Felony Ever After

by Helena Hunting

  “Phone!” Hudson ordered again, his hand outstretched.

  Joseph fumbled in his pocket and handed it over.

  Hudson stood stone-faced as he fiddled with it. Whatever he saw made his already furious expression darken into a full head of storm clouds.

  “What’s going on?” Angie mumbled as she emerged from car.

  Hudson turned to her, so angry he was trembling.

  “What’s going on, Angie, is that your boyfriend here is a grade A, platinum-plated asshole, who was about to sell your likeness and your vagina to the highest bidder.”

  He held out Joseph’s phone, and on the screen was a picture of a sex doll—a sex doll that looked exactly like Angie.

  Angie’s face fell. “What the hell am I looking at right now?”

  She scrolled through the pictures, and with each one, she looked more and more like she was going to throw up.

  “Joseph?” She was on the verge of tears.

  Hudson grabbed Joseph’s shirt and forced him up against the side of the car. “After everything that went on with Verity, and Lay, and his stupid allegations, I knew someone was stealing from my uncle’s company. I did some digging, and it turns out Joseph here has been moonlighting.”

  Verity and Angie looked at Hudson in confusion. Hudson continued to stare daggers at Joseph. “He took a consulting job with my uncle’s company, helping them develop new technology for the dolls. But then he went rogue.” Hudson turned to Verity. “Remember the first time I met him, he said I looked familiar?” She nodded. “That’s because we were at MIT together. He’s the MIT graduate Lay was talking about.”

  “Oh my God.”

  Hudson turned back to Joseph, who wasn’t denying anything. “Anyway, he seems to have liberated some proprietary information and confidential details provided by HoneyBee clients. He’s been making knock-off dolls using real women as the models—women who never agreed to be mass produced. He stole most of the likenesses, but looks like lately he’d been feeling super creative. You were the next one to be produced, Angie. Your whole profile is in a draft folder on Joseph’s home computer. My friend Daniel is a hacker, and he’s been working all day to find the source of the transactions for knock-off dolls. He just cracked it, and it all leads back to Joey-boy here.”

  Verity glared at Joseph. “So that’s why you kept going down on her? For, what? Research? You piece of—”

  Angie walked over to Joseph, seeming sobered by the information, and gave him a wounded look. “Joe? Is this true?”

  Joseph glanced at Hudson before coming back to Angie. He seemed to decide lying wasn’t an option at this point. Hudson looked like he would break both his legs if he even breathed wrong right now.

  “It’s true. HoneyBee’s dolls are beautiful, and it’s a waste that they’re all just one of a kind. They’re leaving piles of money on the table by not making their best ladies more widely available. So I started making a few more on my own.” He paused to sneer at Hudson. “They’re far from mass produced.”

  “I doubt that will matter a whole lot to the women whose privacy has been violated, jackhole,” Verity snapped. “Angie doesn’t want random copies of herself in anyone’s bedroom at all!”

  Joseph turned to Angie, a pleading look in his eyes. “Men who are into dolls are incredibly fussy, so I knew only the most beautiful women would do. Angie, ever since high school, you’ve been the most beautiful woman I know. It had to be you. Your doll would have made me rich. Well, richer.”

  Angie’s voice wavered as she held back tears. “That’s supposed to make me feel better about being turned into a sex toy? That you think I’m beautiful?”

  Quick as lightning, she grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed her knee into his groin. “Fuck you, Joe.” He grunted and collapsed to his knees as Angie stood over him. “I hope Hudson’s uncle sues you down to your last dollar, you pathetic piece of crap.”

  Joseph fell to his side and groaned.

  “Oh, have no fear, he’s ruined,” Hudson said. “He’s in breach of so many patents and copyrights, it’s not even funny. My uncle’s lawyers are going to have a field day.”

  Hudson put his arm around Angie and helped her back into the car. As he walked around to open the door for Verity, he called over to Joseph:

  “Just FYI, douchebag, I’m keeping your phone. See you in court.”

  With that, he climbed into the car, and they screamed away, leaving Joseph clutching his ruined balls.

  ***

  Verity took one last look at Angie asleep in her bed before pulling her bedroom door closed. She turned to where Hudson leaned against her kitchen counter, sipping coffee.

  “She okay?” he asked.

  Verity nodded. “In a way, she’s relieved. She knew something wasn’t right about him, and now she knows the truth. What I didn’t tell her is that I saw Joseph having his dick sucked earlier by the bartender at the Library Bar.”

  Hudson’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously? The blonde with the triple-D implants?”

  Verity grimaced. “Yup.”

  Hudson put his coffee down on the counter. “Oh, shit. Well, maybe it’s best she doesn’t find out about that.”

  “Agreed.”

  Hudson wrapped Verity in his arms. She sighed and leaned into his chest. “This has been quite a week,” he said. “But the mystery of the knock-off sex dolls has been solved. We should be proud. We laid rubber Verity to rest, saved women from being exploited, recovered my uncle’s reputation, and created enough work to keep his lawyers busy for years.”

