His Judgement Page 9

  “Close. Right. That’s a savvy word for ‘when I decide’.” Mark rolled his eyes.

  “You know me too well, dear man.”

  “Fine, I’ll let it go. What do you think about our dear Mr. Martin?”

  “What do I think?” Craze fingered the folder. Mark was correct. The outcome of this case could help advance his career or tank it in a heartbeat.

  “From what I can tell, this is going to be a ballbuster.”

  Craze nodded. “Then we have to be ready. We have two weeks until the start of the trial. Let’s roll up our sleeves and get to work.”

  “Good deal. I have a golf game this afternoon so I’d like to be done by one?” Mark grinned.

  “You have a woman or two to fuck. Who are you kidding?” Craze grinned.

  He burst into laughter. “You’re right. I’ll grab some coffee and we can get started.”

  “Grab me a cup too.”

  Mark headed for the door then stopped. “Then there’s the other black widow hanging in the room.”

  “Not an elephant?” Craze knew exactly what he was talking about.

  “You shouldn’t kid about this. Michael Trent is ready to release the photos.”

  He exhaled and fisted his hand. “That’s none of his damn business.”

  “Yeah, but the Governor’s wife, for God’s sake?”

  “I don’t need condemnation from you!” Craze exclaimed then softened. “Estranged wife. They’ve been separated for two years.”

  “But they’re still married. That’s all the press is going to concentrate on. Jesus, my friend. I’ve worked with you for years. You’re slipping.”

  While he was angry, he knew better than to take his rage out on Mark. After all, he was right. He’d been stupid thinking no one would find out. The last thing he wanted was to have Anastasia hurt. She was an innocent victim in all of this. How had the asshole obtained the photos? He’d examined them closely and knew they’d been taken by a long-range lens and while the clarity wasn’t perfect, the damning photos were enough to potentially ruin his career. “Yeah, I know.”

  “What are you going to do?” Mark asked as he moved closer.

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Well, my guess is you better soon. I doubt Mr. Trent is going to hold onto this very long.”

  “He’ll wait until the right moment.”

  Mark sighed. “The day you announce.”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “I don’t want to see you discredited by all of this. We have to prepare a statement.”

  “No damn statement. I’m not going to tolerate blackmail. You know that’s not me,” Craze insisted.

  “Then you’re a fool. You have to get in front of this. Take away his steam.”

  “But the truth is the truth. I was having an inappropriate relationship with a married woman of stature.” Saying the words made him cringe.

  Shaking his head, Mark rubbed his eyes. “Think this through. We can prepare something that won’t drag you both through the mud. I’m pretty good at being your campaign manager, you know.”

  “Is that what you are?” Craze couldn’t help but smile.

  “You bet. Someone has to keep you from going to the dark side.”

  “I suppose you’ll be wanting a raise?”

  “You know me too well.” Mark winked.

  “Get the coffee. We need to get to work.”

  “Yes, oh master slave driver.”

  When Mark walked out of the room, he turned back toward the window, palming the glass. He refused to think about the pictures. Eventually he’d have to call Anastasia, but not today. His thoughts drifted back to Joelle. He hadn’t even asked for her number. How could he? They weren’t dating. They weren’t a couple. They’d fucked. He’d whipped her until her ass was red. He’d seen the bruises, the crisscrossing welts. He’d seen and heard her tears; those of confusion, pain, as well as need.

  “Shit.” Craze fisted his mouth and studied the street below, every nerve standing on end. Whatever had possessed him, allowing his ridiculous behavior, wasn’t shocking, merely telling. He’d found the one.

  Vile thoughts rushed through the back of his mind, those of tying her down, clamping her nipples, her cunt lips. He fingered his belt, the very belt he’d used the night before, remembering the way she moaned. Visions of disciplining her, flogging her entire body raw filtered into his very soul. He closed his eyes and groaned. His body tingled. His heart raced. What the hell was he doing?

