DISCOVERY (Esquire Black Duet Book 1) Read online

  “I need full disclosure from you in the future, Mrs. Dunning,” I grind out as I throw my papers in my briefcase and grab it off of the table.

  Her hand lifts, reaching up to finger my tie. “How many times do I have to ask you to call me Meredith?” she asks with pouty lips, her demeanor instantly changing from pissed to flirtatious. She’s goddamn vile.

  She could ask me to call her princess while she’s naked, on her knees, and waiting for my dick, and I would still call her Mrs. Dunning. This bitch is nothing but a fucking cunt. No way am I doing a damn thing that will give her even an ounce of a hint that I’m halfway interested in her.

  Fuck. That.

  “Mediation with the court-appointed child advocacy attorney will be in three days. I suggest you gather whatever you can and come to my office an hour before the appointed meeting. I’ll do what I can as well. Mrs. Dunning, to be honest, it’s pretty much out of my hands what happens from here on out with your son,” I explain.

  “Bullshit. You’re the best. I hired you because you’re the best. You’ll make sure that bastard pays,” she smirks.

  I don’t explain to her that I’m only the best with what I’m given. I can’t make a drunk, horny, pill-popping cunt look like Sister Mary Moses, even if I gave it all of my attention—which this bitch isn’t getting. I refuse to expend any amount of legitimate energy on her or her fucked up attempts to drain her husband dry, using her son to do so. She can take a fucking flying leap for all I care.

  Turning my back on her, I leave her standing at the table in the courtroom and make my way back to the office. I can’t be around her filth a second longer.

  Sliding into the driver’s seat of my Ferrari, I fire up the engine and speed down the street. The courthouse is only a city block from my office, so I don’t get my car even close to its maximum speed, but it helps me let off a little steam anyway.

  BROOKLYN

  He hovers behind me, breathing down my neck. It makes my stomach roll and my body break out into a sweat, all at the same time. It’s a talent, really. Aaron McDonald—my boss. Or as I like to call him, The Creep. He’s just handed me my first case.

  Well, I’ve been in on cases before. In fact, I’ve been in on several of them, steadily, for the past year. This one is my very first solo case and I’m far too excited to finally get started. If I handle this well, maybe, just maybe I’ll finally be able to work on my own, and away from him.

  I can’t wait.

  I want to call Lillie and tell her all about it, but I can’t. The Paris time difference is all fucked up, and we’re never awake at the same hours. It’s annoying as shit and really starting to drive me insane. Lillie is my go-to, she’s the person that I call when anything happens, good or bad, and this transition has been difficult.

  “I would love to take you out for drinks to celebrate,” Aaron whispers against the back of my neck.

  Gross.

  He’s so close that I can smell his stale coffee and body odor rolling off of him in waves. I suppress my shiver before I speak.

  “Rain check? I have so much to do to prepare for mediation in a few days,” I say.

  Slowly, I turn around to face him, flashing him a bright, albeit fake as shit, smile. I wish that it were a lie, that I didn’t have a pile of paperwork to pour over, but I honestly do.

  “Okay, beautiful,” he says, straightening and adjusting his crotch before giving me a wink.

  I gag a little, wishing that I could run away from this place. Unfortunately, I need the experience. Once I have some solo cases under my belt, I’m running as quickly as I can.

  Aaron McDonald is about twenty years my senior; he also sweats like he runs ten miles every morning in his suit before work and only showers once every other day, minimum probably more like once every four days. Then, to top it off, he drinks coffee and smokes cigarettes all day long, too.

  He isn’t my type at all. Add in the stale coffee and smokes, and it makes him definitely not for me. That doesn’t even include the fact that he is very married, and enjoys his fast food a little too much.

  I mean, I’ve had a dry spell that would make the Sahara Desert jealous, but I don’t think I will ever be quite that hard up. I’d rather live my life alone with my vibrator than be with a man like him, a very married man like him.

