Downing Abbey Ch. 01

Ouch. She had a fiery mouth and dead shot aim. I prided myself on growing my bank account off of worthy cases. Being a corporate lawyer paid the bills just fine, but after the second vacation home and matte white Bentley, nothing satisfied the ego more than giving real victims the power to stick foots up asses. Being meticulous was a start, but being Terminator-style laser focused was better when you're against a dream team of Harvard douchebags, and that's usually the situation when you took a case that no one else touched. Winning against the odds was something that I made a habit of doing - it bordered on orgasmic - and something told me Abigail would be the best courtgasm I'd ever had.

She was playing with my pride here, and I knew it. On any other day I'd be smarter. More detached. If it was anyone but Abigail May and her taunting smirk I'd build my defensive garrison of litigious verbosity and wake up the next day happy knowing what a bullet I dodged.

But forget my fucked up version of climax and the odds and the pounding headache that this suit would be to dispute. My twitchy palm and I wanted to fight for this woman - and then do things that weren't part of a typical lawyer-client relationship. And I knew if I didn't do a home run of the first I'd never get an opportunity to do the second.

One quick glance back at those slow eyes and thoughts of spanking and more were replaced by the realization that she had actually been assaulted. A sudden swell of macho pride infused with protective anger allowed me to find my choice. It was obvious why, no matter what morality bullshit I could concoct to justify the reason. The answer was called Abigail May.

She also deserved her pound of flesh to help heal those mental wounds just like any other limping bunny, and while I didn't know the first thing about her assailant, I also wouldn't mind bumping into him in an empty parking lot. 'Let me give your case a personal combing,' I said with eager pragmatism, barely concealing my newfound devotion. 'There might be factors that our associates missed. But if I come to the same conclusion they have, you have to believe me when I say it's a lost cause.'

'Oh, thank you Luke!' she beamed, hair and tits bouncing in unison. 'I'll take your word on it.' As if they had a mind of their own, my cheeks touched my eyes to mirror hers, and it felt fucking good knowing I could make her smile that wide. She rose, making her way to my side of the table, and I followed suit. There was obvious joy in her steps, and she practically sprinted towards me to seal my decision. I didn't know where she went to school but she definitely knew her ABC's. Always Be Closing.

As she brought herself forward for a welcome embrace, an errant chair leg caught a heel. She squealed, lurched forward, and the next moment her hands were gripping my chest, while I had a handful of waist - my breathing hastened. Adrenaline overrode boundaries, but her body didn't complain, breasts fitting like Tetris pieces underneath my ribcage.

My other hand invited itself instinctively, and together the two contracted over the supple fabric. Softness covered strength, as I felt firmness underneath the surface layer of femininity. I found myself inhaling deep above her head, a heady mishmash of sugar and pep wafting up my nostrils. Sweet and spicy - an apt combination for her. 'Careful Abigail, we don't want you breaking a heel,' I teased quietly. 'They look like big-ticket kicks.'

'Wouldn't be the first time,' she murmured below. I didn't understand how it was possible, but I heard the smile in her voice. 'You'd think three years in retail would help, but my inner klutz has other plans.' Perhaps I felt her forehead nuzzling deeper into my pec, but I couldn't be sure, senses overwhelmed.

As if she suddenly realized the nature of our position, a strategic cough gave her cover to move away, and I felt her hands leave my chest. Though I didn't want her to go, I was two seconds away from introducing my palm to her ass, and that's one assault case I couldn't run from. As she withdrew, I got a close glimpse of her hands. Delicate, long fingers were roofed with glossy tips, and I couldn't help but imagine how they'd look enclosed around me. While her left index fashioned a gemstone, I noticed that the hand it's on was otherwise ring-free.

While I liked helping others just as much as the next justice warrior, I always watched out for number one first. In one meeting Abigail May had me scanning fingers for rings and offering help when I was already spread as thin as can be. And I also haven't forgotten that this was the first pre-noon boner since freshman year college. 'I'll look into him, see if I can't dig something up,' I said distractedly as we approached the elevators. I tried to end the meeting un-phased, but one grin from Abigail and sparks were flying down my spine. 'It's good you can't trip in elevators,' I murmured as the doors opened.

'You'd be amazed at what this klutz could do,' she said whimsically as she entered. She stood with two feet heel-to-toe, and in that moment, I wished her hourglass could stop time, or at least slow it down long enough for me to figure out why I wanted it to. 'I think you have all the relevant information,' she said softly. 'But please don't hesitate if . . .' Her mouth stayed open but it also stayed quiet, unsaid words lingering in the crevice of her tongue. The doors began to close, her mouth followed, and sharp daggers pierced my neck, my chest in the silence to end all silences. I was left staring at her shy smile disappear between the doors, wondering what that tongue missed, and secretly hoping that the damn associates missed something about this case as well.