“Could you do me a favor and have your brother look at his case again? Maybe he missed something.”
Doubtful. “I could, but he was pretty sure there wasn’t anything problematic about Lucas’s arrest.”
“So you’re on the lawyer’s side? I should’ve known you’d change your tune because your brother’s one of them.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t be a fucking asshole. Grady’s the best, and if he says there’s nothing he can do, I believe him.”
Ambrose’s shoulders slumped. “I just wanna help him, you know? Like we wanted people to help us.”
“I know, but if Grady says there’s nothing you can do…” I shrugged, but Ambrose didn’t want to hear it.
“Maybe he’s wrong. I know he’s your brother, but that don’t mean he’s perfect.” He thrust out his jaw, challenging me to react, but I kept quiet, letting him rant. “Lucas said his public defender barely knew his case. You know these Legal Aid lawyers suck.” He checked his phone. “Carly needs me to come home. I’d better go.”
He left, and I gazed at my half-eaten plate. I wasn’t too worried about Ambrose. I never took offense at what he said—I didn’t blame him for not trusting authority. Neither did I. Yet here I was, getting it on with a corporate type. A lawyer, no less. The universe worked in fucking crazy ways.
I took out my phone, searched for Bailey’s address, and called for a car. I’d expected it to be in Tribeca or Chelsea, but it was on the Upper West Side. I didn’t know the area, and when the car pulled up on the tree-lined block of 85th Street between Amsterdam and Columbus, I had to admit it was…charming. I’d figured a corporate type like Bailey would live in a huge, modern apartment building, but these were brownstones. Mostly three or four stories, with bay windows and flowerpots on the windowsills. I checked the number, found the building, and mounted the steps. Bailey Marks lived on the second floor. There was one of those high-tech cameras like I had in my building, and I hit the buzzer. A moment later the lock clicked, and I mounted the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator.
A shirtless Bailey stood waiting for me in the doorway. I strolled up to him and held out my hand. “First things first. My keys?”
A smile curved his lips, and he held them out to me. “Come and get ’em.” And he took off running into the apartment.
“Little shit.” I kicked the door shut behind me and caught up with him in the living room. I tackled him to the couch and pinned him underneath me. My mouth found his, and I plunged my tongue inside. He sucked it like a fucking lollipop, and I ground my hips into his.
“Fuck, Keston,” he panted, digging his fingers into my shoulders.
“Yeah, that.” I pulled off my shirt and watched his eyes widen, a hungry light kindling in their depths. Those full lips fell open, and a red flush rose to his cheeks. “Let’s get to the bedroom.”
I knew that was what he wanted. A bad boy like me giving it to him hard and fast. But Bailey surprised me by wriggling out from under me. “What’s the rush? Want a drink?” He licked his lips, and my dick jerked. “I taste curry. I have beer if you want.”
My breathing now under control, I nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
This wasn’t one of those ultra-modern apartments. It was older with original floors, crown molding, and had a beautiful bay window overlooking the leafy trees lining the street. I wandered around the living room, taken in by the warm atmosphere. Again, this wasn’t the picture I’d already developed in my mind.
“Here.” Bailey reappeared and handed me the bottle. He had a glass of Scotch in his other hand. “L’chaim.”
I tipped the glass. “What you said.” I took a swig and set it on the coffee table. “So you locked everything up?”
He smirked. “It was two locks and an alarm. I managed.”
I glanced at his front door, where there were numerous locks. “I guess you think I’m lax in my security.”
The teasing light in his face vanished. “You can’t be too careful.” He took a drink. “I’ve seen too many cases of people who trust blindly, to their detriment.”
“Your clients? You do criminal law?”
Lost in thought, Bailey didn’t answer me, and I studied him. Angular jaw, dark with stubble, high slash of cheekbones, and a strong nose. He must’ve felt my stare, because he raised his gaze to meet mine. “What? Oh, yeah. I’m in general practice. Solo. I do a little of everything.”
“Not many of those left. All the lawyers I’ve known are with firms.” My lips thinned. “Or Legal Aid.”
“Overworked and underpaid,” Bailey said. “I did a stint with them for a while out of law school.” He finished his drink and set the empty glass by my beer. “Are we sharing résumés?” His mouth kicked up in a sexy grin. “Or body parts? I vote number two.” His fingers twirled the silver chain hanging from my neck and tugged gently. “I’ve been waiting for hours for what you promised me.”
The air rose heavy with heat and the potential of sex. My cock thickened, and I cupped his cheek. “I was ready when I walked in.”
Bailey’s eyes glinted. “I tried to be a good host. Didn’t want you to think I was only after you for your body.”
“I don’t care,” I growled, rough and ready, and he laced our fingers together and pulled me with him to the shadowed bedroom. Like before, he tugged at the sweats and my briefs, but this time I kicked them off completely and stood naked.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he rasped as he undressed. Even in the dimly lit room, I could see the fire in his eyes, and I grasped my cock at the base.
