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

by Kylie Hudson

  I laugh, tapping Tanner on the shoulder. “Yeah, she sure is a looker, Tanner, and she is also a lawyer. I think you should meet up with her and see for yourself what she is all about.”

  Tanner nods in agreement and I head for my office, leaving both my brothers in animated discussion.

  Now that I am finally certain this was a set-up, and who the culprits are, my mind begins working overtime. My years on the streets had taught me that you can never show weakness to your enemies, and I am not about to start now. Once we get sufficient evidence to prove my innocence, Logan and his cronies are going to feel my wrath, and Soraya will be under no pressure to jail my ass. But if we don’t get the evidence in time, I will have to face her on the witness stand.

  Somehow, the thought of being grilled by Soraya sends a burst of adrenaline through my body. This may just be fun after all.

  But once this trial is over, I am claiming her as my prize.

  My prize attorney.

  Thankfully, it’s a Friday evening, and the trial doesn’t resume until Monday, so I have a whole freaking weekend to myself. Tanner and Noah are manning the ship, as I am technically on a leave of absence from the company, even though I still pull the strings from the sidelines. Plus, they have a plethora of managers and technocrats to give them the best business advice money can buy.

  My mind is on Soraya. Fucking her in the elevator had been so damn erotic. The image of her on her knees sucking on my cock causes a throbbing in the pits of my stomach and the edge of my fingertips.

  Why does the thought of this woman always get me so hot and bothered? My desire to possess her is like a damn drug coursing through my veins, rippling up my bloodstream.

  If this is what love feels like, now I understand why so many wars have been fought, and crimes committed, all in the name of pussy...sorry, I mean love.

  Punching the key that stores her private number on my phone, I place the instrument to my ear which is pricked, anticipating the heady sound of her sensuous voice. “Hi,” Soraya answers throatily, careful not to call me by name. “Funny hearing from you.”

  “Why is it funny?”

  “Because you almost never call me.”

  “Trust me, if I had it my way I would call you every second, of every minute, of every hour of the day.”

  “Liar.”

  “It’s the truth. I am obsessed with you.”

  “Obsessed? Is that a good thing?”

  “It’s a very good thing in my book. It means I want all of you, body and soul.”

  “You have my mind and body, now you want my soul?”

  “Yes, I want to be the first person you think of when you wake up in the mornings and the last when you go to bed at nights.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s how I think of you.”

  “You are such a sweet liar.”

  She makes me smile and laugh much like my deceased love once did. But with her it’s different. This is a more mature Romeo, and Soraya is a totally different, more exotic creature. We’re not kids like Toya and I were.

  “It’s the weekend and I want to spend some quality time with you, baby,” I tell her, my voice filled with more than its normal share of tenderness. I want to relax in her presence. To roll over in a bed and see her beautiful face beside me. I want a normal weekend.

  I can hear her hesitating on the other end of the line. “But you know we can’t be seen in public. What we are doing is dangerous, at least until the case ends, and even then we may still have to be careful, depending on the result. I fear we are in a no-win situation, my love.”

  “I have a place in Montauk that we can go and spend two days together. It is fully secured and no one will ever know we are together. Let’s meet tonight and drive over together,” I hum. “I want to wake up with you in the morning.”

  Again Soraya hesitates. “I guess it will be okay,” her voice sounds unsure. “But I’d like to wake up in your arms as well, and this could be your last weekend as a free man.”

  I burst out laughing. “I keep telling you, my learned counselor, that I will never see the insides of a cell. The only jail I want to be is the one in your arms.”

  Soraya lets out a throaty laugh, her voice tugging at my heartstrings. “I will see you tonight then, hunny,” she croons.

  “And Soraya,” I say.

  “Yes, Romeo.”

  “Take along a bathing suit…a bikini. I have a private beach.”

  “I hate wearing bikinis. All the men stare when I do.”

  “This time it will be for my eyes only.”

  “Only if you promise not to rip it apart like you do with my panties. I want to bring my favorite pair.”

