His Prize Attorney - A Billionaire BWWM Alpha Male BBW Romance (Hutton Brothers Book 1)

by Kylie Hudson

  My brother’s words are like a knife into my heart and my eyes suddenly turn dark with rage. “One day I will get the fucker who killed her,” I snarl. “And it’s no big deal that she looks like Toya. I want Soraya and I am going to get her one way or another.”

  My brothers both look at me and smile. “Just don’t go after that lawyer for the wrong reason, bro,” Noah says, eyes brimming with emotions. “I hear she is one tough cookie and a hard nut to crack. Most of the lawyers and businessmen in the city have been trying for years to date her, but she has shot them all down. People are starting to wonder if she is a lesbian.”

  An angry scowl darkens my face. “She ain’t no damn lesbian,” my voice thunders around the room, just as the heavens open and raindrops streak against the windows, as if summing up my mood. “She was creaming her panties today when I stood beside her. That girl wants dick and I am going to be the one who gives it to her.”

  Our discussion is disrupted by the shrill ringing of my private cell phone. Glancing at the screen. I see a number not stored in my contacts and one I don’t recognize. “Well, are you going to answer it?” Tanner raises his voice. They both know I hate answering anonymous calls, but the fact that it’s my private number which very few people have access to, forces me to press the answer button.

  “Hello, is this Mr. Hutton?” A sultry voice chimes on the other end of the line. It’s one I definitely have never heard before since I have a solid memory, and I would have remembered this one.

  “Yes, it is,” I reply coolly.

  “This is Scarlett, ADA Griffin’s best friend.”

  My breath hitches and my heart picks up speed. “Hi, Scarlett, how may I help you?”

  “I am having Soraya over for drinks and a bite to eat at my apartment and I would like you to join us. I’ll text you the address, so see you in one hour.” And just like that she hangs up the phone.

  Tanner notices the puzzled expression on my face. “Who was that, bro? You look as if they have just heard from a ghost.”

  I ghost it could well have been. “You won’t fucking believe it, but that was a friend’s of ADA Griffin. They are having drinks and dinner at her apartment and they are inviting me over in one hour.”

  By the time Tanner and Noah finally find their voices, and are ready to comment, I have already bolted for my bedroom on the second floor to enact a quick change of clothes.

  My mind’s in a whirl.

  What has Soraya and her friend got up their sleeves? And why would they be inviting me? Seems I made quite an impression today.

  It could be a trap of some sort and I could be walking into the lion’s den.

  But cut the fuck, I’m Romeo Hutton, am I not.

  It will take more than a pair of pussies to handle me.

  ***

  Soraya’s friend lives at a rather trendy apartment complex in the city, so she doesn’t appear to be too shabby when it comes on to cash. I drive myself to keep our meeting as private as possible, and had received instructions to park in a private parking area and enter through a side elevator - I guess one built for clandestine rendezvous like the one I am on right now.

  When I knock on the apartment door on the twentieth floor, a rather thick, beautiful young African- American woman answers, sporting a rather coy smile on her face. She looks mid to late twenties and is dressed in a white shorts outfit; not casual, but not dressed up. To say she is drop-dead gorgeous is an understatement…the girl is sizzling, just like her bestie.

  “So you must be THE Romeo Hutton, murderer extraordinaire,” she says, her dark eyes twinkling as they size me up from head to toe.

  “Guilty of being one and the same,” I smile, turning on the legendary charm. I had made sure I dressed to show off my physical characteristics, donning a pair of slacks and close-fitting pink long-sleeved shirt, cuffed below the elbow and unbuttoned to the middle, displaying my massive guns and chest.

  I’m feeling rather sorry for Soraya tonight. If her little pussy had gotten moist looking at me in a suit, then she is going to damn well flood her panties this evening.

  “I’m Scarlett, by the way. Soraya’s best friend, and just so you know, I am also a lawyer. Just be very careful what you say around us.” She giggles like a schoolgirl, and stretches out her hand invitingly.

  I take her hand and plant a kiss on the back. “It’s a pleasure meeting you.”

