Possessive Lawyer: An Instalove Possessive Alpha Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 183)

  CONTENTS

  Possessive Lawyer

  NEWSLETTER

  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

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  NEWSLETTER

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS

  LAIRDS & LADIES

  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD

  IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS

  About the Author

  POSSESSIVE LAWYER

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 183

  FLORA FERRARI

  Copyright © 2020 by Flora Ferrari

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  POSSESSIVE LAWYER

  Beth

  The small brass plaque reads J. Sharkey. Attorney at law.

  The shark… I muse to myself.

  I need a real lawyer to help me and my dad out though, not some shady shark.

  It sounds too good to be true. He does one free case a year, plus he’s local so what harm would it do to at least ask if he could help?

  As soon as I see him though, I know I’m his.

  As soon as he touches me, I know I’m done.

  I never thought an older guy like him would ever go for a curvy younger woman like me, but like they say most shark bites are out of curiosity only.

  They never really attack unprovoked.

  Unless they know what they really want.

  Jarrett

  Twenty years I’ve spent, building a practice and making a name for myself.

  Now it feels like all the next twenty will bring is worrying about my retirement.

  I never made time for what she offers, because I never saw it up close. I never even knew it existed. I thought love at first sight was something desperate people dreamed of on lonely nights

  And she’s just walked right into my office, proving me wrong in a second.

  Her dad’s made a mistake, and her landlord’s making an even bigger one.

  I’ll fight using every legal angel at my disposal, for any client.

  But for her, I’ll do anything, no matter what it takes. Legal or otherwise.

  To keep her safe, to see justice served, and most importantly.

  To make her mine forever.

  *Possessive Lawyer is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Beth

  “Sounds like you need ‘The Shark,’” Tiffany says dramatically, knowingly.

  She’s the only waitress at the diner I work at that talks to me, but right now I’m in no mood for her stories or daydream fantasies.

  “What I need is for you to take my shift this afternoon. Please? So I can try and sort out this mess my dad’s got himself into,” I tell her, fighting back emotion.

  “Shark,” she says matter of fact, chewing something loudly before putting me out of my misery and agreeing to take my ten hour shift.

  Tiffany’s a bubble head sometimes, but she’s also saved my ass in the past, and again today.

  “Thank you,” I exhale, feeling a tiny bit less anxious.

  “I hope you get it sorted out, sounds scary, but this shark guy? He’s a real lawyer, never lost a case. He gets everybody off and he does one case every year for free, Pro Bolo.”

  “Pro Bono,” I correct her, groaning a laugh but thanking her, and the heavens for getting me the day off.

  “No sweat. I heard these two guys talking about him after seeing his ad the other day. Real mean looking guys too, but they were talking about the shark like he was some sort of saint.”

  Hanging up after gushing that I owe her one, already promising to do this Sunday to return the favor, I have the word ‘shark’ circling in my head for some reason.

  Tiffany sends me a text right after I hang up, the shark’s address. Not that I’m interested in any shady lawyers. I’ll finish baking my brownies, something I always do when I’m stressed, and then I’ll…

  What am I gonna do?

  If I don’t find a lawyer to get my dad out of this whole lease agreement mess he’s got us into, we’re both royally screwed.

  The oven pings and my cell chimes again.

  Not now Tiffany.

  It’s a picture this time. A man.

  The kind of man I only dream of, with the word ‘Shark’ and a crazed emoji with some eggplant and mushrooms after it.

  It’s a magazine or print ad from a flyer. The man’s in a suit that fits, but his muscular frame is screaming through it. His arms bulge against the sleeves as he holds his chiseled jaw in contemplation.

  Piercing, intense dark eyes smolder underneath a cocked brow, his stubble-peppered lip curling in a half smile showing enough of his perfectly straight and glimmering teeth to show me he’s the full package.

  I only wish he had a full body shot. Maybe the swimsuit edition.

  As soon as I realize it’s really him, I feel my legs weakening and my t-shirt tightening against my stiff chest. I let out a small moan and feel a flush of warmth someplace nice. Suddenly twenty degrees hotter at the thought of a man like that down there.

  A real man.

  Not that I have any real experience in that department, I’ve never even kissed a boy let alone…

  But, if you’re gonna travel why not ride in a Rolls Royce? First class.

  Tiffany’s voice rings in my mind again, ‘…he does one case every year for free…’

  I just know it’s him. He’s the one. There’s something in his intense gaze that tells me I’m already his. He’s the one who can save me. He’s the only one who can save me.

  And dad?

