Sexy Lies and Rock & Roll Read Online Free PDF Page A

didn’t,” I snap at her, her rigid adherence to the law and fundamental principles of representation pissing me the fuck off.
    “If you say so,” she says, smoothing her fingers along the top bound edge of the yellow pad without meeting my gaze.
    “Get out,” I say in a low voice, which rumbles with barely contained fury.
    Her eyes snap up, round with surprise. “Excuse me?”
    “Get. Out,” I repeat each word succinctly.
    “But I’m your attorney—”
    “No, you are not,” I cut her off. “Now get the fuck out and send Midge over, or hell… send anyone else in your firm. I’d be happy with the janitor, but you are not representing me.”
    “I don’t understand,” she says. For the first time since she walked in that door, gone is the cool, collected voice of a professional. Instead, she sounds hesitant… almost childlike.
    I lean forward across the table, clasp my hands together, and rest my elbows there. I gain a little measure of control now that I see her knocked off her pedestal a bit, and then I proceed to enlighten her about everything I find to be egregiously wrong with her as an attorney.
    “I have no clue why you decided to become a criminal defense attorney, but I can assure you, in the five minutes since I’ve met you, you don’t have what it takes. You certainly don’t have what it takes to be working in a firm like Knight & Payne, who employs only the brightest, most passionate lawyers in this state. Now, you may be intelligent, but you don’t have an ounce of fucking compassion in your prim little body. An attorney should have understanding and empathy, particularly when their client stands wrongfully accused of one of the most heinous acts there are, and you can’t even fucking meet my eyes when I’m telling you I’m innocent? So, I’ll say this one more time… Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
    I’m generally an easy-going kind of dude. It takes a lot to get me mad, but right now, I’m so furious I’m afraid I might stroke out. The only thing that I think will ease my distress is if I can make this girl cry. I need her to feel bad so I feel good, which is fucked up for sure, and—
    Hey… that would actually be a great song lyric.
    I commit it to memory.
    I need her to feel bad so I feel good.
    “Mr. Scott,” the goody-goody woman on the other side of the table snaps at me with narrowed eyes. “I would ask that you treat me with a little more respect and not cuss at me as I’m the only one who can help you—”
    I smirk at her at her prissy little attitude. “Fuck. Off.”
    And wow… her brown eyes darken so deeply, they appear to be black. “I had no idea what a conceited, egotistical jerk you are—”
    “Better than a prissy, straight-laced wanna-be lawyer—”
    She screeches as she shoots out of the chair and stands there glaring at me with her tiny hands curled into fists. “You asshole.”
    I’m fascinated by the transformation. Gone is the prim, cool professional who, while extremely pretty, was about as appealing as a piece of dry toast. Instead, I find myself looking at a woman just brimming with fiery passion. Her sleek hair that she has tucked behind her ears has fallen loose and frames her face. Cheeks are tinged bright pink and her chest is rising and falling deeply.
    And those eyes… now still dark as sin but I swear I can see flames dancing in them.
    She’s magnificent, and it makes me wonder what else she’s hiding under that little shell of goody-two-shoes armor she wears. And for some fucking weird reason, I like the fact I’m the one who’s got her panties in a twist.
    “Sweetheart,” I murmur, more with condescension than any endearment, but my mouth snaps shut when she grabs her yellow pad from the desk. I had intended to try to rile her up some more, just to see how fired up I could get her, but I’m stunned when she leans over, grabs her briefcase, and shoves the pad inside.
    “I don’t need a job at Knight & Payne,” she mutters. “No