Today was the longest, most stressful two weeks at the firm, but it ended like I never knew it could...
I woke up at 5:30 a.m. knowing that the jury would either send my 17-year-old client, Brian, to prison for 3 to 15 years as an adult, or he would get off and be released into the custody of his asshole father.
His father is a tall man with wavy dark brown hair. His skin is dark as if he spent the entire week on the sexy beaches of Miami. He dressed like a high-profile lady's man. His button-down white shirt adorned a silk tie that was as dark as his eyes. His lips...Let's just say they are soft looking and light pink. He's an Italian God, and he knows it. His ego made him the biggest son of a bitch I ever came in contact with. I hate him.
After five days of back-and-forth bantering and bullshit that goes on in a court room, the jury finally went into their deliberation. It would last all night, so the judge called everyone to go home and come back at 8 a.m. on Monday.
My girlfriends met me across the street at the local pub for dinner and drinks. I was seriously in need of some girl time and great conversation that didn't involve prisons and delinquents. Lo and behold, the Italian God that wants to pretend to be a good father to my client walked in with a woman on his arm. She was a gorgeous, tall, long-haired woman that was all legs. Every man in the placed noticed her. Her man noticed me. I looked away real quick, took my shot of Tequila, and continued talking with Lisa about her husband and the new car he just bought her. *yawn*
Fast forward an hour. Lisa bought us another round before we parted ways. The girls all left, and I wasn't ready to leave, so I stayed at the bar and ordered another shot of Milagro. I smelled the aroma of Aqua Di Gio around me, and I had to turn around and see what was making me lust after the unknown. It was him; the bastard. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, and his tie was loose. The beautiful woman was nowhere in sight, and he was sitting at the end of the bar. We locked eyes and an electric tingle singed through my body. I hate him. He's such an SOB!
The place began to wind down, and he started making small talk with me as if he didn't know me and moved the stool next to mine. Is he freaking kidding me right now? I downed another shot. "I have to get out of here," I said. I got up and wobbled into his stool and fell back into mine. I'm drunk. I asked the bartender for some water, and I tried to sober up before leaving. He politely offered to drive me home. He smelled good, I was drunk, so what the hell. He's not my client, his son is. I hate him. We paid our tabs and walked out into the dark parking lot from the back door. He walked me to his car, unlocked the door and looked down at me. He smiled and continued to walk around to his side of the car without taking his eyes off mine. He sent another tingle up my spine.
The ride home was awkward, but he put me at ease. He assured me that he was taking me home and put his hand on my knee as if to reassure me. My legs automatically opened a few inches when I felt his hand touch me. He looked down and then back at me. He didn't remove his hand. He has a raging hard on, and he caught me staring at it. The next thing I know, his hand is closer to my thighs, and I felt warmth flow through my blood. I was getting wet just from his touch. My breathing started increasing, and I bit my bottom lip at the corner. I let my eyes close for just a second, and he pulled over to the side of the road. We were talking the entire time, but I can't remember what was said. Damn Tequila. He reached over to kiss me, and I felt his fingers slide under my skirt. He felt my wetness on my panties and let a moan escape his perfect lips. He wanted me, and I hate him.