“Those vows are already broken, Dr. Keaton. Call your wife. Tell her you know about the affair.”
“Sorry, Ms. Oliver. You might be able to manipulate the cops, but it’s not going to work on me.”
Avery’s face darkens at my use of her name. She holds my stare as she reaches into the expensive-looking handbag next to her on the ledge and pulls out a cell phone in a rose-gold case. With no more than three or four taps, she holds the device up to reveal the words Heather Keaton and dialing … on the screen. Then, she presses the speaker button.
I can barely hear the ringing, so I move closer, stopping a mere foot in front of the psychopath on the ledge.
Like a good little puppet.
“Hello?” my wife answers, and my guts twist.
“Heather! Good afternoon! It’s Avery Oliver. I hate to bother you, but I was just looking over the prenuptial agreement you sent over, and there’s a little adultery clause I need to touch base with you about. It says here that in the event of an extramarital affair you get nothing, so I want to be extra sure that your husband won’t find evidence of any kind of…indiscretion…on your part.”
“Oh.” Heather goes silent. “What, um…what kind of evidence?”
I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Avery watches me with a look of triumph as I struggle to process this information. “You know, cell phone records, text messages, emails …”
“What about Snapchat?”
Oh my fucking God. Heather really is having an affair.
I should be horrified. I should be livid. But all I feel is a slippery, buttery warmth seeping through my veins as Avery reaches out and laces her fingers through mine.
“Snapchat is a lawyer’s best friend.” She laughs. “The messages disappear after they’re viewed, so you should be good. Just don’t use the text feature.”
“Okay.” Heather sighs. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“No problem. Talk soon.” Avery drops the phone back into her designer handbag. Then, she leans forward and wraps her plump lips around the tip of my middle finger where our hands are joined. She does it slowly, giving me those big, round, dick-sucking eyes as she takes my third digit deeper into her mouth.
Fuck me.
“You’re her divorce attorney?” I hiss, my cock swelling as her warm, wet tongue slides along the underside of my finger.
“Mmhmm.” Avery smirks as she releases my finger with a pop. “I sent a flyer and a few e-mails to her office as soon as I figured out that she was screwing the barista, and she took the bait. We just had our initial consultation last week. Once I was sure that she was actually going to leave you, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I had to let you know how I feel.”
“By attempting to seduce me during a therapy session?” I try to sound stern, but it’s kind of hard to remain professional when your client is unfastening your belt.
“You ignored all my other attempts to get your attention.”
“So now you’re threatening to kill yourself?” I swallow. Hard.
“What else could I do? You weren’t taking my calls.” Avery blinks up at me as she slides the zipper of my slacks down tooth by tooth with her left hand, the right one still entwined with mine.
“I…I took an oath,” I stammer. “I could lose my job over this.”
“I’m not your client anymore.”
With a steamy gust of air, three feet of auburn waves swirl around us. Unruly. Out of control. Begging to be tamed. Just like the woman sitting on the ledge before me. Unable to stop myself, I gather her coppery tresses at the nape of her neck and twist them around my fist, desperately trying to remember why this is a bad idea.
Vows?
Broken.
Oath?
She’s not my client anymore.
Psychopathy?
“Wait,” I bark as Avery’s fingertips curl around the waistband of my boxer briefs. “You said you didn’t come on to me until you were sure that Heather was going to divorce me. Why?”
Avery rubs her thumb over the swollen head of my cock where it’s peeking out of my waistband, and my knees almost buckle from the sensation.
“I didn’t want to have that on my conscience. I’m in love with you, Dr. Keaton, but I would hate myself if I were the reason your marriage ended.”
My eyes roll up in the back of my head as her tongue follows the path her thumb just made. “So, you’re saying you would feel…remorse?”
“Mmhmm…” she mumbles, tightening the grip she has on my hand while inching my