Little Miss and the Law (6 page)

The intercom connected to the front door buzzed innocuously and Mackenzie answered it with the relief that comes with having a reason to stop performing an odious task.

“Hello.”

“Mack, let me up.”

A voice from the past crackled over the intercom. Mackenzie turned pale. Archer. There was a voice she would have paid good money not to have heard again.

For a moment, she considered not opening the door, but if Archer was here, there had to be a good reason for it. A reason Mackenzie knew from experience it was best to be aware of before the trouble started.

“Come on up,” she said curtly, pressing the buzzer for the door.

It didn't take Archer long to make her way upstairs. There was an elevator, but Mackenzie knew Archer would be taking the stairs. Archer wasn't one to open herself to the possibility of being cornered in a small space.

“I won't be long sweetie,” Mackenzie assured Stephanie on her way past to open the front door.

“No problem,” Stephanie replied lightly, holding her cards close to her chest as Jake did her best to cheat.

A brief, ominous rap on the door announced Archer's arrival.

Mackenzie drew a breath and opened the door to see the same sleek, dark woman she had known years before. Her long black hair fell almost to her waist, her dusky skin glowed with good health. She hadn't changed her style of dress, and her leather studded pants creaked as she stepped into the lounge.

“You're looking well,” Mackenzie said politely.

“Thank you,” Archer said, her voice smooth and slightly baritone, her eyes roving around the room, settling on its occupants. While Stephanie merely returned her gaze with a polite interest, Mackenzie noted with displeasure that Jake's eyes had lit up and were following Archer's every move. It figured the kid would share her taste in women.

“Shall we speak in the office?” Mackenzie suggested, not bothering with introductions. It would be best if Jake were not exposed to a women like Archer, she had enough of a propensity to trouble without being encouraged to hang around with ex-cons. Archer nodded and followed her through the lounge, but not before she winked rakishly at its occupants.

“So, what have you done now?” Mackenzie asked dryly when they were safely ensconced in her office.

Archer ignored the question as she languidly unfolded onto the couch and regarded Mackenzie under lidded eyes. “Who's the cutie out front?”

“No-one to you,” Mackenzie replied, not bothering to find out which woman she was referring to.

Archer laughed. “Still defensive, Mackenzie?”

“I have reason to be,” Mackenzie replied.

She did have reason. Archer was a woman with a history in crime of the organized kind. She'd done time for her affiliation, but not before almost getting Mackenzie disbarred. If it had been up to her Mackenzie would never have seen Archer again. Past favors were past favors though, and Mackenzie owed Archer several.

“Maybe, but I need some legal advice and I figured you'd be the woman to provide it. It's all above board. I've learned my lesson Mackenzie, and I've done my time. So hows about you drop the attitude.”

Archer could always be relied on for straight talking. Going straight or not, she still had the demeanor of a boss, one who knew what she wanted and was determined to get it. Mackenzie sighed inwardly and ran a hand through her hair.

“Sorry Archer, things have been hectic lately. A lot of unexpected surprises.”

“Anything to do with the little blonde?” There was lechery in Archer's tone.

“She's my niece,” Mackenzie gave Archer a dark look as she sat down behind her desk and prepared to take notes.

“Is she,” Archer said thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Mackenzie said with a steady gaze. No words were spoken, but her meaning was clear. 'Leave her alone.'

“That's nice. Family,” Archer said, tracing her long fingers over the leather arm of the couch with a slow sensuality. Mackenzie found her gaze drawn to the manicured long nails, and a shiver ran down her spine.

“Yes.” Mackenzie's tone was growing grim now. Archer seemed to have no real reason for her visit. “So what do you want help with?”

“I've come into some property and I want to make sure it doesn't get taxed out of my hands.”

“A trust then,” Mackenzie suggested. “I will have one of the partners draw up the papers.”

“No.” Archer replied, leaning forward where she sat. “I want you to handle this Mackenzie. Only you.”

Her molten brown eyes trapped Mackenzie in their gaze and Mackenzie felt herself begin to fall. Gripping the desk firmly, as if the gesture might help, she recovered herself.

“It's a minor task, Archer. Anyone can do it. I'm surprised you came to me at all.”

“Still,” Archer smiled a slow smile that had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with reveling in the power of their unspoken agreement. “I want you to do it.”

“Fine. Come see me Monday,” Mackenzie said, standing up from her desk. It was time to end this interview.

“I'll do that.”

Archer rose from the couch in one fluid movement and with casual daring, ran one manicured finger under Mackenzie's chin. “It's nice to see you again Mack, the years have treated you well.” Her voice purred, but it held a threat too, a threat Mackenzie felt keenly.

“Monday.” Mackenzie reiterated, her tone now steely as she opened the door to her office and ushered Archer out.

Archer swayed back through the lounge with a predatory smile. Jake looked up from the card game and met her gaze with a cheerful grin.

“Going so soon?”

Behind Archer, Mackenzie shook her head at Jake. Jake ignored her.

“I'm Jake,” she said, kneeling on the couch and extending her hand towards Archer, who took it with an undisguised look of triumph at Mackenzie.

“Archer,” she said. “Nice to meet you, Jake. That's a cute name for a girl.”

“Thanks. I like it. Keeps people on their toes,” Jake replied, her eyes sparkling up at Archer with open invitation.

“Well, I will see you next week,” Mackenzie said pointedly. Archer took the hint, but not before Jake slipped her a scrap of paper.

