When Lines Get Tangled

This story came to life as an arc in Devo's Crimes, Torts, and Trials. When I read it, I suggested she pull some material out and set it aside, because it added additional facets and weight to something with great legs on its own.

We worked together to develop it into a tale which can stand on its own, while still building the universe of their shared characters. You might want to read Crimes before this because it sets the foundation for this one. This begins during its epilogue.

Fair warning: You might want to keep a tab open on your browser with your favorite search engine at the ready because there's some jargon ahead you may wish to read up on if you're as geeky as we are.

A thank you is in order to SouthernCrossfire who gave a beta-read and offered more improvements, so, thanks, SC!

We hope you enjoy:

When Lines Get Tangled

"Are you going to be okay?" my sister asked.

"I will be at some point."

"Will she ?"

"I don't know," I answered. "I don't see any way her career can survive this."

"I'm worried about you."

"Oh, that's rich," I scoffed. "You worrying about me ."

"Whoa," Candace challenged, raising a palm. "You should just ask her. You're being a dick , Peter."

Somehow, she tickled my funny bone.

I laughed. "Did you intend to use those last two words as synonyms?"

Candace had always been blessed with a quick wit, and I was glad to finally see it reappearing. It didn't take her long at all to realize what she'd said.

She chuckled. "No, but I'm glad I could at least get you to smile."

"Ugh. You look absolutely disgusting ," I said to the woman.

"Well, you look like you're full of steaming baby bear crap, and you'll probably get some of it beaten out of you," she countered and dug back with her own insult.

The second interleague series between the two Chicago teams was held at Comiskey Park (I refuse to call it Guaranteed Rate Field) so she was also poking fun at my steps into enemy territory while wearing the wrong colors.

I tugged against her sleeves to pull the front of her White Sox jersey more snuggly across her chest. Though I preferred the Cubs, she did look quite nice in the American League team's black pinstripes.

We'd attended the first trio of CHI versus CHI games earlier in the season at Wrigley, and the rivalry amongst the fans of both sides generally consisted of good-natured ribbing and smack talk. It was during those intervening weeks when Courtney White and I realized we'd become very fond of each other. We'd grown into more than only professional interaction.

It was at that point in time we decided to have "the talk."

Not between ourselves, as we'd already had that particular talk a number of times. We both knew we were tiptoeing on the line of professional workplace ethics and wanted to see what the head of the firm thought. We also agreed that if he didn't approve, there were only two options. One would be for Courtney to find a job at another firm, and the other would be to cease all but our professional relationship. Neither of us wanted either. She understood I couldn't be the one to leave the firm because I was approaching a potential partnership I couldn't walk away from.

"I hear you have something you want to discuss?" said Marvin Estes, the senior and managing partner of the Estes Group, gesturing us both to comfortable chairs in his office's sitting area.

Before we'd entered, Courtney had asked me to take the lead because she barely knew the man. After all, she and I had become acquainted when she came to be employed at the firm as its newest paralegal only a few months before. She was as sharp as a tack and was definitely kept busy by the attorneys because she did top-notch, quality work.

It started with signals I wasn't catching until she stepped up her game at the end of a series of non-work-related texts.

Have you not noticed me flirting? 🤓

Truth be told, I thought I had, but was concerned I was misinterpreting things. Plus, there were the professional perils if I was wrong and acted on misinterpreted hints. Workplace sexual harassment claim, anyone? No, thanks.

Her question was the answer I needed, and it put the pin back in the grenade.

I was beginning to wonder. 💭 💡 🤯 😄 I texted after her reveal.

"That's correct, Marv. I⁠—well, both Courtney and I want to be totally and completely transparent and up front with you by letting you know we've entered into a relationship which extends outside the four walls of this building."

The man glanced briefly at Courtney then returned his eyes to me. He was silent for several moments.

"Is that a fact?" he asked evenly.

"Yes. It is," I said. She silently nodded.

The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.

"Peter, is she aware of your turbulent past? Your parents, your sister, and everything which has kept you from what any ordinary person would describe as a normal life for someone your age?"