  ***

  As if involved in some clandestine operation, Scarlett steers her car toward mine and gives me a friendly wave as Soraya slips out of the back seat and into my heavily tinted Mercedes SUV. My prize attorney is very cautious about us meeting, and wants to cover her tracks, a decision with which I fully concur.

  She is sitting beside me as I shift the vehicle into drive, step on the accelerator and roar off into the night. A wry smile creases her gorgeous face. It’s a smile which melts my heart. She is just so beautiful that every time I see her I have to pinch myself, that for the second time in my life I have found a woman that’s beautiful beyond belief.

  I tuck my right hand into hers, trying to reassure her that everything is going to be alright, and she leans over and places her head on my shoulder, making gooey eyes at me.

  When she lets down her hair, Soraya Griffin is the complete opposite of the bulldog she portrays in the courtroom. In that domain she is bossy and overpowering, fearless beyond belief. But here, leaning on my shoulder, she looks like a little lovesick puppy; comfortable and needy.

  “I don’t know what you have done to me, Romeo,” she whispers. “But I have fallen hopelessly in love with you. And if you do go to prison, I promise I will wait for you…for us. I am yours, eternally. You are stuck with my ass for life.”

  Pulling over to the side of the road, I stop the car, pull her into my arms and crush her lips with mine. She tastes like strawberry, sweet and inviting, and were it any other time I would fuck her right here, right now in the car.

  “You’re so crazy. Start the car and let’s go,” she laughs, using her elbow as a weapon to poke me in the ribs. “You will have all the time to kiss me when we get to your house, and I can’t wait to see the beach. It’s been a long time I haven’t had a swim.”

  Disappointed that I have to let her go, I steer the car back onto the road and continue the journey. Although I can’t see them, I know Dominic’s expensive and well-trained mercenaries are monitoring my every move, and no prying eyes will get anywhere close to us this weekend.

  Finally, we pull into the expansive driveway and proceed toward the beach house. I press the control to open the covered garage, and kill the SUV’s ignition.

  “You own this mansion?” Soraya asks, eyes peeled, drinking in her surroundings.

  “It’s far from being a mansion,” I caution. “Just a big old house that needs a woman’s touch.”

  Everything is remote-controlled, so with a press of a key on my cell phone the glass doors open, and with a dramatic wave of my hand I welcome her inside.

  It’s a warm summer evening so I flick on the air conditioning. “Welcome to one of my holiday homes,” I gargle. “Make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa.”

  Soraya’s eyes are wandering around, seemingly enamored with the lavish furnishings. I quite fancy myself a collector of fine art and décor, so every piece of furniture and painting on the walls have been specially chosen.

  “This is pretty nice. I never figured you had such exquisite taste, so I am really impressed.” Soraya takes my arm and plants a kiss on my cheek.”

  “What was that for?” I wonder out loud.

  “That’s for taking me here. But come show me the beach? ” She squeals like an excited schoolgirl on her first spri
ng break adventure.

  Taking her hand, I lead her to the patio overlooking the ocean. It’s a lovely view, one I like to sit on the patio and enjoy when I am staying here or entertaining close friends. If truth be told, I won the house in a poker game with some of my friends, and then did a total refurbishing. The sad part is that I am so driven to make money I really don’t get a chance to enjoy the toys that I have in my possession.

  Being with Soraya will change all that, I try and convince myself. Once all this drama has passed, I will turn over more of the responsibilities to my younger brothers, and maybe start a family.

  These are things I haven’t thought about in many, many years. But I see a future with this smart and wonderful woman by my side.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Soraya tugs on my shoulder, bringing me back to reality.

  “I was just imagining how nice this place would be to raise a family.” I look at her lovingly.

  Soraya’s eyes roll over, ogling me in surprise. “Really, my love? Somehow I never pictured you as a family man. I just thought you were a modern-day Romeo who picked up women in bars and have sex with them, but who is never serious about long-term relationships.”

  I give her the evil eye and begin pouting, causing her to double up in laughter.

