𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝟐𝟎

Walking out of the courtroom, the coolness of victory settled in my bones. I always loved winning, but this case felt different. As the heavy wooden doors swung shut behind me, I couldn't help but let my thoughts drift back to her. Sadira Kingston-Ms. Tough Act herself. She had been giving me hell from the moment she stepped into my world, but there was something about that attitude of hers that made me want more.

She sat there in court, trying so hard to keep her cool, but I saw the cracks. I saw the way she rubbed her hands on her pants, how her posture was just a little too stiff, and how she looked at the jury with those sharp, observant eyes. She was nervous. And while I usually don't care about my clients' nerves, with her, it was different. I wanted her to be calm, collected, and I wanted to be the reason she got there.

When I brushed my knee against hers in court, I could feel the jolt of tension that ran through her. She acted tough, but her body gave her away. Every time I whispered for her to relax, I felt that power shift. It wasn't about control, though-I wasn't interested in taming her.

No, I liked the way she bristled at me, how she stood tall and tried to push me away with that bratty attitude of hers. Hell, it was cute.

I watched her as she left the courtroom. She walked with purpose, that navy-blue pantsuit clinging to her in all the right places. The bun she had her hot pink hair pulled into sat perfectly at the top of her head, the curls spilling just enough to frame her face. Even without makeup, she looked flawless-her skin practically glowing under the fluorescent lights. That bare face, just a little shea butter and cocoa butter on her lips... it was simple, but so damn sexy.

I found myself smirking as I watched her, leaning back against the wall for just a moment longer. I loved that she thought she could dismiss me, like I didn't get under her skin the way she got under mine. Her little tough act? It wasn't fooling anyone. Least of all me.

As I pushed off the wall and made my way down the steps of the courthouse, I saw her standing by her Range Rover. She was getting ready to leave, and I knew I should let her go-should just let the moment pass. But something about her... I couldn't resist.

"Ms. Kingston," I called out as I approached her car, making sure to keep my tone light, teasing. She glanced up at me, and even from a distance, I could see the roll of her eyes. That same bratty attitude. It only made me want to get closer.

She was already in the driver's seat, her seatbelt fastened, but she didn't pull away just yet. I leaned against the doorframe, looking down at her through the open window.

"You handled that well," I said, my voice smooth and low. "Like a pro."

"Yup. Thanks," she replied, her tone clipped. She wasn't in the mood for games, but that didn't stop me from playing.

I chuckled, watching her as she gripped the steering wheel, her fingers tapping against the leather. She was tired, I could tell. The courtroom had drained her, but there was something else, too. The way she looked at me, a mixture of annoyance and something more. It made me want to push her just a little further, see how far I could take it.

"It's over, Davis. What do you possibly want from me now?" she asked, turning to look at me with those piercing eyes.

She didn't flinch. Not one bit. God, I loved that about her. No matter how much I pushed, she always pushed back.

I leaned down, getting just a little closer, enough to catch the faintest hint of her perfume-something soft, almost sweet, like vanilla and jasmine. It mixed with the scent of her skin, warm from the sun and still glowing even in the fading light of the day.

"I love that bratty attitude of yours," I said, my smirk widening as I watched her reaction. She shifted in her seat, clearly not amused, but there was something else there too. She liked the attention, even if she'd never admit it.

"But nothing," I continued, pushing off the doorframe and taking a step back. "Have a nice day."

She gave me a curt nod before rolling up the window and pulling off. I watched as the white Range Rover disappeared down the street, the rumble of the engine fading into the distance. I should've let it go, let her go. But as I stood there, hands in my pockets, I realized that Sadira Kingston had gotten under my skin in a way I didn't expect.

I found myself thinking about her later that night, my mind wandering back to the courtroom. The way she carried herself, trying to put on that tough exterior when I knew damn well that inside, she was nervous. It wasn't just her attitude that stuck with me, though.

It was everything. The way she spoke, her voice always just a little sharp, like she was ready to cut someone down if they crossed her. The way she always smelled good, like she'd stepped out of some bakery, sweet and warm, but with an edge.

And then there was the way she looked-God, the way she looked. That pink hair shouldn't work on her, but it did. It worked in a way that made her stand out, made her look powerful and confident, even when she didn't feel that way.

Her skin always had this glow, like she didn't need anything extra to stand out. She was stunning without even trying, and it was almost impossible to look away when she walked into a room.

But what really got me? That attitude. The way she snapped back at me, the way she didn't let me push her around. I liked it. Hell, I loved it. Most people tried to impress me, tried to win me over with smiles and charm. But not Sadira. She gave me nothing but attitude, and it only made her more interesting.

I leaned back in my chair, swirling the glass of whiskey in my hand as I thought about her. The way she stood in court today, her shoulders back, chin high, even though I knew she was feeling the pressure.

She was nervous, but she wasn't going to let anyone see it. That took guts, and it only made her more impressive.

She didn't break, not even when the lawyer tried to rattle her with questions about Tariq. She kept her cool, answered clearly, and let me do my job. And when it was all said and done, when the footage showed that Tariq was innocent, I saw the relief wash over her face. She didn't celebrate or gloat. She just looked tired, like she'd been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders for too long.

I wondered what it was like for her, running that bakery all on her own, dealing with people like me on a daily basis. She had to be tough. She had to keep that edge, because if she didn't, people would walk all over her. I admired that. But there was more to Sadira Kingston than just a tough exterior. I could see it in her eyes, the way they softened for just a moment when she thought no one was looking. She had a heart, even if she tried to hide it.

And damn, I wanted to know more about it.

As I sat there, I couldn't help but wonder what it would take to break through that wall she'd built around herself. To see the real Sadira, the one who didn't always have to be tough, who didn't have to put up with people like me getting in her way. I wanted to see what was underneath all that attitude, all that fire.

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I wasn't done with her. Not by a long shot.

This case might have been over, but Sadira Kingston? She was still on my mind. And something told me that our paths were going to cross again, whether she liked it or not.