  Scarlett’s eyes glisten. “Soraya, your convicted felon-to-be is here,” she shouts out. This girl is a tease, but I rather like her. I like a woman with a quick wit, and something about this one tells me she is the one with whom the ADA shares her secrets.

  Finally, Soraya makes her grand appearance from what must be the kitchen.

  Fuck, she is even more beautiful that when I saw her in court.

  Dressed in a floral, loose-fitting house dress that fails to totally obscure her vaunted curves, and hair in a bun, she is a vision of loveliness. Her eyes are studious, but still glow and her ebony skin appears flawless, sensual and made for loving. I can’t stop gawking at her magnificent face and her thick, full-figured body

  Here is a woman worth fighting for - Worth stepping into the arena and slaying all those fucking Gladiators to claim the prize…her.

  Soraya is a woman worth storming the gates of hell to free, if that is what it takes to win her heart.

  She reminds me so much of Toya, both in looks and build. But dammit, I have to get my ghost out of my mind tonight.

  I want to concentrate on Soraya. To find out what makes her tick.

  “So you made it, Mr. Hutton,” my prosecutor snorts, giving me the once over and eyes flaring, as if pleased with what they are seeing.

  “It’s Romeo, please. The devil himself couldn’t keep me away after receiving an invitation to have drinks and dinner with the two most beautiful women in Manhattan,” I warble.

  Soraya and Scarlett exchange knowing glances. “See, I told you he has a way with words,” Soraya exclaims to her friend, the side of her mouth curling upwards. Scarlett nods her head in affirmation.

  “A man has to live up to his name and I see you have been discussing me.” I stick out my tongue at Soraya.

  “Yeah, about how self-centered and conceited you are.”

  “I am just a man who goes after what I want.”

  “And what is it you want?” Soraya asks, putting down a container of fish on the dining table, in what is a stunningly immaculately decorated living room, which opens into a kitchen with a rather large island in front.

  “Are you sure you can handle the truth, Soraya?” I ask, pulling out a chair for her at the table and offering her a seat.

  Scarlett waves her hand wildly. “Now, time out you two. Let’s say grace and enjoy some food. Name your poison, Romeo?”

  “Scotch…Glenlivet preferable, but if not I’ll take what you have.”

  Scarlett makes her way over to the bar. “It so happens I have friends who love scotch, so you are in luck,” she says pouring me a drink. All the time I can feel Soraya’s eyes trying to pierce my being. She is looking at me curiously, holding my gaze unflinchingly. This must be her courtroom stare that she uses to drive fear into accused men before jettison them to the slammers.

  Our host pours wine for herself and Soraya, and eventually flops into a chair on the other side of where I am seated. I am now in the middle, flanked by both women.

  “I guess I am going to be the referee tonight,” Scarlett chirps, eyes roving between us. “The rule is we will not and cannot talk about the case. Is that clear to both of you kids, or this dinner is off.”

  Soraya and I both look at each other and burst out laughing at the same time.

  So the tough ADA has a sense of humor after all.

  “Seriously, Romeo, what were you thinking getting to my elevator today?” Soraya’s jaws set with determination.

  “How beautiful you were and how I would do anything to get to know you better.”

  Soraya almost chokes on her fish
, causing Scarlett to roar with laughter.

  “But you hardly know me?” The ADA squints her eyes at me.

  “I saw enough to know that you are the woman I want.” I take a sip of my scotch and stare at her, as if trying to peer into her soul. Despite herself, she blushes, and her eyes drift back to the meal in front of her.

  Scarlett punches me playfully on the arm. “We both think you are crazy, so consider this a sort of last supper before prison, Romeo,” she says rather matter-of-factly.

  “Just one question,” I say, looking at both of them.

  “What?” They both shout in unison.

  “I hope you both come and visit me when Soraya sends me to the slammers.”

  Soraya lets out a rib-tickling howl and for a moment she looks totally human, like a regular girl having fun. “For a crazy man, you do have a way with words,” she says softly. “Doesn’t he, Scarlett?”

