Object Me: A Bad Boy Lawyer Romance

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Object Me: A Bad Boy Lawyer Romance Page 13

by Roxy Sinclaire


  “Wait.” I yelled.

  It was a private beach, and a nearly private island. There was no one around for miles, but I still needed to be there to cover her body. No accidental sneak peeks were allowed for random visitors.

  She giggled at me.

  Her delicate lace panties had already been discarded in the sand by the time I had stripped down to my boxers and reached her luscious body.

  “I thought you’d never catch me.” she smiled as she trailed a finger across my chest.

  “I’ll always catch you.” I explained against her lobe. “Even if I never plan on letting you go.”

  I pull her closer against me and our bodies connected in the water.

  Being in the water with Yvette was the best way to start a vacation. From the very start of our time together she had known how to make me feel good. After the welcome in the water, we christened the beach, the balcony and finally the bedroom.

  Yvette hummed a tone of satisfaction.

  “This is paradise.” she sighed.

  “You like this island that much?” I asked. “I’ll buy it for you and we can visit on the weekends.”

  She chuckled a light laugh.

  “No, Dylan. You were able to settle a big windfall for the firm and secure even more clients after the damage your father had done, but I wouldn’t want you to spend all of your money on little ole me.”

  Her tone was joking, but it made my anger tick that she believed that her presence held such little significance in my life.

  I touched her face.

  “I would do anything for you, because you mean everything to me.” I told her as our eyes locked.

  Yvette seemed to search for the truth. I meant every syllable, word, and sentence. She was my all.

  I was free, no longer anchored to the weighty expectations and misgivings of Peter Hanson. I no longer had to walk in his shadow but in the beckoning sunshine that Yvette provided. I would have never been able to see the light had it not been for Yvette.

  “I know.” she replied sweetly before kissing my lips.

  I pushed my lips against hers and inserted my tongue between her pillowy ones.

  Yvette’s ringing phone interrupted what I hoped would have turned into more.

  “Let it go to voicemail.” I whined and nipped at her top lip.

  “It may be important.” she teased and pulled away from me to answer her cell phone. “I’ll make up for it. I promise.”

  Yvette batted her eyes.

  “I’ll hold you to that.” I responded and tugged her shirt up. If I couldn’t have her lips, then her nipples would have to do.

  “Hello.” she said to the person on the phone with a wavy voice.

  I lapped my tongue in wide circles around her perfectly sized areola.

  “Hi Sherry!” Yvette said too loudly as she shook when I took her budded nipple between my teeth. “Stop.” she whispered to me away from the phone.

  “Never.” I whispered back cupping her breast.

  Yvette arched her back in response but held onto the phone.

  “That’s such good news.” Yvette shouted into the phone and leaped out of the bed. “Oh my God. A baby! That’s amazing.”

  This caught my attention. Yvette was practically gleaming from the news that Sherry, Sophia’s half-sister and widow of Brandon Hunter, was having her first child with her new husband.

  Yvette jumped and squealed around the room as if it were her who was having a baby. As though she were having my baby, because there was no scenario that would allow another man to ever enter her. Yvette was only for me and for me alone.

  I knew that she must have felt the intensity of my gaze as I imagined Yvette rounded at the hips with her belly growing a product of our love.

  “Thanks for sharing the news with me, Sherry. I’m so excited for you.” Yvette spoke into the phone but watched me.

  I was glad that we were able to get more than the original estimated compensation for Sherry after it was discovered that Menory Medical had not only defrauded their patients but colluded with a government official to commit a conspiracy. The law firm had prospered from the settlement too. I had already been well off, but now even if I never worked another case again I could live the life of luxury and still be able to fund the same lifestyle for another three generations. Clients popped up out of the wood work in the aftermath of Menory. This caused us to expand the firm to two other states.

  “Ok. We’ll keep in touch.” Yvette ended the call and flopped onto the bed next to me.

  “That took way too long.” I complained with a smile.

  She looked up into my eyes.

  “I’m all yours now.” she cooed.

  A knock at the door interrupted the tender moment.

  “I got it.” I resigned with a huff.

  I jogged to the front door and opened it for the uniformed man with a folded table and bag of supplies in hand.

  “You can set up over there.” I told him quietly.

  Surveying the room, my stomach knotted. I couldn’t be sure how Yvette would feel. I wasn’t sure if I had done too much or not enough. I had done my research, even gathered a panel of ladies to gather their opinions about the best way to approach the situation. I had known how to prepare for a case, a fight of words, a negotiation, but not how to surrender to love, to Yvette and her choice.

  I took a whiff of the fresh food that I’d had delivered while Yvette was in the shower and the hundreds of Orange Blossom flowers that were perched in every part of the room.

  “Everything is ready sir.” The masseuse said as he stood behind the table.

  “Thank you.” I nodded.

  The room nearly resembled a rainforest with all of the foliage.

  “Who’s at the door?” I heard Yvette shout from the bedroom.

  “Um. A salesman.” I stuttered.

  “What?” her voice was growing nearer.

