Blurb: Criminal defense attorney Veronica Winters always wondered what it would be like with sexy former detective Trace Rooks. Even though he’s an ex-convict now, because of her, she still wonders. Ronnie has always felt damned guilty for recommending a plea deal that sent an innocent man to jail. When she finds out he’s back in jail and a friend asks her to question him about the situation, Ronnie thinks she might finally have the opportunity to set things right with him.
At the jail though, she finds a changed man she almost doesn’t recognize. The scars on the outside are nothing compared to the scars he bears inside. Instead of the charming, easy going man she represented four years prior, his attitude now is as hard as his body. But she finds out the new, edgier Trace Rooks turns her on even more than the man she knew before.
Trace Rooks, would love nothing better than seeing the Shark Lady get her due for sending him to prison unjustly. He would make sure Ronnie Winters eventually got hers, but at the moment, he had other priorities. Like taking down his corrupt father. The man who had paid off the woman touted to be the best criminal defense attorney in the state to help send him to prison.
When Ronnie shows up at the jail asking questions, Trace isn’t giving her anything except a hard time. He believes she’s there on his father’s behalf again, and there is no way in hell he is falling for her lines again. Trace was a man that learned for his mistakes, and trusting Ronnie Winters had been the biggest of his life.
But when Ronnie doesn’t get the answers she wants from him, she starts digging around on her own. Trace knows that can get him killed or sent back to prison again. He decides that the best thing he can do is heed his grandfather’s advice to keep his friends close and his enemies closer. He isn’t sure which camp Ronnie Winters falls into yet, but he’s going to keep her close until he figures it out.
Maybe he could get the answers he’d been looking for the last three years. If not, he could at least get his pound of flesh from the mouthy, leggy redhead every man in Texas was afraid of. Trace wasn’t afraid of Ronnie Winters, but he quickly finds out he isn’t immune to her either. When that leads to thinking he might just have misjudged the beautiful redhead before, and perhaps there was more to her than met the eye, Trace knows he’s in deep trouble.
The flames licking at her insides were from anger now not desire. “Well, if that isn’t the most romantic thing a man has ever said to me. I think I’ll have to pass,” she said and turned to stalk toward the door. Her hand closed over the door knob as his dropped on her shoulder. “Wait, Red…”
Ronnie fought to corral the emotions trying to consume her. She was not emotional, had never been prone to drama. But if she turned and looked at Trace Rooks right now, she had a feeling she would turn into a bawling, screaming, emotional…woman. She sucked in a breath then twisted the knob.
The door cracked open, but he leaned his arm over her shoulder to push it closed. “I said wait. I want to talk to you.”
“You’re an asshole. I have nothing to say to you,” Ronnie said, folding her arms across her chest, mortified at the emotion she heard in her voice.
“Yeah, I am an asshole,” he agreed with a dark chuckle
“Well, at least we agree on something,” she grated, reaching for the door knob again. She needed to get away from this man as fast as she could, before she turned around and did what he asked. Beg him to fuck her.
Trace leaned closer to her ear to whisper sexily, “Tell me what you want, Red.” His hot breath tickled her ear, sending tingles down her neck, across her chest directly to her nipples and they hardened.
“What I want is to get out of here,” she replied weakly.
His heat surrounded her when he leaned into her body and trailed his fingers down her arm to her wrist, leaving chill bumps in their wake. He closed his hand over hers and that warmth spread through her body before he pried her fingers off of the door knob. Ronnie knew she was in trouble when he turned her to face him. He trapped her against the door with his big body, and his eyes met hers.
“Is this what you want, Red?” he asked as his head slowly descended toward hers. He shoved his fingers into her hair as his mouth closed over hers in a sensual kiss. The emotions that were balled up in her chest unfurled in the most spectacular fireworks display she’d ever seen behind her closed eyes.
Yes, this is exactly what I want, she thought, as his other hand glided from her shoulder to her waist. He gently pulled her against his hard body, and swallowed Ronnie’s sigh into his mouth. His tongue found hers and invited it into an erotic dance that sent all the moisture in her body downward.
This was the man that Ronnie remembered. The man she wanted him to be again. The man she wanted to make love to her.
“You want answers, Veronica?” Trace ground out, his eyes hard and dark. His arm shot across the table, and she flinched. He laughed and grabbed her pen then leaned back and dropped it under the table. Lowering his voice, he leaned forward again to growl, “Let me tell you what I want, then you decide if you still want those answers.” He drummed his fingers on the table.
Tingles of alarm coursed through Veronica traveling with the excitement already buzzing along her nerve endings. Something wasn’t right here. Trace Rooks wasn’t right. Three years in prison had warped him, changed him into a man she didn’t know. One who scared her a little. And that was saying a lot. Because men didn’t scare her—ever. She was the one who scared them.
Veronica stiffened her shoulders, and her spine to sit up straighter in her chair. She was The Shark Lady, the best damned criminal lawyer in Amarillo, and he better damn well remember who he was talking to.
