My chest rises and falls. The glass tips to the side. He swoops down, licking right between my breasts until he reaches the shot glass, then opens his mouth and tips the contents back. He goes and pours two more shots while I lay here in a trance, my insides shaking.

“Here.”

I sit up, expecting him to hand it to me. He doesn’t. He grabs a handful of my hair, tilts my head back, and devours my mouth with his. The bitter taste of tequila has never tasted so good when he strokes his tongue against mine. It seems like eternity before either one of us comes up for air. My hands roam underneath his t-shirt. God, he’s so hard. If I didn’t love every part of his body, I swear, I would find some super glue and leave my hands right here. Pure male muscle, all man and all mine to do whatever I want with.

“Keep your mouth open,” he commands, breaking away from our kiss.

He brings the shot glass to my lips; I watch his every move as he pours the clear liquid down my throat. I swallow, my nose scrunching up from the burn as it flows down my throat.

He guides me back down, then moves to the end of the bar to unbutton my shorts. I lift up while he yanks them down along with my panties, exposing me bare.

His hands scrub down his face before he looks back at my bare pussy.

“I’ve never seen anything so flawless in my life.”

His words hit me straight in the heart, in ways I have dreamed about for years.

“Now here’s the real test, babe. I’m going to eat this pussy like it’s breakfast. And you are going to stay perfectly still. Got me?”

Oh, I got you all right, you pussy tease.

I’m engaging in this game he’s playing, enjoying myself very much. But goddang, I want him naked.

“I’ll stay still and play along... if you take your clothes off first.”

He lifts a finger and wags it.

“Patience.”

“I don’t have patience. I’m a law student. A sex deprived law student who wants her husband. Now, my clothes are off. I’m naked and spread out on top of this bar.”

I spread my legs farther in illustration, reaching down and pulling the lips of my pussy apart. He looks down and then back up at me, a smartass grin on his face. Inside I’m laughing my ass off. Our lives are beginning to form into what I know will be a challenging yet fulfilling life. Both of us are control freaks, but it makes it all the more interesting. And it sure as hell is making me want him all the more.

I dip a finger an inch or so inside of me. He growls. Pulls his vest off. Yanks his t-shirt over his head. Jeans and briefs fall on the floor and then there he stands, all six foot plus of my man with a dick as hard as this wood I’m lying on. I have a perfect view of the lily stretched wide across the top.

My man thinks fast. He grasps firmly onto both of my wrists and climbs on top of me, bringing my arms up and over my head again.

“My courtroom. My rules. Keep those hands above your head, your legs spread wide, and hold still.”

I moan in frustration when he presses his cock into my center. He removes his hands from mine, picks up the shot glass, and slides his body off of mine. He delicately places the glass on my stomach, which is now moving up and down, twitching and clenching just as badly as the apex between my thighs.

“You smell down there like you want something. Like you need something.”

He strokes his dick in his hand. I lift my head and watch him, trying desperately to endure this anguish building inside of me.

“I want you,” I say carefully.

“Oh, you’re going to get me, all right. But only if you hold still and don’t spill that tequila.”

Then his head is gone. It’s in my pussy. One swipe, two. I’m not going to last long at all. I’m too goddamned turned on. Then he stops and licks around my outer edges. He tenderly rains kisses with his wet tongue down one leg and back up the other then gives me another swipe between my legs, followed by a nip of my clit.

My stomach and chest are clenching forcefully, but now I really don’t give a shit if the tequila spills or not. I want him.

He does this move one more time. I lift my head and see him bend down and retrieve a condom from the pocket of his jeans. He tears it open with determination and rolls it on, fire shooting from his eyes into mine.

I’m starting to shake. The bastard has a smug look on his face. He knows he’s getting to me.

“I swear to God, if you don’t take that shot glass off of me now, you’re going to sit right there and watch me finger fuck myself!” I screech.

“Don’t tempt me. I would enjoy it.”

Before he can reach the glass, I snatch it up my own damn self and drain it.

“It seems there needs to be some order in this courtroom,” he says huskily. “Someone doesn’t want to listen to the judge.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the lawyer who’s fucking the judge!”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Not yet, you’re not.”

“Cocky bastard.”

He shifts his body slightly, fiddling with something under the bar. All of a sudden the room explodes as the sound of an electric guitar comes out of the speakers directly above us. The deep voice of the lead singer of Foghat fills the room as he sings the opening lines to ‘I Just Wanna Make Love to You.’

The song is instantly recognizable to my ears.

I’m thrown back to years ago when we would listen to music like this, ear buds in our ears as we rode down the highway on the back of his bike. Cain used to sing this song to me, along with so many others.

He pulls my body towards him, his dick perfectly lined up with my entrance.

“The judge calls a recess while he sees the lead defense attorney in his chambers.”

Then he drives his dick straight in, slamming it up against my walls. My ass comes off of the bar as I revel in the wonderfully full sensation.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, stroking slowly.

I can hear my pulse strumming in my ears along with the erotic music as I watch him watching himself move inside of me. He continues to slide in and out at his slow pace, taking me higher and higher until I feel my back arching with my impending orgasm.

“Oh!”

I gasp when he suddenly slams in hard, stretching me even farther.

“You look like a dark haired goddess on top of this bar. I love seeing your body flushed, the scent of your pussy and the sweat between your breasts mixing with the oxygen filling my lungs. Hearing you groan and pant as my dick makes you come. I love you so damn much, Calla. Now hang on, because I need to pound this pussy. I want to own it. Consume it. Drive you crazy until you come for me one more time.”

That speech may have just stopped me from breathing for a bit, but oh my hell, he feels so good. One hand grips tight onto the edge of the bar while the other hand moves over one of my breasts, rubbing hard and fast across my nipple.

“So beautiful,” he moans. “Get there, sweetheart.”

His pounding is persistent, moving as fast as the hard strokes of the guitar blaring in our ears. I can’t help myself. I bow up, digging into the wood of the bar with my nails, I’m holding on so tightly. Cain shifts back and stills. His dick twitches and I feel the warmth of his release penetrate through the thin layer of the condom. We come together, just the way it should be.

He jumps down and pulls off the condom, looking up at me with a gleam in his eye.

“This trial has been reconvened until tomorrow morning because the judge will be in his chambers all day!”

Chapter Seventeen

Cain

I’m sitting on my deck grilling chicken for dinner and sipping on a beer while I listen in envy as Manny tells me about the M-24 sniper weapons he lifted from a fucking pawn shop, of all places.

“Shit. You better not get your ass caught. You driving them to New York?” I ask, flipping the chicken.