Page 113 of Wicked Sin

Never enough touch.

Never enough.

But we’re going to try our damnedest to fill that aching need.

All night long.

35

Luke

First thing in the morning,we go to her apartment so she can dress appropriately for court. No more leggings and tank tops, no more acres of bare, tan skin for me to tease and touch and love.

She puts on a severe-looking black pantsuit, with a simple black t-shirt underneath.

And now I have a fantasy of bringing the bossy lady CEO to heel.

She could wear a burlap sack and I’d find it filthy and full of potential.

She picks up her phone from the couch where we left it a week ago and wiggles it at me. “Now we can sext, Luke. That’ll be fun, won’t it?”

Glad I’m not the only one with dirty thoughts on my mind. “Absolutely fun. I’m looking forward to it.”

Her smile is a little too wide, a little too bright, but I can’t blame her for trying to push away the fear of what’s about to happen with a bit of play.

I’m always game for distraction.

When we arrive at the courthouse, we find her sisters waiting for her in matching suits. Together they make a formidable wall of polished socialite attitude. Nothing will fuck with the Reid sisters. Not a stalker, not the paparazzi, not the federal agents they all have good reason to distrust with every fiber of their being.

And the Feds are out in force today. Once we’re inside the courtroom, a team of federal prosecutors identify themselves to the judge and ask for standing in the hearing. Apparently while we are sitting here, another group of them are filing a sealed indictment against Newcomb related to charges around leaking the video of President Best and Gerome Lively, but for privileged reasons they expect that case to be delayed and ask that this proceeding be put on hold.

The judge is having none of it, much to Taylor’s relief. “That is a motion you can make as we progress further through this process. However, what I see in front of me today—murder, attempted murder, stalking, threats—all of that is very serious. And we will be proceeding today with a reading of those charges and entering an initial plea from the defendant. What happens in federal court is a matter for a federal judge, not for me, unless I’m directed by that judge. Do you understand?”

Beside me, Taylor exhales quietly, her eyes bright.

Her relief grows as the arraignment proceeds. The judge first refuses Newcomb bail, then accepts his pleading not guilty, and warns his lawyer that she won’t have much patience for playing games.

By the time he’s remanded back into the fine custody of the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, Taylor’s cheeks are wet with silent tears.

Beside her, Ali is leaning hard on her shoulder, and on the other side of the youngest Reid sister is Hailey, glowering fiercely at Newcomb.

Nora gathers up her notes, tucks them in her briefcase, then comes through the barrier between the gallery and the lawyer’s desks in front of the judge.

“Ms. Reid?” She stops in front of us. “I’m A.D.A. Nora Vance. Today went well, as I hope you saw.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Nora glances at me, then down at where my hand is tangled in Taylor’s. Just a beat, but from the way Taylor tenses up, I don’t think she missed it.

“I have time this afternoon. I’d like to go over your statement while it’s all still fresh.”

“Of course.”

She hands over a card, like we both don’t know that I know exactly where her office is. “One o’clock?”

Taylor nods solemnly. “I’ll be there.”

We go back to the Wilshire with her sisters for a light lunch and a lot of debriefing, then I drive her to the DA’s office on Broadway. It’s stop and go traffic the whole way.

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