Jurisprudence

Warning:  Dub-Con

Eric hung his head between his hands, willing his stomach to quit roiling.  Between that, the brass band playing somewhere just north of his left ear, and the fact that he was parked in a holding cell awaiting booking on an assault charge, it was shaping up to be a banner kind of day.

Groaning, he leaned his head back against the cold, rough concrete behind him, his eyes closed.  He wasn’t even completely sure which particular event of the previous evening had landed him in the current predicament, or if he could even remember the incident at all.  There just seemed to be a lot of fuzzy spots.  He knew the early part of his evening had included driving his latest hot vehicular acquisition, a shiny silver Aston Martin DB9, out to a hot new club, meeting up with some of the hottest women in the city and partying like it was 1999.  He deserved as much to commemorate 26 years of existence, right?  And it’s not like it wasn’t expected of him.  When your Daddy nets a cool fifty million a year and you’re his only kid, it’s pretty much assumed you’re a wild child, right?  There had to be some kind of mandate to that effect somewhere.

Unfortunately, his Dad seemed to have missed that memo.  Eric opened one bloodshot, hazy blue eye a fraction – promptly closing it as the band took that as a cue to play a crescendo.  OF course, it wasn’t like his Dad wouldn’t get him out of this little bit of trouble; he always did.  In fact, the only reason he hadn’t been booked yet was likely that the cops were saving themselves the paperwork – as soon as Daddy’s lawyer set one of his thousand dollar shoes inside the precinct, he’d be sprung and, with a brief interlude for a nap and a shower, he’d be ready to go right back out and hit the party scene again tonight.  

What he wasn’t looking forward to was The Lecture from Dear Old Dad.  At some point, Dad would nab him and sit him down in the office – he was always at the office.  For years Eric had thought he might as well just build a bedroom inside it and be done with it.  The Lecture always went the same way, as if there was a script.  Dad would scowl and begin with “When I was your age…” and then it would segue into the history of all his hard work and how he built the company up from just a single store to the multimillion dollar corporation that it now was.  Then he would start in on how disappointed he was in Eric, which would inevitably lead to the “if only your mother was still here” comment.  At that point, Dad would go pick up her picture off his desk and stare at it for a while before dismissing him with a distracted word or two about behaving.  

Eric frowned.  His memories of his mother were vague and indistinct at best.  Perhaps it really might have changed things had she lived longer.  At the very least, he might have had some semblance of a “normal” life, rather than the series of boarding schools he ran through at the rate of about one a year.  Seems the headmasters of those places hadn’t gotten the wild child memo, either.

A loud clang rattled through the room, jolting him from his thoughts with the force of a splitting maul.  He slit open an eye just long enough to see the cell door open, a uniformed officer standing in the opening.

“You’re free to go, Mr. Jackson.  Do you think we might manage to stay away a tad longer this time?”

Eric smirked at the inquiry, forcing his eyes open all the way even as the bright lights made his head spin.  The expression on the officer’s face said it all - as far as he was concerned, Eric was a spoiled little rich brat with enough money he might as well have been made of Teflon.  Nothing was gonna stick to him – and it pissed him off.

“But Officer Benton, surely you would miss me if I didn’t come to visit.”  Eric winked, straightened his rumpled clothing and moved to brush past the officer, headed for the doorway.

"Don’t worry about me, I know my way out.”  

Officer Benton snorted at that, closing the cell door again with a crashing sound of metal on metal that made Eric cringe.  He, amongst a host of other police officers who knew Eric intimately, would have loved to see him stay right where he was.  The likelihood of that, though, was nil as long as the kid stayed in his father’s good graces.  The question on every mind in the Precinct, and the subject of a good many wagers, was just how long that would last.  

Eric sauntered his way to the exit gate and flashed a million dollar smile at the gate guard, who buzzed him out.  As he entered the mostly deserted outer hallway ready to head for the door and into whatever conveyance the old man had sent to pick him up, he was already contemplating how to top last night’s escapade.  Catching a whiff of a familiar and expensive cologne, Eric stopped short to see, not Daddy’s Lawyer, but another man from the firm holding a seriously pricey briefcase in one hand and the orange plastic bag containing his personal belongings in the other.  The expression on his face was enough to put ice cubes in the River Styx.  It had an instant chilling effect on Eric’s fervor.

Putting the Kane in Reichtoff, Kane, and Tennyson, Justin Kane was a full partner in the law firm his father favored and had a reputation for being truly ruthless.  He had battled his way up through the ranks, leaving quite a bit of blood in the proving ground of the courtroom, very little of it his.  He had features that would not have been out of place in the coliseum; his swarthy face was all sharp angles and planes, military style cropped jet black hair, broad shoulders and a tight build.  He was tall enough that Eric, at 5’7”, had to look up to meet his flint grey eyes.  What he saw in those eyes made him flinch, turning his gaze away and toward the door.  

