Page 42 of Falling for Roxanne

“I’d rather see him behind bars. They don’t treat cops very well in the general population in state prison, you know,” I said.

“Even better,” she replied. “Not that I’m vengeful or anything but he’s a predatory shitbag.”

“That’s a colorful description, but completely accurate.”

“What’ve you got on Carbone?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Which is?”

“Is Fox married to the former Annabeth Charles?”

“Her name’s Annabeth, yeah, why?”

“I think she and Carbone may be…friends,” I said.

I stood up and turned my laptop toward her so she could see the photo I found on the ex-wife’s new Instagram account. She looked up and met my eyes, grinning.

“You mean he’s dating Fox’s ex and Detective Shitbag is blackmailing them both—Fox because he helped get his charges dropped and Carbone because he knows Fox will kill the wife’s new boyfriend? This is telenovela stuff right here.”

She looked gleeful, and I couldn’t help the joy I felt at seeing her excitement. Her triumph was contagious.

“So when he’s on the stand, all you have to do is say her name? Just ask him a question with her in it, and see how he reacts?”

“I’d like to be a little more subtle than that, but you’ve got the idea. And I think Fox will take the bait as well.”

“So whatever these idiots were supposed to do for the DA’s crumbling case is going to end up discredited. Gotcha,” she said.

“We figured it out in half the time thanks to you giving up your Saturday to help out.”

“This case is really important to me. I’ve gotten to work on it more than I expected to, and it’s going to be hard to let go of it come Monday,” she confessed a little shyly.

“You quickly showed aptitude for this kind of work, and your help with Pansy Lestrade was key in building the case for a retrial. In fact, I’d like you to join me in court, sit at the table and hear all the testimony and give feedback.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, her pretty face stunned. “You’re kidding me! I get to go see this through in court and watch him walk out of there free!” Her voice rose. “You’re really asking me to sit in on the trial?” Roxanne jumped to her feet, knocking her chair over.

She gave me a hug, just swooped her arms around my neck and squeezed, happy and excited. I hugged her back, carefully with just one arm, and tried to release her, giving myself a stern lecture about how there was nothing between us and there couldn’t be as long as she was my student and my intern.

Roxanne didn’t let go. She kept hugging me. The curves of her body molded to me, warm and soft and sweet. It was more than I could stand. The temptation got me by the throat and my arms were around her. Before I knew it, I was kissing her, first her neck and then, when she tipped her head back, I kissed her mouth.

CHAPTER 24

ROXANNE

Hamilton’s mouth was hot on mine. The second he had nipped at my neck, I was a goner. Sexual desire pumped through me like nothing I’d ever known. My body seemed like it was on fire. I had hugged him. I had started this but damn, he knew how to take it to the next level.

My body shook with arousal, a trembling I couldn’t control like a jolt of electricity. I wasn’t sure I could even use my hands, or I would have pulled off his shirt by that time. Hamilton was the one to take things further, to sweep his tongue in my mouth and leave me shivering and clinging to him. He captured the zipper between his thumb and forefinger and slid it down. Just the soft rasp of the unzipping was hot, and he peeled the hoodie off me. I was standing there in my tank and yoga pants, and he put his big, hot hands on me, cupping my breasts that were already tender and heavy, tingling in anticipation of his touch. He palmed them, caressed them, and then stroked circles over my hard nipples with his thumbs while I bit my lip to hold in a big moan. He was already pushing me up and up—before I knew it I’d tip over the peak and tumble into an orgasm I wasn’t prepared for at all.

He slid his hands down my body, skating along my sides while I made a frustrated, needy sound about wanting his fingers back on my nipples—but I couldn’t access words. He cupped my ass and pulled me against him, so my burning body met the hard proof of his arousal.

I nearly blacked out, from the breathless desire and the vivid memory of him impaling me again and again with that massive cock. I met his eyes and saw the dark hunger in his gaze. I ran my fingers into his hair and arched my body against him. Hamilton backed me up until my legs met the couch, the same one where I’d served chai to a nervous witness. Now the only one nervous was me—eager and anxious and needy.

He laid me down and wrenched my yoga pants off before burying his face between my thighs. With no preliminary, no warning, his hot mouth was French kissing my sensitive pussy, lapping at me and sliding his tongue between my slick, sensitive lips. I bucked, a galvanic whip of pleasure cracking through me as the flat of his tongue slid long and slow up over my clit. I twisted and jerked, driving myself against his mouth. When he speared a long finger inside me, I clenched and screamed as he wrung pleasure out of me in hard, shuddering waves, curling his finger and dragging out my climax until I came up off the couch, unable to endure another second of the thunderous pleasure.

Hamilton slid his finger out of me, kissed the inside of my thigh and sat up, drawing me into his lap. He held me, his great broad chest heaving with exertion and arousal. I nestled against his chest and let him stroke my hair until my body loosened and I recovered a little. I gave a short laugh and reached for him, touching his strong jaw and kissing his lips. I felt his smile against my mouth just before he slid his tongue in mine. His arms were securely around me, and I felt so protected, so surrounded by his muscular frame. Every inch of Hamilton was masculine and powerful. If he had a personal trainer I should send them flowers, I thought foolishly. Then I didn’t think anything else, foolish or not. There had never been room for words between us, and now he drove away all my powers to think at all under the onslaught of his wicked tongue. My body reacted in some primal way to the taste of myself on his tongue. I could never have put it into words, what that felt like.

He pressed steamy kisses down my sensitive neck and dragged the strap of my tank off my shoulder so he could taste the skin he bared. I felt intoxicated by his relentless kisses and caresses, drunk on the heady pleasure he was giving me. He sucked a sensitive spot on my throat that made my whole body arch and then bit the spot where my shoulder met my neck, softly, just the slightest edge to it, and my head fell back in ecstasy.

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