“But why?”
Sarah shrugged. “He has friends with special interests, and he’s a bigger prick than we ever suspected.”
Maria sucked in a disturbed breath and blew out with tight lips. “What are you going to do?”
Sarah didn’t have a clue, really. “I’m going to take a long walk off the Golden Gate at lunch time. Wanna watch?”
Ignoring the comment, Maria sat down in the leather armchair directly in front of Sarah’s desk. “Fucking Wright. I always knew he was a sadistic SOB, but this? Wow. Just wow.”
“I think I have to talk to Colton and tell him what’s going on. Maybe he’ll take pity on me and do his time.” What other option did Sarah have? If she blew the whistle now, Wright would do everything in his power to make sure she looked guilty as hell. She couldn’t lose everything she’d ever worked for. She couldn’t go to jail—a possible outcome. They did horrible things to judges in prisons. “I just need to get Colton to behave, and it will all be okay.”
“Maybe show him your boobs again,” Maria offered.
Sarah narrowed her eyes.
“Sorry. Just a suggestion.”
“You can make it up to me by getting Colton to meet me by my car after his sentencing.”
“How do I do that?” Maria asked.
“You’ve got a gun. Figure something out. Just make sure he comes alone.”
“Okay, but I want free babysitting for a month and you have to draw a picture of his penis for me.”
Sarah made a sour face. “You already get free babysitting and…what the hell is the matter with you? This is not the time to be cracking jokes and acting like a perv.”
Maria patted the pistol holstered on her belt. “I got the gun, remember? I can do anything I like.” She stood and went for the door. “I want veins and everything.”
“Ohmygod! You’re sick! Go!” Sarah knew Maria was joking, probably only trying to lighten her mood, but sometimes, she wasn’t so sure. In any case, things just got real. And Sarah would be depending on a wild rock star to keep her out of jail.
I better call my mom and say goodbye.
Shortly after, Sarah left her chamber, as ready as she’d ever be to face the man who’d effectively placed her entire fate on the edge of a very fucking sharp knife. All because he had made her irrational, sexually flustered, and reduced her to an animal in heat. All when she truly had zero real-life interest in him. Her type—as boring as it might sound to some—was more of the daddy material. Every girl knew the type. He was the kind of guy you looked at and knew he’d be good at packing lunches, kissing boo-boos, and changing diapers. He was faithful, dependable, and loving. Daddy material.
That was not Colton Young. He’s deadbeat daddy material.
But still, she couldn’t deny that being in his presence made her blood flow a little faster and her panties a little hotter.
What was it exactly?
Her only explanation was that she’d gone through a bad-boy obsession phase in her teens, one that had ended with her almost going to juvy and having her heart broken a million different ways. Perhaps it had left her scared in some subconscious, fucked-up, daytime Maury confessions sort of way. Just maybe.
Well, today’s interaction with Colton would be different. She would not get tongue-tied. She would not get it on in some bathroom with this man and his giant shlong, and she would absolutely not order him to take off his pants when she meant he should take off his stupid hat.
Sarah straightened her blue scarf and tucked the ends into the front of her robe before smoothing back her hair and giving her ponytail a little tug of confidence. You are a goddamned judge, not some teenage bimbo. You are confident and firm. Your ass is so on the line, so don’t fuck this up.
She pulled on the door leading to the courtroom and felt her insides liquefy.
CHAPTER FIVE
Colton Young sat at the defendant’s table, wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, looking sexier than ever. He held a miniature notepad and frantically scribbled.
Oh, great. It was probably the same pad of paper she’d seen him writing on immediately following her little whiskey-sour birthday screw.
He didn’t appear nervous for a man in court—those broad delicious shoulders pushed back into his chair, and his long, muscular legs—encased in worn but very expensive-looking chocolate-brown leather pants—stretched out underneath the table.
Nope, not one bit nervous. He’s totally chill.
Would that change the moment he saw her again and realized he’d put his dick into her a few nights ago?
