

### Legal Action

Surrendering Charlotte Chronicles

Book One

By Kimball Lee

This book is a work of fiction. All characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013. Kimball Lee

Chapter One

Charlotte sat at the red light, sipped her nonfat white mocha and thought about getting a massage. She didn't have time for a trip to a spa, and she didn't feel like going to one of those generic walk-in set-ups in the mall. She wanted a massage like the one a gorgeous naked man, rippling with muscles, had given Holly Hunter in the movie Living Out Loud. She needed an anonymous man...sexy, hot, and nameless, straining the front of his boxer-briefs... unfolding his massage table in her living room.

It was no good. The thought of briefs made her think of the paperwork piled on her office desk. More pressing than that was her need to be angry and aggressive, yet cool-headed and in control in the courtroom the next day. She'd spent months working on a major lawsuit and she intended to bring the jury to its knees and win.

A car horn honked and she looked to her left where a handsome man pointed at the light, which was green.

She smiled at him and pulled forward only to be caught at the next red light. He tapped his horn again and rolled down his window. He didn't look like he was going anywhere, and neither was she. She put her window down. He lifted his sunglasses, and she noticed the brilliant blue-green of his eyes, even at a distance.

"I believe we know each other," he said.

She hesitated for a minute and studied him. He was seriously handsome. He had the kind of smoldering sexuality that made her sure his body would look as good as his face. Of course, most of the men in Southern California were good looking. She'd realized that when she'd moved from Mississippi to UCLA for college.

"Yes," she said, "I'm sure we were in the fourth grade together."

The light turned green and she drove away.

_Was that just rude_ , she wondered? She almost wished she had time to flirt with him, but winning her case was all she could think about. She was starving, and she wondered if she should run through In-and-Out Burger, or if the guys would have something cooking at home. She pulled into a parking lot to call JP and ask. As she parked and dialed his number, there was a tap on her window. She jumped and dropped her cell phone. She could hear JP's voice saying hello from somewhere on the floor.

The man from the red light was standing outside her car window, loosening his tie. He looked impatient.

She panicked, checked that her doors were locked, and reached in her purse for her pepper spray. She groped on the floor and found her phone.

"JP, hold on. There's some strange guy at my car window!" She put the cell phone on speaker and held it and the pepper spray up for the man to see.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, then gestured broadly at his Bentley and held his open wallet with his ID to the window.

JP was talking wildly on the phone, "Get the fuck out of there, Char. Just floor it. Do _not_ roll down the window."

She gasped as she read his ID. "I'll call you back, JP. I know him."

She rolled the window down, looked into those blue-green eyes, then put her hands to her face in embarrassment.

"It's okay," he said, "I don't blame you. It's a crazy world. I knew it wasn't the fourth grade, by the way; unless you went to an all-boy's school in Switzerland."

"Alexander Bly, I'm sorry. My mind was somewhere else. I have a huge thing in the morning..."

"Wow," he said, "a huge thing, that sounds scary."

Charlotte blushed again and he laughed. Her cell phone rang and she tapped it and said, "I'm okay, JP. I'll be home in ten minutes."

"It's not fucking JP, and what the fuck, Charlotte? Is some pervert molesting you or what? I'll track your phone and kick his ass!" A man's voice with a British accent yelled.

"Finn, I'm fine. Everything's okay, I'll be there in a few. Goodbye."

"Listen, Charlotte, I just wanted to say hello. It's been a long time. I should let you get home to your husband, boyfriends, whatever. You look great, by the way." He hesitated for a minute, running his hand through his dark, wavy hair. He looked at her with those wide, sea-glass colored eyes, then he smiled a small smile and walked away.

She knew she should stop him. He was not only dangerously sexy; he was one of the most powerful men in the world, not to mention one of the richest. She'd met him, worked for him in a sense, six years before.

He'd been an arrogant twenty-eight year old with the world at his feet, and women at his beck and call. He was breathtakingly handsome then, and it was hard to believe he was even more so now.

_Oh well_ , she thought, _he's either still racking up conquests or he's married and ready to cheat on his wife._

She drove to her loft, parked on the street, and stepped in to the freight elevator. She lived on the top floor of a vintage warehouse in downtown San Diego with two other residents who happened to be men.

They were also her closest friends and had become her only family. The three of them bought the building two years before, converted the top floor into three apartments, and rented out the retail spaces below. One loft for each of them, although JP and Finn felt free to lounge in her living room or use her rooftop deck; and each had a key to her apartment.

They'd gone through law school and graduated together. The two men were in school on some kind of military funding, having both been in Special Forces. They'd all lived together since law school and it was assumed that the guys were either gay, or the three of them had a serious ménage-a-trois going on. Neither was true, and the constant string of hot girls in the men's bedrooms was proof. They were the obnoxious brothers Charlotte never had. The trio had a blast just being together and she had zero time for a love life.

After graduating, Charlotte had been recruited into the best corporate law firm in San Diego. JP and Finn had been recruited by the government to do who knew what; and they half-jokingly said if they told her, they'd have to kill her. So she didn't ask.

In the beginning they'd both pursued her romantically, until she'd marched into their college dorm room, ripped the pages of American Jock off the wall, and told them to " _get the fuck over it_." After that the three of them had become inseparable buddies and even shared a little house the last two years of law school. Of course the guys had replaced the magazine pages on the wall just to piss her off, and because every red-blooded American boy (or British, as was the case with Finn) had her scandalous photo layout on display.

The article happened to have appeared in Alexander Bly's magazine...one of them, anyway. Bly Publishing owned more magazines and newspapers than any other single corporation in the world. _Bly_ , she thought, and she could still see the look in those wide, sexy eyes all those years ago at the photo shoot.

It had been a closed set, and only persons of absolute importance were allowed - at Charlotte's insistence. But how could she refuse to allow Alexander Bly? He'd agreed to the astronomical fee she demanded although she wasn't a model, just a college cheerleader who was engaged to an NFL quarterback. She knew the school would kick her out when she made the cover, naked. Well, naked except for her famous football player fiancé's arm and hand covering strategic areas. The inside shots were as explicit as the cover, and although the pictures left something to the imagination, the sexual tension on the pages was palpable.

She married the football player - Jorgen Christiansen - a seriously hot, Viking God. As soon as the photo shoot was finished they'd flown to Las Vegas to a cheesy wedding chapel and Elvis had tied the knot.

Jorgen was playing for the San Diego Chargers, and she'd just been accepted to law school at USD the following year, so it was a dream. It lasted from September to May and that quick she'd had enough of his alpha-male, domineering bullshit. They'd divorced over the summer before she entered law school, but they talked on the phone still. He was traded to the Miami Dolphins and was always offering to send the team jet for her. He'd become a celebrity with his Nordic good looks and athletic prowess. But she knew he'd want sex and she wasn't going back there.

Alexander Bly had watched the photo shoot. To be specific, he'd watched _her_.

She'd been conscious of his eyes on her, but then there was Jorgen with his shoulder length blond hair and long, chiseled body. He was the first lover she'd allowed herself to have. He whispered things in her ear as they posed for the camera, held her with his sky blue eyes, pale stubble on his strong, square chin. She was twenty-one and he was twenty-five, and they were _HOT_ for each other. The world had melted away as they had contorted and practically had sex for the camera. When the magazine hit the newsstands the whole world loved it.

She was expelled from Ole Miss, but UCLA accepted her readily, dazzled by her beauty and instant fame.

They'd welcomed her onto the cheerleading squad with a full scholarship, which she needed to complete her degree. The money from the famous magazine layout was socked away to pay for law school.

She received dozens of offers to model and even do a TV pilot, but she turned them all down. She intended to be a barracuda lawyer someday, and she didn't need a string of American Jock covers haunting her.

She'd had seriously harsh words with Alexander Bly the last time she laid eyes on him. She'd adamantly refused to put on a bit of dental floss and do the magazine's yearly swim suit edition.

He wasn't used to taking no for an answer, he told her; and she said she was glad she could introduce him to a new experience. His eyes had flamed then. She'd never forget it. In them was a mixture of fury and pure sexual need, and he'd said she might make a hell of a lawyer after all.

She shook his hand as she left his office and felt the chemistry between them as they said good-bye. When she walked across the massive penthouse office and stepped into the elevator, she looked up as she pressed the button, and he still stood at his office door watching her.

She'd gone to her tiny apartment, locked the door, and masturbated to the sound of his voice in her head as they'd argued. She loved a good argument and she always wanted sex afterword, although - too often - there was only her vibrator. She knew then, as she pictured his beguiling eyes, that she wanted to be a great lawyer and test her wits against powerful men. As her hand slipped between her legs, she wanted to call him up and say, "I'll do your demeaning photo shoot if your cock is as powerful as you are."

The phone had rung just then, as she was shuddering with release; and she answered it without thinking.

"Charlotte," Alexander Bly's voice was gruff as he spoke, "I'd like to see you, socially."

"No," she said, and her voice was husky, her breath coming in gasps.

"I'll come meet you now," he said. "Where are you? Wait for me, Charlotte."

"Too, late," she said, and hung up the phone.

She shook those thoughts from her mind as she walked through the door of her loft. JP was cooking something that smelled delicious, and Finn was shouting at the British footballers on TV. She dropped her briefcase and purse, kicked off her shoes, and lay down on the sofa with her feet in Finn's lap.

JP leaned over the sofa, handed her a martini and said, "Here ya go, love of my life."

"The martini, I'm sure you mean," she said, and he laughed as he went back to his cooking.

Finn was still yelling at the TV and she couldn't help it...she loved his British accent. Maybe it was the Southern girl in her, maybe it was that he was hotter than hell and didn't seem to know it.

She started laughing, and he looked at her and said, "Alright then, what's so funny?"

She just loved the stability of her life with two gorgeous men who were straight, and hot, and the truest friends she'd ever known.

"Score, yes!" Finn yelled, and she died laughing as he turned red with embarrassment, flashed a crooked smile and massaged her feet.

*

She dressed carefully in a white Carolina Herrera wrap blouse and a black pencil skirt that hugged her body and ended below her knees. She slipped into the black Manolo pumps that were simple, yet made here legs look a mile long. She examined herself in the full-length mirror. It was Marilyn Monroe meets Audrey Hepburn, perfect. She looked demure enough to woo the jury, and sexy enough to rattle Witt Collier, the pompous lawyer for the plaintiff. She would give her final argument that day and the case would go to the jury, which made her nervous. She was always afraid she couldn't do it; couldn't convince the jury she was right and make them see her point of view as the correct choice. She was a good trial lawyer, and although this was only her second year of practice, she'd never lost a case.

Sheppard and Sheridan was an important law firm in California. She'd been picked as a first year intern, and out of a dozen only she had persevered. All the members of the San Diego office had shown up at her graduation, and she'd been offered a position immediately.

She'd proved herself over and over. She worked tirelessly, and refused to back down in a battle of words. She didn't have much of a social life, but she was well on her way to becoming the youngest partner at the firm.

Jack Sheppard swore she loved to be backed into a corner in the court room; that the bailiff practically had to call the paramedics to staunch the blood flow from the opposing attorney once she'd had her say. The " _hell cat_ ," the other lawyers called her, and she'd liked it at first. But she had a soft side, and she wondered if she would ever give in to it. It might be nice to not always have to win, and yet still come out on top.

*

Standing before the jury, Charlotte knew every man in the courtroom was staring at her ass. They'd probably jerked off looking at it years ago when it was gloriously bare on the pages of American Jock.

When the infamous pictures had appeared in the magazine, the ' _ass shot'_ was always the one she'd been asked to autograph. Physically, it was her strong suit.

She used that now, the notoriety that haunted her, to her advantage. This was a case about sexual harassment, so why shouldn't she? Let them look at her, examine their own lustful hearts, and side with the female clients she was representing. She finished her powerful speech, and as she walked to her chair she realized that not only were Jack Sheppard and Billy Sheridan sitting in on the proceedings, so was Alexander Bly.

He sat between her two bosses. In fact, he seemed to be there _with_ them. Obviously they'd come to hear her close the case, but Bly looked truly surprised to see her.

She was aware of his eyes on her, and she was glad she hadn't noticed him before. He made her nervous. Her hands trembled as she sat and gathered the documents in front of her.

The jury was back in record time, deciding in her favor. Witt Collier took her hand and bowed theatrically, and there were congratulations and thanks thrust her way.

She glanced to the back of the courtroom and the three men were gone. On her way out of the courthouse she juggled her purse and briefcase and tried to check messages on her cell phone.

"Charlotte!" she looked up at the sound of Billy Sheridan's voice, and there they were. All three of them were standing on the granite steps of the courthouse, and evidently they were waiting for her. Billy Sheridan and Jack Sheppard both shook her hand and kissed her cheek lightly, congratulating her profusely.

Alexander Bly was staring a hole through her and she knew her cheeks were flaming. He looked perplexed, a look she'd never seen on that overly confident face before.

"Alex Bly, I believe you know Charlotte Christiansen, our secret weapon," Jack Sheppard said.

Alexander Bly was so handsome she could barely look at him. He'd been attractive before, but now he was damn near irresistible. He was tall - six feet four, she'd guess, by the way he towered over Jack and Billy - and they were both tall men. His grey suit was perfectly tailored...Saville Row, custom made, for sure. He was probably thirty-three or thirty-four now, and looked to be in great shape. His shoulders were broad, and his legs were incredibly long. He looked rather menacing as he tried to make her eyes meet his.

She didn't want to get caught in those hypnotic eyes, or let her gaze linger on the high cheekbones and strong square jaw. She made a determined effort not to stare at his wide, sensual mouth.

His hair was combed back and grazed his shirt collar, but it had a slight wave that made it seem tasseled; and he had a cowlick in front. It caused a swatch of hair to fall over his forehead and his hand kept pushing it away. That small gesture caught at her heart, made him seem less imposing and rather vulnerable, somehow.

"Christiansen," Bly repeated, holding her eyes as he took her hand in his.

"I kept Jorgen's name, after the divorce," she said, and her voice sounded strange. "People knew me as Charlotte McCall from the magazine article. It was just easier for me to stay under the radar."

"I doubt that you could ever stay under the radar," he said, and she realized he hadn't let go of her hand.

She pulled it away quickly, collected her wits and said, "Alexander Bly, twice in two days. Strange."

"I was thinking _interesting,_ rather than strange," his voice held a hint of something unsaid. His voice and his eyes made her feel out of control, made a small geyser erupt down low in her belly.

She felt herself reacting to him, her panties were already damp and it pissed her off. Why did the thought of him affect her after so many years?

Witt Collier walked up just then, shook hands with the men, and turned to her.

"One of these days Charlotte, I'll remember how very good you are," he said with a tight smile. "You have a knack for finding the weaknesses in my arguments and ripping them to shreds for the world to see. Pick you up at seven?"

"I'll meet you there," she said, and she saw Bly's jaw clench.

Witt laughed, "Of course. You run the show, after all. Exceptional closing argument, by the way."

They watched him walk away, and Billy said, "Time for a celebratory lunch. You name the place, Charlotte."

"I can't," she said, feeling so annoyingly aroused with Alexander Bly watching her, his face dark and brooding. She remembered masturbating to the memory of those eyes, her body exploding to the sound of that calm, deep voice in her head.

"Of course you can," Billy said, "Now, what will it be Charlotte? French, Italian, you pick. It's your day."

