The Prison (Book 1)

Flourishing Relationship

Flourishing Relationship

Julian's P.O.V

I cleared my throat to gather my bearings, steeling the expression on my face so that I stopped looking like a gaping fish.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting; I myself was waiting on some news," he said by way of apology.

He came into the room, a magnificent presence that filled the small four-by-six space, and sat at the metal table opposite me. Him being this close -our knees practically brushing the faintest bit- was disconcerting to say the least.

This wasn't my first client; I couldn't be acting this way!

In an effort to distract myself, I asked curiously, "Was it good news?" Then I mentally kicked myself for asking, immensely regretting the question. Why the hell did I care? I was here to do a job and then leave. Nothing more, nothing less.

His smile made my toes curl. "Yes, it was." I could see that he truly had been eagerly waiting for whatever news he had been waiting for.

I had a feeling not much interested someone like him, so I found myself wondering what he'd been waiting for. It was highly uncharacteristic of me to be curious about a client's private affairs; I'd always prided myself on my ability to stay neutral and separate my work from... pleasure.

Yet I stared at him for a moment or two expectantly, waiting for him to share something of him with me. When I realized that he wasn't going to tell me what it was he'd been waiting for, I felt my cheeks color with embarrassment and cleared my throat before I hurriedly recited from memory, "We at Gordon's thank you for your trust in us and hope to-"

"Are you single?"

I blinked. The deeply personal question had come out of nowhere like a sucker punch. "What?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"W-What does that have to do- Wait, d-don't you mean g-girlfriend?" Flabbergasted, I stuttered.

Why the hell is he asking me something so intimate? I wanted to ask him that, but I couldn't quite get the words out of my mouth even though they were hanging wide open from shock.

He didn't look apologetic in the least. Nor did he bother to amend his question like someone who'd blurted out something inappropriate on a whim. Instead, he simply stared at me expectantly with a small, irritating smile at the corners of his lips, looking like I owed him the answer.

Nervous, I shifted in my seat and muttered, "Ah, no... I don't."

And why the hell did I answer him?!

He smiled, looking extremely pleased by the revelation. "Good."

I frowned at that.

Power of Attorney. Get it now. A voice in my head commanded, seizing control before I humiliated myself in front of a potential client. I was glad for it.

Desperate to get things over with so that I could get the hell out of this condemned prison -and, most importantly, escape his piercing gaze- I reached for my briefcase under the table and placed it over the cool surface.

"Before we can formally start representing you, I need you to read and approve our representation agreement and assign us power of attorney." I pulled a stack of papers from inside the briefcase and arranged them before him.

He reached across the table -I froze- and plucked the Mont Blanc pen from my suit's pocket. Without even sparing a glance at the content of the papers, he signed each and every one of them with my pen. He didn't even check the five-figure bill. All the while, he held my gaze hostage, refusing to let me go. I couldn't look away for the life of me; I was being held captive against my will and there was nothing I could do about it.

Once he was done signing the papers, he pushed the papers toward me and surprised me by abruptly getting up and saying, "I have a feeling this is going to be the beginning of a flourishing relationship."

He reached out a hand for me to shake.

Flustered, I quickly rose and took it, completely forgetting the warning I received about touching or allowing the inmates to touch me.

It seemed that they warned you for a legitimate reason.

Before I even had time to register what was going on, I was forcefully pulled into a kiss that melted all my defenses, plunged molten lava through my veins, and set my skin ablaze. Heat suffused my cheeks and shot down my front like a spear straight to my nether region. I gasped against his mouth like an untried virgin (I'd never in my life been kissed like that before), but made no effort to push him off of me.

It only lasted a few moments, but to me, it felt like a lifetime in which time and space ceased to exist, and it was just the two of us in a sea of white.

When his lips abruptly left mine, they immediately missed the warmth of his mouth upon my own, much to my chagrin.

What the hell was happening to me?

And how dare he take such liberties with me?! If I wasn't too stunned still, I would have called for the guards.

"We'll meet again," he promised in a gruff voice that made my toes curl and my spine go ramrod straight.

And it wasn't the only thing that had gone ramrod straight.

He left the room and took my pen with him, leaving me to stare in his wake. When the shock finally wore off, to be replaced by indignation, I fumbled with the papers strewn all over the table and ground and stuffed them into my briefcase.

Flourishing relationship, my ass.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Hope you're ready for The Cage Book 2 because it's coming soon!

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