HotShot Lawyer: STANDALONE BAD BOY ROMANCE (Bad Boys In Suits Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Intro

  Prologue

  Chapter 1.

  Chapter 2.

  Chapter 3.

  Chapter 4.

  Chapter 5.

  Chapter 6.

  Chapter 7.

  Chapter 8.

  Chapter 9.

  Chapter 10.

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12.

  Chapter 13.

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16.

  Chapter 17.

  Chapter 18.

  Chapter 19.

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24.

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26.

  Chapter 27.

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29.

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34.

  Epilogue

  Free Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

  About Helen Vera

  HOT-SHOT LAWYER

  Bad Boy DARK Romance

  Helen Vera

  CONTENTS

  Intro

  Prologue

  Chapter 1.

  Chapter 2.

  Chapter 3.

  Chapter 4.

  Chapter 5.

  Chapter 6.

  Chapter 7.

  Chapter 8.

  Chapter 9.

  Chapter 10.

  Chapter 11.

  Chapter 12.

  Chapter 13.

  Chapter 14.

  Chapter 15.

  Chapter 16.

  Chapter 17.

  Chapter 18.

  Chapter 19.

  Chapter 20.

  Chapter 21.

  Chapter 22.

  Chapter 23.

  Chapter 24.

  Chapter 25.

  Chapter 26.

  Chapter 27.

  Chapter 28.

  Chapter 29.

  Chapter 30.

  Chapter 31.

  Chapter 32.

  Chapter 33.

  Chapter 34.

  Epilogue

  Free Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

  About Helen Vera

  Copyright © 2017 by Helen Vera

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is for mature readers. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some.

  All sexual activity in this work is consensual and all sexually active characters are 18 years of age or older.

  INTRO

  I may be a Knight, but there’s nothing chivalrous about me. That’s a fucking guarantee.

  Here are the facts.

  I’m hot-headed and foul-mouthed. A wildly successful lawyer. But until recently, I was all talk.

  One night my control snaps. It’s a blur of flesh, blood – and the bite of cold handcuffs around my wrists.

  I’m dragged up in front of a judge and jury –the only difference this time is that it’s my ass on the line, and my ass that’s about to be locked up.

  So when the judge offers me a choice—forced psychiatrist or prison—I know exactly what I’m choosing.

  And I don’t fucking intend to be an easy patient.

  Enter Dr. Vivian Caldwell, my probation psychiatrist. She’s so f*cking irresistible and that clipboard in her hands stirs me up in more ways than one. She’s a widow by my hand –But that she doesn’t need to know about.

  The mere thought of bending her to my will—and over her desk—is slowly burning me alive.

  And as much as she tries to be professional, my sweet Vivian can’t deny the truth – she’s tempted to submit to her desires. And to me. Jax Knight

  Be the judge and jury for a bad boy lusting after a woman who isn’t ‘good girl’ enough to walk away…

  PROLOGUE

  JAX

  It’s well after midnight when I knock on her door. I ‘m her dirty little secret after all. Dirty enough to fuck her under the cover of darkness. I hear her soft footsteps by the door and my heart does that fucking weird flutter when she opens it.

  I watch her dark chocolate eyes dart around the empty street. Crickets are the only witness to our nocturnal encounters, their loud chirping fills the silence between us. She motions for me to come in, holding a finger to her luscious lips. It feels like deja vu all over again as I make my way into the foyer, feeling my anger and frustration rising to the surface. Anger at how she sneaks me in like a fucking thief, afraid of what people would say if they catch her with the notorious bad boy, Jax Knight.

  Nobody believes a bad boy when he says he wants to change for the better, but hell, I do. I’d fucking do anything for her and her only. My little vixen standing in front of me has me wrapped around her dainty little finger.

  Vivian turns around in her emerald satin robe and I picture taking her from behind in the middle of her living room with the curtains open. My dick hardens at that tempting thought as I watch her lock the door. “You’re late.” She whispers.

  I close the distance between us and grab her by the waist. She’s warm and soft against my hard frame. “Impatient, are we?”

  She clears her throat and melts into my chest. Her perky tits are fucking beautiful from this angle. “Leave your cocky self at the door and come to the bedroom.”

  My hands on her waist prevent her from walking away. “What did you just say?”

  She swallows and her cheeks turn pink. I smirk and pick her up like she weighs nothing. “I’m going to fuck the hell out of you tonight.”

  “Be my guest.”

