properly.
After the ball.
With the house to myself, I set about putting Ash out of my mind and concentrate on getting ready for tonight, and I know exactly what I’ll wear.
I meticulously rub moisturiser into every inch of my skin after I’ve finished my soak in the bath, paying special attention to my legs and décolletage to ensure I look soft and touchable. While I let it sink in, I pick my midnight blue velvet corset from the collection in my wardrobe. Its soft fabric is subtle and sophisticated and begs me to wear it. Teamed with the same shade of midnight blue lace knickers, the overall effect will be minimal but sexy.
Messing up my hair is easy, and I flick my head upside down and scratch my fingers into my scalp to build volume before setting it to make it even wilder. With my outfit chosen, I set about lacing myself in. The hook and eye front fastening cause my breasts to spill over the top even before I’ve finished tying the laces at the back.
I turn in front of the mirror, and, deciding there needs to be more flare in the outfit, I rummage through my accessories. I find two hair clips that will be perfect. Three gold chains of varying lengths hang from the clasp and hold hand-made peacock feathers. I slide the clips into position and shake my hair from side to side.
Perfect.
The peacock theme is complete with a teal green mask with rhinestones that obscures most all of my face.
Like last time, the car is already waiting for me outside, and with my long, dark coat, I hide the ensemble I hope Landon will approve of. Last time I was nervous for a whole other reason. This time, my mind’s already imagining scenarios that the evening could end in.
All of them involve breaking the rules.
I make my way up to his penthouse, and even as he opens the door, I’m undecided on how to play the night.
Landon’s rolled his shirt sleeves to his elbows, and the scowl that was so present this week still shadows his face. Suddenly, my intention for tonight is to ensure he’s so absorbed in me he can’t remember what he’s been so angry about.
“Come in.” He waves me in like last time, and I make sure to avoid his eyes. The thrill that surges through me as I take a step inside is electrical and sets my heart racing even before I’ve started to dance.
The terrace is out of the option tonight due to the rain, so I untie my coat and let it drop to the ground as I walk to the wall of glass in front of his spacious corner suite. As I turn to face him, I watch his eyes rake over my outfit. He lingers on every inch of me, and as he does, the heat in the room intensifies.
“Same deal as last time?” His voice is harsher than usual, more gravel to it.
I nod in a slow and deliberate motion before selecting the playlist on my phone and handing it to him. Without gloves this time, his fingers brush against mine as he takes it. I snap my hand back and step backwards, so the glass is right against my back.
He gives me a look before connecting the music and coming to take his position in the middle of the sofa in front of me. His legs are set apart—the perfect width for me to slide between, but I push that thought away and focus on the music.
I've chosen a more dramatic instrumental soundtrack tonight. More modern songs, but no lyrics. I need to feel the rhythm in the music to be transported, hopefully away from my own wayward thoughts.
I turn away from Landon and look out the window. My own reflection hides my view because the lights inside make it hard to see what’s really out there. But the lights begin to dim. I peek over my shoulder and see Landon chuck a remote to the other end of the sofa. The lighting transforms the atmosphere—more intimate, more private.
I kick out a hip and rotate my body around on the spot, running my hands from my thighs and over my torso before raising them smoothly in the air. After the first few moves, my nerves evaporate and the exhilaration pulses through me.
My moves flow in graceful, fluid motions and lines to show off my limbs to their fullest. It’s the most demure of starts, but I want this to build—both my anticipation and Landon’s.
The music morphs into a faster, edgier piece and with it, so do I. Landon slouches deeper into the couch, and his fists tighten to his sides. The hard, rigid length of his cock is visible through his trousers already.
He notices me looking at it. “If you want this, get over here and take it,” he grates. I sashay and twist, putting my back to him and keeping my thoughts on what I’m doing.
I bend and place my palm on the wooden floor, ensuring my legs are rod-straight before sliding forward and onto the wood. There’s never enough room to work the floor at The Priory. That isn’t a restriction here, and I need to mix this up.
As I slide my arm out, I turn to my side to watch him as I pull my knee up to my chest and then circle it in a wide arc, giving him the clearest view yet of my pussy. The move puts me on my back, and with my arms stretched out above my head, I thrust my hips up in the air several times before flipping to my hands and knees and thrusting again towards the floor.
“Get your arse over here," he snarls. "Closer.”
I don’t say a word, but I do crawl on the floor in dramatic stretched moves towards him. “Name your price. I want your fucking mouth on my cock. Now.”
Dancing dirty hasn’t ever been my goal, but watching Landon’s jaw lock and his fists clench makes me want to know I've made him come apart. I want to drive him to that edge where he’s downright desperate because my own body is as turned on as his now. I feel needy and desperate.
Still on my knees, I run my hands from my pussy up the centre of my body to my breasts to let my fingers play over my flesh and then back down again.
“You don't know how much I want to come all over your body. Inside you.”
My hands itch to slide up his thighs, to take him in my hand and let him do exactly that. I've never felt a pull so hard in my life. I'm aching for him. “Let me fuck you. Take what you want from me, too.”
But I don’t.
I twist and slide back on the floor, putting some much-needed distance between us, and then rise in a series of dips and twists.