Trace shoved his chair up under the table, and the sound grated through her. He slouched in the chair, and drummed his fingers on the table again. “What I want, Red, is for you to get under that table, and pick up that pen,” he drawled, his eyes glittering with purpose. The scar on his cheek deepened when his mouth twisted into a travesty of a smile. “While you’re under there, I want you to unzip my pants and suck my dick. If you do a good enough job of it, I’ll give you your answers.”
Ronnie snorted, and leaned back in her chair crossing her arms over her chest. “Dream on, big boy.”
He was out of his mind if he thought she was going to do that. Her eyes involuntarily traveled to the camera mounted in the corner. Not that the camera mattered, there was no way she was going to do what he wanted even if there wasn’t a camera. But the thought of it made her wet. The possibility of getting caught, the probability of getting away with something so daring.
“I’m not dreaming,” he said smoothly. “You’re the one who came here to get answers from me. That’s the only way you’re going to get them, Veronica. I haven’t had sex in three years because of you. You owe it to me. Bet mine doesn’t taste any different than Leland’s did.”
Three years? Trace Rooks had only served two years, and had been out of prison for six months. Before he went to prison, Trace Rooks didn’t have trouble finding a willing woman. She couldn’t believe getting laid wasn’t near the top of his priority list when he got out of prison. While she worked on his case, Veronica knew of at least two women he was with when he was out of jail pending court hearings. One of them had even been in the courtroom, bawling hysterically when he was sentenced.
Either one of those women would probably do just what he asked. Veronica wasn’t those women. And she absolutely was not getting under that table to suck Trace Rooks off.
His eyes narrowed and a smug smile kicked up the corner of his firm mouth. “You asked me back then why Leland wanted me in jail. What if I told you?” he asked with a lifted brow. “Would you suck my dick for that information? How far would you go, Veronica? Would you swallow when I come in your mouth too?” Trace sucked a breath in through his teeth and moved one of his hands under the table. “God, I’m hard just thinking about it.”
Her eyes focused on his mouth. Firm, full lips that spewed his venom, issued his dirty challenges. “Stop being vulgar, Trace. You’re just trying to shock me. Just talk to me. I’m trying to help you here.”
“Help me, help you. Isn’t that what you told me when you said I should accept that bogus plea deal, Red?”
“I was trying to help. Taking that deal was in your best interest,” she said leaning back in her chair again. She glanced under the table and the pen taunted her.
Trace laughed harshly. “You helped me right into three years in prison. Now I’m going to help you get your answers, right after you give me a blow job.”
She snorted, and lifted a brow. “Keep screwing with me and I’ll get under that table and bite your dick off,” she threatened.
He leaned forward on his elbows, and met her eyes directly. “You bite me and when I get out, I’ll tie you up and spank your ass until you beg me to fuck you.” Trace wasn’t kidding. His dark eyes were focused on her, and he didn’t blink, not once. A dull throb started at the apex of her thighs, and she uncrossed her legs to press her knees together.
This was ridiculous. Ronnie didn’t like kinky sex, had never had a partner who was into it either. Why was she getting so turned on then by his naughty suggestions?
She shook her head to clear it. This wasn’t getting her anywhere. She also realized she wasn’t getting anywhere with Trace Rooks, and considering his mood, she wasn’t going to. Veronica scraped her chair back, then reached down for her briefcase.
The black pen near his foot taunted her again. He used the toe of his boot to slowly shove it to one side, then the other, and she felt his gaze hot on the side of her face. Back and forth, he moved it, teasing her. But he said nothing.
There was no way she could leave that pen there. It was a very expensive Mont Blanc. A pen she had been given by her attorney father when she graduated from law school. A memoir of the only time in her life he’d ever told her he was proud of her. So what if he’d only said it on the card that came with the pen, and he was a thousand miles away in Northern California handling a big case at the time. He had finally said it.
“Do it, Red,” Trace urged in a low growl, as he edged the pen with his toe again. She dropped to her knees beside her briefcase and crawled under the table. She saw Trace’s hand resting on his crotch. He stroked himself, and she saw the hard ridge of his large penis outlined under his jeans. Her mouth watered, as she contemplated doing what he asked.
She had always been curious what the big draw was with him. Why women were always after him. Policewomen and attorneys alike, even the female criminals fell prey to his charms. Hell, she’d even heard he’d done a judge and a female senator, while he was a detective. He must be one hell of a lover is all she could come up with. Curiosity about him is what had her so hot and bothered when she was representing him.
Trace unzipped his jeans, and she saw his thick erection straining at the top of his tight white underwear. She bit back a groan, as her hand closed around the ink pen. His foot landed on top of her hand to trap it.
“You know you want to do it, Veronica. You’ve wanted to do it for years. Since you first met me,” he suggested softly. “Now’s your chance, Red. To get your answers and satisfy your curiosity.” His sexy, tempting voice sent a chill down her spine.
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