  I tried to block her entrance to the living room. It wasn’t ready. It had to be perfect for her. It was the only acceptable way for my Yvette.

  “Go back to the bed—” I started but stopped as Yvette reached the room and broke through the weak, half body barricade I was able to put up.

  “What’s going on?” she asked suspiciously. “You’ve been acting—” The rest of the sentence died in her throat somewhere as she surveyed the room. A hand covered her gaped mouth.

  “I wanted to surprise you.” I told her, taking her hand into mine.

  “There are Orange Blossoms everywhere.” she gasped. “My favorite flower.”

  Yvette walked over to one of the plants and glided a finger along a leaf.

  “My aunt always had at least one of these in the house. She said that they brought good luck.” Yvette looked wistfully at the plant.

  I knew that her aunt had meant a lot to her.

  “You bring luck to me.” I told her honestly.

  “She would be proud of me.” Yvette stroked the petal lovingly. “I’d felt so alone without her. She was the only one in the world that cared about me. Well, until you.”

  Yvette turned suddenly to face me.

  I had moved from a standing position to kneeling.

  “Dylan. Oh my God.” Yvette gasped through gulps of breath with her eyes widened in surprise.

  She lowered her gaze to me perched on one knee.

  I took in a deep breath. I didn’t know how it would end, but I that the moment was then.

  “Why are you on one knee?” Yvette asked through a quavering voice. “I love you.” I admitted.

  A tear sprung from her eye and I fought the urge to wipe it.

  “You’ve never said that before.”

  I hadn’t realized that it was my first verbal admission. I felt like the word wasn’t strong enough to describe what we felt.

  “And there will be never be a day that you don’t hear it if you say that you will share your life with me.” I gushed nearly all in one breath. “Marry me.”

  I pulled the ring f
rom my pocket swiftly and popped open the lush black box. The inside was a silk orange material the same color as her favorite flower. The ring itself was a multi-carat princess cut on a platinum band.

  “Will you be my wife?” I asked, plucking the ring from the box.

  There seemed to be a year between each second. There seemed to be a decade before she moved her hand from her chest and slid it out in front of me.

  “Yes.” she nearly whispered. “Yes. Yes. I will be your wife.” Her voice grew stronger with each word.

  I slid the ring onto her finger and took her into my arms.

  She would be mine forever.

  Thank You

  Roxy Sinclaire writes steamy, suspenseful romantic stories as the main genre, and this includes a variety of different topics. Some of these include dark romances, action packed romances, mafia romances, and many more. She currently works in customer relations in New York City, but is trying to fulfill her passion in writing and eventually have her dream job become a reality

  Please see her Author Central Account on Amazon for a full list of her titles.

  Sign up for her mailing list and find out about her latest releases, giveaways, and more. Plus, get a FREE book! Click here!

  For more information, be sure to check out the links below!

  @RoxySinclaire

  RoxySinclaireAuthor

  roxysinclaire.com

  [email protected]

  Also by Roxy Sinclaire

  Pass To Win Series:

  Touchdown: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Book 1)

  Line of Scrimmage: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Book 2)

  Dirty Fighter: A Bad Boy MMA Romance

  Fast and Loaded: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

  Bad Boys To The Core: 10 Book Box Set

  Tempting Me: A Bad Boy Romance

  The Devil’s Dream: A Dark Romance

  Trapped In His World: A Dark Romance

  Deceived By The Hitman: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance

  Touchdown

  A Bad Boy Sports Romance

  Alexa

  It seems crazy to think that the one thing that people know me for will be nothing but a memory after tonight. In the years before high school, I was only known as “The Rich Girl” and I hated it. Then, I became “The Cheerleader.”

  I mean, it isn’t great to be known for just one part of my life, but at least people recognized me for something I was good at. Princeton became my home away from home, a place where I could be myself without my parents meddling in my business.

  It was actually better than home, because when my classmates hear the name Alexa Hall, most don’t make the connection to my multimillion dollar family.

  Growing up, I always wanted to play sports. I’m a fierce competitor, but my mother thought that girls’ sports were for “the rough kids”. That’s just another way of saying “poor, ugly people”.

  I remember one time in elementary school, I was playing soccer with some kids at recess. I collided with a boy two years older than me and I got a couple teeth knocked out. They were just baby teeth, so it really wasn’t a big deal. My mom absolutely berated me when I got home, though. When she stopped yelling at me for ruining my face, she just cried and wouldn’t look at me for days.

  She wouldn’t let me participate in the pageant I was supposed to be in that weekend and told the school that I was not allowed to take part in such dangerous games. I was relieved that I didn’t have to go to the pageant, but having to sit on the sidelines when my friends were having fun at recess was torture.

  So it was a bit of a surprise when my mom allowed me to try out for the cheerleading squad when I started high school. The cheer coach said that I was the first freshman to make the varsity squad in over a decade.

  I went from sitting on the sideline to cheering on the sideline, actually being able to be part of something. I loved cheering, but I really liked having an excuse to be able to go to my school’s sporting events and be so close to the action.

