Caught Up: With An Alpha Billionaire (A BWWM Romance) (A Love Like No Other Book 1) by Heather Banks

1. Pretrial Motions
     
    “Look at me,” he whispered. “Watch.”
    My eyes popped open in compliance. I needed him so badly that I would do anything he asked.
    He bent and snaked out his pink tongue to lathe my areola. I moaned as I saw him run his hand down my hard abs, his hand a beige-y tan against my milk-chocolate colored skin. The contrast was stunning, and made me even wetter.
    His long fingers dipped lower until they teased my sex, spreading me, probing my entrance and getting me ready for his length. He slid one finger inside, then, two, and then found my clit with his thumb, making me groan and arch into his hand.
    I could feel my climax building, my skin shiny and glowing with sweat, my insides quivering with desire. He moved to enter me and then –
     
    I woke with a gasp, my body tingling, my panties wet.  I could hear an electronic pinging noise, which was what must have woken me up. For a minute, I forgot where I was, and then I spied the floor-to-ceiling windows across the room.
    Beyond them, Chicago was just waking up, the sky just starting to fade to a rosy purple from pitch-black, the skyscrapers and office buildings on the Loop still sleepy.
    I was in my office on my leather couch, covered up with a throw I’d brought from home.
    Glancing down at the floor, I saw my cell phone illuminated in the dark, the screen glowing, announcing I had new text messages.
    Flopping back against the arm of the couch, I tried to take some deep breaths and calm my body.
    I just had a sex dream, and a damn good one. And it made me depressed.
    It reminded me that my relationship had just imploded. That’s why I was sleeping in my office: Aaron, my former live-in boyfriend, was in the process of moving out.
    It wasn’t too unusual for the people I worked at Bender & Bender, one of the biggest law firms in Chicago, to sleep in our offices. We often pulled late-night work sessions when dealing with big cases, and that’s why Stephen Bender, our senior partner, insisted we all had comfortable couches.
    Even though my work load was unusually light at the moment – I was between cases – I was grateful for the couch. I did not want to see Aaron under any circumstances, so I was staying at work for a few nights to give him some time to get his shit out of my apartment.
    My tingling body reminded me that even though Aaron was just now moving out, our relationship had ended several months ago, and our sex life proved it. I hadn’t had an orgasm in forever, and he hadn’t tried to give me one.
    Overall, he was a bastard, and I was glad to see him go.
    But he was the latest in a long line of bastards. How did I keep picking these losers?
    I got up from my couch and went to my en-suite bathroom. It was one of the perks of being a senior associate, having my own bathroom. It was tiny, but it did the job.
    I flipped on the light and checked myself in the mirror.
    My dark, mocha skin was sallow under the fluorescent lights, and I could see deep bags under my eyes. My black hair was flat on one side and sticking out on the other, and I was going to need to pull it back to face the day without looking like hell.
    Or at least so I didn’t look like I’d slept in my office.
    Since I always kept a makeup bag stashed in my desk and a fresh suit hanging in my coat closet, I knew I could successfully put myself back together. At least physically.
    Emotionally pulling myself together was a different story.
    Maybe I could hit the gym at lunch; there was nothing like a good, sweaty turn on the treadmill to keep my mind off bastards and lonely apartments.
    I flipped the light off, went back out to my office and grabbed the phone off the floor next to the couch. Then I went to my desk and sat down in my chair, tapping the screen. The clock read 6:43.
    I swiped the face of the phone to check the texts.
    There were two from Aaron, from 2:14 a.m. Judging from the time (and the typos), he had probably been drinking, which means not only was he