“Give me a call sometime.”

Mackenzie took the paper before Archer could pocket it. “No.” Her trepidation at seeing Archer again was fast turning into something else. Anger began to seethe inside her, but Mackenzie kept it controlled. That was the secret, no matter what you felt, you didn't let others know you felt it. If they sensed an edge, a nick in your armor, they would take advantage of it.

Jake frowned. “Hey give her that!”

“It's okay, kiddo, I know where you live,” Archer assured her. Jake grinned happily.

“Archer.” Mackenzie's tone was fast taking on a note of finality.

“I'd best be going,” Archer said smoothly, gliding out of the apartment and leaving it in chaos.

“Why did you take that?” Jake whined.

“Because you are not going to associate with that woman. She is far too old for you,” Mackenzie said.

Jake shrugged. “Age is just a number. She's holding up pretty well for an old bird.”

“No Jake. That's final.” Mackenzie snapped.

Jake slipped into a sullen silence that boded ill for all.

***

“Who was that woman?” Stephanie inquired over dinner, between the entrees and the mains.

Mackenzie took a sip of Merlot and looked at her for a long moment, deciding whether or not to tell her the truth. “She's an ex-client and girlfriend. She did time, I owe her favors,” she said at last.

“Ah, that's why you didn't want Jake involved with her.”

“Correct. Now let's forget about bratty nieces and ex-cons and have a nice dinner, shall we?” Mackenzie said the words with a droll smile, but there was a slight edge to her tone, an edge that Stephanie heeded as she let the subject drop.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Mackenzie complimented her. It was true. She wore a sequined blue dress reminiscent of a 1920's flapper and in it she was pure sex and sophistication. Her short, bobbed hair fitted the style and bright red lipstick and exaggerated eyeliner finished the look in a way that Mackenzie found incredibly alluring.

“Thank you,” Stephanie blushed. “So do you.”

Mackenzie smiled. She was, rarely for her, wearing a dress that evening, a fitted, low cut dress that made the most of her cleavage and her slim frame. The black fabric caressed her midriff, then flowed out to a full skirt around her feet, creating a dramatic, sweeping impression when she walked.

“I suppose working as a lawyer must mean you meet all sorts of people,” Stephanie said, inadvertently skirting the issue Mackenzie was trying not to think about.

“It does,” Mackenzie agreed, fixing Stephanie with a look that bordered between amusement and reprimand.

“My job isn't nearly so glamorous,” Stephanie complained. “It's better than being an ex-con though, right?” she added mischievously.

Mackenzie's eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you trying to push me, little one?”

“No ma'am,” Stephanie slipped into a submissive state at Mackenzie's tone. Her eyes lowered, her cheeks flushed and she shrunk down in her chair a little.

Mackenzie fixed her with a stern look, but her exterior belied her inner pleasure. Stephanie really was delightful, and such a rare find. A cute brat who melted at a mere word. Though she did not feel particularly severe towards Stephanie, she kept up the facade so as to enjoy Stephanie's squirming and small whimpers.

The waiter brought their mains and Stephanie glanced up at Mackenzie under her eyelashes.

“You may begin,” Mackenzie gave her permission, and though she blushed at being treated like a child, Stephanie merely murmured 'thank you Ma'am,' and began to eat.

Watching Stephanie, the woman she owned, Mackenzie felt a warm sense of contentment settle in her belly. It was time to have a little fun. She lowered her voice and leaned in close to Stephanie's ear. “I want you to go to the bathroom and take off your panties.”

“Ma'am?” Stephanie looked confused.

“Then bring them to me. You will not wear panties unless I say so.”

Stephanie blushed and looked around the restaurant, as if anyone might be looking.

“Off you go,” Mackenzie said lightly.

“Yes ma'am,” Stephanie obeyed. Mackenzie watched with pleasure as Stephanie made her way to the bathroom.

Mackenzie found these sorts of games exquisite. Having a woman remove her panties made her feel bare and vulnerable, open. All these emotions and more registered on Stephanie's face as she returned to the table and slipped Mackenzie her panties.

“Good girl,” Mackenzie praised, lightly running her fingers through Stephanie's hair, allowing her nails to trail gently across Stephanie's scalp in a gentle caress. Underneath the table, her other hand slipped down to caress Stephanie's thigh and slowly pull the dress up to bare her.

Stephanie was looking at her with a wide gaze, but already she knew better than to lower her skirt or try to block the progress of Mackenzie's hand.

Cupping and squeezing the tender flesh between Stephanie's legs, Mackenzie leaned over to purr into her ear. “I don't want you playing with this, little one, until I allow you, you understand me?”

Stephanie whimpered but nodded her assent. “Yes Ma'am.”

“Very good. The next pleasure you receive will be at my hands, little one. Keep your thighs parted, I want that pretty pussy on private display.” Mackenzie allowed her fingers to briefly press against the soft opening between Stephanie's thighs, then she moved them away.

Stephanie learned a new kind of helplessness, a helplessness born of obedience, born of desire that will not be sated until Mistress desires it be sated. She sat at the little table in a room full of diners, her legs spread, her bare pussy unprotected by any fabric at all and with only the memory of Mackenzie's touch lingering on her lips.

Mackenzie kept her hand lightly on Stephanie's thigh, her touch possessive, reminding Stephanie that she was there, that she could choose to give pleasure at any time, but for the moment it was clear that she chose not to. With a whimper, Stephanie tried to return her attention to her boeuf bourguignon.