Wordlessly, the lawyer offered him the baggie of belongings from which Eric withdrew a cell phone, a ring, a leather billfold and a watch that likely cost more than most people’s first car.  He briefly checked for any messages on his cell phone before shoving it and the wallet in his pocket, the ring went on his right ring finger and the watch on his left wrist.  Cracking his neck, Eric pasted on the smile that made the ladies melt and pointed it at the stone faced lawyer.

“Alright then, let’s get out of this dump and get me back on the road,” he quipped, turning to walk down the hall and out into freedom.

Eric gasped as an iron band closed around his upper arm, glancing first at the hand and then up at Kane.  He hadn’t heard the big man move, let alone seen him closing in.

“You think you’re invincible, don’t you Eric?”  Kane growled softly.  Eric hadn’t realized it until they stood this close together, but the lawyer seethed with irritation.  Eric felt his chin come up, a cocky response rising instantly to his lips.

“You’re damned straight I do.  Now, if you don’t mind, I have a party to plan and I need my beauty sleep before I head out tonight.” Eric yanked to pull his arm out of Kane’s grip, grunting with the failed effort.  He’d had no idea the man was so damn strong.

Kane’s grey eyes flashed, his grip tightening on Eric’s arm to the point of being painful. 

“You want to go to jail, Eric?  Is that what you really want?”  Kane drawled, his words holding a keenly sharp edge that sent a shiver down Eric’s spine.  “Perhaps you’d like a better understanding of just what that might be like.”

Eric’s exclamation was cut off as Kane lifted up his shoulder, propelling him down the hallway and into an empty office, kicking the door closed behind them.  The room was apparently some sort of auxiliary office, just a desk and a chair – not even a window into the hallway let alone outside. 

Eric caught his balance just before running into the wall and turned to find Kane calmly setting down his briefcase and loosening his tie.  

“Just what the hell do you think you’re…”  Eric found himself cut off again as Kane stepped into him, grabbed his outstretched hand and spun him around, wrenching his arm up behind his back and slamming him down on the desk.  For a wild moment, Eric found himself wondering if Kane had a second career as a bouncer lined up if the lawyer thing didn’t work out.

“When my father hears about this…” Again, Eric found himself silenced, this time by a sharp backhand that left him tasting blood.  His much beleaguered head spun merrily as he listened to the roar of blood in his ears.  Kane’s voice, low and with that same growling timbre came to him next.“No one gave you permission to speak.  Be silent”

Slightly dazed, Eric tried to shake his head to clear it but stopped as soon as he realized he was only making his hangover worse.  He tried to take a quick stock of his situation – bent over a desk with his arm pinned back behind him in a closed space with a crazy lawyer after getting sprung from jail.  Yep, this really was a banner kind of day.

It was the sudden and altogether unexpected sensation of clothing sliding over skin and cool air on the backs of his legs that brought Eric crashing back to the present.  He struggled momentarily, his face pressed against the cold faux wood surface of the heavy metal desk, but Kane twisted the hold on his wrist painfully until he subsided.  

“What the fuck, man?” Eric spat out, feeling his face flush as he realized that his bare ass faced the door into the hallway.  What if someone heard the commotion and came to investigate?  But then… what if someone didn’t?

Eric sucked in a breath as fire striped his left ass cheek, the crack of Kane’s hand against his flesh ringing in his ears.  He was fairly certain that was going to leave a serious hand print.

“You were told to be silent.  Consider this a lesson in proper behavior.”  Kane shifted his grasp on Eric as he spoke, his hand coming away from his wrist, pressing down instead on the back of his neck.  The lawyer moved to his right, just inside his peripheral vision to the side of the desk.  Whatever Eric had planned to reply with was lost as he took in Kane’s unzipped trousers, his suit jacket unbuttoned and the tails of his Armani shirt untucked and open just enough to see the muscles that rippled in his abs.  Eric felt the sense of shock and fear slip away as, instead, a slow infusion of warmth took its place.  If the rest of his body looked nearly as good as his abs did… He reached out with tentative fingers to touch Kane’s ripped abs, only to have his hand slapped away, the grip on his neck tightening.

“Clasp your hands behind your back. Now.”   

Eric jerked his stinging fingers back, glancing up at Kane, blue eyes bright and wide.  Then he did as he was told.  As he watched, Kane produced a small packet and ripped it open with his teeth.   Eric couldn’t help but watch with fascination as the lawyer’s hand dipped down and into his open pants, pulling out the long tumescence of his cock.  Eric swallowed quietly.  He was pretty sure Secretariat had nothing on Justin Kane.

Kane’s lips pressed together as he stroked his filling cock a couple times, then he reached up and took the condom from between them, pressing it to the far end of the swollen member and unrolling it with a practiced movement.  He moved back out of sight and Eric stifled a startled cry as his feet were kicked out to a wide stance, his body pressed into the cold metal of the desk beneath him.  A slick sensation pressed against his ass and he instinctively leaned back into it.  Eric heard Kane make a muffled sound, then he moaned as first one finger, then two filled and stretched his tight hole.  