  Scarlett finishes her glass of wine and rests her chin on the base of her palms. “Now, I have one question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Do you live in the freaking gym, Romeo?” Her eyes roam my body. “You seem to be made out of iron.”

  Glancing over at Soraya, I see her again blushing and pulling he legs tightly together under the table. Her taut nipples are barely visible under the house dress and her chest is heaving slightly.

  My ADA is a bitch in heat, of that I am certain.

  I nod my head profusely as I do enjoy working out. “Listen ladies, regardless of what comes out of all this, Soraya is going to be my woman. End of story.”

  Soraya rolls her eyes and I’m not sure if it’s in anger or heat, and she bites her bottom lips. Still, she holds her tongue.

  “Ugg,” she finally hisses. “You are incorrigible and so cocky, Romeo. I am going to wipe that smile off your face in the courtroom.”

  I look at her, my brows furrowed. “And I am going to fuck you until you scream for bloody murder in my bedroom.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Soraya

  Jeez, Romeo has finally left and not a moment too soon.

  My body is boiling.

  My sex has been clenching all evening, so much so I had to be squeezing my thighs together under the table, which I know he must have noticed.

  When I saw him enter the room in that tight shirt which hugged his body like a glove, I almost passed out.

  The man has more muscles than anyone I have ever met in my life, and he struts like he thinks he is the cat’s pajamas.

  And the way he talks to me, in that sexual tone, and telling me in front of Scarlett that I am going to be his woman, and that he is going to, pardon my French, fuck me until I scream.

  “What a man,” Scarlett screams and prances like a schoolgirl after she has shut the door behind Romeo. “Wow, Soraya, if only he wasn’t a killer. Somehow, after meeting him, I really can’t believe he killed that girl. He may be a cocky, conceited bastard, but he doesn’t strike me as a killer.”

  Rubbing my cheeks, I march over to my bestie. “Don’t let his handsome face bewitch you. I don’t think he planned it, but he killed her in a bout of rough sex and fled the scene. That is what the evidence is pointing to, and as you know I go wherever the evidence leads.”

  “Poor bastard, you are going to eat him for breakfast in the courtroom, aren’t you? But I rather like him though. Under normal circumstances he would be a good match for you,” Scarlett deadpans.

  “No way,” I protest.

  “Stop it. I could see the way you were fidgeting at the table. You were thinking about having sex with him. I have known you way too long not to know when a man turns you on.”

  “Good night, Scarlett,” I say, dodging her glare. “I have to finish my preparation for tomorrow. I’ll call you, okay. And thanks for dinner and hosting a most interesting evening.”

  My friend follows me to the door. “Seriously though, Soraya, have you ever considered the possibility that he may be innocent?”

  “Naw,” I reply. “The evidence is clear, so let’s not broach that topic again. Anyway, whose side are you on anyway?’

  With that I run out the door and head for my apartment. It’s been a long time since I have pleasured myself, but tonight I need a finger. No, more than a finger, but if that’s the best I have to work with, a finger will just have to do.

  ***

  For some strange reason I am on pins and needles in the courtroom today.

  Me, the tough as nails prosecutor who makes defense attorneys tremble in their boots and accused men and women quake at my name.

  Why am I feeling this way?

  But when I look over at the accused, I know the real reason.

  Romeo Hutton, that’s why.

  The mere presence of the man is getting under my skin. He is causing my hormones to feel out of whack like no other man has ever done before.

  The ache in my crotch is real, and doesn’t seem to want to go away. Not even my fingers could quell the horniness I was feeling last night, and touching myself left me more frustrated than satisfied.

  And there he is, sitting down with that arrogant look on his face. He knows I know that his eyes are on me, watching my ass, my breasts, and just that thought sparks a tickle inside my sex.

  But I begin calling my witnesses, and one by one the detectives who were on the scene paint a grim picture of the callous way the life was snuffed out of the deceased, and done by a brute of a man with hands large enough to squeeze the last breath out of her.

  A brute to which Romeo Hutton fits the bill perfectly.