  Fucking her. Using her. Owning her. Making Joelle your whore…

  The words repeated over and over again in his mind, making his cock ache. He wanted nothing more. This wasn’t the response or needs of a sane man. He had to be out of his freaking mind. He had to be sick. All his life he’d known something was missing. Every relationship had been flawed. Not once had he fallen in love, although he’d pretended often enough. This woman, this wild and vivacious stranger had captured his very soul. The beautiful blond with the wicked smile, voluptuous body and intense need to submit had driven the dark man from hibernation.

  “Fuck!”

  “There is no chance of keeping Mr. Martin out of prison. None. I knew that.” Mark laughed. “But I don’t think you need to get that upset about it. The guy’s a murderer. He deserves to fry in hell for slicing and dicing beautiful women.”

  “Remember innocent until proven guilty?” Craze gave him a look.

  “Unless the dude has some air tight alibies, there’s nothing that will help him.”

  Craze had been kept abreast of the arrest, the horrors surrounding the slaughters. There was no way to prevent becoming jaded. He prayed to God the asshole would be put away for a hell of a long time. Something he wasn’t able to admit. “If the case is solid, no.”

  “Then why are we here?”

  “Because the entire situation is going to turn into a media circus. Because we have to uphold the law, make certain no corners are cut. Because this could make or break my profession.”

  “There’s the tiger I know and love,” Mark chortled. “I think we need to start from square one. I have everything on Mr. Martin’s accusers as well as his supposed alibies. I will also find out every bit of information on the prosecuting attorney.”

  “Meaning?”

  “So you know what you’re up against.”

  “This isn’t a war.” Craze grabbed his cup of coffee, taking a sip. Now cold, the bitter brew didn’t settle well. He was antsy, his insane needs remaining at the very surface. He had to take her again soon or he’d go mad.

  “I beg to differ my friend. This is very much a war. We just have to figure out which side we’re on.”

  The thought was chilling. The innuendoes were something he couldn’t push aside for long. “Fine. Give me the details. Find out everything you can.” As he sat down in his chair, his lurid thoughts lingered. He was going to find her. Period.

  Joelle rolled over in bed, hearing the special ring for the third time. Groaning, she shifted and slapped her hand on her nightstand, finally grabbing her phone after the third try. “Hello, Miranda. And no, I didn’t forget brunch.”

  “I tried to call you yesterday because I knew you’d manage to get lost in your own mind. I mean your case,” Miranda huffed.

  “I was busy. You’re right. I was working on my case. Remember, I have a job to do?” She’d spent hours on Saturday, sequestered over her computer files, trying to put all of the pieces of the puzzle together, making little headway. The sad truth was she hadn’t been able to concentrate. Craze. Every thought shifted to the man, the night, and her aching ass. “Since when do I forget things?”

  “Right. Since forever. Did you have a date last night, perhaps with this crazy, I mean with Craze?” Miranda asked as she purred.

  “No. I was working.” She wasn’t ready to tell her bestie anything. First, she needed to wrap her mind around the entire experience.

  “Well, you have a date with me. You don’t show up, I know whe
re you live.”

  Miranda’s laugh was jovial but for some reason Joelle cringed. “Fine. I’m getting ready right now.”

  “Good. We have champagne to drink. A celebration is in order.”

  “You want to tell me why we’re celebrating?” Joelle asked as she winced seeing the bright sun.

  “Nope. You have to make our date. Then I might tell you. Might being the operative word.”

  Joelle chuckled. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

  “Good. Wear something festive.”

  Hanging up the phone, she threw back her sheets. She was wet, flushed and her pussy ached. His cock was… “Whew.” Rubbing her tired eyes, she placed her feet onto the floor and sat up. For a few seconds, she could swear his very scent was lingering, covering her skin. She was quivering all over. She’d remained in a highly sensitive state ever since he’d brought her back to her car, wearing his tee-shirt. Her shirt had been a part of the sordid event.

  Why hadn’t she gotten his number? Because you had a one-night stand. Yeah, a very delicious one-night stand with an absolute stranger. With no condom. With no forethought.

  Yep. She was certifiable, but she wanted more.