  Well… He can save dad too, I’m sure. But there’s a fire inside me now, lit by a single glimpse of him. I have to meet him, I have to put myself in front of him, whatever it takes.

  Lord only knows how hot he must be in real life if his photo turns my mound into a heated indoor aquarium.

  As soon as the Brownies are cool enough, the ones that are left after I’ve had my fill are in a paper sack and I’m off to the beach.

  The shark’s office is right across from the pier, which isn’t far at all.

  I
hope he has a sweet tooth, I hope he’ll hear my case.

  I hope he can get me off.

  Whoa! Where did that come from?

  I mean, I hope he can help my dad and me out of this jam.

  I find the address easy enough, but if it wasn’t for the small brass plaque above the solid oak door, I’d never know he even existed.

  J. Sharkey. Attorney at law.

  The shark… I muse to myself.

  Taking a deep breath, I feel the sweat building on my palms as I push the door open, the entrance to a narrow wood paneled hall that has a room at the other end.

  I don’t know what to expect, maybe the swimsuit version of his photo?

  Maybe him fixing something. He looks like the type who’s great with his hands.

  Maybe…

  “Yes?”

  The nasally, high pitched voice breaks my reverie. The shark daydream bursting from fantasy to crushing reality in one second.

  “Can I help you?” the voice demands, more insistent.

  I peer over the high counter and my heart sinks.

  Miss perfect. His secretary.

  She’s what most people consider attractive. She’s in shape and has perfect skin, but her face looks mean, lifeless. Pointy.

  Like Malibu Barbie, painted with a judgy look in her eyes.

  I might have known. I almost groan aloud as I realize how foolish I can be sometimes, actually believing in my own imagination.

  As if a guy like this shark would ever go for a girl like me.

  “Can. I. Help. You?” The woman tones impatiently, as if she’s addressing a child.

  “Uh… I need to speak with… umm… Mr. Sharkey?” I hear myself stammer as she stands up, her hands on her desk in front of her, looking me up and down.

  With a raised brow, she notices my paper sack and I see her thin nostrils twitch. But her eyes go back to me, scanning my body before she shakes her head.

  “Sorry,” she says dismissively. “Mr. Sharkey is out. And if you don’t have an appointment…”

  “I can wait-” I hear myself squeak, creaking the boards as I move over to the small, thin chairs against the wall.

  The secretary’s eyes narrow, her lips purse together, as if she’s about to get nasty, but the sudden deep and sultry tones of a man’s strong voice make her sit down again.

  “I thought you said he was out?” I ask, settling into my chair, hearing it creak too but feeling like I have a chance at this after all.

  “Fine,” she huffs. “But you’ll be waiting a long time.”

  And from the look she gives me, I know she’s going to make sure of it.

  I can wait.

  I think…

  I do have all day but my dad… those men…

  I hear the deep voice again, through the thick door on the other side of the room and I’m instantly calmed.

  Instantly aware of the effect it has on me, traveling through the solid woodwork, vibrating through the chair all the way up to my…

  A soft moan escapes me, and I hear evil Barbie’s voice from behind the counter. “Say something?” she sighs, not even looking up, scrolling through her phone.

  I clear my throat, as loud as I can, hoping I can lure the man out with a sound, followed by my opening of the paper sack, letting the aroma of fresh baked brownies fill the room.

  Nothing.

  I wait for what doesn’t feel like hours but probably is. It’s almost five by the time I jerk from my near sleep in the chair, the deep voice having kept me perfectly suspended in a state of something I’ve felt glimmers of before, but nothing like this.

  At more than one point, I feel like asking where the ladies room is, wondering if this growing wetness, this urge to touch myself is something else.

  But as soon as I hear the voice again, I know exactly what it is.

  It’s him, and I’m not budging until I see him.

  Five minutes to five rolls around, and getting up to leave for the day, his secretary buzzes through, telling Mr. Sharkey she’s leaving for the day as a smile plays on her lips, widening as my hurt registers that she hasn’t even mentioned me.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Jarrett

  Growling, I look up at the clock. Bernice’s nasal twang through the intercom making my head hurt.

  It’s five to five, not five.

  Five to five.

  Just can’t find good help these days, even at that price. But no. I’m putting my foot down.

  Enough is enough.

  I’ve done nothing all day but try and find a replacement for her, and fix the AC in here which is on the fritz, again.

  I don’t even bother putting my shirt on. I never even put it on in the first place today. What’s the point?

  It’s hot as Hades in my office plus there’s no cases anyway.

  If only I could find something… someone…

  I swing my office door wide open in one swift movement, and I hear two people gasp.