She knew she was blushing and that it always showed on her pale cheeks. The sweet kiss of death, Jorgen had called her looks. White skin, black hair, blue eyes...an irresistible Southern belle, he'd said.

"I have an appointment. A new client coming in at one, but thanks for being here for the verdict."

Jack caught her arm as she turned to leave and he laughed, "Mr. Bly _is_ your one o'clock appointment. We thought we'd bring him by to see you in action. We wanted him to know how good you are at what you do; that you're much more than the young woman he might remember. We didn't tell you about him as a client because, let's face it, you hate being remembered as..." His voice drifted off.

"Fine," she said, and she knew she sounded a little unnerved, but she was just enough of a Southern belle to be gracious. "Bertrand at Mr. A's," she said curtly. "I'll meet you all there." She turned and was gone before any of them could stop her.

*

The men were already seated at a window table with a glorious view of downtown San Diego and glimpses of the Pacific Ocean. Waiters scurried to set up a champagne cooler, and placed small plates of bread and steamed crab claws by each place setting.

"What took you so long?" Billy asked, pulling a chair out for her as they all stood up. He seated her next to Bly and it unsettled her. She didn't want to be that close to him.

"Shouldn't I sit across from my client?" she asked. "So we can size each other up, see if we'll be a good fit?"

As the words left her mouth she saw Alexander Bly's eyes sparkle and she knew her flaming cheeks were giving her away again. _Damn_ , she thought and wondered why all this heat was rising in her now.

She'd had to pull her car over in a quiet neighborhood on her way to the restaurant and slip her panties off, they were so damn wet. When she'd touched her clit it was practically vibrating with need, and she'd leaned her head against the steering wheel and pictured his face. She'd climaxed almost immediately.

She was shocked at the quickness and power of it. She sat there panting, unable to raise her head for a few minutes. _God, what was wrong with her?_ It was true, she hadn't had sex in what felt like forever, she'd had a ' _friend with benefits'_ for a while, but she'd ended it some months before. She was twenty-seven and had only slept with two men in her life. Jorgen had been the first and she'd actually married him. The other was what she liked to think of as her _'favorite mistake'._

A waiter brought champagne -Veuve Cliquot, her favorite - and they toasted her victory.

Billy raised his glass a second time and said, "And that Charlotte can give Bly International exactly what they need."

"I'm certain she will," Bly said calmly, and they all touched their glasses together.

Jack and Billy were studying their menus. Charlotte didn't need to; she knew the menu by heart.

Bly didn't look at his menu either. He looked at her, and she saw what she'd seen in his eyes years back. Lust, plain and simple; sexual need.

"So you're dating our future governor?" he asked out of the blue, and quickly drained his champagne glass.

"Witt? No, we attend events together. He hasn't decided to run for governor yet."

"I see. You're not dating him, but he tells you his political plans? How about his personal hopes and dreams?" His voice had an edge to it, as if he were annoyed.

She didn't answer, just sipped her champagne and stared out the window at the blue of the ocean in the distance.

The waiter appeared, and Bly said, "You haven't looked at the menu, Charlotte."

She smiled at the waiter and ordered the prawns; then she looked at Bly and said, "I don't need to. I always know what I want."

"At least you think you do," he said, looking into her eyes, holding her gaze in his. He handed the menu to the waiter without looking up and ordered the trout with asparagus.

Jack and Billy were busy discussing the menu, unaware of the tension between the two.

"Where are you meeting him tonight?" He refilled his glass, and he sounded more than irritated.

"The Mayor's Gala at the museum in Balboa Park," she said, twisting her long hair into a make-do chignon. She absent-mindedly pinned her hair, and she wanted to add, _not that it's any of your business_.

"Good," he said, his eyes studying her pale, graceful neck. "Then I'll be sure to see you there."

*

She looked through her closet that evening for the perfect dress to wear. Funny, she wouldn't have cared if she'd been dressing just for Witt, but she wasn't. The thought made her mad. She absolutely hated feeling that _she was not in control_ , and she wasn't. Her body had already betrayed her today. She heard the locker room banter as Finn and JP burst through her front door, and then beer bottles being grabbed from the fridge and opened. She threw the dress she was holding on the bed, leaned over the railing of her loft bedroom, and shouted at them to go away and never come back.

They stared up at her for a minute, then both started up the stairs talking about her as if she weren't there.

"Probably that time of the month, you know how she gets," JP said.

"Yeah, right bitchy she gets. It's a shame. Is that it, old girl...PMS?" Finn asked, and he and JP laughed, stood drinking their beers, staring at the pile of gowns on her bed.

"Shut up, both of you. And stay out of my apartment unless you're invited, which you never will be again!" She sank to the floor on top of a pile of lingerie and started to cry.

"Just look what you've done, JP, you insensitive bastard. You've made her weep, and I can't bear to see her unhappy." Finn sat down beside her and hugged her to him. JP offered her his beer.

"I hate beer," she said, "and I have nothing to wear tonight."

"Take a drink, my love," Finn said, "you'll feel better, and what the fuck are all these dresses? It looks like a God-damned explosion in Saks Fifth Avenue."

She took the beer and drank, shivering at how awful it tasted; and they all tried not to laugh.

"John Paul over there is an ignorant animal as you can well see," Finn said, meaning JP, who just nodded his head and shrugged his shoulders. "So tell me what it is you require and I will take perfect care of you."

"I _require_ the perfect dress to wear tonight. It's the Mayor's party so it has to be presentable, but I want to be sexy, too. Which really sucks, because I don't usually want to look sexy and... I don't know!"

"Aren't you going with Witt the twit?" JP asked, pushing a pile of dresses aside and stretching out on the bed. "I thought you didn't really like him. Are you gonna sleep with that dick-wad? Please say no. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even have a dick!"

"Yes, I'm going with him, but I wanna look good for someone else." she said, and there was misery in her voice.

"Hey, a new rooster in the hen house. Should we get all defensive, Finn?"

"Absolutely, mate. We should start peeing on furniture and marking our territory immediately. We should pull out the big guns."

"Hush, the both of you. Don't make me laugh. I'm happy in my misery." She said, and she did begin to laugh. Finn offered her a drink of his ghastly beer, and even though they were both rough and tough and had zero taste in clothes, they helped her pick the perfect dress.

*

It was a dove grey gossamer gown in a Grecian style. The neckline plunged, but there was silver cording that wrapped from below her breasts to her waist and kept it from being too revealing. It clung to her upper body, emphasizing her high breasts and small waist; and flowed around her legs as she moved.

Witt met her at the doors to the museum, smiling hugely as he looked her over from head to toe. He placed a hand on her lower back, and in they went. They drank champagne and mingled, talked to the mayor, then Charlotte wandered off, bored by the inane banter.

She stood looking at a Gauguin painting, caught up in the colors and forms; the primal sexuality of it.

"Animalistic isn't it?" Bly was standing behind her, close enough that they touched, but she kept her back to him. "You came without me again, didn't you? Before you got to the restaurant today, just so I'd see it on your face and imagine how you must have looked and sounded."

He ran his hands along her bare arms and she stood perfectly still, her heart hammering in her chest. He moved forward so that he was pressed to her as he held her arms lightly, his front to her back.

She felt his erection hard against her, and she worked to slow her breathing. She closed her eyes and knew this was going to be nothing but trouble. His erection was as huge and hard as she'd imagined.

"Why are you here with _him_ , Charlotte? He's a waste of your time. I can't get you out of my head. You've fucking haunted me for six years. I actually thought I'd buried your memory somewhere deep, someplace where I wouldn't think about you while I fucked other women. Then I saw you at the light yesterday, and I could hear the sound of your voice on the phone that day. I knew what you'd done. I could tell you'd just come. You were breathless from the power of it. I was furious that I hadn't taken you right there in my office when I knew we both wanted it. I had to lock my office door as soon as you hung up and I barely got my cock out of my pants before I was coming like nothing I'd ever felt before."

She was afraid to move or try to speak. All she wanted to do was move her hand behind her and grasp his massive cock, and then lie down on the cold marble floor with him. She wanted to see the look on his hard, masculine face as he pushed into her. To watch his face change as he felt how hot and wet he made her.

She gathered herself and turned to face him. She would tell him to go fuck one of those other women. She was sure he was ruthless at it. It would save her the heartache of a man like him, a man used to having whomever and whatever he wanted. She looked up at him and his mouth was on hers, hot and scorching, making her forget that he was wrong for her. Her hand went to his erection; she couldn't stop it.

He groaned and whispered, "Where have you been, baby?" His hands were lost in her hair, then one hand traced down her back to cup her small, firm ass.

Her hand moved along the length of his erection, felt the thick, ropey veins. She was shocked at how incredibly long it was, and searing hot. It's heat radiated through the smooth fabric of his slacks.

"Come with me," he said, "and I mean that in more ways than one. Let's leave now, Charlotte. Go to your house or mine, it doesn't matter. We both need this."

"Charlotte?" Witt's voice was incredulous.

She froze at the sound of it, but Bly didn't seem to care.

He kissed her lightly on the mouth, looked deep in her eyes, then finally moved his hands away from her and stepped back. He turned to face Witt, and she heard the venom in his voice when he said, "You should take better care of your date, Counselor."

Witt looked at her with fury in his eyes and said, "Come on Charlotte, I'll take you home."

"I think she can decide with whom she wants to leave," Bly said; and he stepped toward Witt, his voice dark and menacing.

Witt started to say something more, his eyes furious, his pride obviously hurt.

She walked away from them both, then looked back over her shoulder and said, "I drove myself here tonight, and I can get myself home."

*

Charlotte had been able to get to her car and drive away quickly. She could see both men standing in the parking lot as they watched her leave. Her cell phone started ringing immediately and she let it go to voice mail. It kept ringing all the way to her loft, Witt's name showing up now and then, but mostly it was an unidentified number. She knew it had to be Alexander Bly, who she had just kissed while she slid her hand up and down his impressive cock right in the middle of the Mayor's Gala. She also knew she should be ashamed, but she wasn't.

She'd always done what was expected of her. She'd put herself through school by working hard. Yes, she'd earned a scholarship for cheerleading, but that had just been a means to an end. She didn't care for the whole, " _look at me, I'm a cheerleader,_ " thing, it was simply something she'd done well. She had sucked at basketball and volleyball, but she was limber, and her legs were long and strong. School work was a breeze except for Algebra and Calculus, or anything to do with math. She made only passing grades in those classes, and it brought down her GPA. So she'd turned to cheerleading, and earned a scholarship that had taken her out of Greenleaf, Mississippi and paid for her college degree.

The magazine layout paid for law school, and maybe she was only ashamed of that because she hadn't meant for it to be overtly sexual. They weren't the vulgar, blatant sort of pictures in Playboy, but they _were_ extremely suggestive. It had been highly erotic because she and Jorgen were young and in heat, and that fact burned on the pages. Of course, she'd gone on to marry the man, but people didn't care about that.

Men were turned on by the shots of Jorgen covering her naked breasts with one hand, while his other hand was under her cheerleading skirt. They'd both stared straight into the camera lens and looked as if they were about to climax. It began as a five-page layout, but the editors expanded it to ten. The pictures were large; meant to be looked at and contemplated.

In one shot, they were naked and entwined on a bare mattress on the floor, her black hair fanned out around them. Another showed them from behind, standing side by side with their hands against a brick wall, like criminals. He was naked, and the shadow of his cock was barely visible. She wore the only piece of clothing, a small pair of men's white underwear that rode up and revealed the rounded bottoms of her butt cheeks.

Charlotte walked into her loft and Finn and JP were on the sofas watching TV. She wished she'd never bought the sixty-inch flat screen. It was nothing but a magnet for those two.

"Home so soon, my love?" Finn asked, giving her an appreciative glance, but not moving from the sofa.

"What happened?" JP asked, "One look at you in that hot dress and old Witt soiled his pants on the spot?"

"Oh shut up, you two. I'm throwing that damn TV off the roof if it'll keep both of you in your own apartments."

"We'd just buy you another one. We like it here. Your sofas are comfortable, and ours that hard, leather, bachelor crap," Finn said. "It seems you've run away from the ball. Could you use a drink, Cinderella?"

"Yes, and make it a stiff one," she said as she went up to her bedroom to change out of her dress.

"You heard her JP. She wants a stiff one and far be it from me to deny her."

"Fine with me," JP said, "but don't forget our deal...if she does it with one of us, she has to do the other one, too."

Charlotte walked downstairs in an old UCLA t-shirt and panties and said, "Will you two please go find a couple of eager air-heads and leave me in peace for one night?"

As the words left her mouth she turned toward the door, Finn opened it, and Alexander Bly stepped through it.

"I believe your prince has arrived, Cinderella," Finn said.

Charlotte was speechless. She just stared at Bly.

"May I come in?" he asked politely, but his voice was not happy. He looked at Finn, who was not quite as tall as Bly was, but he was ripped, and sexy, and shirtless, with all his Special Forces tattoos in plain sight.

JP stood looking from Bly to Charlotte and back again. He was just as good looking as Finn, but in a pumped-up-preppy way. At least he wore a t-shirt, but his Marine Corps tattoo was visible on his forearm.

Bly smiled coldly and said, "I feel like I'm breaking up a party at Quantico."

"They were just leaving," Charlotte said.

JP chimed in, "Honey, you always send us to our rooms when your boyfriends show up," and he and Finn laughed.

"She really does leave us out of all the fun. It's not fair at all," Finn told JP, and he leaned against the door with no intention of leaving as Bly moved father into the loft.

"As always," Charlotte told the two, "go away and never come back."

JP rolled his eyes, and Finn smiled and took a swig of beer. She gave them both such a look that Finn said, "Yep, that's the sound of the door hitting my ass on the way out. Goodnight to all."

JP thrust a hand toward Alexander Bly and said, "I'm JP Thomas, and that idiot is Finnegan Hale. We live in the other two lofts. Nice to meet you..."

"Alexander Bly," he said flatly, grudgingly offering his hand.

"Ah, the man to whom the world owes a great debt for outstanding literary achievement," JP said, and then kissed Charlotte on the cheek and said goodnight.

*

Charlotte picked up the drink Finn had made for her, took a huge swallow, coughed, and said, "I'm not going to ask how you found me. You're a billionaire; your ' _people_ ' know everything. I do want to say that I've been up since dawn, I've worked for months on the case I won today, you've appeared like a ghost from my past, and I'm beyond exhaustion."

He stood with his arms folded as she talked, and even as weary as she was, the volcano erupted in her stomach as she looked at him. He wore a perfectly cut tuxedo, his hair was smoothed back, except for those disobedient strands that fell across his high forehead and a few loose waves. The tosseled hair made him look as if he'd just risen from bed, and although his eyes were cold and his mouth was set in a hard line, he still looked like the fuck of the decade.

She really did just want to lead him up to her all white bed and let him turn her every way but loose. She sighed and motioned to the little bar set up in the dining room, and told him to help himself as she walked to the sofa and curled up.

"I intend to help myself," he said, following her and removing his jacket and bow tie. He hadn't fixed himself a drink. He didn't look at her as he loosened the top two buttons of his tuxedo shirt with one hand, and picked up the remote to turn off the mindless racket. He sat at the other end of the sofa looking like living, breathing sex in his white shirt and suspenders. He dropped his cufflinks on the coffee table and rolled up his sleeves, then leaned toward her and pried the glass of vodka from her hand. He took a drink and set it down. He pulled her toward him and simply held her to him as he sank back into the deep sofa.