  She slapped her hand on top of her bed and rose to her feet. Unable to resist, she rubbed her ass. The burn remained. When she walked into the bathroom, her eyes were drawn to the royal blue shirt she’d gingerly placed over her hamper. She reached out, snagging the soft cotton. Sniffing, even though his shirt was clean, his intense scent remained. Another shiver trickled down her back.

  As she carefully folded the shirt, she eyed her reflection and couldn’t help but smile. She looked positively radiant.

  The shower felt wonderful. Every inch of her skin tingled. She rubbed her ass and smiled, able to feel her marks on the pads of her fingers. Leaning against the cool tile, she closed her eyes, envisioning the amazing night. Even in the stream of hot water she shivered, her nipples standing at full attention. She smiled, thinking about the belt, his rough hands, and the night of intense passion. Then again, passion wasn’t the right word. He’d fucked every hole, delighting in shoving his cock in her asshole more than once.

  Exhaling, she rubbed her hand down from her neck, pinching her right nipple. She looked down. His bite mark remained, a yellowish glow illuminating her flushed skin. No man had ever taken her so savagely.

  As the water streamed over her shoulders and down her back, she shifted her hand down to her pussy. Her cunt lips were sensitive even to her touch. She envisioned his face as she swirled her finger around her clit then remembered his intense words.

  You aren’t allowed to come unless I tell you.

  The man was all powerful, very controlling. She repeated the move. Orgasming was something she hadn’t experienced in months. Until Friday night. Even with the sex so rough, she’d come several times. The thought left her panting, hungry. She groaned and removed her hand, sliding under the showerhead. She was already obeying him, a stranger. She laughed until she doubled over coughing.

  Joelle stood in front of her closet, glaring at her clothes. Wear something festive. She hadn’t worn anything but basic blue and gray in so long, she wasn’t entirely certain she remembered what she owned that could be considered festive. She filtered through her boring day clothes, snagging a red dress she wore only for special occasions. Hmmm.

  When she pulled out the rather slinky piece, she grinned. This was perfect. She tossed the dress onto the bed and walked toward her dresser. She had to find the perfect panties, matching bra. Spectacular underwear was the one treat she allowed herself as far as clothing. No one needed to know she was a minx in disguise.

  Red. Of course. Today she would wear the dress of a harlot. The thought stimulating, she slipped into her attire and stood staring at her reflection. The dress hugged every curve, accentuated her full breasts and hips. “Ugh.” Wide hips. She hated her body yet Craze loved every inch, biting and nipping her flesh as if he wanted to consume it.

  Lowering her head, she thought about his demeanor, the interesting location he’d taken her. There was no doubt in her mind Craze had many sides. All of them she wanted to know, longed to serve. “Whoa.” Another quick look at her reflection and she was surprised how bright her eyes seemed. Serve. The word alone was illicit, dazzling. She started to turn away. “You want him. No matter the reason, you do.”

  Thirty minutes later she walked inside the bustling restaurant. The bistro was a hot spot for folks who wanted a delicious breakfast, as well as a fashionable cocktail or three. Scanning the crowded space, she finally located Miranda sitting at a table near the corner, a floor to ceiling window enabling a true vision of the streetscape.

  Joelle smoothed down her dress and walked forward, cognizant of the admiring looks being shot her way. She wasn’t flashy, at least in her vanilla life. Her profession required anonymity, conservative methods. Shit. She loathed wearing the mask Craze had so aptly figured out. She held her head high, was careful not to fall on her face, and made her way to the table.

  Miranda squinted as she approached, her jaw dropping. A smile broke out on her face. “Holy hell, woman. You look hot? Have a date after our little brunch?”

  “No. You said wear something festive. Remember?” Joelle mused as she slid onto the seat. The heated gazes from men surrounding them remained. She felt vindicated, alive. Noticing the champagne bottle with two tall crystal stems, she leaned over the table. “You better fess up quick or else.”

  Miranda grabbed the bottle, pouring a full glass for Joelle and topping her own. “Fess up, huh? Only if you tell me the truth why you’re wearing a sexy dress and ‘fuck me’ pumps.”