  Glancing over at his massive frame and large hands, it is clear to everyone in the courtroom that he has the power to perform such a grizzly act.

  Still, all during my grilling of the witnesses, Romeo sits down studiously surveying the scene.

  Nothing seems to phase this man. He is cool, calm and calculated. His features betray no emotions.

  The detectives point out that Mr. Hutton’s semen was found in the vaginal area of the deceased, as well as bruising consistent with rough sexual activity. Skin under her nails contained his DNA, as do with her torn clothes and underwear.

  Upon cross-examination, his attorney points out that something seemed amiss, as his client used a condom during consensual sex with the deceased, so his semen being on her body was unlikely. He suggests that someone killed her and planted the semen from the condom on her body. He also suggests that her clothes were torn after Romeo had departed.

  The day, however, seems to pass quickly, during which I keep hammering away at Hutton, trying to paint him as a sexual predator, who wanted more than the deceased was willing to offer sexually.

  “Does my client look like a man who would have to force a woman to have sex with him? I suggest not,” the defense lawyer says, pointing to the handsome and dapper Hutton. And from the look on the faces of the women on the jury, I know they agree with him.

  Still, advantage prosecution at the end of the day, and I sit at my desk gathering my files while officers of the court and members of the gallery file out of the courtroom. From the corner of my eyes I see Romeo’s attorney trying to get him to leave, but he simply waves him off and sits at the desk sending text messages on his phone.

  Just the act of him sitting there playing with his phone is unnerving to me.

  Darn, I want him to leave. I know he is waiting on me to have a conversation, but I can’t handle another meeting in the elevator, or even a chat with him. This man is taking me out of my comfort zone; one which I have carefully crafted as my courtroom mojo.

  Yes, although my parents were a black working-class couple, they knew the value of a good education. Having realized early that I wanted to be a lawyer, I worked my ass off in high school to always be top of my class, and eventually gained a full academic scholarship to Harvard Law School.

  I remember the look of pride on their faces when I graduated top of my class and received offers from a number of the top law firms in the country. But my heart was set on be
ing a prosecutor. I saw first-hand what crime had done to my New York neighborhood, and decided to come back to The Big Apple and join the Manhattan District Attorney’s office.

  It was if I was born for this job, racking up a serious of low-level wins in my early cases, and as my confidence grew I started getting the tougher cases, which I aced. I became driven; working twenty- hour days to ensure I never lost a case.

  Now, with my dreams finally realized in snagging the most high-profile case in my career; a case during which I should be at the top of my game, I am being distracted by the accused himself.

  Why does this man have to be so darn panty-dropping attractive and charismatic? Cocky even. He knows the effect he has on me and is not afraid to flaunt it in my face.

  Shuffling my papers and placing them in my attaché case, I glance over at Romeo, realizing for the first time that the courtroom is now totally empty, expect for he and I. My heart is hammering in my chest. Every nerve ending in my body is quivering, and sweat forms in my palms.

  Never in my life has a man had this effect on me. Not at college, and certainly not in my office. Everywhere I go men are constantly hitting on me. For a big woman, I am well-proportioned, and I work out to keep my body tight, knowing I will never be small.

  I will always be thick and curvy, with meat on my bones, but I am confident in my own skin as a proud big, beautiful, African-American woman.

  Out of the corner of my eyes I see Romeo rising from his seat and sauntering over to my table. I try desperately to stuff all the papers into my case so I can beat a hasty retreat before he reaches where I am sitting. But too late, with a couple strides of his giant legs he is standing behind me with that trademark cocky grin on his face.

  “Touché…great job today, Miss ADA, you kicked my lawyer’s butt,” Romeo chortles, examining his fingers. “I guess you are right, my bare hands could easily snap that girl’s neck, but it didn’t.”

  Shifting in my seat due to the uncomfortable closeness of his body, I keep my head straight ahead, hoping he will go away. “I would rather not talk about the case, Mr. Hutton. As I said, it is totally inappropriate for you to be discussing it with me.”