  I loved the feeling of sprinting down the sideline to pull off a perfect front handspring. I got a rush every time I was tossed in the air. I thrived when all eyes were on me while dancing along to the marching band’s music during time outs. There’s nothing better than cheering for the football team on a crisp autumn night.

  My throat tightened when I remembered that this was the last night I would spend with the springy turf of the field underneath my feet. I always secretly enjoyed watching football, but college football is a whole other spectacle. I was ecstatic when I learned that I made the Princeton squad.

  No matter what was going on in my life, I always had Saturdays to look forward to. I loved waking up early, spending the morning getting ready with my friends on the squad, and supporting the football team. I liked spending time with the football players, too.

  They were funny and cute and threw awesome parties. Being in with the football players was kind of like being a celebrity, at least on campus. I got to know some of them pretty well - I wish I would have gotten to know some of them better.

  “Alexa, ten seconds until halftime. Let’s go!” Sasha hissed at me, snapping me from my daydream.

  During halftime, the cheerleaders go to their own special locker room in the stadium while the band performs the halftime show. It’s the only part of the day when we’re out of the spotlight.

  “Can you believe it’s almost over? I mean, we still have the basketball season, but I can’t imagine not being here next season,” Sasha said as she swiped some bright red lipstick across my lips.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Gia sniffled. “I can’t stop thinking about how sad Sam is going to be tonight. Especially if they lose this one.

  “Oh, they might come back and win it. You never know,” I replied, trying to be optimistic. But really, I had a sneaking suspicion they weren’t going to win this one. The second half of the season had been a downward spiral.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” she said, dabbing at the corners of her eyes as if her positive attitude alone could help her boyfriend’s losing team.

  “And imagine the party tonight if they do win,” Sasha said. “I imagine that a certain football player will want to thank you for all of your support over the past four years.”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Sasha,” I mock scolded my best friend. “Who said I was even planning on partying tonight? Maybe I’ll just go home and finish up some homework.”

  “You nerd,” Gia joked. “If I didn’t know better, I wouldn’t think you were the head cheerleader.”

  I smiled. I worked really hard to get good grades and still have time to work on new cheer routines. I didn’t want the other girls to think it was okay to go through college being nothing more than pretty, rich, and popular.

  “Let’s go, ladies,” the cheer coach yelled down the hallway. “Five minutes until the second half starts.”

  I grabbed my pom poms and walked back into the stadium. The crowd was quiet. It’s not easy watching your team miss easy tackles or drop passes. It was even harder to cheer when the crowd just wants to go home and drink away the pain of another loss. It was time to get to work.

  “Let’s go Tigers, let’s go!” I shouted, leading my squad. I did the pass I worked on all season to perfection—a round off, two back handsprings and a back flip. I stuck the landing, smiled, and waved to the crowd. This got the student section on their feet. It felt good to get attention for skills that I worked so hard to hone.

  The players ran back out onto the field, our cue to start dancing. I made the mistake of looking behind me during our old familiar routine. I quickly made, and then broke, eye contact with one of the players. Martin flashed a quick smile at me and for a split second, I lost my place in the routine. I could hear Sasha snickering at me through her wide cheerleader smile.

  “What happened there, Alexa?” Sasha laughed during the kickoff.

  “Sorry, I guess I got distracted,” I blushed.

  “My guess is that
you caught a glimpse of Martin and your brain shut down,” she casually replied.

  “Ha, you think you’re so clever,” I fake laughed. My brain spun as I tried to change the subject.

  “Hey, Gia. Your boyfriend looks like he’s going to murder someone,” I said.

  “Yeah,” she replied. “I hope his opponents find him scary, because I think it’s adorable.”

  “Ugh, just get married already,” Sasha groaned. “You guys are just too cute for me.”

  “TOUCHDOWN!” the announcer roared. “Number 81, Donny Jackson!”

  The cheerleaders jumped up and down, our cheers drowned out by the crowd. Donny ran to the sideline and winked at me when he took off his helmet. I pretended not to see.

  After the extra point kick, we began the routine to the school song. What a rush! Sometimes, I had to fake my cheer smile, but this one was as real as it gets.

  There was only five minutes left in the game. The team was down by eight points now. A win would be a great way to end my cheerleading career. I don’t think I’ve ever cheered so loudly in my life. The crowd was on their feet.

  “Defense, defense,” I shouted, and the whole stadium followed. This was the loudest I’ve ever heard the crowd in the last four years. The noise worked. The other team couldn’t hear the play call and in their confusion, our players forced a fumble and ran it back to the fifty-yard line.

  Three minutes to go.

  The coach called a timeout, which was our cue to cheer. The music was booming and the energy from the crowd was electric. It was time for some stunts. I carefully placed my foot in the hands of two strong cheerleaders and they launched me into the sky.

  I was flying and I didn’t want to come down because once I did, it was back to reality. I nailed my toe touch and landed in the soft cradle of my teammate’s arms. They had been like family to me, and I hated the thought of leaving the team and being replaced.

  One minute left. The team had managed a few sloppy first downs to make it to the thirty-yard line. Then, a penalty pushed them back ten yards. There was only enough time for one more drive.

 

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