Justified Love (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1)

BOOK: Justified Love (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1)
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Justified Love

The Southern Gentleman Series 1

 

 

 

By

Nicole Hite

Copyright

 

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

 

Nicole Lee does not own the rights to any music, or movies.

 

Copyright
© 2014 by Kathryn H. Lee

 

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

 

Editing by Robin Griffin at Words in Play Editing Services

Cover design and art
:
Copyright
© 2014 By Kathryn H. Lee

 

Dedication:

 

To my loving husband, Justin. You are my rock and my muse. Without you, none of this would be possible.

Acknowledgements

 

There are so many people I want to thank who were instrumental in making this crazy dream a reality. I began this book as a tool and an outlet to express my creativity. My passion has developed into so much more, thanks to the amazing people I keep in my circle of friends and family.

 

First and foremost I want to thank my remarkable husband, Justin. Thank you for putting up with this insane dream of mine. For allowing me to stay up countless nights writing, while only getting limited amount of sleep (even when you told me to go to bed, and I didn’t listen). Our boys appreciate the extra snuggle time with Daddy. As cliché as this may sound, without you, I would have nothing to write about. Without you, none of this would be possible. You are my best friend and soul mate. I love you, babe.

 

My sister, bestie and bona-fide Hooker, Stormy.  Words cannot express how much I adore you. You push me to achieve any dream I have, regardless of how insane it may be (even when I had this AWESOME idea to teach Body Combat classes at the gym…. what the hell?!?!). You have been a huge support system for not only the book, but in my own life. No one gets me like you do. I know I can call you at three am if I need to, just to say howdy, and I know you won’t care. You never judge me, and for that, I am forever grateful. It’s friends like you that make this crazy thing we call life, worth it. Your loyalty and dedication to our friendship means more than you know. You’ve always had my back and I know you will always continue to. Thank you for letting me “Just be your fucking self”. Love you!

 

My amazing friend, Amanda Roberts. I am so thankful to have you in my life. Crazy how things work out, huh? It just goes to show you that the kindness of a stranger really does go a long way. I find this to be your most admirable quality. You took me under your wing when most would have discarded my morbid curiosity in writing.  Words are useless to describe the gratitude I have. Thank you for being my beta reader, my barter buddy, my friend and sister in this complex industry. If it were not for you, I would never have gotten this far. You kept me chugging along when I was skeptical of my talents. Thank you times infinity. Cheers to many more books (for you and for me) and years of friendship.  No toilet paper manuscripts for us! Wahoo!

 

Thank you to my fantastic editor, Robin Griffin at Words in Play. I’m forever grateful you didn’t throw my manuscript in the trash, and not just saying you liked it to stroke my ego. A narcissist, I am not, but hearing your honest opinion makes my job easier…and puts a smile on my face. Thank you for not just being an editor, but an editor that genuinely cares about her clients and their success. In this world, that means more than anything. Thank you for taking a chance on an unknown, first time author.

 

To my family, I apologize in advance. Yes, your daughter, sister, aunt etc., has a twisted mind. I’m sorry I didn’t tell some of you I was writing a book. My fear of judgment held me back. To all family and loved ones who have left us, I hope I make you proud. I love you all truly and deeply.

 

Thank you to anyone who reads this. It means the world to me that you would even consider my book. It’s such a humbling feeling to know anyone would read my material. Your continued love and support does not go unseen. Big hugs and kisses to fellow authors that push me to be a better writer as well as the coolest blogs and street teams I’ve ever met on Facebook. *Fist bumps to all*

 

Lastly, I would like to thank God. With him, all things are possible.

Prologue

 

              I could feel their wings flapping as they started to circle like buzzards. They squawked their hatred; ready to strike. What did I do now? Staring down at me they were tall, blonde and an evil batch of Aqua Net and blue eye shadow. Ready to wreck havoc on my self-esteem, they loomed over me as I sat on the gym floor.

 

              “Look who it is girls; “Muffin Top Mason,” said Paisley Parker. Paisley was the head supreme when it came to her flock of buzzards at Avery High School. She ruled the school, while her parents were the legacies of generations of Parker royalty running the Avery City Bank.  Aside from the Wilson family, they ran this town.