Charlotte's head rested against his chest, and his heart thumped against her cheek. She could feel his huge erection, but he made no move other than to smooth her hair and let her rest against him. She didn't look up at him, but said quietly, "I'm happy with my life, I don't have room for complications."

"I believe we want variations of the same thing, Charlotte," he said, "I want to make you come, and watch your face while you do. I've pictured it in my head for years, your voice painted quite a picture when I called you that day after the photo shoot. It was the sexiest thing I've ever heard. You'll please me, too; and once we start fucking you'll beg me not to stop. Believe me, Charlotte...I'm a man who gets what he wants."

She stood and looked down at him and an instant wave of desire made her dizzy. She wanted to lift his hand to her dampening panties so he would know what his presence did to her. At that moment she wanted Alexander Bly more than she'd ever wanted any man. Her young heat for Jorgen had been nothing compared with this. The pulsing between her legs from being near him was insistent and indecent. She wanted to place his fingers on her pussy and come quickly, then let him push his huge cock into her. Just once, then she wanted him out of her life. Her career was all that mattered to her. Bly would be her first and only one night stand, period.

She handed him the glass of vodka and said, "Drink." He took a swallow and she said firmly, "All of it."

His eyes narrowed angrily for a minute, but he finished the glass and set it down. He pressed his face against her as she stood before him, reaching around to cup her delectable little ass in his hands. He inhaled her through her t-shirt for a moment, then sat back, trying to arrange his erection; but there was no way he could get comfortable.

"Whatever this is, Bly, it's not about tenderness and cuddling. It's raw and animalistic, like you said in the museum."

"You really don't know me, Charlotte. I'm thirty-four now, not twenty-eight. I want certain things. I want you."

She stopped him. "Please Bly, save it. I want the same thing you want...you inside me. But I haven't had sex in a while. I'm not on birth control, and I don't have any condoms."

He looked shocked at her words.

Before he could say anything, she moved his hand between her legs, letting his fingers feel her heat, her soaking wet panties.

His moan was a low rumble in his throat and he leaned forward, his cheek against her flat stomach.

Her legs were shaking as she moved them apart.

He moved his free hand under her shirt as he grasped her panties and tore them off in one swift motion.

She ran her hands through his hair and tried to slow her breathing. She'd imagined him for so long, and suddenly she was nervous. He threatened her self-control, and that she couldn't tolerate.

His fingers slid over the lips of her pussy, her wetness letting them glide easily. "My God, are you always this wet? Fuck, you are so ready." His voice was hoarse. His thumb massaged her clit as he tried to slip a finger inside her. His fingers were large, and she was clenched so tightly as her fear began to mount that he couldn't penetrate her easily and he didn't want to hurt her. He moved his fingers away.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I thought I could do this. Really, I'm sorry, Bly. You should leave."

"Listen, Charlotte...relax now and don't fight me. Come here." He leaned back against the sofa and pulled her down onto his lap. He held her between his legs facing away from him. She could feel his hard cock against her back and she began to squirm. His arms were around her, and one hand moved between her legs while the other went under her t-shirt to cup her breast. He said very calmly, "Spread your legs, Charlotte, and let me in. You've wanted this. Now you're fighting me because you think I'm in control of you. But we're here because we both want to be. You're not giving in to me; you're using me for your own pleasure." He felt her begin to quiver and gasp as he circled her clit and pushed hard with his middle finger. It slid inside her as she shuddered and pulsed, clenching hard around his finger. "That's it, baby, good," he whispered as he held her and she writhed and cried out for long moments, then sank back against him.

Her breathing was ragged and she was limp as he gently removed his finger. He was shocked at how tight and wet she was. His body was aching for release, but he worked to slow his breathing and continued to hold her.

As much as she'd preached about not wanting tenderness, she turned and curled into his lap, her arms around him; her lips grazing the sensitive skin of his neck. Soon her breathing became slow and even and he knew she'd fallen asleep.

He laid her gently on the sofa, and as she stretched out her t-shirt rose above her hips and he had to fight not to run his hands over her beautiful ass. He covered her with the throw that lay across one end of the sofa, and leaned down to kiss her mouth.

She stirred only a little and whispered, "Mmm, Bly."

He would teach her body to crave only him. He smiled as he picked up his jacket and left.

Chapter Two

"Looks like someone bought out the flower shop."

Charlotte opened her eyes and JP was standing over her holding an armful of white roses. She checked to make sure her naked butt was covered, and thank God, it was.

Soft morning sunlight poured through the floor to ceiling windows in the living room and bathed everything it touched a soft shade of yellow. Charlotte had decorated the loft with beautiful mid-century furniture and paintings she found in flea markets and vintage shops. She'd mixed in contemporary lamps and stacks of old books and assorted curiosities that caught her eye and begged to go home with her.

Finn walked in with Starbucks for all of them and said, "I'll wager those are from the grumpy billionaire."

She sat up as JP handed her the roses and there were so many she could barely hold them all. They smelled heavenly.

She laid them on the coffee table, sipped the coffee, and clutched the little envelope with the card; but she didn't open it. "What time is it, and what do you mean grumpy?"

"Well, he wasn't very happy about us being here, my love. I believe it pissed him off, to be exact," Finn said.

"I won't lecture you, but I hope you used a condom, young lady," JP said, smirking. "It's a scary world out there!"

Just then a young woman wearing nothing but a Marine Corps t-shirt and a sleepy smile wandered through the open front door.

"Finn? JP?" she called out.

Charlotte rolled her eyes and said, "They're over here, dear," as the men tried to shush her.

She was a pretty girl, but wild looking; with black-rimmed eyes and tattoos running down both arms.

"Hey, did you get me some coffee, too? Why don't we go back to bed for a while?" the girl purred.

"They'll be right with you, honey. I'm sure they've got some lethal weapons they're just dying to show you!" Charlotte said.

The girl smiled and left the loft, and JP and Finn laughed at Charlotte's little joke.

"You two are just nasty, you know that? Did you both sleep with her?"

They got up to leave, and JP said over his shoulder, "I wore a condom."

Finn said, "So did I... several times."

*

Charlotte opened the card after she'd showered and dried her hair. She lay on her pretty, pillow-strewn bed, and looked out at San Diego beyond her windows; it was a city she truly loved. It was bright and exciting, it pulsed with life, and the weather was fabulous almost every day. She would never go back to Mississippi. It had meant poverty, and welfare, and foster homes. Her cell phone was ringing again. She'd missed five calls so far... one from Witt and four from Alexander Bly. She knew she owed Witt an apology and she should call him, but he was not the man she couldn't stop thinking about.

She read the card that had come with the roses, " _Don't come without me ever again, A.B."_ The words made her face hot and the thought of him made her want to do exactly what he'd just told her not to. She was sick of her vibrator and her own hands; she'd felt exactly what he had to offer, and by God, it was what she needed. She looked at the ringing phone and wanted to answer, yet she was afraid of what his voice could do to her. She clicked the phone on, but didn't speak.

"Charlotte, why haven't you answered any of my calls?"

"I haven't been answering anyone's calls. Thank you for the roses, Bly. And thank you for... last night."

"You're welcome. Is the card perfectly clear?"

"Look Bly, what you did for me last night was all I ever really wanted from you. I want to take care of you in return and I'll do it... gladly. However, beginning Monday I'm your attorney, and attorney/client privilege doesn't include sex. In fact it could get me disbarred."

"Charlotte, why don't you have a prescription for birth control pills?"

"Did you just hear what I told you? I'm representing you, and even if I had a contraceptive and swallowed it right this minute it wouldn't be effective for a few days. _A few days_ , Bly, that's _at least a day or two_ _past Monday_!"

"I can hire a different attorney, Charlotte. I want you as my lover."

"So you'll call Sheppard and Sheridan and say you'd rather fuck me than work with me? If that's it, just get over here now. We'll do it and I'll see you at the office on Monday."

"Charlotte, calm down. That's not what I'm saying at all. The case can be postponed for a while. Fuck, I'll settle it out of court if that's what it takes to have you. Now, there are things we need to discuss. I'm downstairs in my car right now. Come down here. We're going for a drive."

The phone went dead and she wanted to throw it across the room. He was the same self-centered arrogant bastard he'd been when she'd first met him. He wanted what he wanted. Well, he could forget it. She wasn't a damned call girl.

She had the feeling he wasn't going to leave, not without a confrontation. So she pulled her hair into a high, sleek ponytail, applied mascara and lip gloss, slipped into a strappy little sundress and sandals and went downstairs. She was mad as hell and intended to let him know it; but then, _there he was._

He was leaning against a black Mercedes SUV. He wore faded jeans, a black t-shirt, and Ray-Bans. His wavy hair was loose and wild, and with his arms crossed, his biceps bulging, she suddenly wanted to run her hands over his body; feel the broad shoulders and hard chest she'd fallen asleep against, and linger on the rippling stomach muscles she'd only touched for a moment before she'd fallen asleep. Then she would let her hands move lower, unfasten the button on his jeans...

His head was back as if he were he were deep in thought as she walked toward him.

She noticed the outline of his cock through the fabric of his jeans. It wasn't erect, it was just _large_. It lay against his left leg and it hung _low_. She realized that not only had she stopped in her tracks to stare at it, but it was growing. She jerked her eyes to his face and he was watching her. He'd seen her standing in the street studying him like a common slut. Her face grew so hot that she turned to go back inside, but he caught her and pulled her against him.

"It's alright, we'll figure it out," he whispered.

She couldn't stop herself from turning her face up to him. He ran the tips of his fingers across her cheek, her lips; the smooth line of her jaw.

He let his fingers linger on her lips, and she caught them and kissed the tips. He kissed her eyes and forehead, then led her to the SUV and opened the door for her.

"Do you get sea sick?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"Good, I have things I want to talk to you about, Charlotte. This is exhilarating and frightening for both of us, I believe. But we'll make sense of it if we both set our doubts aside and listen to each other. I realize that being a lawyer is the most important thing to you, and I get it. You're a year younger than I was when I first met you, and back then work was everything to me. Of course I slept with every woman I found the least bit attractive as well; but I was careful, always. We'll talk more about that on the boat. I'm just saying don't turn away from us and be sorry later that you did."

"Boat," she said, "what boat?"

"My boat, we're going out on it, we'll spend the night on the ocean, it's the best sleep you'll ever have. The rocking of the boat is hypnotic. It'll be just us in our own little world."

"I didn't bring any clothes. I don't have a swim suit."

He pointed to the back seat, and it was covered with bags from Saks and Neiman Marcus.

"You went shopping?"

"Well, I was lucky, I knew a busy lawyer would have a personal shopper at Saks or Neiman's, and of course you do."

Charlotte smiled in spite of herself. _Clever man_.

The "boat" was huge of course. A yacht without question, but why should that have surprised her?

He told her there would only be a crew of five so they would have more privacy, and she laughed at that.

"Five people to wait on two people, isn't that more than enough?" she asked.

There was the captain, the cook, the valet, a maid and a security guard. That was roughing it as far as Alexander Bly was concerned.

For lunch they were served Blue Crab bisque, lobster rolls, and champagne at an elegantly set table on deck as the two hundred and thirty foot yacht cut through the water toward the open sea.

She felt relaxed and content with the wind on her face, and they sat under a large canvas canopy to protect her 'porcelain skin' as he called it. She was tipsy right away from the champagne so early in the day. She knelt beside him, and pulled his cheek to hers, and whispered in his ear that she wanted him to make love to her only once, and she wanted him to do it right that minute.

He led her into the main salon, sat her down, moved to the other end of the butter-soft, leather sofa, and said they needed to discuss some things. The valet brought them ice water to help clear her head, and Bly told him they needed complete privacy for a while. When he turned back to Charlotte, his face was serious. He asked her to please not freak out as he handed her a prescription package. It was a refill of her birth control pills.

"What, where, how?" was all she could manage.

"Charlotte, many things are possible for a man in my position. I'm sure you know that. We need these because I'm going to make love to you without a condom, and I think we should use birth control. In the beginning, at least."

Charlotte looked at him as if he were speaking another language. What the hell did that mean? They might want to use birth control _in the beginning_? Was he kidnapping her and she wasn't aware of it? Did he expect to keep her barefoot and pregnant on the opulent yacht he called a boat for the rest of her life?

She stood up and began to pace the room. "You're right, I'm a little freaked out right now. Hurry Bly. Help me understand before I jump overboard."

"I will," he said, "but take one of the pills first. The pharmacist explained that they can be started on any day of the week, and will be completely effective by day three. Please don't look at me like that. Hear me out, but swallow the pill. What can it hurt?"

It really made her furious that he had taken control over her reproductive cycle, but she did need sex. In fact, the only reason she'd stopped taking the pills was because there was no one she'd wanted to sleep with. Now here he was, looking out for her, desirable as hell, and with a cock that made her mouth water. She had to admit, she'd never been into giving blow jobs, but she was dying to taste him and explore his massive size with her tongue.

She blushed and looked away from him. She felt her mind had calmed, but her body was heating up. She knew it...things were already getting complicated. She took one of the pills and swallowed it with a sip of water.

"That's my girl," he said, and crossed to where she was sitting. Before he could lift her to him she pressed her face against his jeans then turned her mouth so that she felt the outline of his cock and nuzzled, then nipped at it with her teeth.

He groaned as it instantly filled, and she moved her hands to the front of his jeans, lifting her eyes to his to let him see the wonder on her face.

He forced himself away from her, walked to the far side of the room and said, "Charlotte, don't test me, I'm not that strong right now. I need to finish explaining some things to you. I've never wanted a woman the way I want you. Maybe it's just chemistry or pheromones, or something. I really don't understand it, but I don't _just_ want to fuck you. I want to _make love_ to you, and do things to make you as insanely hot for me as I am for you, and I don't want it to only be for a day or a month. I want to have an affair, _a love affair_... with you, and who knows how long it will last? No one can be sure, and it's all new to me. I've never been in a relationship. Don't look at me like that. It's true. I've dated, I've escorted women to important events, and I've had sex with a lot of women, but none of them meant anything. It's a pretty sorry track record if you think about it. No woman has ever gotten to me or moved me. I've never fucked a woman without a condom, not even when I was young. Is that messed up or what? I was concerned about pregnancy, and diseases, and maybe I just wanted a barrier between myself and true intimacy. So, I just feel certain that you're not ready to have a baby, and I intend to fuck you - make love to you - over and over. And I want to feel my skin against your skin without anything between us."

She was speechless, partly about the love affair, but mostly about the condom part. And what did that mean about her not being ready to have a baby? Did that mean he was? It didn't matter at the moment, she decided. He'd picked up her birth control pills, so it wasn't like she was going to be his sacred vessel. She knew she was going to start her period in a couple of days anyway, so she couldn't get pregnant right then even without birth control.

"Say something, please," he said. He was nervous, she could see that. He sat across from her and ran a hand through his hair, those willful strands defying him and falling back across his forehead. He was fidgeting, he couldn't quite get comfortable where he sat, and his hands didn't know where to rest. He certainly wasn't the calm, cool billionaire the rest of the world knew.

"Where's the bedroom?" she asked.

"We need to wait three days," he said, but his voice betrayed his weakening resolve.

"No," she said, "I won't get pregnant now. It's too near my period. I have to tell you, I feel like I'm losing my mind. I want you in me, but it also scares me, how intense it could get. But I don't back down from fear; I face it. Is there a bed, or do you want me right here?"

She stood and pushed the straps of the sundress off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor where she'd kicked off her sandals.