  I’m not perfect, by any means. I’m of shorter stature, around five-foot-four and I definitely have curves. My body comes from my mama’s side. Boobs, smallish waist, hips that flare with a round booty, plus thighs. I can never forget my thighs—even if I want to, every pair of jeans on God’s green earth wouldn’t let me.

  My hair is probably my favorite attribute. It’s long, thick, and dark. I have bangs that are a straight slash across my forehead, skimming my eyebrows in length. Then there are my eyes, they’re an amber color, almost yellow if I’m wearing the right color combinations. I love them.

  I write myself a little note, thinking about my thighs—go to the gym on the way home. With a heavy sigh, I put Aaron and my thighs out of my head. Turning back to my paperwork, I read over the files I’ve just received.

  Father—Curtis Dunning: Accused by wife of gambling addiction and physical abuse.

  Mother—Meredith Dunning: Accused by husband of abusing prescription drugs, over-imbibing, and neglect of child.

  Child—Fisher Dunning: 10 years old. Currently placed with fraternal grandmother, Mrs. Andrea Dunning, until conclusion of trial by Child Protective Services.

  As it does with every new case I encounter, my heart immediately aches for this ten-year-old child. I don’t think anybody should live in an abusive environment, especially not an innocent child. It’s my main reason for going into the type of law I chose.

  I’m never going to make a million dollars a year working for the district attorney’s office, but if I can take one child out of a bad environment to ensure that they’re placed in a better one, then that is all that matters.

  I don’t know where my need to help people came from. It’s not as if I were raised in the system, or have been through custody battles myself.

  My parents are wonderful people, very loving and always have been. They’re happily retired and living in Arizona. They call me once a week and my mom even sends me care packages for every little holiday, including Valentine’s Day. They are almost unbelievable, our bond close and almost fairytale-like.

  Closing down my computer, I gather the file and my briefcase before I head toward the door. I’m going to the gym, it’s something I can’t put off another day.

  I don’t like working out. Do people really enjoy it? I don’t know.

  I’m going to do it anyway. I’m going to get my round ass in there, like I do every other day, and attempt to keep these curves under control.

  Plus, there are some seriously hot guys working on their bodies every day. They aren’t going to be looking in the direction of my jiggly—everything, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy the view while I work on my fitness. And I do, liberally and often.

  Chapter Two

  BROOKLYN

  “You have a meeting today with Lucas Black, don’t you?” Kay Robinson, the paralegal in my office, asks.

  She’s older, in her early sixties. She’s let her hair go naturally gray and wears it in a tight bun at the back of her head. She always has on calf-length suit skirts. Her jackets cover a frilly ruffled shirt beneath.

  I absolutely love her. She also says things that, nine times out of ten, shock the shit out of me. She has the dirtiest mouth and the most prim-and-proper appearance. I hope to be like her one day.

  Looking up at her from my coffee, I nod.

  “Yeah, in an hour. I’m trying to prepare a little. Honestly, I probably have this entire file completely memorized,” I admit with a shrug.

  She grins. “Honey, there is no way in hell you will ever be prepared to meet Lucas Black.”

  Curiously, I look up at her, waiting for her to continue. When she does, I’m not prepared fo
r her next sentence, let alone the enigma who is Lucas Black, apparently.

  “Lucas Black is one of the sexiest, nastiest, downright lickable men I have ever seen before. He’s tall and dark, with green eyes and scruff on his face that makes you want to rub up on it just to feel it against your thighs. The promise of multiple orgasms that man could give, Lord, I need to stop thinking about him,” she whispers.

  “Kay,” I gasp. “Thanks, now I’m terrified.”

  Giving her a shaky smile, I decide that he must be way too old for me anyway. I mean, if Kay thinks he’s hot, he’s got to be closer to her age than my own, right? All I can think about is this man, this nasty lickable man.

  She nods. “You fucking should be.” She lifts her chin, turns and walks away.

  I need Lillie. I need a margarita. I need chips, queso, and ice cream. Lots of ice cream. Unfortunately, I only have enough time to finish my coffee before I need to make it over to his office.