  Bernice, who’s closest to me as she makes her way to the exit, and someone else.

  Bernice hovers in the doorway to the hall, I can feel her standing there, ogling my shirtless frame but I’m not interested in her.

  The other eyes on mine are deep, clear blue, and set into the face of an angel.

  I feel my heart go, like the cord binding it so tight my whole life has suddenly been let loose at the sight of her.

  We both just stare, her mouth dropping some as her eyes eventually leave mine, taking in my half nakedness and flushing deep crimson, her legs moving wider apart by reflex.

  Ready for me.

  I feel myself moving towards her, a low growl rumbling from me, mindful of the need to protect her all of a sudden.

  The need to get her away from other people. To get her alone as soon as possible.

  “Why are you still here, Bernice? And why didn’t you tell me I had someone…”

  I try to sound mad, cold even. But looking at her, whoever she is, her sweet face, and that body.

  I can’t even muster a sane thought let alone finish what I’m trying to say.

  Bernice says something, but I’ve got my hand up, brushing her away with it. I think it’s safe to say I won’t be needing her services anymore.

  Ever.

  I’m looking at the only thing I want in the whole wide world.

  “Go. Just go,” I tell Bernice in a low voice, feeling the room lighten and brighten as soon as I hear the front door close. As soon as I’m alone with the only one I know I ever want to be with.

  She opens her mouth to speak, her breath shuddering as I notice her eyes dart down again from my chest, straight to my crotch which I feel stiffening under her gaze.

  A tiny sound is all she can manage. It’s a cross between a moan and a sigh, and I can only make my own low growl of approval as I move closer to her, holding out my hand and taking hers, which she automatically offers up.

  “I’m Jarrett.” I introduce myself, but as soon as her hand touches mine, I know I’m done for.

  I’m finished.

  There’s suddenly a tangible reason for the feeling inside me. It’s like a light’s been turned on and my whole life up until now has been in complete darkness.

  I feel my head shaking in disbelief, her own bobbing. Another moan escapes her as her eyes gloss over, rolling back in her head before she pitches sideways in a complete faint.

  I catch her before she falls too far, sweeping her up into my arms by her hand in mine, registering how soft she feels. How light and fragile she is as I carry her into my office, kicking the door closed behind me, grateful when I hear the bolt click.

  Guaranteeing we won’t be disturbed.

  Laying her gently on the long leather couch, I notice how hard she’s making me, her face pressed against my naked chest. Her long, thick blond hair flowing over me, teasing me and bouncing against the thickness of my now insanely hard cock against my pants.

  My heartbeat so loud in my ears, thumping in my chest like a piston.
I don’t want to set her down, I want to hold her forever but at the same time I want to see more of her. I want to take all of her in before she wakes.

  She’s fainted alright, although her breathing is rapid and her pulse matches mine.

  I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry, my palms sweat and my fingers even tremble a little as I brush the hair back from her face.

  It’s thick, like her chest, which is rising and falling rapidly under her tight white tee. Stiff, pebbled nipples swell even harder and little mewing sounds escape her as her eyes dance under her closed lids.

  She’s fucking perfect.

  Her wide and thick, creamy thighs are just right. Showing me more than I can bear as the split in her white skirt gives me the most delicate hint of the treasure she’s carrying. A girl who’s built for loving and definitely made for motherhood.

  A low moan escapes me, and my hand absently strays to my own organ, so hard now I feel I could climax without even touching it, without even touching her.

  But it’s the only thing I want to do right now. And a hell of a lot more after that.

  Being a law man, I know the rules. I can’t touch her, not like that. Not without her permission, which I vow to draw from her as soon as she’s…

  Her eyes flutter open, she gasps and I moan again when she squeezes her legs together. Her dreamy eyes holding onto the fragment of something.

  Something good, and something I hope involves me.

  I quickly bring a chair over, sitting down to try and hide my own arousal, but I know she sees it, making another little whimpering sound.

  “You fainted,” I tell her, biting my lip.

  “Do people even…” she starts to say, sitting up suddenly before sinking back down again.

  “Yeah, they do. And you did,” I tell her again, wanting to touch her, but not wanting to ruin my chances either.

  “Do you have a medical condition?” I ask, worried why she’d faint and always mindful of people wanting to sue, I can’t say I’m surprised she has.

  The waiting room is a little cooler, but not by much. It’s like an oven in my office.

  “No,” she scoffs gently. “I just…” she looks up at me again, and she sighs, her hand absently reaching out for me and I take it, reliving in the magic of her touch.