"Charlotte, Charlotte." he sighed, and then he was next to her; his mouth devouring hers, his hands on her body. He forced himself away from her, took her hand, and led her into his bedroom. It was all gleaming wood and granite surfaces, with white and navy blue drapes and monogramed linens.

She stopped at the foot of the bed and he stood behind her, his hands on her waist. They were both anxious, and nervous as well.

"How many women have you had in here? It doesn't matter, but I want to know."

"None," he said. "You can believe that or not, but this boat is my sanctuary. You're the only one."

He stood watching her as she took off her lacy bra and stepped out of her silk panties.

She climbed onto the bed like a cat, lay on her side, and smiled at him as he began to undress. Her breath drew in sharply when he slipped out of his boxer briefs and she saw the size of him.

He lay beside her and drew her to him. She pulled him closer with her legs and rubbed against him. His hand moved instinctively between her legs, and a shock went through him as he discovered her sex...hot, soft, and so wet. He slid his fingers over the satiny folds, and she moaned and pushed toward his hand. He found her little slit and tested it with his finger, and as it had been the night before, it was clenched tightly against him.

Her hand explored the length and girth of his cock, and she groaned with abandon as she felt the pulsing veins and big velvety head.

"I want this in me now," she cried. "Please, just hurry, and we'll go slower next time. I need it."

He was working to open her, but she was writhing with need, and he realized he had to calm her and himself, or he would simply plunge into her and cause her pain. He turned her away from him and she thrust her beautiful little ass against him. Finally, he said, "Charlotte, I need to work into you slowly or you'll be torn up. Do you hear me? You have to calm down. I'm going to open you up a bit. Can you work with me?"

She turned onto her back, and there were tears of frustration in her eyes. "Alright," she said, but she couldn't stop shaking.

He pulled the duvet up around them, turned on his side and drew close to her. His leg went between hers and nudged them apart. His cock was throbbing and he was acutely aware of it, but he willed himself to think only of her and opening her easily. He said, "Take my hand and use it, you're in control."

Her shaking was almost violent now, and he put his big hand in hers and let her guide it to her pussy.

"Show me," he said and she stroked his fingers against the lips, and ground her clit against them. She came fast and hard, and as she lifted her hips against his hand, he worked a finger into her. He left it in her as she shuddered and calmed, her pussy clenching down hard on his finger.

She turned toward him and hid her face in his neck, kissing and licking his sensitive skin. It drove him crazy...her lips on him; the feel of her eager body under his hands. One minute she was the rational lawyer, intent on maintaining control, and then suddenly she was a wild sex kitten, twining herself around him, pushing him past his limits.

"Wrap this leg around me," he said, as they lay face to face. She moved her leg over his hip, and because he didn't want to remove his finger, he said, "Bend your knee and move it higher."

She did as he said, still trembling and with tears of frustration in her hauntingly beautiful eyes. He covered her mouth with his own, his tongue tasting, exploring, forcing her to respond, and she seemed to stop thinking. He began to slide his finger in and out.

He felt her stiffen as he worked another finger into her. "Relax baby, I need to make some room if you want me in you," he said; and she tried not to fight him. She was so wet that he managed it. She breathed hard against him, her little pussy tightening as if to push him out. He worked her clit with his thumb, and she gasped and sucked harder at his mouth. "Come for me, Charlotte. Let go now, let go and then I can really fuck you."

She was whimpering and her pussy was pulsing around his fingers as if it were sucking them.

He folded her hand around his pulsing cock, fighting the urge to come right then. But first he needed her to fall over the edge of reason.

As her hand explored the length of his cock and felt the insistent rhythm of the pulsing veins, she was seized with spasms and he felt her juices flow down his fingers.

He pulled his fingers out and mounted her quickly, before she could recover. He pushed the head into her hot little slit. He felt her silky wet skin against his cock, and he thought he would lose his mind from the feeling of skin against skin. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, and he fought the urge to just let go and fuck her hard right then.

She raised her bent legs and pushed up and against him so that his massive cock penetrated more deeply. She thrust against him again, harder; and he wanted to tell her to wait, but he couldn't. They were both lost in the exquisite feeling.

He thrust farther into her as she cried out and then clung to him, whispering his name as they found their rhythm and began to move together. He was deep inside her, inside Charlotte, the girl who had haunted him and ruined him for any other. He was trying not to bury himself completely, not to push too far; then he felt her sweet little pussy begin to seize around him, and holding back was no longer an option.

She was coming again and it pushed him beyond reason. He fucked hard, unable to stop himself. She cried out his name, her nails digging into his shoulders, and they both shuddered violently. It seemed it would never end, until at last they lay spent. He was still inside her, having softened only slightly, and her body refused to let him go. They stayed that way, breathing hard, smiling, kissing; feeling their juices flow onto the snowy linen sheets beneath them.

Bly slowly pulled out of her, looked in her eyes and kissed her deeply, exploring her mouth again. His craving for her was worse now than before, she was so luscious. The feel of her silky, hot sex, her intoxicating smell, her skin and hair, all made him crazy. He had never been as drawn to a woman before, and he couldn't imagine he would ever have enough of her. He had imagined making love to her, having her beg him, surrender to him. But the reality was far better. They had surrendered to each other, and melted into an indescribably blissful union.

She'd said it would get complicated, and he knew it was true. Her career meant everything to her. He would have to convince her to make room for him in her life.

Her breathing was still ragged, but she unwrapped herself from his body and moved to the side of the bed. She stood up before he could grab her and pull her back.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "We're not even close to being finished."

Her face was flushed but serious, and she said, "I don't think I need to tell you how much I needed that, Bly. It was - excuse the pun _\- fucking amazing_. I'd like to use the restroom, then you can show me to my room."

He stood up and his cock hung down his leg, still glistening with the evidence of their lovemaking.

"You're a brilliant lawyer, Charlotte; but you don't know jack-shit about men. _This_ is your room, here with me; and don't start in with your ' _closing argument'_ bullshit. It won't do you any good. We're miles from land and out here you're mine. Besides, why should I be satisfied to come in you only once? I believe you're a few orgasms ahead of me, and I want to taste that mind-blowing pussy of yours."

He could see the emotions play across her face, anger, confusion, and then lust as she glanced at his naked body.

"The bathroom's in here," he said, smiling at the blush that colored her pale, heartbreakingly beautiful face; and she followed him into a large, beautiful room swathed in marble.

There was an immense shower with multiple shower heads, a big deep tub, and a glass door leading to a sauna. Floor to ceiling mirrors covered one wall, and he stood behind her and turned her to face them.

"Look how beautiful you are, Charlotte. Your creamy skin, your hair and eyes. Your mouth drives me crazy. Your body makes me think of Venus rising from the sea. Do you see what being near you does to me?"

He was aroused again, and his long, sculpted body was magnificent. Seeing their images in the mirror, her nipples hardened and ached for the feel of his fingers, longed for the feel of his chest grazing them, as she thought of him filling her so completely. _She had to get hold of herself_ , she realized, get him out of her system. Make good use of his unbelievable, God-given gifts, and then get back to her real life before he consumed her in his.

She shivered with pleasure, just thinking of the size and feel of him. Somehow they had managed to fit together \- just barely - and it was beyond erotic.

Bly removed a robe from a hook and draped it around her.

"Where's your robe?" she asked.

"This is my robe," he said.

"On a boat like this you only have one robe?"

"I told you, I've never shared this room with anyone. I'll have the maid bring an extra robe."

He laughed and added, "I guess we just christened my bed."

She dropped the robe and pressed against him, "shower or bath?"

They stepped into the shower and their hands wandered slowly over each other's bodies, savoring every curve and contour.

His cock was full immediately as she washed it, running her hands along the length of it, caressing the sensitive head. He washed her, too, and she winced as he touched the swollen lips of her sex, so he was as gentle as could be. But he needed to bury himself in her again. He hated to hurt her and he could tell she was sore. He was going to take her anyway, over and over, until she was ruined for anyone but him.

He could tell she loved his cock, loved the look and feel of it in her hands. He'd more than filled her divine little pussy once, and he knew she was ready for it again. The feel and smell of her made him weak, something he'd never felt before. Women had worshiped his status and his cock, but the way it affected her had nothing to do with his power or his money. It wounded him that she simply wanted his body like a lioness wanted a lion. She loved what his sex could do for her and cared nothing for him.

That was definitely new, and he was determined to change her mind; make her not only crave what he could do to her body, but to her heart as well.

She'd turned off the water and, still holding his cock, sank to her knees and licked the tip of it.

His voice caught in his throat as he tried to speak.

"Shhh," she told him, "I'm not any good at this but I want to try."

She took the big, silky head in her mouth, stretching her lips around it.

"Fuck!" he cried out and twined his hands in her hair.

She licked and sucked and worked the shaft with her hands at the same time.

His hips thrust forward, although he tried not to move. He could feel himself hit the back of her throat. He pulled back, and said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," but he couldn't stay still, she was driving him insane.

Her tongue licked hard against the veins in his cock, then darted to tease the tender indentation under the head.

"Jesus, Charlotte, stop. I can't hold back," he begged.

She continued sucking and moved a hand to his heavy balls.

He shouted then, holding her head and pounding into her mouth.

She felt the hot, spicy come hit the back of her throat, and she wasn't sure what to do as she looked up at him. She swallowed as she watched the look of ecstasy on his face.

He pulled her up to him and kissed her, working his tongue into her mouth, tasting his own musk.

"I had to swallow," she said. "You taste wonderful."

He carried her to the bed after he'd kissed the come from her mouth, the exotic taste making him hard yet again. He spread her legs and licked her pussy, exploring the velvety folds with his tongue as she writhed beneath him. His tongue worked mercilessly, and as she exploded she begged for his cock; and then she squeezed her eyes shut and moaned against his neck as he plunged into her.

"Open your eyes and look at me," he demanded. "It will get easier, I promise. We're sized a little differently, but you'll stretch enough to make it easier soon."

He kissed her neck and breasts then pushed in deeper and deeper to the very end of her.

At first she struggled against him, but as he hit that hidden spot deep inside her over and over, she began to moan and claw at his chest. She seized and arched against him so hard that his cry was a roar as they finished together. Afterword, they fell into a luxurious stupor and napped, curled together, his arm drawing her tightly to him.

*

"Charlotte Christiansen, this is West," he told her. "He handles security for me."

They were in the dining room having dinner and the man walked up to Bly and handed him a folder.

Charlotte studied him. He was a slightly older version of JP and Finn. He was huge, at least six feet six, and his muscles stood out under his black golf shirt. His neck was thick and his hair was severely cropped. It was clear that his nose had been broken more than once, but he was still ruggedly handsome. He had a fighter's body and stance that reminded her of Finn, except that his face never lost its detached expression. She reached out her hand to shake his, and as he accepted it, she turned his arm to reveal the Special Ops tattoo.

"Talk about a party at Quantico," she said, and smiled at Bly.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Christiansen," West said, and left the room. His expression never wavered.

Bly flipped through the papers in the folder, then closed it, leaned back in his chair and looked at her.

"I don't want you living with those men any longer," he said flatly.

She could feel her face burning, "Excuse me? I hope I heard you wrong. Are you talking about my neighbors?"

"I didn't mean you _live_ with them, but I'm certain that it's not a good situation for you."

She drained her champagne glass and said, "Bly, you're an industrious man. You can make anything happen. So you'd better make this boat turn around and take me home, _now_. If that's not possible then give me a fucking life jacket and I'll swim."

She stood up, knocking her chair over and started toward the door.

He grabbed her and tried to hold her against him, but she was furious and she fought him. "Charlotte, wait. I'm not insinuating that anything is going on between the three of you. I'm saying you don't really know who they are."

"Really? I lived in the same house with them through law school. We shared one bathroom, for God's sake. I'd say I know them pretty damn well. Now we've shared the lofts for the last two years. We fall asleep watching TV together. They're my family, Bly. My _only_ family. Don't you dare try to pervert the situation."

"People close to me have to be checked out, Charlotte. I'm not going to apologize for who I am. There's been more than one attempt to take me hostage in order to extort ransom. Now you could become a target, when the world sees that you're with me. My sources say they're supposedly "diplomatic attorneys". But they've never set foot in a courtroom or even opened a legal file. They have offices they never go to. There was no other information about them. Then West saw their pictures. He's a former SEAL team leader and he knew immediately. They're assassins, Charlotte. Covert government agents...highly trained, technically perfect, paid killers."

Charlotte didn't want to say she'd always suspected it was something like that. After all, they'd walked around her half naked for the last four years and they had plenty of battle scars. They disappeared for weeks at a time and came back bandaged and bruised, but she never asked and they didn't tell. She felt safe, just being with them. The few times men had come on to her when the three of them were out together, it had only taken a few seconds and the offender was out cold on the floor.

She hadn't grown up feeling safe. She and her mother lived off welfare and the tips her mother made waiting tables in a bar. When Charlotte was thirteen, her mother died of emphysema. After that she was passed around to foster homes, and she never felt secure or loved or in control during those years. She'd shunned boys and embraced what she considered 'idiotic cheerleading' as her way out, and she'd made it. Although she'd avoided being molested, the filthy minded boys and desperate men in those foster homes left her with a need for locked doors, and the two men she knew would kill to protect her.

"You want me to gasp and act surprised? Or do you think they've been waiting for a billionaire to walk into my life so they could hold me hostage and threaten to kill me? I'm not surprised about what you just told me, Bly. How could I _not_ know it was something like that? If they are what you say they are, I feel certain they only hunt enemies of the government. You know...terrorists and insane dictators, not billionaires or a small time lawyer they happen to be friends with. So drop it and leave them out of anything that has to do with us. Although at this point I'm certain there will be no _us_."

"I'm only thinking about you," he said. "Your safety."

"Well, Mr. Bly, let me tell you about my safety. Thanks to your brilliant magazine pictorial of my nearly nude twenty-one-year-old body, a lot of perverts came out of the woodwork. It was okay for the few months I was married to a football star, but when I left him the vultures circled. If I hadn't met Finn and JP, I don't know what might have happened. There were plenty of psycho, hard-dicks who stalked me until the two of them showed up. Yes, I've seen them knock men out with a single punch. They'll never let anyone hurt me. I'm safe with them, not in danger."

She walked out onto the back deck of the boat and he followed her. She leaned against the railing and looked up at the canopy of stars. It was indescribably beautiful. The night had cooled, and he pulled her against him to warm her. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her face away.

"I'm not used to being jealous, Charlotte. I'm sorry. It fucking tears me up that those men are so close to you. I suppose I just need an excuse to make them go away so I can have some peace of mind. Do I still want them the fuck away from you? You're damn right. When I walked in last night and you were all running around half naked..."

"Bly, I have some good news and some bad news for you. I'll let you decide what's good and what's bad. I'm not going to be your attorney; too many complications, as we both know. Next, I'm not going to be part of your life after tomorrow. We can shake hands if we run into one another, but that's it. Last of all, I'm mad right now and that's a thing with me, I've always wanted to fuck while I'm really mad."

"Charlotte, I'm not letting you walk away from me tomorrow," he said.

"Hush," she whispered, "Let's go take care of the ' _mad fucking_ ' part right now. The rest can wait."

They didn't take time to remove their clothes. They simply fell onto the newly made bed.

He reached under her dress and jerked her panties down, and she had to fight not to come as she heard the hypnotic sound of his zipper opening.

