Page 90 of Passionate Defense

Her snug channel enveloped him, the heat incredible. As he moved inside her, she rocked back, meeting his hips with each stroke and begging him to move harder and faster. Always one to oblige, he picked up speed, driving deep until the slap of their skin echoed loudly in the room.

His orgasm overtook him quickly, and thrusting hard once more, he came while she cried out her own release. As he lay over her back, realizing they hadn’t even tried to keep quiet, his eyes sought the wall clock. It was after five. Most everyone would have left and hopefully missed the very recognizable sex noises coming from Professor Fischer’s main corridor office.

Too content to worry, he spread kisses along her cheek until she angled her head enough to reach her lips. “This is one birthday I’m not likely to forget, sweetheart. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Did I do enough to make the grade, Professor?”

“A naked co-ed, a surprise blowjob, naughty presents, spankings, and phenomenal sex with you on my desk... What more could I ask for?”

“I’m glad you liked it. When you list it all out like that, it sounds like a porn movie plot.”

He chuckled. It did indeed.

“I’ve got the perfect title for it, too.”

“What’s that?” he asked as he eased out of her and helped her stand. She turned in his arms and beamed up at him.

“The Naughty Professor, what else?”

Chapter 20

“SIDEBAR, YOUR HONOR?”

Judge Vandermeer glanced up from his writing and motioned them forward. Lanie approached the bench and was joined by Joel Simpson, whom she didn’t bother to acknowledge. From the corner of her eye, she saw he was sweating. Hiding a smirk, she could tell that he knew, just as she did, that his case was full of more holes than Swiss cheese. The question was whether he knew when it was time to bow out gracefully.

“Ms. Fischer?” the judge prompted, covering the microphone with his hand.

“I’m ready to move for dismissal, your honor. In the interest of fairness, I wanted to give my esteemed—” She choked over the word, stopping to clear her throat delicately. “Excuse me. I’d like to give my esteemed colleague the opportunity to save face and drop the charges.”

“Mr. Simpson,” the judge said, eying the Assistant D.A. over the rim of his reading glasses. “I think Ms. Fischer’s kind offer makes sense, considering Ms. Masterson’s testimony.”

“But, your honor,” the younger man protested. Even though he had to be pushing thirty, his nervous voice squeaked like an adolescent as he spoke. “I have another compelling witness who has yet to testify.”

“Simon’s secretary? Please. Don’t waste the court’s time.” Lanie finally deigned to look at him. Unsurprisingly, he seemed ready to wet his pants. He was in way over his head, and Lanie had been systematically turning the screws. Giving him her patented look of icy disdain, she illustrated how weak his witness would appear after she was done with her.

“She’s sleeping with him, Joel. Everyone knows it and the fact that if she loses her sugar daddy to jail, she loses her apartment, her cushy job, and her A-list lifestyle. She is hardly credible, and I can bring a parade of witnesses to further undermine her testimony.”

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