  Her soft skin trembles beneath my fingertips as I carry her all the way to the bedroom. Her robe falls to the floor in seconds, followed by her ripped underwear. I’m too consumed by my need for her that I quickly unzip my jeans and order her to turn around. She obeys me, eager for the hard fuck she’s about to receive. That’s all I am to her. A good, hard fuck. She moans when I enter her, wet and desperate. I pound into her over and over, sliding in and out of her wet pussy. Her moans turn into whimpers. She wants to be quiet, but one more punishing thrust and she’s screaming into the mattress.

  I’m done being her dirty secret and I’m fucking tired of sneaking around like this.

  I want to show her off. I want them to know she belongs to me.

  I ‘m going to claim her. I’m going to make her Mine.

  1

  JAX

  Fuck.

  I must’ve had too much to drink last night because the pounding in my head is getting louder by the second. I slowly sit up, rubbing my aching head. My breath stinks of vodka and I’m thirsty as hell.

  “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

  Officer Mike bangs his fist against the iron bars just to piss me off. I cover my ears and shoot him a murderous glare. “If you fucker don’t stop this now...”

  He unlocks the door to my jail cell and tells me to stand up. I give him the finger and take my sweet time getting up. “You caused some serious damage last night.” He remarks d
isapprovingly.

  “Oh, I always do.”

  He shakes his head and cuffs me. “Judge Adams wants to see you.”

  “Really? I missed that old bastard.”

  Everyone at the 5th precinct in Soho knows my name, even the saucy blonde at the front desk. Damn, she was one hot fuck. I send a wink her way as Mike escorts me to his police car. It’s unusually warm for November, but still, people choose to wear jackets and raincoats.

  Traffic is a bitch, so it takes us around twenty minutes to get to criminal court, which is ironic considering my profession. Being a successful lawyer has its many perks, like sweet talking my way out of trouble. Now if only I can remember what the fuck I did last night.

  See, being a notorious bad boy does not deter clients from hiring me, especially those who enjoy being the center of attention, like Whitney Black. She hired me to bleed her ex-husband dry, and that’s exactly what I did. She walked off a million dollars richer thanks to me.

  Life is pretty great. Yeah, I have a fiery temper and all, but nothing comes without a price. Besides, no one is perfect. We all have our fucking flaws.

  Mike babbles about his newborn daughter on the way to court like I’m supposed to give a fuck. I pretend to listen while gazing out the window. New York looks dull and gloomy in winter, and I love it. This concrete jungle I call home is the only thing worth loving.

  By the time we reach court, the paparazzi are already there, ready with their cameras. I always put a good show for these guys, and today is no different. Mike opens the door and I smirk confidently and get out of the police car. They all want a piece of me because I’m good for business. Tabloids worship me, and newspapers call me the James Dean of law.

  I follow Mike up the marble steps and try to avoid my throbbing headache. The flashing cameras are annoying as hell, but I manage to smile through it all. Kinky women love it when I’m photographed in cuffs. I can already feel my phone vibrating in my back-pocket with booty call offers no doubt.

  Judge Adams is not amused when I enter his courtroom. His expression is sourer than a bag of lemons. He leans back in his chair when I step forward to hear his ruling. He looks obviously intimidated by my six foot three frame.

  One of the guards unlocks my cuffs and rolls his eyes when I greet him by name.

  “Jax, when are you going to behave yourself, young man?” Judge Adams asks while putting on his reading glasses. He scans the file on his desk before shaking his head.

  “When pigs fly, your Honor.”

  His face turns red as a ripe tomato in response. God, I fucking love riling him up. “Do you think hurting people is a joke? Do you even have any idea about what you did last night?”

  “Frankly, no. Please do enlighten me.”

  If looks could kill, I’d be already dead on the spot. “Well, according to this police report right here, you were arrested for vandalizing a bar on Park Avenue, causing one man to get stitches and punching the bartender in the face.”

  Sadly, I remember none of the above.

  “I’m sure they both deserved it. So how much is my bail this time, because I really need to be at the gym in ten minutes.” I could feel my inner slumbering dragon waking up. Judge Adams sighs and slams the file on his desk.

  “This complete disregard for others is not going to win you any favors, Knight.”

  “Look, your Honor...”

  Judge Adams cuts me off. “No. Spare me your usual excuses. I’ve let you off the hook many times before, but this time really takes the cake. Your temper is causing more than just property damage. You are endangering the life of others, and it needs to stop.”

  I clench my fists and try to take a deep, calming breath. “So what do you suggest I do? Huh?”

  The judge takes off his glasses and rubs his blue wrinkly eyes. “I am assigning you to a probation psychiatrist for anger management therapy.” He declares.

  “No fucking way your honor.” I shake my head vehemently.