She guided his cock to her, and he pushed hard to open her. She was soaked and shuddering immediately, and he drove into her hard as tears sprang to her eyes.

He knew he should let her get used to his size but he wanted her to remember the feel of him.

She grasped his perfect ass and thrust her hips up. As she was wracked with spasms, her pussy released an intoxicating amount of fluid that made it easier for him to move faster and deeper.

When he felt her start to pulse around his cock again, he pulled out until only the head was in her.

"You're mine," he said. "You know that, don't you? Say it, Charlotte."

She struggled against him. Her hand went to his hard cock, wet from her pulsing sex.

"Please, let me have you, I want you in me!" She begged.

"You do have me. Now tell me I have you. Tell me now or I'm done."

"Alright!" she said, and took her wet hand from his cock and spread the wetness across her breasts.

He leaned down and took her wet nipple in his mouth and sucked hard.

She cried out and arched toward him, his cock moving a little farther into her quivering pussy.

"I need to hear more than that," he said, "Right now, and I only want to hear the truth."

"I'm yours," she gasped, "I'm only yours!"

*

Driving away from the boat the next day, they were able to talk without the distractions of a bed nearby.

He didn't want her to rush in to Sheppard and Sheridan and refuse to represent Bly International. He would let them know he wanted the case on the back burner for a while. He'd make excuses until he and Charlotte figured things out.

"I'll go for that," she said, "I'd really like to represent you in court, and this sex thing is sure to burn itself out soon. It's just too white-hot to last."

He laughed out loud at that and said not to count on it. That even if she got tired of him, he felt certain her body would still grant him conjugal visits.

She was adamant that he have his people back off from investigating Finn and JP. Whatever the specifics of their jobs, the United States government trusted them, and so did she. There were probably terrorists or drug lords itching to know their identities. It was important that they remain anonymous for their own safety.

Her cell phone had been ringing nonstop and each time it was Witt.

"I'd better face the music," she said. She answered and Witt let her have it.

How dare she treat him that way? Did it have to be with that pompous asshole Bly? He really didn't even think she liked men. If she thought she could just run over him in the court room and in public... and on and on he went.

She sat there listening, saying, "I'm sorry, Witt. I'm sorry."

Bly held out his hand for the phone and she shook her head. He gave her an exasperated look and took it from her.

"Collier," he said, "calm down and get the fuck over it, buddy. Let's not make this a pissing match. She's made her choice or I wouldn't be sitting next to her now. Lose her number and no hard feelings. Got it? Good."

He'd wanted her to come to his house, but she said she needed time to think. He walked her to her door and there was a note from Finn taped to it.

" _We're gone for a while, my love. Don't cheat on me, Finn_."

Charlotte laughed and Bly scowled.

"He really _is_ in love with you. It's obvious."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "It's his weird British sense of humor. I love it!"

"Show me your bedroom," he said.

"Absolutely not. I'm so swollen right now you couldn't get that monster in me with the help of a surgeon."

He kissed her deeply and whispered, "I'm sorry, baby. We'll give it a day or two."

"It may take a little longer than that, I'm afraid. And remember the card with the roses. The same rule goes for you."

"I'll try," he said, "but no promises." He pulled a pair of her panties out of his pocket and held them to his nose. He smiled, and then he was gone.

Chapter Three

They both threw themselves into their work the next week, making a concentrated effort to give her bruised and swollen parts a chance to recover.

She tied up loose ends on various cases, dealt with the mountain of paperwork on her desk, and sat in on office conferences.

He kept her office and her loft filled with white roses. White, he said, like their white-hot need of each other. He wanted to be with her, he told her each time they talked on the phone. It had been three days, and he was at his breaking point.

Not yet, she said; and no matter how badly that most intimate part of her body ached, it mostly ached for him.

On Wednesday she had lunch with Finn's mother, Georgina, who taught at a high school near Charlotte's office. They met for coffee or a quick bite every few weeks, and JP and Charlotte usually spent the holidays with her and her four daughters and Finn, since neither of them had any family of their own.

"I worry about the boys," she said, meaning Finn and JP, "they're gone an awful lot on all that lawyering business for the government. You're rarely called out of town for a case, Charlotte, and I know you're phenomenal at what you do. Oh well...mothers just worry too much, don't they? Now, tell me about this man you're seeing. Finn mentioned him, although I didn't get the idea he was too keen on the whole thing."

"I don't know what to tell you," Charlotte said, picking at her salad. "It's taken me completely by surprise. I knew Alexander Bly when I was still in college, and then my bosses introduced him as my new client, and things have gone a little crazy."

"What about you?" Georgina asked, "Have you gone a little bit crazy over this man? I hear he has a lot to offer. Just take it slowly, Charlotte. You've worked hard to get where you are. Be as picky about love as you have been about the choices you've made so far."

The next morning, she was called in for an impromptu conference in the boardroom. Sheppard and Sheridan were there along with two legal assistants, an intern, and Alexander Bly.

"Come in, Charlotte," Billy Sheridan said. "There have been some developments with Mr. Bly's lawsuit."

She sat at the far end of the mahogany table from him. If it was really about the case, she didn't need to be near him.

His wide, blue-green eyes searched her face, and then he smiled as he saw her shift in her chair, trying to get comfortable. He knew she was already wet just seeing him, knowing what he could do to her body.

"So what do you think, Charlotte? Ask for a change of venue? Keep it local where we can control things?"

Jack Sheridan was speaking to her, but she hadn't heard a word he'd said. She'd been imagining the feel of Bly's mouth and body.

She reached for the notes one of the legal assistants had written, gave them a quick glance and began to speak.

"We'll be fine trying the case in L.A. if that's what the plaintiffs are screaming for. Bly International has its foreign headquarters there, so we're positioned well to insure that the case lands in the most advantageous courtroom. I recommend we insist on a bench trial and see to it that we secure a sympathetic judge. I feel certain that won't present a problem. Let me set up a preliminary hearing, and then we'll see to it that..." she looked at the note pad again, "...Huang Worldwide will rack up a lot of air miles between Hong Kong and Los Angeles in the months ahead."

"What do you think, Alex?" Jack was asking Bly, "I think she has it under control. Are you comfortable letting her handle things for you?"

Bly couldn't help but smile at that, she could handle him anytime. The thought of her soft, bold mouth on his cock in the shower caused him to look away from the faces watching him. He heard her laugh softly, and when he looked in her eyes he knew she'd somehow read his thoughts.

She spoke to the intern, "Would you get me some ice water? I'm dying of thirst. And a straw, please."

"Yes," Bly said. "I'm certain that she's not only completely capable of handling things; I believe she'll win."

*

She knew it was no use fighting him, he wasn't going to take no for an answer. She made her excuses at the office; said she would take Alexander Bly to lunch and let him fill her in on the background of the case. She insisted on taking her own car, and he got in with her.

"As someone said before, Charlotte, you call the shots," he said, getting in to her little Mercedes.

In the car his mouth was on hers immediately, hot and searching, his tongue pushing into her mouth. After a few moments he pulled away, leaving her rattled, and said, "That was a nice trick, sucking on the straw. I guess we can add full-fledged prick teaser to your resume."

"So, you're saying you like to watch me suck?" She asked, returning to his gorgeous mouth, sucking his bottom lip.

"Drive," he said "or I'll fuck you now, and I'm sure this parking garage has security cameras."

She wanted him to squirm a little...payback for just showing up unannounced in the conference room. "Maybe it's time for my partners to realize there's more to me than a lawyer who works ninety hours a week. I could just put the top down and crawl on your lap. You'd have to be careful, though, not to go too deep. You know I tend to lose control. I can't be trusted not to bite and scream."

He looked miserable, working to adjust his growing cock. "Let's go," he said. "It's time for you to spend some time at my house."

They drove toward the ocean, through canyons and up winding hills, along roads that twisted and narrowed. The avenues were lined with mansions, mostly in the Mediterranean style and built with fortunes amassed before the crash of the stock market in the nineteen twenties.

She drove fast, taking the curves without slowing down, the Mercedes handled like a dream. Some days she jumped in the sleek convertible and drove for hours along the Pacific Coast Highway, listening to music she remembered from her childhood. She listened to Pearl Jam mostly - they'd been her mother's favorite band - and tears coursed down her face as she raced along in her own little world.

"Great car. You might want to slow down a bit," Bly said. "I never imagined you as reckless, but the E550 V8 has a lot of power, and you handle it well."

"I work hard and forgo a lot of pleasures. Driving fast gives me some release."

He directed her to a wide street shaded by ancient palm trees and lined with waterfront estates. She turned in to a stone-paved driveway and approached an ornate security gate. He gave her a code to punch in. The house was a turn of the century Italianate mega-mansion sitting high on a bluff. It was an American palace, fit for the man who controlled most of the printed words that were read around the globe.

They stopped near the front steps, and when they got out, Charlotte could smell and hear the ocean crashing nearby, salty and untamed.

West waited by the iron and glass front doors and greeted her coolly as they approached.

"Cozy little house," she said, as she walked through a dozen magnificent rooms. "Your head of security's not the warm and fuzzy type, is he?"

"He's not meant to be. I pay him well to be hyper-vigilant."

He pulled her against him and kissed her face and neck. She placed her hand on his rock-hard cock. He found her lips, and their tongues moved together, twisting and sucking before he tore away from her and led her up the wide, ornate staircase. In his bedroom he kicked the door shut and was on his knees before her. He pushed up her short silk skirt, and buried his face against her crotch as his fingers went to her panties.

"Always so wet and ready for me. Fuck! You're in my head nonstop. I'm like a teenage boy. My cock stays hard all the time."

She moaned as she listened to him, and he stripped her panties down as his tongue licked and prodded her soft folds.

With one hand he held her firmly against his probing tongue while the other removed her shoes. His hand struggled with her tiny panties, and she groaned and stepped out of them.

She was breathing hard, her hands in his hair, her hips thrust forward.

His full mouth devoured her, his tongue found her clit, sucking, driving her to the brink of madness. His finger worked to open her. "Spread your legs, Charlotte," he said, his voice raspy.

She trembled as she did, and looking down at him, her heart beat wildly. She closed her eyes and pushed against his fingers.

He slid one into her and looked up at her, a smile of triumph in his eyes. "Good, baby. We're so good together."

She was overcome then, looking into his eyes as he worked a second finger into her. She loved the sound of his deep, confident voice. She began to shudder, and she felt her pussy squeeze around his fingers, then flood them with wetness. The intensity of the orgasm rocked her over and over, and she cried his name as he held her steady while he sucked her clit and fucked her with his fingers.

At last he removed his fingers, pulled her down to him, and unzipped his pants.

She pushed his pants down past his hips; then she lay on the Oriental rug and pulled him on top of her.

"Hurry," she whispered urgently, as she wrapped her legs around him.

"The bed," he started, but she was already working the head of his cock into her. His eyes held hers as he plunged into her, and they both cried out as they fucked on the floor. He watched her come again quickly; and still he pumped into her until she fell over the edge once more, and he fell with her.

Eventually, they climbed into his bed, beneath the cool, smooth sheets with the setting sun pouring in through the tall, arched windows. There was a perfect view of the ocean below his bedroom, and they watched the sun sink into the horizon.

He apologized that he couldn't keep his eyes open. He'd barely had any sleep all week, thinking of her. He was embarrassed to admit it, but it was true. He drifted to sleep against her rounded breast like a baby.

She studied his fine masculine face as he slept. She ran her fingertips over the high cheekbones, and was filled with wonder at his wide eyes with their thick, dark lashes. His chin was square and strong, with a deep dimple that drove her mad, it was _so_ _fucking sexy_. His mouth looked innocent in sleep, and she kissed his lips and tasted herself there.

He kissed her back, his hand in her hair, his tongue finding hers. He hugged her to him and she moved on top of him. His eyes were still closed, but his cock was full again.

She mounted it, and his eyes opened and watched her ease herself down on him slowly, working to fit him in. His breathing was tortured and his hands went to her hips, holding her up, not wanting to push in too far. She raised and lowered herself slowly, and he struggled not to move, to let her use him as she pleased. Her head went back and her long hair swept his thighs. She moaned and moved to her own rhythm. She rocked against him using only part of his cock. He felt her little pussy tensing and pulsing around him, and the sensation was his undoing.

He thrust hard into her. She had been in such a reverie that she gasped and opened her eyes. His face was wild and anguished. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry, baby." He said it over and over as he plunged his cock deep into her. He was lost in sensation as her pussy trembled and clenched down on him, and she cried, "Don't stop. Don't stop." He fucked her and watched her come again and again as he punished that far spot within her; and he never wanted to stop.

Afterward, they lay panting and exhausted and satisfied. They had 'room service' dinner that his chef prepared and two maids arranged on the balcony. The table was set with china, crystal, linens and fresh flowers; and Charlotte marveled that Bly simply made a call to his staff and such luxury magically appeared.

"Dinner for two in your bedroom. Obviously your staff is used to that," she said, trying to sound like she didn't care.

"I won't lie and say it hasn't happened before. You know I've had plenty of women," he said. "That brings up a subject I'd like to ask you about...without you going off the deep end."

He took her silence as his cue to go on.

"My jealousy over what you do when you're not with me is ridiculous, I realize that. It disgusts me, but there it is. You know I've found out everything I can about you, and not because of trust issues. I want to know everything, and I'm impatient when it comes to you. You said I'm a man who's used to having what he wants, and that's true. It's caught me completely off guard that the one thing I most want - have wanted for years - is you; and it's not within my power to make you want me. You'll make that decision yourself. I realize I haven't ever been afraid of anything until now. What if you walk away from me? Do I still have everything a man could want, or do I simply have things?

I'm taking the long way around the subject, and maybe I'm showing my hand too soon. I want to know about your former lovers, Charlotte; because it can't be possible that you've had only one other man. But that's what all my well researched information tells me."

She closed her eyes and sighed. She knew he was waiting for her to explode, to come undone. "I want to be mad at you right now. I want to get belligerent and ask what right you have to pry into my life. I should call you a crazy son-of-a-bitch for wanting to know who I've fucked. But, in some weird way, I understand. I can only imagine how many nubile bodies you've pleased with that wicked cock of yours, in this very room. I'm a lawyer - your lawyer in fact - and I do understand the concept of facts and "discovery," as the law calls it. So, it's your prerogative to find out what you need to know, and I have nothing to hide. I happen to know that you probably don't have an accountant who can count high enough to tally up all the women you've fucked in your life, but that, too, is just a fact.

I've slept with two men, other than you. A grand total of three; and honestly, it kind of sucks. But as you might have noticed, I have a hard time letting a man have control. I was just young enough and Southern-Bible-belt-stupid enough to think I had to marry the first man I had sex with. Jorgen, as you well know. Jorgen was just old-school-European enough to think that a woman belongs in the bed or the kitchen and had no business being a lawyer. We went our separate ways with no hard feelings, I'm happy to report.

The second man is none of your business...period. It lasted a while, it should never have happened. I don't want to talk about it, and if you try to pry into it I will be beyond pissed. That subject is _not_ open for discussion."

He was quiet for a long time. Then he said, "If I didn't know it to be true I wouldn't believe it. A woman who's blood runs as hot as yours, who is always wet and ready, even though you fought it at the start. Two other men is nothing. You might as well have been a virgin. But still, it makes me sick with jealousy, to think of you with any other man. You were made for me; your amazing little pussy tries so hard to make room for me. It's the most erotic feeling I've ever known, being inside you. The way you feel and sound, the exquisite look on your face when you finally take my cock and surrender to it. Making you come is the most exciting thing I've ever done in my life."

