“You’re going to make me fire you over a cup of coffee?”

“To be honest, you might not want me to make your coffee, Mr. Hamilton.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “There’s no telling what I’ll put in it.”

“I fucking dare you...” I stepped closer.

“Is that a threat?” She shrugged.

“It’s a fucking promise.” I pushed her against the wall and pressed my lips against hers, lifting her leg around my waist.

My cock had been hard ever since she set down my coffee, and she was rubbing her hand against it through my pants right now, murmuring.

I pulled a condom out of my pocket and pressed it into her hand as I devoured her mouth—biting her soft lips, teasing her tongue with mine. If I could, I would fuck her mouth all day.

As she unzipped my pants, I slipped a hand underneath her dress and pushed her panties to the side, groaning once I felt how wet she was.

“Andrew...” She was taking too long with the condom, so I did it myself. The second I had it on, I slid into her deeply, biting her lips so she wouldn’t scream.

I grabbed her hands and placed them around my neck. “Always wet...” I felt her trying to move her leg from around my waist but I held it still. “Say my name again...”

“Yes...” She gasped as I pounded into her, over and over and over. “Yes...”

“Say it.” I squeezed her ass.

Her murmurs were becoming louder and louder.

“My name, Aubrey...” I kissed her mouth. “Say my name...”

Her pussy was gripping my cock tighter and tighter, and her nails were clawing my neck. “I...I’m about to...”

I immediately stopped mid thrust and whispered harshly into her ear. “Say my fucking name, Aubrey...”

Her nails dug into my skin. “Andrew...”

At the sound of my name on her lips, I slid into her again and she came, so perfectly. I felt my own release seconds later, and could feel her burying her head in my chest to stifle her moans, but I tilted her head up.

“Stop that...”

Panting, she kept her eyes on mine. “Stop, what?”

“Hiding your voice from me...” I kissed her lips again, making no move to slide out of her, and we stood there entwined in each other for what felt like forever.

As much as I wanted to tell her to leave and get the hell out of my office, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I kissed her forehead and slowly pulled out, readjusting her dress.

After throwing away the condom, I picked up one of her heels that had fallen off and held it out for her.

Her curls were tousled all over her head, so I smoothed them back into place. As if she was returning the favor, she refastened my zipper and fixed the collar of my shirt.

Then the two of us stood staring at one another. I had no idea what the fuck just happened, and only a part of me liked it. The other half loved it.

“You need to get back to work.” I tugged at the ballet slipper charm around her neck. “You still owe me that Brownstein report, demotion or not.”

“You told me it wasn’t a demotion.”

“I took a page out of your book and lied.” I rolled my eyes and stepped back. “Get back to work.”

“Fine, Mr. Hamilton.” She smiled and headed for the door.

“And when you come back,” I added, “just leave my afternoon coffee on that bookshelf and walk out. Don’t come anywhere near my desk and don’t say anything to me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll fuck you again if you do.”

She blushed and stepped out of the room.

The second she was gone, I fell back into my chair and shook my head.

Twice in less than twenty four hours? Jesus...

I pulled up my latest case file, but I couldn’t bring myself to read it. All I could think about was Aubrey.

I’d felt something like this before, and I knew it would lead to nothing but despair. What I felt was nothing deep, nothing all-encompassing—yet, but it was real, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I’d built the last six years of my life detaching myself from any chance of having feelings for someone else, refusing to build any friendships, but Aubrey had snuck by my impenetrable doors somehow. And not only had she snuck by, she’d done it with lies, something I would never allow from anyone else. Something that would make me immediately discard her and never think of her again.

I had absolutely no idea how to handle this. This was uncharted territory and I had no idea where to sail next.

Sighing, I picked up my case file and forced myself to read the first few pages so I could get a grip on myself. Before I knew it, I was lost in my work, and the only thing on my mind was how I was going to convince a jury to believe my latest client’s bullshit.

Before I could call the lead prosecutor and ask what he was offering in exchange for a plea deal, I felt something hot splashing into my lap.

My goddamn coffee.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I dropped my papers to the desk, glaring at a red-faced Aubrey. “Did you just throw that into my lap on purpose?”

“I did.” She nodded, and I realized there were tears in her eyes. “Bringing you your coffee is my job, right?”

“Are you fucking bipolar?”

“No, I’m just a liar like you said. I’m actually just like you, but at least I can admit when I haven’t told you the truth, at least I have a reason.”

“Excuse me?”

Tears fell down her cheeks. “You have a visitor at the front desk.”

“Is it your replacement?” I asked dryly. “Because I swear to God, if these stains don’t come out of my pants—”

“It’s your wife.”

REASONABLE DOUBT

(VOLUME TWO)

Prologue

New York City

Six years ago...

Andrew

For the third week in a row, I woke up to a relentless rain falling over this repulsive city. The clouds above were coated in an ugly hue of grey, and the streaks of lightning that flashed across the sky every few seconds were no longer marvels; they were predictable.

Holding up my umbrella, I walked to a newspaper stand and picked up The New York Times—bracing myself for what lay between its pages.

“How many women do you think a man could possibly screw in his lifetime?” The vendor asked as he handed me my change.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve stopped counting.”

“Stopped counting, eh? What did you do, get to ten and decide that was enough before settling down?” He pointed to the gold band on my left hand.

“No. I settled down first, then I started fucking.”

He raised his eyebrow—looking stunned, and then he turned around to organize his cigar display.

A couple of months ago, I would’ve entertained his attempt to make conversation, would’ve answered his question with a lighthearted laugh and a “More than we’ll ever admit to,” but I didn’t have the ability to laugh anymore.

My life was now a depressing reel of repeated frames—hotel nights, cold sweats, marred memories, and rain.

Goddamn rain.

I tucked the newspaper underneath my arm and turned away, glancing at the ring on my hand.