His head drops back on the cushioned sofa, and his hand reaches for his cock. My breath hitches the moment I see it pulled out, and I back up until I hit the glass. The cold is a shock to my system but needed considering the real possibility that I could forget about my rules right now.
His mouth stretches into a smile, loose and relaxed. "Is this too much for you?" he says, teasing me with it.
I use the support to wind down and then back up, my legs scissoring open again to give him more flashes. But watching him, watching his hand grasped around his cock and his breathing ragged, makes me want some relief, too.
I come up to standing and let my hand travel down to my panties.
“You cross that line and you don't get to go backwards,” he warns. “I'll want more. I'll demand more.”
I know, but I can’t stop.
I don't even want to.
I move the lacy fabric to the side and run my finger between my folds. My head tips back against the glass in relief as my body ignites at my touch. The sounds of my moans compete with the music I seem to have forgotten as my fingers rub back and forth, swirling around my clit.
The gentle hum builds in my body, and I stare right at Landon as I feel the build of my orgasm. His eyes are locked directly on my hand, on it pleasuring myself as his hand pumps his cock. My legs slip further apart, and I slide my finger inside, chasing my climax. Only as it rises, it’s not my own hand I’m imagining, it’s Landon’s. His body against mine, his fingers inside of me.
I'm so fixated on his hand, on it furiously taking him to orgasm, that it’s impossible to contain my cry as I fly apart. “Oh, yes … yes!”
My breathing is as ragged and as laboured as his, my legs quivering as they fight to keep me vertical. And as the seconds tick on, I know I’ve got to move before I give in to more. I can only hope that my voice was unrecognisable above Landon’s own shout of relief.
The music ends, and it shakes me back to consciousness. I straighten myself up and move to collect my phone, legs loose after the orgasm. He stands up in my eyeline, making me turn and watch as he glares at me.
“Stand the fuck still,” he snaps. I freeze, unsure where the aggravated tone has come from. And then I start questioning if he did recognise my voice somehow and what that might mean. “How much? I’m only going to keep asking, and after that performance, I know you want to go further than you have.”
I don’t answer him as I see him come closer to me, but he's right—I do. “Just let me touch you. Make a choice. Stay.”
I look around, then back at him, so tempted I can hardly bear the thought. There’s a voice at the back of my mind telling me it would be a mistake, though, because it would just be that. A fuck with a stranger for him.
How many others has he done this with?
The thought slithers unwanted into my mind, and I back away from him before he gets to me. I need to leave. I need to leave before he takes matters into his own hands and I have little choice. I know him well enough. Patience isn't a virtue he's endowed with.
My coat is where it dropped to the floor, and I collect it as soon as I’ve grabbed my phone from the small table he placed it on. Leave. Go. That's what I need to do.
And perhaps, reconsider if this was a good idea at all.
He doesn't follow me so closely this time; instead, he trails a ways back, giving me space. “Same time next week then,” he mutters.
I don’t know anymore, and I exit in a rush, refusing to turn around.
~
The next day all I can think about is how I crossed a line. He was right last night. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t actually break my own rules because, in my head, it was enough. As I sit at my desk, guilt eats away in my gut because I know that I’m now in an impossible situation with Landon. It's not like I wasn't already, but last night I joined in. I actively participated. And worse? I want more. It's been almost agonising to look at him without my thighs clenching, let alone the constant wondering what his mouth would feel like on mine.
Regardless of either thing, the fun I had flirting just a few days ago has vanished and is now replaced with dread. Dread that he’ll find out. Dread that he’ll feel tricked. And most importantly, that he'll fire me. I’m pretty sure there’s a moonlighting clause in my contract, and Landon certainly isn’t above exercising those. And then, in the next second, I'm scolding myself for thinking that anything apart from a one-night stand could happen between me and him anyway. He’s the CEO of Broderick Media. A millionaire. A handsome millionaire who has responsibilities and obligations and would never date a PA.
Irritated with everything, I shove some documents to the side. It’s stupid. I’ve never thought like this before. I’ve always been secure and confident in what I do. Because I love it. When my parents died, I needed that in my life, and perhaps now, it’s something I’m not prepared to give up. Although, can I really do it forever? I’m nearly thirty, which is still young, but do I want to be a forty-five-year-old dancing in a sleazy club?
It’s a hard thought to take and one that leaves a sour taste in my mouth the rest of the day. Everything becomes a blur of people coming and going. Most of them are for me, as Landon had me rearrange most of his appointments after the FT hit. I’d hoped that last night might have improved his mood, but if anything, it’s more raucous than it was before. I know why. He's not getting his way in more ways than one. If there's one thing my boss doesn't like, it's not getting his own way.
My dress and Landon’s tux arrive just before lunch in black velvet garment bags ready for the big day. I unzip mine for a quick peek to check it’s the right one, and of course, it is—my very own Fairy Godmother moment courtesy of Nuova Moda. The image of it makes me smile, as does the quick glimpse at his tux. My car is booked, and I’ll arrive at Tallington Hall at midday. Despite the messy confusion brought on by last night, I’m looking forward to it. Dressing up, having fun …
I hope it will be a night to remember.