He went on, "I don't care about Jorgen, you were young and in heat, that was obvious. I knew back then that you didn't love him. He was just at the right place at the right time for you. The second man, the one you don't want to talk about...he makes my blood boil. There was a look on your face when you mentioned him. I think you loved him. Maybe you still do. I don't want that to be true. I've never loved anyone besides..." He caught himself and stopped.

There was a light knock on the door and he seemed both irritated and relieved.

"Yes, come in," he said.

West entered the room, big and fierce looking, but his footsteps were as quiet as a cat's. His eyes scanned the room quickly. He took in the litter of clothes on the floor and the unmade bed. He saw that Bly had dressed and Charlotte was wrapped in a robe.

"Ms. Christiansen, you left your purse downstairs. Your phone's been ringing," he handed it to her.

"Oh, thank you, West. I'd better check my messages. It's Charlotte, by the way, please."

He nodded and turned to speak with Bly while she looked at her text messages.

_Damn_ , she'd forgotten about her plans with Finn and JP for the weekend. They'd both been calling and texting. She thought they would be away longer. They'd be back in town the next day, and expected her to be ready to go to a surfing tournament in Malibu.

She walked past Bly and West as they talked, gathered her clothes and found the bathroom. She locked the door and dressed quickly. When she came back into the room, West was leaving and Bly looked surprised and even hurt that she was dressed.

"Why are you leaving? I thought you'd stay and sleep here, with me."

He pulled her to him, tangled a hand in her hair and forced her head back. His mouth claimed hers, scalding hot and insistent.

She pushed against his chest, breathing hard, "I have to go. I have work and plans..."

His hand went under her blouse, rolling her tender nipple in his fingers. "Stay," he whispered, as she gasped and arched against him.

Her hand went to his cock as if it had always been hers, and his voice was hoarse as he said, "That's it, baby. It's yours."

He guided her down on the bed, tearing the buttons from her silk blouse and taking her nipple in his mouth. He sucked hard, grazing it with his teeth, and she bucked against him. He moved her hand away from his cock and she whimpered and fought him. He held her hands above her head and moved from one hard, pink nipple to the other. He licked them, sucking hard, nipping the tips with his teeth.

She twisted and groaned, but he trapped her hips with his legs, his cock hot against her.

"I want you...in me...please, please!" She begged him, gasping for breath.

He lifted his mouth from her breast and said, "I want to watch you come, and then you can have what you love so much." His mouth went back to her nipple as he held her body down with his. He grazed it again with his teeth, and she stiffened and began to shudder. He released her hands and moved his cock to the mouth of her pussy. He pushed hard into her and whispered, "Is this all you love, my cock and nothing more?"

She wouldn't answer, so he fucked her hard and deep, pounding into her as she clung to him. Her greedy little pussy convulsed around him, and they climaxed together, crying each other's name.

They lay together, breathing hard; then she said, "I need a towel, please."

He stood up and looked at the sheets. "Charlotte, fuck! I didn't mean to..."

"It's not just that," she said. "I must have started my period."

"Oh, thank God," he said. "I mean, that you're not hurt." He went into the bathroom and returned with a towel to place under her. His big cock hung down his leg as he stood watching her. He looked worried. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, but you might want to wash that," she said, smiling.

He looked down at himself and said, "Right," but stayed where he was.

"I'm fine, I promise," she said. Her phone was ringing and wouldn't stop. She looked at the name and said, "I need to get this."

She answered, "Hey, are you home already? Yes, of course, I'm up for it. It's a done deal, bud! See you tomorrow."

"Where are you going, Charlotte?" he asked, and his voice had an edge to it.

"To clean up," she said as she disappeared into the bathroom. She stepped into the room-sized shower, stood under the soothing spray, and watched the blood flow down her legs. She knew some was from her period, but some wasn't. She thought about the things he'd said. Could it be possible that he thought he loved her, that he wanted her to love him? It had only been a week since she'd seen him at the stoplight, but hadn't she carried a torch for him for six years?

She didn't realize he had entered the huge shower. He pulled her to him and kissed her as the water washed over them and her blood flowed into the drain.

After the shower, she found a mini-pad in her purse and slipped it into her panties. He handed her one of his t-shirts.

In the bedroom, the bed was freshly made and she couldn't help but laugh at the assortment of feminine pad and tampon boxes spread out there.

"Well, let's announce it to everyone!" She said and then asked, "Do you keep these on hand, or did West rush out and get them?"

"I sent West for them. Are they what you need?"

She doubled over with laughter. The thought of uptight West with an armful of feminine products was pretty good. "Sorry, that paints a great picture in my mind...Staff Sargent West buying tampons. Which I don't use, by the way. They're uncomfortable."

"I don't doubt that," he said with a mischievous smile.

She blushed and said, "Thank you for all of this _stuff_ , Bly; but with the birth control pills the bleeding should be gone by tomorrow. It's a nice little perk, shorter periods. Listen, I really do need to get home. There are calls to make about your case in the morning, and yes, you're having sex with your lawyer, but hey...too late now."

He put his arms around her, hugging her tightly to him. "Where else are you going, Charlotte?"

Hesitantly she said, "The guys are back and we're going to Malibu. There's a surfing tournament. We made our plans weeks ago. It's a big deal. They're so competitive about it, even though JP always wins."

"Alright," he said and his jaw clenched. "I'd hoped to surprise you with a trip to Napa this weekend, and I can't say I'm happy that you're going with...them. I won't beg you to change your mind. You know I'm crazy about you, and I suppose I should've known you'd be difficult."

She pushed herself against him, pulling his mouth to hers; and they kissed until they were both breathless.

"Maybe we're only about sex, Bly, or maybe it's more. Let's give it some time, and this weekend I'll have a chance to tell Finn and JP that I'm finally... _interested_ in someone. That's a big deal for me. I've been alone pretty much since they've known me."

Chapter Four

On Saturday Finn won the surfing tournament and everyone on the beach exploded into cheers and applause. Charlotte squealed and did one of her old college cheers for him as he threw down his surfboard and picked her up. They yelled and laughed, and even though JP usually won, he was happy for Finn.

The guys peeled down the tops of their wetsuits and walked bare-chested along the edge of the surf with Charlotte between them.

She wore a black bikini with a white tank top over it, and lots of sunscreen. Her glossy black hair cascaded down her back, and her big blue eyes sparkled with child-like joy.

The three of them locked arms and laughed and told stupid jokes as if they were still in college. They ended up at a surf bar on the beach called Wax.

"Charlotte fears the sun like a vampire," JP told the group that gathered at their table in the little bar.

"Don't listen to him, Charlotte. You're a perfect English rose. Or, southern rose, as it were." Finn said, raising his glass to her.

"Well," she said, "who cares if I'm Snow White. Let's hear it for Finn, the great surf warrior!"

The patrons in the bar cheered. They all drank beer and shots of tequila, except for Charlotte, who drank wine coolers and gulped an occasional shot.

A band set up and played mostly old Don Henley tunes, and she danced with Finn on the tiny dance floor to the song, _The Heart of the Matter._

"Is it serious?" Finn asked. "Between you and the 'oh so serious' billionaire with the shitty attitude?"

"It's too early to tell," she said. "I don't really want to think about it now. I feel free and damn well drunk and amazingly good."

"You don't feel free and good when you're with him? I hope that's not what you mean, my love, because that's not a good sign."

"The tequila's gone to my head so I'm not responsible for what I'm saying. I don't have room in my life for anyone, you know that. Someday I will. Someday I'll want a man who can't live without me, and I want to have three babies and live in a cottage in a meadow with sheep running around. That sounds like England, doesn't it? Will you live there with me, Finn? If you're done with doing whatever it is you do?"

"Of course I will, my love; but I warn you, I'll want to make more than three babies." He smiled down at her as they danced slowly.

JP cut in, handed her another shot, and they danced like crazy to the pulsing beat of _Boys_ _of Summer_. Charlotte was feeling the tequila, and it showed.

She danced with every man on the dance floor until JP threw her over his shoulder and hauled her to the table. She thought she was hallucinating, because Alexander Bly was sitting there looking pissed as hell.

"Mr. Bly?" she said and started giggling uncontrollably.

"Bar-keep, we could use some glasses of water over here. This girl has gotten completely out of hand!" Finn shouted over the music.

The water arrived, and JP and Finn urged her to drink as Bly sat with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.

"You look pissed, Mr. Bly; but you're still _fucking sexy_ ," she said, and laughed so hard she tried to lower her face to the table and banged her forehead.

"Time for some fresh air," JP suggested. "Bly, you wanna take her?"

"Well, that's a dumb question, John Paul; of course he wants to _take me_!" Charlotte said, and was off on another giggling fit.

Bly walked her outside, and she inhaled the salt air for long minutes, letting her head clear.

"Take off your shoes, Bly. Let's walk in the sand."

"Charlotte, I think we should go. You need to come with me."

"Bly, what are you so pissed about? I had a little too much to drink. I feel better now. Let's walk on the beach then go back inside with my friends." She put her hands in his dark hair. The wind had blown through it, and he looked wild and handsome. "Come on, we can dance slowly, and I can feel all my favorite parts of you up close and personal."

His mouth covered hers, and it was so hot it seemed they would ignite and burn as they stood there.

"Why do you try me so, Charlotte? Dancing with those men, your body is like an invitation. That black hair, white skin and your beautiful, fuckable mouth. Don't you understand how sexy you are?"

They walked on the beach, and he loosened up as they held hands and talked. Inside the bar, they danced a slow dance and she told him that all the little beach chicks were eyeing his huge hard-on.

He told her the men _and_ the chicks were eyeing her beautiful little ass in the tiny bikini bottoms. He offered to buy her a larger t-shirt to cover herself, and she let him to make him feel better.

"Hey, the world's hottest cheerleader!" a voice shouted.

The group at the table went quiet suddenly; but when Charlotte turned to face the voice, a giant smile lit her face.

"Brady Sutton, just the man I need to talk to!" she said, and gave him a huge hug. "Hey, everyone, meet Brady, the genius responsible for getting me through college physics."

She introduced him to Bly and Finn and JP, told them how he'd studied with her and helped her get through enough math courses to complete her degree.

Brady knew of Bly, of course; and Charlotte mentioned the case she was handling for him. She intended to call him Monday and see if he could get his father to hear the case in his courtroom.

He told her to consider it done; that his dad would never forget having his picture taken with her at a UCLA game. "It was his brush with stardom," Brady said, grinning. "He has the framed picture with you in your cheerleading uniform in his office."

Brady was leaving, and she and Bly walked him to his car. He asked who the case was against, and she told him Huang Worldwide.

"Whoa, bad news," he said. "Don't you remember Jamey Huang from school? He was a year or two behind us at UCLA and he was always voted most handsome. He should've been voted most likely to become a terrorist. He's Huang's love child by some has-been porn star. Man, I kid you not...he runs most of the clubs in L.A. for his old man, and there are serious rumors of drugs and gun-running. Be careful, Charlotte. He's smooth and scary."

They said their goodbyes and he drove away.

The guys came to find them. They wanted to get dressed up and go into L.A. for dinner. Finn had been to Bottega Louie a few weeks back, and wanted to take Charlotte and JP. They invited Bly to join them, and Charlotte could tell he wanted to accept.

He wanted to keep an eye on her, but she could also see him fighting with himself to give her space. He was a shrewd businessman and he figured it was a gamble he had to take. He thanked them for the invitation, but said goodbye, kissed her goodnight, and left.

She watched him go and was surprised that she was beginning to miss him already. She'd put on the baggy t-shirt for him, and he'd trusted her to stay with her friends. She knew it was a good compromise; a step in the right direction.

Chapter Five

The next week she and Bly flew to Los Angeles and appeared before Brady's father, Judge Sutton, for the preliminary hearing. Everything went as she'd hoped, and the Huang jet would be burning a lot of fuel traveling from Hong Kong to L.A. for hearings.

As they were leaving the courthouse, Jamey Huang stopped her. He was surrounded by young men in expensive suits who she was sure were his bodyguards.

"Hello, Charlotte, it's been a while." His voice was smooth as silk and he was scarily handsome. He was tall and lean, with jet-black hair that hung to his shoulders; and his eyes were a luminous green. He had a classic nose that was long and straight. His lips were full and sensual. His looks were exotic - half Chinese and half Caucasian - and he was, without a doubt, movie star handsome.

"You're even more beautiful than you were in college, Charlotte. If I recall, you gave me a rain-check on dinner some years ago when I was just a boy with a huge crush on you. As you can see I'm all grown up now."

Jamey moved quickly and kissed her mouth, then let his fingers brush her breasts before he turned and walked away.

Bly moved to follow him, but Charlotte stopped him and said, "Let it go, please. We'll deal with him soon enough."

In the cab, Bly was livid. "That sleazy little fuck had better watch his step. I know I'm only supposed to be your _client_ , but if he pulls that shit again, it's all over. I have to be in Europe on the next court date. I'm sending West with you to L.A. for that hearing. It's the only way I'll be able to be away from you and have any peace of mind."

"You worry about me too much. He's just trying to unnerve us." She leaned toward him and unbuckled his belt, nuzzling his neck.

"Why did we take a cab instead of a limo?" he asked and groaned. He tried to ignore her as he called West and told him to run a full security check on Jamey Huang.

"Do you really think the cabdriver cares if I go for a ride while I'm riding in his cab?"

She breathed against his ear and pulled off her panties. She sat on his lap facing him.

"Charlotte, please," he begged, "the driver can see us, and my mind is occupied now."

She laughed and freed his straining cock from his suit pants. "Not all of you is preoccupied," and she eased herself onto it. Her pussy was soaking wet, and he tried to remain perfectly still as she slowly rocked against him. She looked in his brilliant, blue-green eyes and ran her hand over his pristine shirt and tie. She could see he was fighting to control his desire, but she wasn't. She needed his cock and they both knew it. Arguing a case in court made her hot as hell. She let herself settle more deeply onto the hard length, with its ropey, pulsing veins. She could feel the head hitting that spot deep inside that caused her pain, but slowly built into wicked pleasure. Her pussy suddenly seized and clenched hard. She was flooding his cock as she climaxed around him.

He couldn't hold back as her tight little pussy milked him, and his cock shot it's thick come inside her. He devoured her mouth as they both rocked and moaned, and finally lay back against the seat, spent.

The cab driver's eyes danced as he turned around to face them and said, "Los Angeles Airport, sir. The fare is fifty four dollars."

*

West was waiting for them in the hangar as they boarded the Bly International jet.

Charlotte could tell Bly wasn't happy about her little stunt in the cab, but he had roused a need in her that she'd denied for too long. She let him cool down while she went into the jet's marble-surfaced restroom to straighten her clothes and hair. She was wildly in love, and with Alexander Bly, there was no denying it. She loved his heart-stoppingly handsome face and haunting, sea-glass colored eyes, his hard muscled body and his huge, rock hard cock.

She also loved the fierce, powerful man that he was; and she knew he had a heart of gold and would do anything to protect her. At first his possessiveness had threatened to push her away, but he had used his sex to woo her and she had come to crave his amazing cock. Now she craved him, as well, but it had all happened so fast, she wanted to be sure the fire between them wouldn't burn itself out.