Sarah sighed at the unwelcome, but deliciously salacious, mental image of his very thick, hard-as-nails cock sliding into her. He’d stretched her to the limit and filled her so completely that she’d felt every velvety inch of him, every movement, every push. He’d been the first man to ever make her woman parts fire on all cylinders and light up like sparklers.
The goddamned Christopher Columbus of my vagina.
Sarah drew a breath of cool air, hoping it might circulate its way into her underwear, while the court clerk dutifully gave the “all rise,” which Colton completely ignored.
Sarah sat and exchanged what-the-hell? glances with Maria. “Well?” Sarah mouthed, jerking her head in the direction of Mr. Sexy Pants.
“All rise!” Maria repeated loudly. This time Colton’s attorney gave his client a quick shoulder squeeze.
Colton looked up at Sarah with those sultry hazel eyes. “Oh. Yeah.” As slow as a lazy, good-for-nothing slug, he pried himself from his chair, scratching the side of his head. Today, he wore his silky caramel brown hair back in a mad ponytail that had probably been done yesterday, endured some serious bed-play, and was slept in.
His attorney leaned sideways into Colton and whispered something.
“My apologies, Your Honor,” Colton said with a deep, raspy voice that sounded so sensual and seductive that Sarah was one hundred percent sure she wasn’t the only female in the room who’d carefully cataloged the sound for a good rub-out later tonight.
Colton looked at Sarah with the utmost boredom. Even the slope of his sagging right shoulder and jutting left hip screamed, “You’re nothing to me! Completely forgettable.”
He hadn’t recognized her on Friday night, but surely now? Surely after he’d kissed her and ran his thumb over her bottom lip and stared into her eyes as he was about to come?
Sarah glowered in shock, still expecting a modicum of recognition, only to find dispassion.
“What?” Colton shrugged at her.
What a fucker! That’s what! “Mr. Colton, so lovely to see you again,” she said through clenched teeth and a fake smile. “I understand you’re eager to begin your sentence and pay your debt to society?”
Colton’s lawyer quickly shuffled through the papers on the table and held out a sheet. “That’s right, Your Honor. And we are pleading the court for leniency given my client’s charitable work and track record as an upstanding citizen of the community.”
Yes. He’s a regular kitten rescuer. As Colton’s attorney recited a long, long list of reasons why Colton should not be given anything but the minimum sentence for his misdemeanor, Sarah couldn’t help but feel the fight bubbling inside her.
She’d told herself on Friday that she would give Colton a sentence that would teach him a lesson. He needed to feel a little pain because the path he was on didn’t serve the greater good. He was a role model to the youth. He was also a talented musician. So if he didn’t change course now, he’d be throwing it all away and disappointing the millions of fans who looked up to him.
But on the other hand, she couldn’t treat him differently because he was famous. He deserved fair treatment like anyone else.
All this led her to one simple thought: If Colton Young were anyone else, she would not be throwing the book at him. She would be urging him to turn his life around. Everyone deviated from the path of good at one time or another. Some never got back on it,
but others did. And, in Colton’s case, he’d been falsely accused by an officer of the law. In short, giving this man a stern warning and thirty days’ community service was not an unfair ruling. It was very possible she’d land in this exact same spot if none of this other bullcrap had happened.
Sarah lifted her chin. At the very least, she would do right by this man. One tiny piece of justice would still be served.
The attorney finished speaking, and Sarah reluctantly met Colton’s piercing gaze. “The court hereby sentences you to thirty days’ community service. You are ordered to report to…” Fuck. Where did I put the do-gooder, publicity fuck-fest halfway house Wright wanted me to send him to?
Sarah reached to unzip the front of her robe and froze. I’m wearing clothes, right?
Idiot. Of course you are! She couldn’t help it, though. She had nightmares all the time about going to work and being naked under her robe. Then she’d forget and flash the courtroom. There was definitely some hidden meaning in it.