"I am," Courtney answered instead. "I know their parents passed away during his second year in law school and he became his sister's guardian when she was barely … fourteen years old?" she asked, looking to me.

I nodded.

"I'm also aware of the horrible injury Candace suffered last year and everything that caused. She and I have met a few times, so I know she's doing pretty darned well now. She's a strong woman, and I think, too, that Peter had an awful lot to do with it, considering he helped⁠—no, he didn't help, he basically flew solo as he raised a teenage girl into stable, independent adulthood."

Mr. Estes smiled at her. "I've known Peter for, what, going on ten years? He's a brilliant litigator, as long as he stays inside the lines."

I knew exactly what he was hinting at. I'd briefly left the boundaries by representing my sister in an ill-advised lawsuit she insisted on filing against a woman who, beyond any doubt, saved her life when she'd been shot while jogging by some drunk old man firing a pistol into the air. I was quite deservedly spanked in the record-short case before we settled at my behest.

I chuckled at Marvin, attempting to indicate his barb was received and well-deserved.

"I, too, am aware of his sister's accomplishments, considering she worked for the firm my architect subbed out the interior design for these offices. She assisted in the project right after she'd graduated from CUNY, and I'm enjoying the results of her talent."

I smiled. I was as proud of her accomplishments and career as anyone could be.

"Courtney, you're one of our top performers, and I don't want to lose you, but I'm going to have to restrict your work if you two wish to pursue a relationship outside of the office.

"To avoid any conflict of interest or even the appearance of impropriety, I'm going to prohibit you from assisting Peter with his caseload. Peter, I will similarly prohibit you from requesting her help. Am I clear?"

Courtney and I glanced at each other for a few seconds. She gave me the sideways subtle right brow rise.

"That's perfectly fair," I said.

"Courtney?"

"More than," she succinctly answered.

Marvin smiled. "God, Peter. It's about time you got a social life."

I'd always respected the man. He was approaching retirement, and, of course, any attorney in a well-known firm wonders about the line of succession. I was thrilled at his approval, both personally and professionally.

"You've both impressed me. I'm sure this wasn't exactly a comfortable subject to broach, and I thank you for giving me the heads-up."

My heart felt so light as it caught up with what had just happened.

"Oh! I wanted to ask how things are going between your sister and Kelley Jamil?"

"They've become close. He's been a blessing to her," I answered.

"That's fantastic. For your sake as much as hers, I'm glad she's back to enjoying life."

"Thanks, boss," I said familiarly as we all rose from our seats.

"One more thing. You two should keep your relationship on the down-low and definitely outside of work. I don't want it being a distraction, grist for the rumor mill, or the subject of conversations around the water cooler, okay?"

"Understood," I answered, and Courtney nodded.

That day, Courtney and I shuffled some work to other paralegals and attorneys who were agreeable to take it. Right then, we knew, with the yoke removed and shoulders unburdened, we were free to experience a new level of intimacy for the first time, and she agreed to come to my house.

"What's going through your mind right now?" she whispered as we drove to my home in Palos Hills. She'd taken my hand and placed it on the inside of her left thigh at the hem of her skirt.

"Same as yours, hopefully." I grinned, sliding my hand carefully higher to feel the soft skin of the leg hidden under the cloth.

"Yeah."

"I wish your skirt was a little looser," I groaned because my hand couldn't go any higher than a few inches without having to bend awkwardly, which would make me a hazard on the highway.

She giggled. "No, you don't. I noticed you checking out my butt a couple of times today."

She was absolutely correct. I had. It was beautifully shaped inside its navy blue, gray pinstriped wrapper.

"My skirt, or you. I don't know which I want to get off first," she teased, rubbing the front of my trousers to find my awakening flesh. She brought my palm to her breast.

I softly pawed it and mewled before removing it from her warmth. "You're gonna get us in a wreck," I whimpered.

I had to take two deep breaths to calm myself and rapidly changed the subject.

"Did our meeting with Marvin turn out the way you thought?"

"It was so weird. Since we both work for him, it sorta seemed like I was asking Daddy for permission to get naughty with my brother ."

