Under The Clerk - Beyond the Law

“I’m headed to lunch now, boss. You want me to bring you something from the deli?” Peggy says, popping her head in my office.

“No thanks. Enjoy your lunch. See you later, Peggy,” I tell her. I hear the click of heels before hearing the little bell sound above the door and I know that she’s gone. Not two minutes later the bell sounds again. Fuck, I am never going to get these warrants filed. Getting up, I walk to my door and pause, all the air leaving my lungs. Then I almost swallow my tongue as my eyes travel down her body. It takes me precious seconds to realize that she’s really fucking here and she’s not alone.

She looks beautiful, standing there, hand on her swollen belly. Her pregnant belly.

It takes everything in me not to jump over the fucking counter to get to her. I walk up to the counter as though I don’t have a care in the world. She’s rooting around in her purse and she hasn’t seen me yet.

“Can I help you?” I ask, my voice gruffer than I mean for it to be. Her head snaps up and her mouth drops open.

“Beck?” she whispers and tears well up in her eyes.

“Fuck it,” I growl, hopping over the counter and pulling her into my arms. Without another word, I kiss her like I’ve been dying to every single minute of every single day since I last saw her. It takes her a minute but then she’s kissing me back. Something hits the floor and her arms go around my neck. Her little moan goes all through me as I learn her taste all over again.

Making up for lost time, I continue to kiss her until she pushes against my chest. She better not belong to some other asshole or I might just lose my mind, kidnap her, and be just like every criminal who walks through these doors.

Speaking of, why is she here? That’s just one of several questions I have for Taryn.

Chapter Seven

Taryn

I take in several gulps of air, as we stare at each other. I can’t believe he’s here. How many other times has he been here when I came to pay my fines? I have only dealt with Cora, but she was kind enough to text me this morning to tell me she was sick and that someone named Kyle would take my payment today. We went to high school together, though she was a few grades ahead of me, she knows all about me. It seems like everyone in town knows about me and my difficult ways.

I’ve thought about him every day since I left his bed in the middle of the night. The man I met in a bar five months ago and I let fuck me into oblivion. I gave him my virginity and he gave me a fake name and a baby.

Beck is actually Kyle Beckner, clerk of courts. The very same man whose name is on the door in the old antique lettering that every courthouse and sheriff’s office in America probably uses.

“Whose baby is that?” he growls at me through clenched teeth. I instinctively place my hands on my belly to shield my little prince, and step back from him.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“Whose child are you carrying in your womb, Taryn? It’s a simple question and I want an answer now,” he demands stepping closer to me. I step back and he steps forward until my back hits the wall.

“Yours, of course, yours. There’s no one else. You’re still the only man I’ve ever been with,” I say, my words spilling out without filter.

“Oh, God, Taryn. I must be dreaming again, but I don’t want to wake up,” he replies, his hand moving to my cheek. I use my free hand to pinch the underside of his arm. “Ow,” he says playfully.

“What the hell was that for?”

“You’re not dreaming,” I say shrugging. He shakes his head at me before leaning his head back and laughing.

“I’ve looked for you everywhere,” he says leaning down to kiss me again.

“I found you,” I tell him, letting him kiss me again.

“Come into my office,” he demands, lifting me into his arms before I can answer. Instead of climbing over the counter again, he walks through the waist-high swinging doors that connect the two counters together and keeps people from behind them.

Inside his office, he sets me down on the edge of his desk before shutting and locking the door. The lock is audible and my legs fall open. My skirt is short this way.

“I don’t want you to leave me again. Is that what’s going to happen when I make you come?” he asks, his hair falling over one eye. I move to sweep it behind his ear. It’s so much longer than the last time I saw him.