Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

T hursday. It’s been almost a week since Bentley handed in her notice. Things at the office have been fucked. Xavier’s being sued by some crazy fucking ex-employee—we’re all working on finding a way to make sure he wins that case.

Bentley still hasn’t reneged on her resignation, no matter how many times I’ve asked her to. We have a meeting with Mark Kemp and his solicitors today. I’m nervous that his presence is going to upset her. But I’m also hopeful that her attendance will make her realise if she leaves the firm, she’s leaving this case. And I know how much she wants to win the claim against Kemp. I know she wants to clear her father’s name and get him the justice he and his family deserve.

I’m not going to lie. I’m working harder on this case then I ever have on anything else. Because of her. I want to make sure our claim is ironclad. For her. Even if she does go through with her resignation, I will make sure I win this fucking suit for her.

I pick up the phone and call through to Tracey.

“Mr Miller?” she asks.

“Can you call Bentley? Tell her I need to see her, and then you can take an extra-long lunch break.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay. I’ll call Miss Johnson now.”

“Thanks, Tracey.” I hang up the phone.

Tracey has been my secretary for years now. She never misses a beat. I couldn’t survive without her help. But having her hear what I’m planning on doing to Bentley, from where the woman is perched on the other side of the door, isn’t something I want to expose my aging secretary to. No, my luck, she’ll have a heart attack and then the firm will have a sexual harassment and a wrongful death suit on its hands. Besides, I respect Tracey and I don’t want her to think differently of me or Bentley.

Bentley knocks on my door. “You wanted to see me.”

“Always.” I smile at her. “Come in. Lock the door behind you,” I tell her before pressing the button to fog the glass walls, to give us the privacy we’re going to need.

Bentley walks in. “Not there,” I tell her right as she goes to sit in a chair on the opposite side of my desk.

“Where would you like me to sit, Mr Miller?”

“Around here.” I scoot backwards in my chair, creating a space between myself and my desk.

When she steps around and leans on the edge in front of me, I reach my hands up her skirt. “You’re not going to need these,” I tell her, pulling her panties down her legs. I lift her right ankle so she can step out of them once they hit the floor. I slide the material of her skirt higher, so it bunches around her waist, before picking her up and sitting her on my desk.

“I thought you wanted to do work things?” she says.

“I do. We’re having lunch together. Are you hungry, Bentley?” I ask her, spreading her legs. I place one foot on each of the armrests of my chair. Her glistening, bare pussy is right at eye level, and my mouth salivates at the sight. Inhaling, I can smell her aroma. I want her taste on my tongue. But I’m going to make her squirm first.

“I’m not hungry,” she says.

“I made you lunch.” I pick up the wrapped sandwiches I packed this morning. I don’t usually bring something in, but I wanted to eat with her today, and I didn’t want to waste time by going anywhere. “Chicken and avo,” I tell her, handing her the sandwich.

“You made me lunch?” she questions.

“I did. Eat.” I take a bite out of my lunch, all the while staring at the dessert that’s waiting for me. “Bentley, eat. The sooner you finish your food, the sooner I get to enjoy my dessert,” I tell her.

She promptly does as she’s told. By the time we’re both finished our sandwiches, she’s squirming on my desk. Her inner thighs glisten with her wetness.

“I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time for dessert.” I lean in and slowly drag my tongue up the middle of her wet folds.

“I agree,” she moans, leaning back while using her forearms to prop herself up on the desk.

“Get comfy, baby girl. I’m gonna be down here for a while,” I tell her before diving back in.

I lick, suck, nibble, and repeat. She’s drenched. No matter how much I lap up, she’s producing more for me. I push my tongue into her cunt, curling it and circling it around. My fingers dig into her inner thighs, pulling them as far apart as they’ll go.

“I fucking love eating you out,” I say, moving my mouth and attention back to her clit. Flattening my tongue out, I press it onto the hard little bud. Over and over.

“Oh fuck, Nathan!” Bentley moans, before sitting up straighter and gripping my hair with her fingers. She tugs at the ends, pulling me away from her before changing her mind and pushing me harder into her mound.

I insert two fingers into her pussy and circle them around. She grips onto them like they’re a lifeline. Her inner walls convulse around my fingers and her body spasms. I look up to see her mouth open in a beautiful O-shape. I’m sure she’d love to be screaming right now, but she’s holding it in. As much as I want to hear those screams, I think it’s better for both of us that she remains quiet. Her thighs squeeze the sides of my head as the orgasm passes through her. When her legs flop down and her body relaxes, I stand from the chair. Taking her face in my hands, I slam my lips down onto hers.