"Oh, that's just wrong , Courtney!" I shuddered. "I hope I'm going to be able to get that thought out of my mind. I've almost lost the mojo you started."

"You sure?" she asked, tilting her hips in her seat a little, taking my hand and putting it under her butt. I accepted her offering and gave it a gentle stroke and squeeze.

"Skirt first. Then you. Then me," I said in a proposed solution to her earlier indecision.

She laughed when I tickled her upturned cheek.

The snarled traffic slowed to a stop and forced our physical play to cease. We didn't want other drivers to see our antics. The commute to my house was agonizingly slow due to what was most likely a minor fender bender involving people apparently ignorant of the Illinois law requiring them to get completely off the highway if able.

The sensations I felt as Courtney lightly traced her fingertips up and down my inner thigh soon made me so horny, I had to unbuckle my seat belt for a few seconds to shift things around.

"Me, too. I hope it isn't showing through the back of my skirt or getting on your upholstery."

As soon as I heard that, I decided the risk of getting a ticket or a flat tire for driving about three hundred yards on the outer shoulder would be worth it. The surface streets had to be moving faster, and I diverted toward the next exit. Once we'd bypassed the accident and rejoined the interstate, the remainder of the commute was completed in twenty minutes.

"Nice place," Courtney said as I turned into the driveway of my house.

"Come inside," I said.

She grinned cheekily. "Soon we'll both be cum⁠—"

"No! Don't say it or I might do it right here on the driveway, I groaned, grasping her hand and leading her through the garage door then into my house and bedroom where I intended to make good on my earlier promise.

I didn't even wait for her skirt to come off. I knelt on the floor, ran my hands up the backs of her thighs, raising her skirt's hem, and grasped her glorious haunches. When she finally unfastened the garment, it fell down around both of my forearms. I lowered it to the floor where she kicked it aside. While her foot was elevated, I removed its shoe, then did the same for the other before I buried my face into the apex of her thighs. Her feminine fragrance sizzled in my sinuses.

"I need to taste you," I hissed, encouraging her to slip her panties off. I knew I was in for a treat when I saw the unmistakable extent of her arousal in the gusset.

The mousy squeals, squeaks, and mewls she emitted as I insinuated my tongue between her lips to lick her pea gave me goosebumps. She pulled upwards on her mound to bring things to easier reach. I had to force myself to remember to breathe as she grasped at my hair.

"I need a few minutes," I panted after I'd become intimately familiar with my lover's scents, flavors, and the sounds of the growls and grunts she made as each of her orgasms struck. I nuzzled her ginger-furred flesh, adoring how its thick but nicely manicured hair tickled my nose and lips.

"No! I don't want to wait!" she shouted, grasping me by my belt. I lost my pants and briefs quickly.

She took my hardened shaft in a hand, guiding me to the bed she scuttled onto, then aimed me toward the source of the feast I'd enjoyed.

"Courtney, it's been years," I warned. "I don't think I'll be able to hold out for long."

"Don't worry. It's okay, baby. I'm yours. This is for you. Enjoy ," she encouraged, stroking her fingers alongside her butterflied slit.

Her endearment penetrated my soul. I felt the tingle begin to grow as my glans penetrated her. I pushed into her with a shove.

"Owie , baby! You gotta go slow at first," she yelped with a grimace that made my heart hurt.

"Go slowly," she encouraged after several moments.

I watched her face give me the feedback I needed, learning from her expressions as her body accommodated mine. When her smile returned, I ramped up my energy.

"Yeah⁠—that's it … screw me, Peter!" she commanded after her fluids had coated me thoroughly.

I began to vigorously pound her pelvis.

"Courtney !" I cried out as I explosively erupted into her.

It didn't matter that we were dressed from the waist up. She held me in a tender embrace as my shallow panting slowed to deeper breaths. Still connected, she kissed me softly. It might have been the first we'd shared that day.

"Can you lift up a little?"

I was worried I was smothering her, so I began to pull out.

"No, don't. Not yet," she said.

I felt her move her right hand down to our union.

"Just stay there," she whimpered.