Bly and West were deep in conversation, and she sat across from them catching bits of what they were saying. West quietly told him that Jamey Huang was definitely into trading illegal arms to clients in the Middle East, and only used the clubs in L.A. as a front. They stopped talking as they realized she had joined them, and Bly told West to increase security around Charlotte.

She stayed with him in his house that night; JP and Finn were out of the country and would be gone for more than a month. Jamey Huang's smooth manner and piercing, cold eyes left her feeling off balance, and she told herself it was best to be with Bly. Once she moved a few of her things into the mansion, Bly seemed to relax; and they had fun together as well as kick-ass sex.

When she arrived from her office in the evenings, she wandered around the enormous house and couldn't keep track of all the rooms. Sometimes he walked with her, and she asked about the beautiful people in the family portraits that hung on the walls and sat on tabletops in ornate frames. He had only his mother and one younger sister, and lately he'd begun to hope for children someday.

"This will be a great house to raise kids with all its secret hiding places, and the staircase handrail is long enough to really slide down. I can just imagine you have wonderful holidays here," Charlotte said.

"I don't. I usually ski in Switzerland with my sister at Christmas; and my mother lives in Paris, so if she's in a holiday mood I visit her there. But you're right, it's a house that's meant to have a family and kids," he said quietly. "Three would be nice. What do you think, Charlotte?"

"About Switzerland, or Paris, or kids?" she asked, settling into a cushy chenille sofa in the sunroom.

He sat next to her, and they looked out across the manicured lawn to the Pacific crashing against the cliffs below. Almost immediately, a maid appeared with a tray of lemonade and an assortment of tiny cakes.

Charlotte thanked her and sipped the cold drink, taking a bite of a petit four.

"I want to take you around the world. I want you with me for every adventure, and yes...I want to know if you're going to want children." Bly said, taking his glass and moving to the other end of the sofa so he could watch her face.

"Yes to travel and adventure, and absolutely to having babies," she said. "By the time I'm thirty, I hope; but I have to find a suitable sperm donor," she gave him a wicked smile and brushed the front of his pants with her bare foot.

"I love having you here. I don't want to be without you any longer. I want..." he whispered as she stood and pulled him up and into her arms.

"Shhh," she said as he started to protest. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his eager mouth; then she called to the maid and told her the staff could have the night off, and to please close the French doors behind her.

He didn't protest when she pushed him back down on the sofa, unzipped his pants and settled herself, moaning, onto his straining cock.

"Where are your panties?" he asked. His hands cupped her perfectly round ass, and his voice was filled with wonder and lust.

"Why do I need panties? They just get in the way of what I want. I'm not going to wear them anymore," she held his eyes with her own as she rode him, so he could witness the look of ecstasy as the first orgasm engulfed her.

Chapter Six

They were flying to Las Vegas together for the weekend to attend a fundraiser that Bly International was hosting. Bly wanted her with him all the time; he couldn't imagine her being too far away from him. He was excited to show her Las Vegas, although they would have to be careful not to let his board members know he was sleeping with the corporate attorney. Bly honestly didn't care who knew, but Charlotte was still clinging to the illusion that the affair was their secret.

Sheppard and Sheridan either didn't know what was going on, or they looked the other way for their billionaire client, and for Charlotte.

Charlotte made a list, and Bly sent West and the maids to her loft for her clothes and personal items. She was deep into the lawsuit with Huang Worldwide. It was a tougher fight than she'd expected, but she relished the challenge. It kept her at the office for long hours most days, and Bly urged her to settle out of court and be done with it. But she needed to win; she wanted to wipe the smug look off Jamey Huang's face. In truth, she worried that Jamey was more psychotic than anyone imagined, but she had her ' _never lose a case_ ' reputation to uphold, so she kept him tied up in court.

She had never returned to the loft. She and Bly lived together, although she wouldn't admit it, and no one other than West and the house staff knew. She felt safe with him, and Finn and JP had been gone for nearly two months; so it was easy to let Bly's opulent world enfold her. She'd begun to lose herself in him as she'd feared, but it felt wonderful to be his alone, so she didn't care.

Finn and JP had never left her for so long without any contact, and she missed them, but she also dreaded telling them how serious she was about Bly. She knew they would wish her well, but she thought Finn might say she was jumping in too deep and too fast. He worried about her and she loved him for it. He'd told her he would probably never have a wife or child, or a normal life. His work was as important to him as hers was to her.

Charlotte looked forward to a break from the office and the constant unease over Jamey Huang that had settled in her mind. She'd only been to Vegas once before, and she was looking forward to going back. Maybe she would try her hand at gambling.

She wore a Dior gown to the fundraiser, and Bly was entranced by the sight of her in the sapphire silk. The low, scooped neckline was barely held in place by tiny ribbon ties at her shoulders. The dress was fitted around her narrow waist and beautifully sculpted ass before flowing softly to the floor.

He stood looking at her with such desire in his eyes that she wanted to sink to her knees and pleasure him right there in the hotel suite. He gave her a boyish grin and produced a box from behind his back.

She was stunned as she opened it. It was the most amazing sapphire and diamond necklace she had ever seen.

"The sapphires are the color of your eyes, Charlotte, and I love your eyes." He said, and she was speechless as he clasped it around her neck then turned her to face him. "I want you more each day. I think you've bewitched me. I want to tell you everything I'm feeling and what my hopes are for us, but I don't want to scare you away..."

West interrupted as usual, telling them it was time to go downstairs.

Charlotte was light-headed from the jewels and the look in his eyes. The sound of his voice was so earnest and loving. Her all-important law career seemed less of an obsession for her as he became more of one. She'd sacrificed so much to rise above her dirt-poor upbringing and make something of her life. Now she was consumed by the look and smell and taste of Alexander Bly. She loved the spicy taste of his come in her mouth. She would lick the first hot drops from the slit as he groaned, then she would lick and suck until he roared her name and exploded. She'd drink him down, then he'd clasp his mouth to hers and they'd share the thick, luscious fluid. She had truly surrendered her body to him. She was ready to follow his lead down any sexual road he chose.

"Charlotte, we need to hurry. I'm giving the opening speech. Are you ready? You look like a princess - _my princess_ , _and only mine_ \- do you hear?" He lifted her hair to his nose and inhaled, his eyes turned smoky with lust. "I know you're wet for me now, and I wish I had time to taste you and push my cock into you. I intend to always keep you sore and only wanting me."

"You do and you know it," she said, pressing against him, wanting that magnificently huge cock in her that very moment.

*

Bly gave his speech and introduced the head of his charitable organization, Sylvie Moore. He kissed her cheek as he turned the podium over to her, and she began to speak.

She was exquisitely beautiful, tall and willow-thin, with pale blonde hair that twisted to her shoulders. She wore an ice-blue sheath of a dress that fell over her small breasts, and she seemed proud of the fact that her nipples were blatantly erect.

After the formalities, Sylvie Moore made a beeline for Bly and Charlotte, curling her lithe body around his.

"Alex," she crooned, "is this the lovely creature that's been keeping you from your real life? She _is_ fresh and enchanting, but we all miss you. So, _hurry back_ , won't you...and play with the grown-ups?" Her eyes were icy as she stared at Charlotte and stroked Bly's cheek as if he belonged to her.

"Sylvie, I'd like you to meet Charlotte Christiansen, my attorney." Bly said peeling Sylvie away from his body.

Charlotte felt like she'd been punched in the stomach when he introduced her as his attorney. Of course, it had been her rule that while she handled his case no one know they were lovers, but she needed this blatant little _she-cat_ Sylvie to know. She pulled herself together and realized her professional reputation was at stake.

She offered her hand and said, "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Moore. Sounds like you do a bang-up job for the foundation."

"Oh, I certainly do," she smiled coldly and looked directly at Bly. "I'm sure Alex will attest to that. Now, let me see if I remember correctly. Why yes, you're the naughty cheerleader Alex made famous. I never forget a face or body. Of course, your dress covers more of you than that yummy quarterback did. Tell me, you two looked so feral in those pictures; did you go home and fuck like wildcats?"

"Alright Sylvie, put your claws away. That's enough." Bly said, his voice harder than she'd ever heard it. His face was a mask of fury as he reached for Charlotte's hand to lead her away from the gloating woman.

Sylvie's voice sounded desperate as she stared at Charlotte and said, "I've watched the quarterback in action. I can always see his cock outlined in those tight football pants. Did you enjoy it as much as you're enjoying Alex's?"

Charlotte forced herself to smile and meet the evil stare. "You know, Sylvie...I've found that women who must imagine the sex lives of others are generally frustrated over the lack of sex in their own."

Charlotte turned and walked out of the party and into the noisy casino. Had she been stupid enough to think because she and Bly were having constant sex that all the other women he'd been with would just disappear? For that matter, women would probably throw themselves at him forever. He was a billionaire, for God's sake; a ridiculously hot, sexy billionaire. She'd let down her guard with him, and it had been oh so easy to just let him pull her into his life and away from her own. She'd removed herself from a relationship before to keep from getting her heart broken, and she could damn well do it again.

Bly followed her, demanding that she slow down; but she was furious and worse, tears flowed down her cheeks. He caught up to her and crushed her to him, murmuring how sorry he was.

"Let me go, Bly. At least you could have warned me about that seething witch. How on earth can you employ such a woman, much less have fucked her? The rational part of me knows there are going to be women you've been with around every corner, but I hope they're not all that venomous." She shook his hand off and stepped in the elevator.

He started to get in, and West called to him and said it was important. He ran his hand through his hair, swiping at the strands that had fallen across his forehead. "Wait for me in the suite, Charlotte. She's finished in my company. She's history. Her behavior is completely unacceptable. Don't give her - or any woman - another thought. Do you have any doubt that you're the only woman for me? I haven't been able to keep my cock out of you since you came back into my life." He brushed the tears from her cheeks, gave her a scalding kiss, then turned and walked toward West.

Charlotte stepped out of her gown as soon as she walked in the suite. She took a tiny bottle of tequila from the mini-bar and drank it fast, then coughed as it burned her throat. She stood before the wall of windows and stared out at the multitude of lights on the Vegas Strip below. Her raging jealousy was foreign to her, and it hurt like hell. He'd slept with untold numbers of women. Maybe he'd given them jewels and made sure they stayed sore with his mesmerizing cock. She couldn't handle the feeling of being out of control. She'd let down her guard, and he was consuming her. She had to end it, and he wouldn't be easy to dissuade. Only if he thought she wanted another man could she drive him away.

She dressed in a tiny silver mini-dress. It was sleeveless with a high rounded neckline, and it swept from her shoulders in an A-line. It flared into a swingy hem that was so short, it barely covered her butt cheeks. She was feeling the tequila drive her cares away, and she changed into a tiny pair of black, silk 'boy short' panties, just in case her skirt swirled up by accident. She laughed at the thought, how it would make Bly furious. _Too bad_ , she thought, _fuck him if he can't take a joke_. She slipped into a strappy pair of heels and was out the door.

Charlotte walked into the casino, and men stopped gambling to stare at her. She asked for directions to the most happening bar, and was directed to the top floor. A line of people waited outside the bar, but she walked right up and said she was with Alexander Bly, and they welcomed her in. The music was loud and pumping, and a DJ was shouting, "Welcome to the Skye Lounge!" She worked her way through the crowd, leaned against the cold granite bar, and ordered a vodka martini. She could hear her cell phone ringing in her purse. She answered it, and before Bly could get two words out, she said, "Forget me, Bly. I've moved on," and turned the phone off.

The bartender was yelling to her over the din, saying he still had her American Jock pictures on his wall. Two men moved closer to her, crowding in on either side; but she avoided eye contact with them, leaned against the cold granite bar, and drank the martini quickly.

She knew Bly would find her. He'd surely heard the pumping music. There was no way he'd give up on her easily, but she intended to have a few drinks to loosen up, give him back the sapphires which had probably cost more than she made in a year, and get back to her real life.

Two arms appeared from behind and encircled her. They rested on the bar, pinning her against it.

"Your irresistible little ass is showing," a man's voice whispered hotly in her ear. It was vaguely familiar.

She twisted to face him, ready for a fight; and met crystal blue eyes in a sexy Nordic face, blonde hair sweeping to his chin. She smiled, and their arms went around each other as he lifted her against him.

"Jorgen, where did you come from? I thought you were someone else. No fair sneaking up on me."

They laughed as people buzzed around them whispering, but they didn't care. They were happy to see each other. They moved to a round booth tucked in a corner, sat close together and talked of what their lives had once been, and what they had become.

She told him how much she loved her job; how she'd made a place for herself in San Diego, and had achieved what she'd always meant to. The scared, fragile girl she'd been in Mississippi was a distant memory.

He said they should start over; that he was wrong to have been such an ass about her career. He knew she was excellent at her work, and he was proud of her. They were at better places in their lives now, he said; and it was rumored he'd be back in San Diego with the Chargers next season, so why not give their relationship another chance?

She said she kept a special place in her heart for him and the innocent love they had shared, but she wasn't the same person any longer. More than that, she confessed with the liquor coursing in her veins, she was certain that she'd fallen in love. He asked why she was in Vegas all alone then, looking like a Goddess, drinking in a night club.

"I don't know if it can work out," she said. "One minute I think he loves me, and then I'm not sure. It all happened so fast. I feel like I want to be with him more than anything, but what if it's just the heat of the moment? He doesn't have a great track record when it comes to love and women, and I need to feel secure before I give my heart away."

"Charlotte."

Bly stood looking down at them. He recognized Jorgen, of course. They were too close together for his liking. He'd watched them from across the room, leaning in close, whispering and laughing. Charlotte's hand brushed Jorgen's hair off his face with too much familiarity. Jorgen was constantly touching her in some small way. It all seemed a little too cozy.

Jorgen stood up, offering his hand. "Alexander Bly, it's been a while. Nice to see you. What are the odds, running into my little Chari and you in the same night? I was just telling her I'm playing in San Francisco tomorrow - the Forty Niners - and she might want to come along." He noticed that Bly's gaze never left Charlotte.

"I'm going with him, Bly. Go fuck the wicked witch. I'm sure she's hot to keep her job."

"Charlotte, you're drunk. Let's go to our room, please."

He stepped closer to Jorgen. They stood face to face. His was a mask of fury and his voice made her cringe. "Jorgen, she's with me, do you understand? She's not going anywhere with you ever again."

Jorgen backed away and threw up his hands. He looked at Charlotte, smiled and said, "Well Chari, I believe he loves you, too. So you're not in it all by yourself."

Bly's face softened then, and he sat next to her in the booth. He held her against him and whispered, "Charlotte, you've put up a good fight to keep your feelings in control. The battle isn't lost if you love me. We've both won. I love you, Charlotte. Truly, madly and very, very deeply."

In the elevator on their way to the room, she clung to him, but wouldn't look up at his face.

He felt like he had been given the greatest gift of his life. She loved him, and she'd even told Jorgen. He wanted to run his hands up the back of the tiny dress and cup her ass, but he needed her to know it was more for him than sex. It was certainly mind-blowing sex, but it was much, much more.

In the suite they made love slowly, both saying, "I love you, I love you," over and over.

He'd taken her again, against the wall of the shower, lifting her, her legs encircling him. He'd pulled her down hard on his cock, and she felt that she would split open; but she trusted him and she clenched tightly around him as she reveled in the glorious ache.

Later, they sat against piles of pillows in the huge bed, the lights of the Strip casting bright patterns on the walls of the suite. They'd ordered burgers and fries from room service, and laughed as they fed each other in bed.