  Joelle sighed and wrapped her hand around the glass. “There’s no particular reason. I just wanted to break out of my shell.”

  “This change has nothing to do with Craze?”

  “Not even remotely.”

  “Uh-huh. You can’t lie to me, remember?” Winking, Miranda lifted her glass. “Well, since you’re going to be elusive, I guess I get to start the party.”

  “Okay. What?”

  “I’m getting married.”

  Narrowing her eyes, Joelle tried to figure out if her best friend was serious. “Todd? I didn’t even know you were dating him exclusively. I thought you were just fucking three or four men of the hour.”

  “That was then. This is now. I’m serious and no, not Todd.”

  “Okay. Who is the lucky guy?” Had her bestie even mentioned one in particular? As they clinked glasses and she took a sip, her mind wandered to Craze. What was he doing? Was he thinking about her?

  “Josh Stone.”

  The name sounded familiar. Joelle racked her memory. “You mean the local musician?”

  “None other!”

  “Now you have to tell me the story.”

  Miranda took a gulp and sat back in her seat, her eyes twinkling. “I met him three weeks ago at a club. We talked in between sets. He asked me back to his place that night and we’ve been hot and heavy ever since. Well, I did have the last interlude with Todd and that taught me a lesson. I’m ready to settle down.”

  “And you’re getting married after three weeks?” This wasn’t Miranda’s normal behavior.

  Holding up her left hand, she showed off the large diamond on her finger. “Gave this to me just yesterday.”

  “Wait a minute here. You’re serious? You thought I was ridiculous for simply considering dating Craze.”

  “Of course I am and Josh isn’t a guy I followed into a bar,” Miranda huffed. “He’s amazing and everything I’ve ever wanted. Love at first sight times ten. Whew is all I can say.”

  She studied her best friend, the girl’s flushed face and quivering lower lip, and realized she’d had the same reaction to Craze. Unfortunately, what they’d shared had zero to do with love at first sight. Lust maybe. Ownership definitely. Not romance or marriage. The thought was…

  “Aren’t you happy for me?”

  Joelle fingered her gl
ass and leaned closer. “Girl, I love you and want you happy always.”

  “But?”

  “But, knowing a guy for really about three weeks before agreeing to marry him might just be a bit presumptive. Don’t you think? You did sleep with Todd.”

  Miranda looked out the window and waited a few seconds. “Todd was fun, but I’m almost fifty. I’ve never felt this way about a man before. I’ve dated white guys, black guys and every color in between. They’ve been truckers and corporate executives and never have I giggled and swooned. Not once. This man, this amazing and very sexy singer just does it for me.”

  Joelle had no idea what to say, but her inner voice was reminding her of the similarities with Craze.

  “Don’t you believe in true love?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  “You need to let go of your defenses. Haven’t you ever just had a hot moment with a guy when you knew it could lead to something amazing for the rest of your life?”

  Hesitating, she gazed out the window into the bright sun, heat rising on her face.

  “Wait a minute. Hold on here. I was right. You’ve seen Craze.”

  “What?”

  Miranda snickered. “The dress, the heels and the blush on your face tell me you met with him again. Did you?”

  Joelle hesitated. How in the hell could she tell Miranda about what occurred?

  “You better tell me all the details!”

  “Okay. I… I might have.”

  “Oh, holy crap! This is much better than my news. Tell me everything. Leave no details out or I’ll beat your ass.”

  Joelle wiggled in her seat.

  “Oh boy, this must be a good story. Talk.” Miranda’s expression was mischievous.

  “Well I did go back to the bar.” Not just any guy. Craze is a man who wants to own me. Joelle lifted her glass, licking the rim.

  “And?” Miranda leaned forward.

  “And I’m not sure what to think. He was just as enigmatic.”

  “You’re not sure of what? That you like him? That you want to see him again?”

  She groaned. “I just don’t know if he’s good for me.”

  “Why in the hell isn’t he good for you? Tell me about him. You obviously continued your connection so I hope you were smart enough to ask questions, perhaps check his bank account.”