When I pull away from her, I smirk. “Now that is the kind of lunch break you can only get working here. Still wanna quit?” I ask her.

“My will to quit is wavering,” she huffs out, trying to catch her breath.

I pick her up and tug her skirt back over her legs. Walking over to the bar fridge, I pull out two bottles of water and hand her one.

“Water? That’s what I get for dessert?” she pouts.

“What were you expecting?” I ask her, taking a gulp from my own bottle.

“Cake, cookies, cock. Any of the three Cs would suffice,” she says, causing me to spit out a mouthful of water.

“The three Cs?”

“Three things I can’t live without, all starting with C.”

“Do you have one of these lists for every letter of the alphabet?”

“I do. Doesn’t everyone?” she counters.

“No, Bentley. Not everyone is insane.” I laugh. “So what’s on your list for the letter N?” I ask, curious as to what she has to say.

“That’s easy. Netflix, Nutella, and Nathan.” She smiles.

Can’t say I’m not fucking glad I made the list.

“Well, if I did have a list, my favourite Bs would be Bentley, baby girl, and Bentley’s breasts,” I say.

“Good to know.” She laughs.

Three hours later, I walk into the conference room. Bentley is already there waiting. I had no doubt she’d be the first to arrive. “How you feeling?” I ask her.

“Fine. You?”

“Good.” I sit down next to her. “You know, you don’t have to do this. If it gets to be too much, you can walk out,” I tell her.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a really long time, Nathan. I’m not going to fuck it up.”

“I don’t think you will. I just want to make sure you know that you can leave if you want to.”

“Thank you.”

Tracey knocks at the door. “Your appointment has arrived, Mr Miller,” she says.

“Great. Send them in,” I say.

“Nathan Miller, George Pecker.” Kemp’s lawyer holds his hand out as he introduces himself.

I stand to return the gesture. “This is my associate… Miss Johnson.” I introduce Bentley to the attorney while staring down Kemp, who pales a little when he sees her.

“Miss Johnson.” Pecker nods before sitting down. “My associate, William Jackson, and my client, Mark Kemp.” He continues before glancing from me to Bentley. “I don’t see your client here, Mr Miller. Are we expecting him?”

“We are not. Let’s get started.” I open the manilla folder.

The meeting dragged on for over an hour. Bentley held her own throughout the entire thing. Asking questions where they needed to be asked and taking notes like the diligent student she is. She didn’t miss a beat at all. I couldn’t be any fucking prouder.

Pushing to my feet while signalling the conclusion of our initial arbitration, I shake Pecker’s hand before moving on to his associate. I don’t offer the same courtesy to Kemp. I’ll never shake that man’s hand.

“You know your father couldn’t beat me. You won’t be able to either, Bentley. But kudos to you for trying, sweetheart.” The fucker grins in her direction.

“It’s Miss Johnson. And I won’t need to try very hard. This is an open-and-shut case, Mr Kemp,” Bentley fires back.

“The only thing open and shut about this case is your legs. I hear you’ve been opening them for your boss. Your father would be ashamed of you if he were here.”

I move on autopilot. I don’t think. I just do. Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m around the table and my right fist is connecting with Kemp’s jaw. He falls to the ground. “Get your client out of my office,” I tell Pecker.

“You’ll regret that. I’m going to fucking own you, fucker. You all saw. He attacked without provocation. I’m pressing charges,” Kemp spits out as he rolls to his knees on the floor, stands, and dusts off his jacket.

“I saw nothing. You?” Pecker looks to his associate.

“No, sir, not a thing.” The young kid smiles.

“What? You fucking idiots work for me.” Kemp’s face couldn’t get any redder than it is right now. He’s fuming. Steam is practically billowing out of his ears.

“Not anymore, we don’t. We quit. Find yourself another attorney. I don’t represent scum,” Pecker says before turning around to me. “Nathan, sorry to waste your time today. Miss Johnson, I apologize on behalf of my former client,” he says before walking out the door, his associate hot on his trail.

“I will fucking end you. Both of you. For this,” Kemp seethes.

“Try it, motherfucker. I dare you,” I hiss back, positioning myself between him and Bentley, who has come to stand beside me.