He told her the reason he'd stared at her all those years ago at the photo shoot. That he'd fallen hopelessly in love with her then, and he'd had the primal urge to take her without a condom and plant his seed in her. The need to possess her had been so strong that he'd intended to tell her. That's why he'd called. He'd wanted her to meet him so he could say he knew it was crazy but she was meant to be his. That she should love him and have his children, and they would have everything, especially each other.

She slept curled tightly against him. She was his and he loved her. She was safe with him, and so was her heart.

She rose early the next morning, dressed in jeans, t-shirt and sneakers and put her hair in a ponytail. She wanted to try her hand at gambling before they left, so she grabbed her phone and her wallet and took the elevator to the casino. She played a few slot machines. It was up and down, and it bored her. She walked out onto the Strip and breathed in the air. She felt a pinch at her neck, and everything went black.

By late afternoon, when Charlotte couldn't be found, Bly was in a panic. He had the entire hotel staff and the police looking for her.

West reviewed the security tapes, and three of Jamey Huang's men had been in the casino. The cameras showed that she'd walked outside after gambling, and they had followed her. The trail ended there, and her cell phone was going straight to voice mail. He alerted the highway patrol and the Las Vegas and L.A. police departments, as well as airport security nationwide.

The call came the next day from Jamey Huang. He wanted to meet Alexander Bly face to face and make his demands. No law enforcement would be involved or Charlotte would die. It was arranged for him to come to Bly's mansion with only one of his men. He felt that would be sufficient since he held all the cards.

*

Huang looked perfectly at ease sitting in Bly's formal living room. He smiled serenely, sure of himself as he watched the powerful Alexander Bly sweat.

"You don't quite understand, Mr. Bly. It would be simple if all I wanted was your money or your life, or only to fuck your gorgeous girlfriend. Even as extraordinary as she is, none of those things fill my needs. I suppose it was a lucky twist of fate that your case brought Charlotte into my sphere of consciousness. Oh, it took a lot of digging. Perhaps your own sources overlooked the connection. You see, I want to kill a man. A man who has become a serious thorn in my side, and he will only come to me in order to save her. I will put your mind at ease by telling you that she ended it with him long before she knew you. The good news for me is that he has never been able to move past his love for her. So you see, Mr. Bly...she is the perfect bait. He has nearly ruined my nice little arms-dealing business. He has ruthlessly killed my men and my foreign clients, and he has been impossible to stop. I want him to surrender himself to me so that I can torture him for a good, long while before I kill him. Your job is to convey my message that his beloved will remain untouched; although she will also be naked and drugged just to take the edge off her hell-cat tendencies."

He touched the deep scratch marks that marred his face. "She will be returned to you, Mr. Bly. You can ride off into the sunset with her and live happily ever after if that is what you wish. However you must come to Hong Kong to collect her. Here is the address where we will make the trade in two days' time." He handed a slip of paper to Bly. "An easy trade, Mr. Bly. I'm sure he'll agree to it quickly when he knows that I have her. If you want her alive and... intact, you will bring me Finnegan Hale."

Bly was shocked beyond what he thought was possible. He was livid that West had failed to discover that Finn had been the man from Charlotte's past. He felt it was his own fault that he'd kept her away from her friends so that Finn didn't know she had come in contact with Jamey Huang. He'd felt powerless in the face of his love for Charlotte, and now he felt powerless to do anything to save her, other than to hand over a man who would be tortured and murdered.

How would Charlotte be able to live with that? Bly knew she loved him as he loved her, but he also knew she cared for her former lover; was in fact still his best friend. The thought of her drugged and on her way to China made him want to cry for the first time since he was a little boy. Imagining Jamey Huang's young thugs gathered around her, seeing her naked... he couldn't stand to think about it.

West used all his connections to locate JP and give him the news. JP, it turned out, was in charge of organizing the details of an operation once a target was located, but Finn was unparalleled at stealthily and cleanly eliminating, ' _the bad guys_.'

JP arrived at Bly's mansion in the middle of the night, and he looked badly shaken. He sat down with Bly and West and told them what he knew.

"I talked to Finn on a secure line, and he's gone out of his mind that they have her. I've never known him to come undone over anything before. I'm in shock, to be honest; I never suspected there was anything more than friendship between them. I did know Finn loved someone, but it had been over for a while and talking about it was strictly off limits. What matters is getting Charlotte back, and the fact that Finn is not thinking rationally. He's not going to fight them and put her in harm's way. We all know they're not going to let him live once they have him. He's been ruthless at taking out Huang's connections - and let me tell you they are some bad motherfuckers. Huang isn't just dealing in rifles. He got his hands on long-range missiles and nuclear warheads. He's supplying terrorists. Finn's valuable to the government, but they're not going to get involved and risk blowing the covers of an entire group of operatives. Of course, he knows that, and he intends to go it alone. I can't figure out anything we can do other than let him give himself over to them."

*

Charlotte opened her eyes, and everything was blurry. Her vision began to clear, but she couldn't figure out where she was. She heard the roar of jet engines, and remembered bits and pieces. Someone had jabbed a needle in her neck and she'd awakened to see Jamey Huang's sadistic face above her. He'd moved his face close to hers, and she'd scratched the hell out of him. He'd slapped her so hard, her face was still throbbing.

She heard men's voices talking and laughing, and she sat up. She was on a bed in only her bra and panties; one wrist was handcuffed to a metal bedpost. She yelled at the top of her lungs, "Jamey, you worthless coward! Get in here and unlock me!"

He came in and sat next to her on the bed. He ran his hand over her lacy bra, then up to her swollen lips. She grabbed his hand and bit it, and he backhanded her again.

"Bly will kill you for touching me," she said, her voice shaking.

He laughed and produced the key to the handcuff, "Charlotte, my beauty, you're not really my type. Wrong equipment, if you get my drift. Although that succulent mouth of yours is probably incredible to fuck, and I'll be tempted to make use of it if you cause me any problems. My men are extremely needy right now - and rather bored - so you'll want to stay quiet and out of sight unless you want the rest of your body to end up like your poor bruised face. They're animals, the men who work for me. They'd tear you to pieces with their cocks and their fists, and enjoy every minute of it. I'll unlock your wrist, and you can use the restroom, but if I were you, I would stay in the relative safety of this room. By tomorrow your beloved assassin will trade himself for you, and you can go home with your billionaire and forget this ever happened."

An old Chinese man walked in with a tray of medical instruments, and as she watched he filled a syringe.

"What assassin? What are you talking about?" she tried to back away, and Jamey wrapped her tightly in a blanket and held her as she struggled against the needle.

"Sweet dreams, princess. Be sure to dream well about your old lover. This is Finnegan Hale's last night on earth."

The drug was dragging her down, down, faraway, and she remembered...

Chapter Seven

After the first year of law school, JP, Finn and Charlotte moved into a tiny house together. They did it partly for financial reasons, but mostly because they were a threesome. Not where sex was concerned. Charlotte had avoided men after her divorce, and men left her alone when Finn and JP were around. They lived together because they loved being in each other's company, they laughed at the same jokes, they drank but didn't smoke, and they didn't do drugs.

Both men had gone into the military straight out of high school. They'd finished their bachelor's degrees online, and had become bad-ass Special Forces operatives. The threesome moved into a 1930's Craftsman cottage not far from campus. It had three small bedrooms and only one bath. That had been difficult for Charlotte at first, since the men never thought to close the bathroom door.

"It's a military thing!" Finn yelled as she ran back down the hall one morning after she'd walked in on him humming as he sat on the edge of the bathtub jerking off. He laughed and told her he'd heard her battery operated ' _boyfriend_ ' hum often enough.

Finn grew up in Manchester, England. His family moved to California when he was seventeen. He'd gone into the navy, been recruited for SEAL training, and had become a U.S. citizen.

Charlotte knew that no matter how close they'd all become as friends, both men still secretly lusted after her; but they were well-oiled military machines. They knew how to resist enemy interrogation and torture, so they lived with - and resisted - her. Then, one night the sound of JP and some girl really going at it sent her to the bathroom in the dark, and there was Finn.

He stood in the shower with water pouring over him. His eyes were closed. He was all gorgeous, rippling muscles, tattoos and battle scars; his long, stiff cock in his hand.

She stood still and watched him. It was so fucking sexy, and his hard, sculpted body was so splendid it didn't look real.

He wasn't quite as tall as JP, but he was powerfully built. He trained as a boxer and it kept him incredibly strong and ripped. He'd said his tattoos told secret stories of missions he'd been on as a SEAL, and there were knife and bullet wound scars all over him. He had dark, closely cropped hair, and lips that made women stop and stare.

Charlotte, too, was mesmerized by his mouth. Any woman would have paid good money for those lips. The top one was as full as the bottom, and they were a luscious red.

He was deep into what he was doing, and had no idea she was there. For some reason he let go of his cock, covered his face with his hands, and murmured, "ah, Charlotte."

She stepped back then, and a floorboard creaked. He looked at her, and she didn't move another muscle.

He stepped out of the shower dripping-wet. He held her with his large, grey eyes and walked slowly toward her. She could've walked away, but she waited for him.

He took her face in his hands, and she had never known such a kiss. His lips were amazingly succulent. The kiss was hot and wet and powerful.

She'd only ever slept with one man, strange as that seemed for the woman who'd been every man's sexual obsession, thanks to the magazine layout. But she'd worked hard and avoided boys to get through school, then she'd married briefly for the wrong reasons. Her divorce had been final for nearly a year, and she hadn't had sex in all that time.

He picked her up and carried her into her bedroom. His eyes never left hers as he laid her on her bed then locked the door and climbed in with her.

"Are you sure?" he asked her. "It could change things."

He knew how to hold himself in check, but he was struggling with his need for her. He wanted her more than he wanted his next breath, but he didn't want her to know he was in love with her.

"Let's just not let things change," she said as she wrapped her legs around him and used her own hand to guide him inside her.

Maybe it had been so burning hot because it seemed taboo; they were breaking their vow to never let sex ruin their party of three. Now they were both cheating on JP. They decided it would be the only time it would ever happen, so they stayed up all night until they were both so raw they could barely walk or pee. They'd finally fallen asleep sometime the next morning, and when they heard JP in the kitchen making coffee, she made Finn go out the window naked.

He didn't care. He walked back through the front door as JP was handing Charlotte a cup of coffee. He stood there butt naked and said, "Did you realize that if you go out early enough you can steal the neighbors newspaper?" He threw the paper on the kitchen table, said good night, and slept the rest of the day.

JP stuck his head in Finn's bedroom later in the day and said, "Hey, next time you sneak down the street to fuck Mrs. Kravitz, come back with your clothes, numb nuts."

Finn gave him a thumbs-up and went back to sleep.

Charlotte was still on the couch in her nightgown, and JP turned to look at her and motioned toward Finn's room.

He shook his head and said, "Can you believe that pervert? I think he nearly fucked himself to death!"

*

Alexander Bly, West and JP stood in a small garden in Hong Kong waiting to see how it was going to go. JP had word from Finn that he would be there and turn himself over to Huang. He'd told JP that he and West shouldn't bring weapons. He didn't want to provoke a conflict. They only wanted him, and he wanted Charlotte to go free.

Jamey Huang and five of his men walked into view. The men carried rifles, and Jamey held Charlotte next to him.

She was barefoot, in jeans and a man's dirty blue dress shirt. She looked drowsy, one of her cheeks was badly bruised, and her bottom lip was split open with blood seeping from it.

Bly exhaled sharply and started toward her. West held him back, telling him to not show anger; to wait if he wanted her back.

Finn appeared from a narrow alley between two buildings and walked toward Huang and his group. Everyone got quiet. He looked completely calm as his eyes quickly assessed Charlotte's face.

"Let her go," Finn said, his voice dark and dangerous. "And I mean now, Huang, or you're not going to like what I have planned for you."

Huang's men aimed their weapons at Finn, except for Jamey, who just smiled and pulled Charlotte closer. He ran his fingertips over her bruised faced and dragged them through the blood on her mouth, smearing it onto her chin; then put his fingers to his mouth and tasted it.

"Any last words for your beloved?" Jamey asked, watching Finn's jaw twitch slightly.

"A good-bye kiss," Finn said, as he leaned forward. He kissed Charlotte lightly on the mouth and knocked Jamey out with one blow of his powerful fist. "Go," he told her, staring into her eyes. She was crying hard and clinging to him as four of the men attacked him. They pushed her aside and dragged him away, beating him with the butts of their rifles.

A single man stayed behind, aiming his weapon at JP, Bly and West. He shoved Charlotte forward, and continued to point the gun until Bly collected her and pulled her to a waiting car. All the while she cried and screamed for Finn.

On the jet, Charlotte curled against Bly, relieved to be safe in his arms, but completely miserable. She couldn't stop crying as she pictured the way Finn looked at her for the last time, and she wouldn't be consoled. He'd kissed her, then smiled as if there was nothing to worry about before he was attacked and dragged away. Her head was on Bly's chest, and he stroked her hair, his heart beating against her cheek. There was a doctor on board the jet, and he deemed her completely sound and gave her a Xanax. Still, she was shaking and miserable as she mourned Finn's death. The world continued its journey through space, but he was gone forever; and because of his sacrifice, she was alive. She would be happy with Bly; they would have a beautiful life. But Finn wouldn't survive, and the thought of his eyes, still alive and defiant as the men beat him, made her weep again and again. He'd been her best friend, and she loved him like family.

JP was on his satellite tablet searching the Hong Kong news stations.

"Look at this," he said as he typed swiftly and the picture from his electronic tablet flashed to life on the jet's big overhead screen.

A British news station was saying, "A massive explosion has occurred in the heart of Hong Kong. The building, which was vacant at the time, belongs to the Huang Worldwide Corporation. Huang headquarters reported that Mao Huang's son and several of his business associates were touring the building today, and were almost certainly killed..."

"There," JP shouted and whooped, "that's him! I know it! I'm recording it. Let me back it up and enhance. Look, Char, can you see that movement right there? That's gotta be him. I think the tough son-of-a-bitch got out! Way to fucking go, Finnegan!

*

Charlotte resigned as legal counsel for Bly International. She would continue to draw blood in the courtroom with her arguments, but she wanted to be free to legally ravage Alexander Bly's body as often as she could.

Bly proposed to her on his boat while the sun sank into the ocean, leaving a painter's palette of pink and orange behind. He slipped the huge Tiffany diamond on her finger while on bended knee as the yacht cruised toward Hawaii.

Before she could say "yes," his mouth covered hers with scorching kisses and whispers of his undying love and passion.

He led her to the bedroom to make it official; to make her believe she was his and only his.

In the night, after Bly fell asleep, Charlotte tied her bathrobe and walked out on deck to marvel at the moon and the endless ocean. The stars hung like lanterns in the sky, and the sound of the water moving aside as the yacht raced along was somehow lonely. She felt the cell phone West had given her vibrate in her pocket. It was a secure line, and other than Bly and West, no one knew the number. She smiled to think Bly must have discovered her side of the bed empty and missed her already.

"Yes?" she answered, coyly.

"My love, don't marry him. Wait for me, Charlotte. I'm coming for you,"

"Finn? Are you alright? How did you escape? Where are you?"

She began to cry, and he calmed her and told her not to say another word.

He said he loved her more than life itself; he was sorry it had taken so long to realize what was truly important. He wanted her to know they would have their cottage in the country, and they would be happy, and have babies, and raise sheep in the garden.

He told her not to worry as she cried; they would be together soon.

### END

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