He cried out as suddenly they were gone, but were replaced instead with an insistent pressure, slick and hot.  He shifted his weight, eager to get closer, and nearly saw stars when Kane growled low and drove his entire length into him.  The lawyer paused for just a moment, his muscled thighs pressed against Eric’s, before he drew back, almost to the point of pulling out before ramming himself all the way back in.  Eric cried out, breaking his hands apart and reaching to grab the edge of the desk.  Kane loosed his grip on the back of Eric’s neck to retrieve his hands, dragging them back to the small of his back and pinning them there with one hand, returning the pressure to the back of Eric’s neck with the other as he drove him over and over again into the desk, hard and fast.

Eric panted against the warming metal beneath his face, feeling a tightness building in his cock as he rode against the desk.  The sensation became nearly overwhelming, his climax dragging a shout from him as he came hard on the slick metal, Kane right behind him as the rhythmic clenching of his ass pushed the lawyer over the edge with a low sound of satisfaction.

Eric rested heavily against the desk as Kane withdrew, working to catch his breath.  A light colored cloth landed on the desk next to his face.  Slowly, he realized that the pressure on his hands and neck had come away, and he cautiously started to move a hand toward the cloth, wincing slightly at the anticipated strike.  When none came, he slowly reached out and picked up the cloth, smirking to realize it was a monogrammed handkerchief.  JSK.  Seriously?  People still carried these things?

He straightened up from the desk, glancing furtively behind to catch a glance of the lawyer.  Kane zipped his trousers and checked his cufflinks, for all the world looking as though he had just finished dressing to go into the court room.  Eric stared for just a moment.  If he hadn’t known better, he never would have guessed what had just occurred in the tiny office.  At least, not judging by the lawyer.  

Eric made short work of cleaning himself up and putting his clothes back in order.  At least, as much order as could be made after spending most of the night in drunken debauchery and the rest of it in a jail cell.  Kane took the handkerchief from him, opened his briefcase and withdrew a small plastic bag into which he placed the soiled cloth, the condom, and the condom wrapper, sealing it and tucking the whole mess into one of the pockets.  Eric smirked.  Leave it to a lawyer to secret away the evidence.

Eric opened his mouth to speak, but promptly shut it as Kane narrowed his eyes.  A small smile tugged briefly at the corners of Kane’s lips.  

“Ah, we’re learning I see,” Kane murmured with a touch of approval.  He closed the briefcase with a click and picked it up, turned to face his employer’s wayward son and donned once more the stony, cold demeanor that had intimidated the ever living hell out of so many of his opponents.

“Listen carefully, Mr. Jackson.  This is your final chance.  Your father has had quite enough of your antics and I will have none of it.  Should you find yourself in the position of being imprisoned further, you will remain as such until you either complete your sentence or your father sees fit to show you mercy and retains another attorney.  I will, of course, do my level best to see that he leaves you where you are and I think we both know my reputation well enough to realize that I will likely be successful for a very long time.  Neither I, nor any of my colleagues, will free you from your own idiocy again.  Do I make myself clear?”

Eric shivered, the ice in Kane’s voice and eyes chilling him almost more than the words themselves.  He swallowed hard and nodded.  

 

“Yes.”

Kane’s eyes narrowed.  “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”  

Kane inclined his head slightly in what Eric took to be approval.  Grasping the doorknob, the lawyer opened the door just as a pair of Detectives passed by.  They glanced into the unused office blandly, and continued their conversation as they walked through a far door into the Precinct.  Eric could feel himself turning red to the roots of his golden hair.  Kane motioned for him to go and he stumbled into the hallway towards the exit.

“Your father sent a car.  It should be outside.”

Eric nodded solemnly, pushed quickly through the exit door and out, blinking into the early morning sunlight.  Traffic was relatively light and, as he crossed the plaza in front of the police station, there was a black sedan with a driver waiting on the curb for him.  

He slid into the leather of the back seat gingerly, pulling the door closed behind him.  Only then, behind the tinted glass of the window, did he dare to look back at the attorney standing on the plaza stairs.  A shiver that had nothing to do with being cold touched the most sensitive parts of his body as he watched the way the sunlight highlighted Kane’s black hair with gold.  From his pocket, Kane drew out a pair of glasses that instantly turned dark when the light touched them and put them on.  Even so, Eric wasn’t sure we would be able to sleep today without seeing the color of those flint grey eyes.  As the sedan pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic, he watched as Kane withdrew a slim cell phone from another pocket hidden inside the perfectly tailored jacket and brought it to his ear.  He couldn’t help watching the man’s lips move as he spoke to the caller, and realized that he would do damn near anything to find out how they felt against his skin.  

He might just even find a way to stay out of jail.

(See the next piece of the story: Self Help)