  We both flop into one of the swinging chairs on the patio, and huddle together. “After Toya died, I never really cared about love, emotions or anything like that. My life was just about money, power and pretty women. But now, after meeting you, my perspective has changed,” I confess.

  Her eyes transform into a range of different colors as she hangs on to my every word. “I like the Alpha Male that you are in the bedroom and in public, but I also like this more emotional side of you too,” Soraya says, running her fingers through her hair and stroking my chest.

  We talk for what seems like hours about simple things, pouring our hearts out to each other. Both of us opening up to another individual like we have never done before, until finally I look around and realize she has fallen asleep right here in my arms. I swoop my big, beautiful woman in my arms and take her upstairs to the master bedroom, undress her and pull the covers over her limp body.

  Soraya looks so peaceful when she is sleeping…almost angelic.

  I spend the next hour just looking at her, realizing I have fallen deeply in love with this woman, but that we are both in a very complicated situation. One that could blow up in our faces at any time.

  Time is running out. I need to end this trial soon, or I am not sure what will become of us. The one thing I am sure of, though, is that I will not drag her name into the gutter.

  Finally, I place my arm around her and join my lover in the arms of Morpheus.

  CHAPTER 8

  Soraya

  I awake to the sweet aroma of eggs, bacon and French toast waffling in my nose.

  Groggy, I try and sweep the cobwebs from my head with my fingers, while stretching in what is a massive king-size bed.

  Opening my eyes, I realize I am naked and in a very tastefully decorated room, yet masculine room. Romeo is nowhere in sight.

  The room is filled with hundreds of black roses. I feel as if I am in a forest of roses, but oh my goodness, my heartbeat escalates in my chest… They look absolutely divine.

  This man… This Romeo Hutton is unlike any other man in the world. He thinks outside the box and just does everything so different from mere mortals. I am beginning to get sucked up in the vortex that’s his world.

  Damn, I feel so guilty about falling asleep on him last night. But the setting was so peaceful and comfortable, that I had drifted off in his arms. He must have carried me upstairs and tucked me in.

  Stifling a yawn, I saunter into the bathroom and after a long, hot shower, I feel on top of the world, ready to tackle whatever my lover has planned for the day.

  I’m truly not sure what kind of relationship we have, but for now I am enjoying finally having a man in my life. A man who is my equal, and knows how to handle a headstrong woman like me.

  I slip on my favorite G-string bikini; the one with a tiny triangle that barely covers my pronounced mound. I only wear it when I am far away from men, as it looks just obscenely sexy on my big body and men constantly stare at me. But knowing my hunky lover, he will go wild at the sight of my bikini-clad body

  Donning a pair of shorts over the bikini bottom, I descend the winding staircase, following my nose into the kitchen where I find Romeo firmly ensconced, dishing out two plates of my favorite breakfast.

  Damn it, he is dressed in a t-shirt that hug his body, his muscles rippling and a pair of shorts that shows off his massive legs that look like that of a race horse. I admire the planes and contours of his chest, arms and shoulders. Listen, this man is chiseled to perfection, like a storybook prince; his body radiating a raw and primal strength causing that familiar tickle in my tummy.

  I am in heat just by looking at him; my nipples pressing uncomfortably against the tiny top of my bikini which barely covers my ample bosom.

  Here I am, hungry but food, but sighing at Romeo’s sheer gorgeous perfection and lusting after another type of a meal.

  “How did you know what I like for breakfast?” I ask, rushing over and jumping in his arms, planting a wet kiss on his lips.

  “I asked Scarlett, of course,” he retorts. “She spilled the beans like any good best friend would.”

  I make a ridiculous face. “Hmm, remind me to give her a piece of my mind,” I joke. “But did you actually prepare all this yourself?” I point to the plate of fresh fruits and pastries.

  “I had the pastries and fruits delivered yesterday since I wanted us to have the house to ourselves, devoid of servants,” he says. “But I made the eggs, bacon and French toast. Here, have a seat and dig in.”

