The Cartel Lawyer by Dave Daren (ebook reader below 3000 TXT) 📕

“I can make breakfast and coffee before you go,” she said as she stood. “You can leave after that. You didn’t get much sleep last night, and I’d be worried about you driving if you didn’t at least have one cup of coffee.”

“I appreciate that,” I said as I finished getting dressed. “But I only have a few minutes before I need to call my contact back. And I’ll need privacy to talk to him.”

“Who is it?” she asked as she strolled over to her closet and pulled out a dress.

Her hips swayed with each step, and the light cotton dress caressed every curve as she slipped it over her head. She mesmerized me with everything she did, and I cursed myself for needing to leave when I could spend a lazy morning with the Brazilian bombshell.

“Someone I need to talk to about a case,” I hedged.

She turned to look at me with her beautiful honey brown eyes as her head tilted to the side as she studied me, and then her bottom lip shifted into a small pout when I stayed quiet. I told myself to stay strong and not tell her anything, or I’d never leave, and Osvaldo’s plan would be dead before he could even launch it.

“You can’t tell me who it is?” she asked with a small smile.

She ran her hands up the inside of my shirt and tingles erupted everywhere her delicate fingers traced. She stood on her tiptoes to run kisses along my jawline, but I gently pushed her away so that I could think clearly and not blurt out the judge’s name.

“No, I can’t,” I said with an apologetic smile as I put my finger under her chin and claimed a quick kiss.

I took a look around the small loft area she used as her bedroom to make sure that I wasn’t leaving anything behind. I had my phone, wallet, and keys in my jeans’ pockets. I found my shoes near the small window that looked out to the warehouse next door where they’d been thrown over in our haste to get into bed. They were buried underneath the shorts and crop top that Eloa had been wearing, and I tried to ignore both as I reclaimed my footwear.

The socks were dirty, and I just couldn’t bring myself to put them on, so I stuffed them in my back pockets and slid my feet into my sneakers. I hated the feeling of my bare feet in shoes, but it would only be until I could reach my apartment so I ignored the mystery dampness in the shoes and smiled at Eloa.

“Well, what’s your call about?” the tenacious reporter asked as she lingered near the top of the spiral staircase.

Her eyes glittered with mischief as she watched me cross the open area to her, and she licked her lips as her eyes ran over me and back up.

“It’s confidential,” I told her as I waited for her to move out of the way so that I could go downstairs.

She puffed out her cheeks and narrowed her eyes as she stepped out of the way. She was a reporter, and I knew that not answering her questions would only make her more curious, but I was a lawyer, and there would be things that I couldn’t tell her.

“Alright, alright,” the beautiful woman grumbled as she followed me down to the first level. “I’m going to brew some coffee while you’re in the bathroom. Do you want me to make you a cup? You can just bring the mug back next time you visit.”

I grinned at the implication that she wanted to spend another night together. She was an amazing woman, and I could easily see myself in a relationship with the gorgeous reporter. Though, I would have to make sure that my passwords were strong so she wouldn’t be able to access any of my client’s information.

“Sure,” I said with a nod before I went into the only bathroom in her apartment.

It was tucked underneath the loft with bookshelves on either side of the door, and I half-expected it to be a tiny little room. But I was pleasantly surprised when I flicked on the light and saw that it was a full-sized bathroom with glittering white tile, a shower with glass walls, and a clawfoot tub that would easily fit the both of us. I used the restroom, washed my face, and ran some water through my chaotic mass of waves until it didn’t stick out everywhere like I’d stuck my finger in a socket.

My fifteen minutes were almost up when I emerged from the room, but the smell of coffee wafted over me, and I drifted over toward Eloa instead of the door. She had a steaming mug of the dark brew waiting next to a bottle of vanilla caramel creamer and a spoon.

“That’s one of my favorite mugs,” she said as she nodded toward the black mug with a spyglass on it.

She was sitting on the kitchen’s island with one muscular leg crossed over the other. The hem of her cotton dress had slipped back to show a generous amount of her thighs, and the fabric clung to her unbound breasts. She lifted her pink unicorn mug to her lips and took a long sip of her coffee, and I stood mesmerized by the sight of her for a moment.

“I’ll make sure to bring it back,” I reassured her as I shook my head and then dumped copious amounts of creamer in my cup. “Thank you for the coffee. And last night. I’ll call you later to figure out when you’ll come over to my place.”

“Okay,” she said with one of her thousand kilowatt smiles. “I’ll be going into the studio a little later,