Yeah, I’m afraid of being a flasher.
Sarah opened her robe, reached into the pocket of her slacks, and pulled out the paper, handing it to Maria to pass to Colton’s attorney.
“Mr. Young,” Sarah said in her sternest voice, “hundreds of thousands of young people look up to you, and I think you’re doing the community a disservice by constantly having run-ins with the law. I want you to recognize that you’re being given yet another chance. Don’t waste it. And don’t let me see you in my courtroom again.”
Colton tipped his head to one side as if studying her, but didn’t speak.
“Mr. Young?” Sarah half growled, and his attorney elbowed him.
“Oh. Yes, Your Honor.”
“Good.” Sarah smacked her gavel and stood, giving the infamous playboy one last look. Oddly, he still stared as if confused. Really, really confused.
She went to her chamber and let out a loud sigh the moment she heard the click of her door.
And that is how you do it. She gave herself a little fist bump. Colton Young had not rattled her cage. Your superpowers have been terminated.
“Good job, Miss Alma. Now tell me how you intend to make sure our famous rock star abides by your sentence.”
Stifling a groan of disgust, Sarah looked up to find Darth Wright standing in her doorway five minutes after sentencing had ended.
“Well?” He crossed his pencil arms over his weakling chest.
“Uhhh…” Honestly, she hadn’t gotten that far in her plan. And, frankly, she might be sitting at her desk, looking relaxed, but at any moment, Maria would text her and tell her if she had or had not persuaded Mr. Leather Pants to go down to the garage to talk to “someone of interest” about something very “important.”
Sarah gave Wright a nod. “Working on it, sir. All over it.”
His frosted brows knitted together. “I hope you mean that because my reputation is riding on this.”
Horrible man, you disgust me. He only worried about himself. Not about what he’d done to her. Not about the oath he’d taken or the Code of Ethics he’d broken.
Sarah’s phone buzzed on her desk. She ignored the sound in hopes she would get rid of Wright, her own personal nightmare, more quickly. “Understood, sir.”
He gave her a look. “Fine, then. I want a full report next week on how Mr. Young is progressing. No surprises.”
“Yes, sir.”
With a hesitant nod, he exited her chamber, and she grabbed for the phone.
Maria: eagle is in the nest
Eagle? What were they, WWI spies?
Sarah: on my way
She sprang from her desk, made her way along the institutional-white hallway lined with tacky gold-framed pictures of the US Supreme Court justices, and then down the stairwell leading to the underground garage.
Sarah pushed the heavy steel security door to find Maria standing in front of Colton, who leaned against Sarah’s red Audi.
Maria jerked her head at Colton. “Ah, here she is. I’ll leave you two alone.”
As Sarah walked past Maria, she whispered, “How’d you do it?”
“I told him there was a security threat and he had to come with me.”
That was so, sooo wrong and so, sooo brilliant. Jesus! Who am I? Now she was crossing all sorts of lines and pulling others into the shady-muck with her.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” Sarah said.
“Sorry? What for? I think this is exciting—nothing fun ever happens in your court,” Maria whispered.
Sarah quirked a brow. “Oh-kaaay.” She gave Maria a pat on the shoulder and approached Colton, who looked beyond pissed.
“I’m guessing there’s no threat,” he snarled. “So what is this? You some psycho groupie?” His hazel eyes simmered, and his square jaw muscles pulsed with tension, as did the thick ropes of muscle on his arms. Arms that were crossed over a chest that she would not stare at nor think about touching to test the pectoral firmness.
Dammit. Just thought about it. “Colton, cut the crap. We need to talk.”
He gave her a sharp look oozing with suspicion.
Okay. He really wanted to act like she was just another lust-crazed fan? “Fine. You want to play it that way, go ahead. But I had you brought down here to warn you; you can’t mess up this community service. There are people in very high places watching you, who will do bad things if you mess up your sentence. One hiccup, one complaint, one little…”
Colton scratched the side of his jaw, deep in contemplation about something. Something else.