 

              “Looks like Muffin Top needs a reality check,” she preached glaring down at me with such revulsion. “See girls, Muffin Top has a little crush on our star quarterback, Colton Wilson,” she chirped to her minions - Reva Jackson and Sadie Crawford. If Reva and Sadie were flies, Paisley would be the shit; they stuck together no matter what. When Paisley said, “Jump," Reva and Sadie said, “How high?” It was sad really.

 

              As I sat there on the gym floor, the crowds started to gather in our P.E. class. My mind was racing trying to replay every situation and conversation in my head. I wonder what my punishment will be today. Oh shit, was I talking about Paisley to Harley and Skye too loud? Word vomit always got the better of me.  I can’t help it. I am my mother’s daughter. Every bone in my body wanted to pull my butt off that gym floor and let Paisley have it. I wanted to be the voice of all those people she made miserable. Undoubtedly, I coward like I always did. Fuck my life.

 

              Paisley retrieved a piece of paper from her bra and flashed it in front of the crowd as if it was a trophy for her perfectly manicured fingers.

 

              “O.M.G., Colton is so sexy,” she mimicked sarcastically. “I think he looked at me during fifth period. His blue eyes are hypnotizing…”

 

              “Stop Paisley,” I choked out. Do not cry, Carrington. Do not let this bitch get the better of you. Please, God. Do not let me cry.

 

              “…I wonder who he’s taking to the homecoming dance.”

 

              “Muffin, do you honestly think he would take a hog like you?  Colton can barely look at your fat ass. The only thing you’ll be doing homecoming night is sitting in your room with your loser friends, Harley and Skye, while eating cupcakes in your cat T2-shirts, wishing you were at the dance.”

 

              And, that did it. The tears freely started to fall to Paisley’s satisfaction. Damnit. As I wiped the uncontrollable tears from my puffy, red cheeks, I caught the blurry vision of Colt standing in the crowd. He was embarrassed, ashamed and had the look of discontent on his face. He said nothing, didn't do anything, and at that very moment, I realized what a complete fool I had been.  How could I even imagine Colton would be interested in me? Good ole’ Muffin Top Mason.

 

              Bryan White’s lyrics for “So much for pretending” played on repeat in my head. “I was looking forward to a happy ending”. You know what Bryan, suck it!

Chapter 1

 

            “Yes, Colton, Yes!”

 

              Raising my head, I looked down to see Colton licking his insatiable lips, unraveling my senses one by one. I riffled my hands through his tousled hair; it was much longer than in high school. Grabbing a hold of his silky, brown hair, I screamed, “Right there, baby.”

 

             
Who would have thought? I, Carrington Mason, was finally getting what I always wanted: Colton Wilson.

 

              Climbing up from between my thighs, Colton watched me like a tiger, ready to take his prey. The funny thing about it was I was ready to be devoured.

 

              Trying to lie as still as possible, Colt was challenging me to move before he pounced. Feeling his prickly scruff tickling my skin, he ran his tongue up my thighs. I moaned in anticipation as he reached my stomach. Colt’s primal expression laced across his face made my breath quicken, and my chest heave.

 

              Clutching my hips, he hauled me up and tossed me to the back of the bed, sending my curly, red hair bouncing off my shoulders. I shielded my body from his attack, while squirming with anticipation for his starved attention. Running his tongue up my stomach, I arched my back giving him permission to continue his pursuit.

 

              As Colton reached for my swollen breasts, my nipples were ready and on high alert.

             

             
I can’t believe this is happening! Colt feels so good exploring every inch of my body.

             

              Inhaling one breast at a time, Colton licked my silky skin, not before sucking on my nipple. Making me jump, I gripped the sheets as Colton grabbed my body to settle my restlessness. Making his way up my chest, he trailed kisses along my neck, surprising me with his possessiveness.

 

              His supple lips ran along my neck as his licking and sucking became aggressive and greedy.

 

              I couldn’t get enough of him, and I wanted more.

 

              Making his way up to my face, he pushed back on his knees, exposing his immaculate chest. He was built like the statue of David - only better. Running my petite fingertips down his chest, I traced the lines of his lower
V
, clutching at his waistband.

