Page 17 of Master Debater

“I will be. It’s the first time I’ve said that aloud and truly believed it.” The vitality I used to have for life, along with the belief I could overcome any barriers that were thrown in my path, coursed through me.

“Glad to hear it.” Nate gave me a super sweet kiss on the forehead that only served to make me want more, wished me a goodnight, and started toward his door. But right before both of us stepped inside our respective places for the night, he added, “Oh, and Willa? Just so you know, as a lawyer, I feel very strongly when it comes to the burden of proof. So, whenever you’re ready, I’ll be happy to show you that my stamina is most definitely not a problem.”

Chapter 9

Nate

It’d been a long day. My nerves were shot, my muscles exhausted, and my grumpiness was off the charts. There’d been a surprise reveal in my current case. One the client hadn’t thought to mention, despite my constant declarations I could take care of most anything, as long as I was aware of it in advance.

That was what I did. I fixed things. Made problems go away. Don’t get me wrong, I was a big fan of justice, but I spun truths if need be. A lot of the time it simply involved finding other laws and probable causes. You didn’t get to the top by only taking on the most upstanding, deserving businesses, but I did my best to weed out the worst of them. What I hated more than anything was to be caught in court with my pants down.

The others in the room should be so lucky…

I scrubbed a hand over my face. Making jokes to myself as a poor attempt to rid myself of the irritation coursing through me just seemed sad. I wasn’t like Jameson or Ben, who picked up the phone and called a meeting of the minds, which now frequently involved Kat.

I was the one my family and friends called for help or simply to chat, and I’d always been fine with that. In fact, that was where I thrived. Solutions. Advice. Listening and providing feedback.

Until a certain blonde sat next to me on my piano bench, a spot I usually insisted on occupying alone.

Hell, even before that, I’d briefly mentioned my dad. A subject I frequently avoided, as it caused too much anger over what my uncles had done and evoked the pang of grief I pretended to be over for my mom and my sister’s sake. The two of them took his passing harder, yet forgave quicker, something I struggled to believe.

When it came to fooling me once, I was bitter enough. There’d no be letting it happen again.

Each case I took on brought me closer to my goal, and if we did get our day in court—which was also a misnomer, as most cases dragged on and on—I’d head to my father’s former firm. Then they’d fully realize the epic mistake they made.

“I’m just going to have to come up with a whole new strategy. No big deal.” It’d be worth it when articles were written on how badly they’d fucked up a case that was supposed to be cut-and-dried.

But damn, did I ever need to release all my pent-up frustration. Preferably with a curvy blonde who had the voice of an angel.

No, more like a siren, and I’d gladly sail directly into the rocks and crash to bits if it meant I could be near her when I shattered in every possible meaning of the word.

As though I’d summoned an erotic moan with my thoughts, one drifted through the air, and my dick immediately took notice. Not again.

The other night, I’d heard the same noise, along with the light buzz that undoubtedly belonged to one of her many sex toys. Once I realized her window was open, and I was literally listening to her masturbate, I forced myself to go inside.

Well, after listening for a moment or two, and it seemed like she was struggling to get there. Not my business, so I’d stripped off my clothes and taken a shower. A nice, steamy one where I replayed the sexy whimpers I’d overheard while closing my eyes and imagining burying myself between Willa’s creamy thighs.

Cool night air drifted through my open patio door and, instead of closing it, I stepped outside onto the back balcony.

Distinctly sexual noises came from directly beneath me.

Did she not realize people could hear her? Did she think the buzzing would cover it and that people would chock up the noise to something else?

Or did she not care? My cock twitched, swelling more by the second.

As if they had a mind of their own, my feet catapulted me toward the edge of the balcony. Leaving me no choice but to peek over the rail to Willa’s bedroom window. Filmy white curtains drifted in and out with the breeze, uninhibited by a screen I’d meant to replace but never got to it.

More buzzing; another tawdry whimper.

My choices were to go inside and use my imagination—again—or stand out here in the fresh air, with the sound of Willa’s actual moans to spur me on.

I’d never claimed to be a saint, and I proved how very wicked I was by undoing the button of my pants and shoving my hand inside.

After a couple of strokes, my slacks could no longer contain my erection, so I went ahead and undid the zipper. Luckily it was dark, no people visible on the street this late at night, but I kept my crotch aligned with the railing to prevent a possible mishap.

The eroticism of touching myself while Willa was below me, doing the same, cranked the depravity to the next level. If I didn’t slow down, I’d also cum in my pants in record time, like some teenager who’d wandered onto the internet to see a naked woman for the first time.

“Ugh, dammit.” Willa’s words floated up to me, along with the edge of her frustration. “Why, why, why?”