“Hey, this is serious. Would you listen to me?” She poked his shoulder.
He glanced down at the spot she’d touched as if she’d violated his VIP airspace. “I’m not sure what this is really all about—some strange fantasy of yours or obsession you have with me—but I’m not into you. So if you don’t mind,” he leaned forward off the car and started walking away, “I have important business to take care of.”
Wow. What a jackass. “I’m trying to help you. And don’t you think you could show a modicum of respect after the other night?”
His back to her, he stopped dead in his tracks and swiveled slowly on the heel of his black biker boot. “What do you mean ‘the other night’?”
Her jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
He stared blankly.
“The club. Friday night.”
He shook his head no.
“Oh, come on.” He had to be messing with her. On the other hand, by the genuine blank look on his face, she didn’t get the impression he was acting.
“The red dress?” she offered in a final attempt to jar his memory, but he continued staring as if he had zero clue. “Ohmygod. You were high, weren’t you?” I should’ve known! Once a bad boy, always a bad boy.
“I do not take drugs,” he growled, stepping forward.
Sarah tipped her head to one side and crossed her arms. “And the drug arrest?” Earlier in the year, he’d been caught with coke at some party he’d thrown in Hollywood, but the charges had been dropped. She knew about it because a picture of him getting hauled off in a squad car was splashed all over the tabloids.
Colton slipped his little notebook from his front pocket and flipped to the second or third page, his eyes scanning.
What in the world is he doing? This rocker was completely off his rocker.
He suddenly looked up at her. “The drugs belonged to a fan. She snuck into my party and planted them in the bathroom.”
Why did he look at his notebook before telling her this? His lawyer probably gave the guy a specific script of what to say when the issue came up. Still, how odd he had to look up such a simple story.
“Fine. Whatever. Just don’t fuck up your thirty days,” she said.
“Why do you give a damn what happens to me?”
Let’s leave that can of worms unopened. “Don’t you want to make your concert date next month? Or do you prefer to let down tens of thousands of fans?”
“That’s not an answer to my question.”
No. Really? But she wasn’t going to tell him the entire story. It was far too humiliating to admit to a stranger, and why drag him into her mess? It would serve no purpose. Besides, it should be enough for him to know there were powerful people who would be very upset if he screwed up. He simply needed to do his thirty days and get on with his life. Easy.
She drew a breath of patience. “I have to get back. I’ll call your attorney in a few days to check on you. Don’t mess this up, Colton.”
Colton was busy writing on his damned little pad of paper, completely ignoring her.
Wow. So he refused to acknowledge they’d slept together, he treated her attempt to help like nothing, and he didn’t have the decency to acknowledge she was speaking.
“You know what? You might be hot as hell, Mr. Young, but that’s all you’ve got going for you.”
He lifted his head and glared. “Don’t forget, I can sing, too,” he said in a fuck-you-too tone.
“Nice. Have a good life, asshole.” She marched away, fuming. Let the man screw up his life and go to jail. What did she care?
Uhhh…because your reputation will be dragged through the mud and you’ll lose your bench if he messes up.
Dammit! She could only pray at this point nothing went wrong. Of course, praying wouldn’t do squat when she already knew the man was an overgrown man-child with a rebellious streak. Sarah would have to keep close tabs on him to make sure he didn’t bail on his service and ruin both their lives.
CHAPTER SIX
For the rest of that day and the two days following, Sarah could not get Colton out of her head. She felt outraged by his aloof, prickish attitude. But worst of all? He’d pretended not to remember ever meeting her at the club.
Had the sex been that unmemorable?
Whatever the case, she’d done everything in her power to get the hell over it but couldn’t. It was time for a little sisterly venting, which was why Sarah called Taylor after work and ranted nonstop the entire way home.
“What a bastard!” Taylor barked through the phone as Sarah marched up her stairs and through the front door. “He pretended he didn’t know what you were talking about?”