 

              “Take me, Colt. Take me now,” I said slipping my fingers around the elastic band.

 

              Staring at me with those intense blue eyes he opened his mouth to speak.

 

              “Talk to me, my sweet angel,” I coaxed.

 

              All I wanted to hear was his sensual voice, unfortunately beeping sounds muted it.

 

            “Tell me you want me, Colt.”

 

              Opening his mouth again, “Beep, beep, beep, beep.” Again, the beeping was the only audible sound coming from his swollen, pink lips.

 

              Desperately wanting to hear my sexy man, I couldn’t shake the annoying shriek of an alarm.

 

              Growing louder, I sat straight up in bed.

 

             
What. The. Fuck.

 

              Wiping the perspiration from my brow, I silently cursed under my breath while shutting off my alarm clock.
Dammit. It was just getting good too!

 

              Like a groggy, old man, I slipped on my fluffy, pink bunny slippers and shuffled my way across the room. Dodging the nightstand, I begrudgingly navigated my way through my tiny apartment. Even after eight years living in New York City, I never get use to the obstacle course it took to maneuver around.

 

              To say my apartment was small would be an understatement, but it was mine. All mine.

 

              Creeping into the bathroom, I fumbled for the light switch like a blind person. Delaying the inevitable, I turned around looking in the mirror.

 

             
Sweet mother, Carrington. Thank goodness my fantasy was merely a dream.

 

              Loading my toothbrush with paste, Colton would have sprinted out of the bedroom if he saw me right now.

 

              Letting the bubbles fizzle in my mouth, I strained to hear the faint sounds of my cell phone singing. “Don’t Stop Believing,” echoed off the stark walls as I hurtled over the bed like an Olympian, snatching the phone from its charger. Looking down at the display, I removed the toothbrush from my mouth before hitting talk.
Shit, my boss.
I wonder what Jim wants this early.

 

              “Good morning, Ms. Mason.”

 

              “Mr. Jackson. How can I help you this morning?” I said sweetly to my boss.

 

              “I wanted to call to let you know I’ll be holding an unscheduled meeting at 9:00 a.m., and I need you to be there.”

 

              I was shocked by his call. Jim never called me unless it was necessary. Jim Jackson was a top partner at Jackson, Marks & Moore in New York City. He also happened to be a tall, dark, handsome drink of water – and boy did he know it. Jim was ruthless and cunning, using his considerable charm to work over any jury. Panties melted at the mere sight of his twinkling smile. In my eyes, this was exactly the type of lawyer I wanted to work for after I had graduated from Columbia. He would be just the right person to push me and help to rebuild some of the confidence I’d lost in high school. I was thrilled when he hired me to be a part of his team almost a year ago.

 

              “Not a problem, Mr. Jackson. I will be there with bells on.”

 

              “Thank you, Ms. Mason. I’ll see you then.”

 

              Pushing the end on the call, I spit out the remaining foam in the kitchen sink.
Don’t judge.
Who the hell did I need to impress?
No one was waking up in my bed lately.
It had been years since I had been on a date let alone had sex. Lately, that’s all I could think about. It was as if Colton was infiltrating my brain all the way from Avery, Texas.

 

              I had been out of Avery before the graduation caps hit the ground. Thank God I’d had the support of my Dad, Granny Bird, and my two best friends - Harley and Skye. It was my strict determination to leave ‘Muffin Top Mason’ in the taillights of my beat up 1970 Ford F150.
Man, I missed my baby.

 

              Amused by my reflection, I couldn’t believe how much I had changed since high school. I was no longer the embarrassing, chubby girl, but a grown woman who was now in control of her body. As an adult, I was finally starting to master the art of shoes, hair, and makeup. The fact I knew what Louboutin heels were was a giant step in my conversion to the New York lifestyle. What worked in Texas certainly was not going to work in New York.

 


 

            Stepping off the elevator, I took a second to admire the sleek entrance of Jackson, Marks & Moore. I had been working here less than a year, but already I had climbed the ranks as an associate attorney. As a female attorney in a big city like New York, it was kill or be killed, and I didn’t have a death wish.