Looking into each other's eyes, I smiled when I realized she was stimulating herself with me inside her. I could feel her fingertips brushing the top of my root. I would have moved, but I was already softening and didn't want to risk falling out of her.

"Oh, yes ." She sighed when her eyes rolled back.

She spread her legs even wider and wrapped her calves behind my knees. Her pelvic muscles spasmed rhythmically. When my softened phallus slipped out of her, I apologized for having only lasted a minute or two.

"Baby, don't say that." She smiled. "God. Your tongue is magic, and your cock makes me feel so full and whole. The feeling of you inside me got me so close to number three … I wasn't going to let it get away."

Her tone was tender, serene, and wooing. She started giggling when her thumb snagged the collar of my shirt. I think she realized just then that we were still half dressed. I scooched off of her and we made the problem disappear. I drew back the covers of my bed and we held each other tenderly.

"Peter?" she whispered as I softly tickled her arm with my fingertips.

"Yeah?"

"You said it'd been a long time for you."

"Yeah."

"You don't have to tell me, but I'm curious⁠—"

"Not since law school. Being basically thrust into the role of a single parent, and of an angsty teenage girl who also happened to be my sister, no less … well, it put a huge damper on everything. I'd been forcefully shifted from being a student with a social life to one with hefty responsibilities at home.

"My girlfriend at the time apparently had no patience for it at all and cut things off with me. She wasn't even there to support me through my own grief. I quickly learned that keeping a dating life in the mix was impossible."

"Remind me how old Candace is now?"

"She's almost twenty-five."

"So, ten years, huh? You weren't kidding."

"Nope," I said, popping my lips on the p for emphasis.

She rolled back over to face me, nestled her head in the pillow, and studied my facial features with a sweet, relaxed smile. She softly stroked my cheek and the edge of my ear.

She looked me in the eyes and whispered, "I am so glad we've broken your drought."

"Me, too," I whispered back before kissing her.

We cuddled in silence for a little while.

"What was her name?" she asked.

"Seriously? You want to dig into an ex-girlfriend from ten years ago?" I chuckled.

"I'm only curious about any woman who couldn't be bothered to care for a grieving and suddenly overburdened boyfriend. Mine was there for me when my mom died, but his job transferred him to Seattle. I wasn't willing to follow him to the northwest, so we split up."

"I'm sorry, Courtney. I didn't know you lost your mother."

"I know you didn't. It's okay. It was almost two years ago," she said, softly tousling the hair on my chest.

We changed the subject, cuddling and snuggling in the bed together. She fell asleep first.

The next morning, I cooked us a quick breakfast then drove her back to her place on the way to work so she could at least change clothes and drive herself to the office.

When I returned home that evening, I nuked some leftover Chipotle and plopped onto the couch to binge-watch and chill. I saw something out of the corner of my eye which, when I retrieved it, led me to send a text.

Heya. Can anyone else see ur screen?

No why? Courtney replied.

I found something of yours under a throw pillow on the couch.

Yeah?

You forget them?

I was left on read for a minute.

You're a smart guy so do you really think women forget their panties? 😶

I don't know?

They might if trying to make an escape before getting caught by someone else 🤣

Uh 😤 ?

Ur angry??

Oops. 👃 ?

😉   💋🥕

Her final emojis made me forget about dinner while I enjoyed her "forgotten" cute little satiny treat with the purpose she'd apparently intended.

Weekends were no longer boring, lonely affairs relegated to only reading law journals or flying radio-controlled airplanes by myself. She really got a kick out of zooming my Siig Mid-Star 60 through the sky at the RC field using a buddy box attached to my Futaba transmitter. What sane human doesn't love the smell of nitromethane glow fuel exhaust in the morning?

"Hey, babe? Can I use your laptop to buy the tickets? The iPhone app is sending me in circles. Bringing up their website in Safari punts me right back to the app," I called out from the adjacent living room of her apartment while she finished getting herself together for our date.

It wasn't a work laptop. Paralegals aren't issued one because they use desktops at the office and iPads to access them remotely when needed. The one I had at hand was her own.