  I have to walk, because my car doesn’t have enough gas to get to the law firm of Brown, Jones, & Black and then make it back home, too. Being on a tight budget really sucks sometimes. I’m ready to start making some more money, and each day I wonder if civil service is worth it, and each day something happens to remind me that it is.

  So, today I’ll be walking a city block, in the hot sunshine. The good news is, this just means I won’t have to go to the gym tonight, and that is quite all right with me.

  Los Angeles has the best weather. I honestly don’t know how the rest of the country lives with their crazy temperatures. It’s usually always beach weather and sunshiny beautiful.

  However, after walking in my high heels, in the high seventy-degree weather, with the sun relentlessly pounding straight on me, I’m cursing myself.

  I’m hot, a little sweaty and my makeup feels melty. I’m thankful that I’m not required to wear suit jackets to work and my sleeveless top is keeping me from giving myself heat stroke.

  It doesn’t take me long to reach the building where the law office is located. It’s my first time in this area, and I can’t deny that it’s a bit overwhelming.

  The building doesn’t look extra fancy on the outside, but the second I walk inside of the cool space, my body jerks. It’s nice, like really, really nice. There’s even a coffee vendor off to the side and marble flooring. I’m a little afraid to look at the waiting area, knowing the furniture is probably better than my own sofa and loveseat at my condo.

  Making my way to the receptionist, I let her know that I have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Black. She eyes me up and down and then smirks before she suggests that I take a seat. I’m too nervous to sit down, so I walk over to the large windows and look out at the busy street in front of me.

  Minutes tick by, and I wait. Then, finally, the receptionist announces that all parties are waiting for me in the conference room on the fourth floor. I thank her, sucking in a deep breath before I release it, and walk over to the elevator.

  The elevator car feels like it’s climbing at the rate of molasses speed. I feel hotter than I did walking over, and my stomach clenches. I’m so nervous. Kay and her talk of Mr. Black hasn’t helped matters even a tiny bit.

  I tell myself, again, that Lucas Black is probably just some handsome older gentleman, and there’s absolutely nothing to be intimidated about.

  When the car dings, I press my lips together and step out. There is a woman who looks to be in her fifties waiting outside of a closed door. In looks, she reminds me of Kay, except she’s not wearing anything frilly, other than that she’s well put together in a skirt suit and low high heels, her hands clasped in front of her.

  “Good morning,” I greet.

  She eyes me up and down before she smirks. “Oh, this should be interesting,” she chuckles as she opens the door to let me pass.

  I’m unable to hide the surprise on my face at her response to my greeting. Taking a step inside of the conference room, I turn to face the parties awaiting my arrival and I freeze.

  Holy Fuck. Holy Shit. Holy Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

  Kay did not lie, and yet, she didn’t prepare me for all that is Mr. Black. His light green eyes lock in on mine, my belly swoops and my nipples tighten. I swear to all that is holy that my entire body breaks out in goosebumps. He’s sexy as all sin. He looks like the devil wrapped in a suit, like sin and seduction all in one.

  Wordlessly, completely frozen in my spot, I watch as he rises from his seat. His eyes are focused completely on mine, and a cocky as shit smirk tips his lips. I can’t move. My feet won’t let me, I’m surprised my brain is even able to send messages to the rest of my body to breathe.

  “You don’t look like Mr. McDonald,” he murmurs, his voice traveling straight to my clit causing my body to jolt.

  I shake my head once, trying to rid myself of thoughts I should definitely not be having about this man. Like, how I kind of want him to throw me down on this table, wrench my skirt up, and show me just how dirty that mouth of his can be.

  Like, how I kind of want him to prove to me that Kay was absolutely correct about how he would feel between my thighs. Of how nasty he is. I really do think I want it all and I don’t think I’d turn anything he wanted to do to me down right about now. That makes him freaking dangerous.

  “Uh… no, I’m Brooklyn Myers,” I stammer, clearing my throat.