  Being famished, I sit at a chair at the large dining room table and start wolfing down the breakfast. “Man this is delicious. Compliments to the chef,” I say, smacking my lips in delight. “I had no idea you could cook, much less this good. I just imagined you with servants catering to your every whim.” I give him the playful eye and he smiles broadly… a smile that lights up my heart.

  “I had to take care of myself and my brothers from a very young age, remember?” Romeo flexes his biceps, which resemble tree trunks. I mean his muscles are simply otherworldly.

  “And by the way, thanks for the roses,” I say in between mouthfuls of bacon and eggs. “And black, really? Who else would think of that but you?”

  Romeo scrunches his brow. “Black roses for my black woman; a very special black woman too. You are unlike anyone I have ever met and I adore you.” He reaches over and kisses me on the cheek, his massive chest heaving.

  I notice a storm of emotions briefly passing behind his normally impassive face. A face that’s predatory; primal even, but not without compassion.

  “So when are we going to hit the beach?” I chipper, excited at the prospect of spending a normal day with him, far away from the maddening crowd in the Manhattan courtroom, and a chance at sex in more comfortable confines.

  “How about right now?” Romeo raises his bulky frame from the chair, pulls off his t-shirt and reaches for a towel.

  Finally, I get to really feast my eyes at his body. His tattooed back is covered in soaring lines and inked bands loop around his bulging arms.

  Walking over to him, I notice a scar on his side and massage it with my fingers. “A relic of the past,” he grunts. “A reminder of the days when life was tough on the mean streets of the Bronx.”

  There is a pained expression in his eyes, but they suddenly change. “Let’s go right now.” Romeo slaps me on the backside with his towel and lunges for the door leading out to the beach. I run after him, playfully tugging at his shorts. His giant arms encircle my too-tiny-for-a-big-girl waist, and he gives me a soul-searching look.

  I’m in seventh heaven as I stroll down toward the beach, arm-in-arm with the man I have fallen hopelessly in love with. My mind is giving scar
cely a thought of the future, but content to just live in the few hours available to us today. A few hours when we can behave as normal lovers would, and test the extent of our feelings.

  “I have been waiting to see that bikini bottom all morning, so take that fucking shorts off before I rip it off you,” he growls savagely. There is a primal hunger in his voice that sends my pulse racing. It’s as if this man makes the world dim around the edges and I detect a raging beast of need in his eyes.

  The beach itself is beautiful. “Where did you get all this white sand?” I ask, my toes playing in the water rippling beneath me.

  “I imported it all. Had the entire beach reconstructed to my specifications,” he says, like a proud papa. “Best investment I ever made.”

  It is indeed, sand stretching for several hundred meters and the water a stream of blue all the way to the horizon.

  Hesitantly, I unzip my shorts and step out of it, baring my body to his scrutiny.

  Romeo sucks in air and gives my body a bold, sweeping gaze. His pupils dilate and turn a darker shade of green, showing off his filthy desires. Looking down to his waist, I stand transfixed at his growing bulge, knowing it is because of me. Hot craving flares in his bold eyes which are raking me, undressing me.

  To think that growing up I was always self-conscious of my body which was larger than most girls. The one thing that kept me from having an inferiority complex, when watching the cheerleaders flexing their svelte bodies, was the fact that I had a small waist, and I was curvy as hell. By the time my boobs reached ripeness, all the boys had started looking in my direction, making a play to get into my panties.

  I meet the heat of Romeo’s gaze with my own and emboldened, I run my finger along the bulge in his pants, watching him whimper and suck in air. His bulge seems to be growing even larger.

  Teasingly, I race into the water. “Last one in is a rotten egg,” I says playfully, as Romeo scrambles after me. But too late, I dive into a wave and swim away. However, with a few strokes of his powerful arms Romeo catches up to me, holding my body under the water.

  It feels so freaking good to be sucked up in his arms. I can feel his massive bulge pressing against the moist fabric creased between my legs, and hot flames flare in the most feminine crevice of my being.