 

              Putting my ass to good use, I pushed open the glass doors to the firm trying not to spill the two coffees in my hands. Placing a cup on Carla’s receptionist desk, I gave her a huge smile.

 

              “Morning, Carla. How are you doing this morning, darlin’?”

 

              “Carrington, you are too sweet girl. I’m doing well, but Mr. Jackson is on a rampage.”

 

              This sort of generous knowledge is precisely why I adored Carla. Not only was she a sweetheart, but also always gave me the heads up when shit’s about to hit the fan. She was my buffer. My beautiful, friendly, appreciative, buffer. Daddy always told me, “Carr, always treat people the way you wish to be treated.” Ever since I’ve treated everyone with the utmost respect even if they didn’t deserve it, but Carla, was someone who deserved respect.

 

              Suddenly yelling interrupted our morning chit-chat.
Fantastic.
I wonder what Blake did this time.
Blake was the newest associate to join the firm, but already he seemed to be more than a handful. He was green, to put it nicely.

 

              “Time to enter the Thunderdome,” I said in a dark and twisted voice.

 

              “Two men enter…”

 

              “…one man leaves,” I finished Carla’s statement while walking toward the conference room.

 

              Straightening my formfitting, pinstripe pencil skirt, I brushed off the remains of a bran muffin from my matching suit jacket. I’d chosen this particular outfit because it showcased the goods. I’d lost so much weight since high school; my chest was in full effect. It was a great distraction in court.

 

              Walking into the lion’s den, the level of tension in the room surprised me - you could cut it with a knife. Not wanting to alarm anyone of my presence, I felt I was eavesdropping on Blake and Jim’s conversation - if you can call it that.

 

              Taking a seat at the far end of the room, I placed my lukewarm coffee on the table.

 

              “What the hell, Blake. How could you screw up so bad?”

 

              “I was taken off guard by their defense. I didn’t expect them to put Dr. Sumac on the stand.”

 

             
Oh shit. And, there goes Bonehead Blake, again.

 

            “You weren’t prepared for any situation. How many times have we had this discussion? Expect the unexpected.”

 

            “I’m sorry, sir,” Blake groveled.

 

            “Mason! Get me, Mason,” Jim yelled, failing to look around the room.

 

            “Right here, Mr. Jackson,” I said raising my hand hesitantly.

 

           
Please don’t yell at me. Please don’t yell at me.

 

            Not taking his eyes off Blake, “Looks like our boy, Blake, dropped the ball on the Peterson case. Do you think you could take first chair tomorrow, and get this back on track?”

 

            “Not only that, but I think we can come up with a considerable settlement to have the Petersons living well for quite some time.”

 

            “That’s the confidence I was looking for, Carrington. Blake, you need to take notes from Ms. Mason. You could learn a thing or two from her.”

 

            Watching Jim leave the conference room, Blake eyed me with envy.

 

            “First of all, I think I could’ve handled the situation. I’m not sure why Jim had to bring you into this.”

 

            “I might be wrong, but Jim has a difference of opinion. What can I say Blake, when you’re good, you’re good.”

 

            “What the shit, Carrington?”

 

            “Maybe you should grow some balls. A little ruthlessness never hurt anyone. Be prepared to tack on another
X
to my scoreboard.”

 

            “What are you up to now, fifteen straight wins?” he asked.

 

            “Make that sixteen, sucka. Get your facts straight,” I taunted Blake.

 

              Don’t get me wrong, Blake was a sweet guy, but he had no drive. He was the type of guy who showed up for a paycheck, but didn’t necessarily care about the job.

 

            Trying to lighten the mood, I grabbed a stack of depositions and mimicked a football player making my way across the conference room. Slamming them down, I simulated a touchdown.

 

            “Boom. I’m gonna blow this bitch up, like Troy Aikman in the ninety-three Super Bowl.”

 

            Blake showed me a side of himself I’d never seen, or heard before, “How are you not taken, Carr? You are every man’s wet dream. Hot, smart, and loves football. Will you marry me?”

BOOK: Justified Love (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1)
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