  “Mind your language, Knight! My decision is final. You need to control this reckless anger of yours before you get somebody killed. Trust me, it’s for your own benefit.”

  “Yeah. Right.” I snort. “You just want to keep me on a leash like an obedient dog.” My nostrils flare and the vein on my forehead throbs angrily. I’m royally pissed off and he can easily see it.

  “See? This is exactly why you need those therapy sessions.” He remarks. “Therefore, I am sentencing you to 120 hours of anger management therapy starting Wednesday.”

  I glance around the room for something to punch. This is completely and utterly unfair.

  “You know, Jax. Your late father would have been incredibly disappointed in how you turned out. Charles Knight was the epitome of calm.” Judge Adams rubs salt into this motherfucking wound by mentioning my father.

  I dig my short nails into my palms and bite hard on my lower lip.

  Keep calm, Jax. There is no turning back from murdering a judge, you know.

  “Fine. I’ll get the fucking therapy.”

  Judge Adams flinches at my harsh tone. I really do scare the old fucker. “If you fail to attend any of these sessions, jail and disbarment will be waiting for you in my court. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  2

  VIVIAN

  New York is beautiful this time of year.

  Ever since I was a little girl, I would eagerly wait for winter to ice skate and build crooked snowmen in Central Park. My childhood was innocent and full of sweet memories.

  I never expected to become a widow at 29. When I first got married, everyone would say how lucky I was to have found my soul mate. A rich, successful lawyer from the Upper East Side with so much charisma and ambition. Andrew really knew how to light up a room. He was also a lying, cheating son of a bitch.

  I swallow the lump in my throat as his black coffin slowly descends into his grave. My heart is not grieving and my eyes refuse to shed a tear for him. Andrew was a terrible husband and treated our baby Lucy like she was some distant relative, unworthy of his affection.

  We were on our way to a bitter and ugly divorce when he died. He threatened to take Lucy away from me using his connections to get full custody. His threats fueled my hatred for him even more. I hug my leather purse to my chest and try to ignore the way everyone is staring at me.

  “My dear Vivian, I’m so terribly sorry for your loss.” Lisa Rimmelli, the heiress to her family fortune, pulls me into a quick hug. Her fur coat tickles my nose when she pulls back to give me a fake, sympathetic smile.

  “Thank you, Lisa.”

  Once Andrew is buried, the flood of condolences begins. I lose track of the hands I shake and the fake smiles I receive.

  “You know, it’s more than okay to cry, sweetie. We are all here for you.” Janet Lowl tells me, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her. She of all people despises me because I married Andrew, her first love. I keep my polite mask intact and thank her for her support.

  Sue, my best friend, and confidant moves to stand beside me. Her tall, willowy frame provides me with a dose of genuine comfort. I say goodbye to the final group of people before allowing myself to relax. “Thank fuck this is all over,” Sue whispers from beside me. “Because I am sick and tired of spending time with hypocrites. They all know Andrew was unfaithful to you, yet they still describe him as a freaking saint.” She huffs. “I’m personally glad that Lucy is too young to remember him.”

  “Oh God. Lucy.”

  I glance around frantically once I realize that she’s no longer sitting under the nearby maple tree. Panic takes a hold of me as I call out her name. The remaining Upper East Side crowd turns to look at the frantic widow on their way to their cars. They must think that I’m losing my mind. And maybe I am.

  “Lucy!”

  Sue and I find her right next to the marble statue of an angel, blissfully watching a chirping red cardinal. Tears cloud my eyes as I rush to her side and pull her into my arms.

&nbs
p; Sue hugs her from the other side. Her fingers are warm compared to my cold hands. “You, little lady, should wear a bell so we can hear you whenever you wander off.” She says.

  Lucy laughs, her dark blond ringlets swaying in their Barbie pink ribbons. I kiss her cherub cheeks and Sue grabs one hand while I grab the other. “How about a cup of hot cocoa from City Bakery? With marshmallows on top.” She offers.

  Lucy jumps up and down excitedly at the mention of marshmallows. My little baby is only 16 months, but knows so much already.

  I hold my head up high as we walk past the line of cars leaving the parking lot. Almost everyone on the Upper East Side loves to gossip, especially about the young widow and her cheating dead husband. The mystery surrounding Andrew’s death has everybody talking.

  “Vivian.”

  Sue’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Yes?”

  “Give your mind a break.” She says knowingly.

  Sue and I met during our freshman year at NYU, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. My shy, wallflower personality complemented her bubbly, outgoing personality. She hated Andrew’s guts and I should have listened to her when she told me he was an immature frat boy.