  Holding out my hand to his, I wait for him to shake it. His eyes shift from mine to my hand, and then back up. That feeling that went to my clit, it’s nothing compared to the sensation that travels through my hand when his is in my grasp.

  Good Lord, I’m going to need a cold shower.

  LUCAS

  I would like to say it was the amber-colored eyes that caught my attention first. However, I’m a dick, and I have a dick, so it was definitely her body. Those curves—lush, soft curves that beg for a man’s touch. Plentiful curves. Christ, what I wouldn’t give to sink my fingers, teeth, and cock into her body.

  No.

  Strike that.

  Those curves beg for my touch, and mine alone.

  She has a body that is not meant for all men. Fortunately for her, I know exactly how she needs to be handled. She needs to be spanked, bound, fucked, and controlled—by me.

  Her eyes widen when I point out that she’s not McDonald, whom I’ve worked with a million times before, he’s a man I seriously cannot stand. That’s when I noticed her eyes, the color, soft brown, almost golden. Amber.

  She introduces herself as Brooklyn Myers. Now, that’s a name I can remember while being buried inside of her. I wonder if her eyes widen with surprise right before she comes, too? I smirk at the thought.

  Biting the corner of my lip, I try to keep my dick down. It doesn’t listen, I’m half-hard just at the promise of little, curvy, Brooklyn Myers.

  I need to stop thinking about her cunt and if it’s as tight and warm as I imagine. I need to stop thinking about her lips and what they would look like wrapped around my cock. Or if she’ll scream when I fuck her from behind and pull her hair. I need to do a lot of things, all of which I can’t quite bring myself to do.

  “I have been appointed by the court to conduct the investigation of both parties’ accusations. My review will be factual and unbiased. I will ask for full cooperation on both parties’ ends,” she states, her voice trembling slightly, obviously just affected by me as I am her.

  It’s a speech I’ve heard a million times, and yet, I’ve never felt turned the fuck on by it in the past—not like I am now.

  “Lucas, is all of this normal and necessary?” Meredith whines.

  Turning toward her, I make my way back to my seat and sit down. She’s looking up at me, her red painted lips in an exaggerated pout and it takes everything inside of me not to roll my eyes at her. She’s obnoxious as shit.

  “Unfortunately, Mrs. Dunning, this matter of custody is not in my hands. When it comes to children, the court has to ensure that the child is in the safest environment.”

  M
eredith’s face scrunches up and twists into a sinister and extremely ugly look before she adjusts it, quickly returning to her normal appearance.

  “I’ll help you in any way that I can,” she offers, feigning innocence.

  Curtis Dunning snorts but doesn’t speak. Brooklyn eyes them warily but smartly stays silent. She then continues with her speech. I’m unable to listen as I’m intently watching her chest rise and fall with her breathing, her tits straining beneath her sleeveless shirt.

  My eyes focus on the swell of her breasts and the hint of cleavage she’s showing. I try to school my features as I appraise her tits, knowing that there is so much more beneath her top. I’m completely mesmerized by her. I have to have her. I have to be inside of her—every way that I can be.

  She’s different from any other woman that I’ve encountered, and I can’t quite figure it out. She’s beautiful and curvy, but there’s something else that lays beneath the surface that calls to me, that begs me to figure it all out.

  I shake off the feeling, deciding that it must only be lust and the fact that to me, she’s untouchable while we’re in the middle of this case. I need to stay away from her until it’s over, my own scruples demand it, at least until everything is closed, only then can I have her. It’s the fact that she’s unattainable, that’s what has me so smitten.

  The meeting comes to an end and as difficult as it is, I force myself to stand. I shake Curtis Dunning’s hand, his counsel’s hand, and Meredith’s.

  “Do you need me to stay for an extra meeting?” Meredith whispers as her fingers trail between her breasts.

  “No, thank you, Mrs. Dunning. If I need to discuss anything with you between now and our next scheduled appointment, I’ll contact you,” I inform her.