  “Yes, if those were paid positions, I’d consider myself gainfully employed,” Verity said with a laugh. “Although you did most of the work.”

  “Everyone needs a sidekick,” Hudson said, his eyes twinkling. “So, what did you do today apart from miss me?”

  Verity closed her eyes. “Oh, you know. Had deep philosophical discussions with your cats, scavenged through your drawers and fell in love with you via your hidden Star Wars obsession, looked all over the internet for jobs that don’t exist. The usual.”

  Hudson chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Really? It was the 1970s nerd paraphernalia that finally tipped the balance in my favor? Sounds like a full day. One question: Did you leave the panties where they were? Or do I have to go on an underwear rampage before I leave this apartment?”

  Verity looked up at him. “No, my panties now have an exciting new home with your Star Wars buddies; all my undies should be so lucky.”

  Hudson smiled. “Excellent.” He kissed her gently, then pulled back and stared down at her. “So, do you need to stay here with your friend? Or can I convince you to come back to my place for a night of fun and orgasms?”

  Verity extricated herself from Hudson’s arms. “I should really stay. I don’t want Angie to think I’ve abandoned her in her hour of need. But you know, my couch is also a sofabed. You could stay here.”

  Hudson frowned. “Hmmm. Sleeping on a lumpy sofabed with you, or snuggling into my king-sized bed alone. Tough choice. I’d like to phone a friend.”

  She rolled her eyes, and Hudson smiled as he picked up a folder from her coffee table. He pulled out the collection of photos and flicked through them. “What’s this?”

  “Oh, the photography part of my resume, I guess. I dragged everything out for the job search today.” Verity nodded. “Not sure there’s anything in there that says pay me a living wage, though, right?” Hudson didn’t answer. He just stared at her pictures.

  “I’m not kidding when I say there are no jobs I’m even remotely qualified for in the greater New York area.” Still nothing. “So I’m looking at starting an exciting new career in the adult film industry.” She paused. “I mean, I know I’ll have to figure out which is the best side of my vagina and all, so they can light it appropriately, but being able to write off Brazilians as a tax deduction? Worth it.”

  “Uh-huh.” Hudson now studied one picture in particular.

  “Yep,” Verity said. “Ca
n’t wait to get me some professional cock. All day, every day. Nomnomnom.”

  At that, Hudson looked up. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  Verity smiled. “Nothing. Just lamenting my lack of job prospects.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, holding up the pictures. “Here’s your job. This. Verity Michaels: professional photographer.”

  Verity raised an eyebrow. “Really? I couldn’t make that work in Florida, but you think New York is dying for me?”

  He gave her an incredulous look. “I know they’re dying for you, Country Girl. And I’d be happy to help them realize it. These are amazing. You know, my clients are sometimes looking for tattoo inspiration,” he said, dropping his voice to top-secret level. “Not to mention some arty shots of their latest work. I know that’s among your skills…”

  He trailed off meaningfully, and Verity’s mouth hung open. She could feel a happy dance starting in her toes.

  “Get your portfolio together—in something other than a folder on your coffee table—and there’ll be no stopping you,” Hudson added. “You’re really fucking talented, and I’m not just saying that because I don’t want you to become the biggest female star the adult film industry has ever known.”

  “I thought you weren’t listening.”

  “Please. You were talking about fucking other men. I was about three seconds away from tattooing my name on your ass so everyone knows you’re mine.”

  He pulled her into his side and gestured to the pictures. “Speaking of tattoos, can I steal some of these? I know people with money to spend who would go batshit crazy if I converted these images into tats.”

  Verity rested her head on his chest and breathed in his incredible scent. “Of course. You can be my first client. Take whatever you want.”

  Without warning, Hudson scooped her up into his arms. She squealed and gripped his shoulders. “Hudson! What the—?”

  He pressed his lips softly against hers. “You told me to take whatever I wanted. Well, newsflash: what I want is you.” He turned to look at the couch. “Now, on a scale of one to screaming-my-name, exactly how much noise can we make out here without waking Angie?”

  Verity laughed as Hudson threw her on the couch and proceeded to kiss the hell out of her as he removed her clothes. Needless to say, the next day, Verity had one of the happiest vaginas on the planet.

  Hudson Fenn @tatwhiteknight

  Believing in her is the easiest thing in the world. #GreatRackToo

  Verity Michaels @VerityPictures03

  My special tatted white knight. You make dreaming that much easier. #GiantDickToo

  Verity Michaels @VerityPictures03

  We are going to make our followers gag with the sweet talk. #ThatGivesMeAnIdea

  Hudson Fenn @tatwhiteknight

  Well now you gave me and my giant dick that idea. Come closer. #ComeAgain

  Epilogue

  Out on Parole

  Belle Aurora

  One month later, a knock on Verity’s apartment door sounded just after eight p.m. She approached with caution and checked the peephole.

  The wide, dimpled grin on the other side of it had her returning it full force.

  She threw the door open, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry. We don’t want any,” then moved to close it in his face.

  “Hey,” Hudson used his shoulder to push his way in. “Is that what I get for bringing you pizza?”

  The smell hit her like a wave. Cheese, basil, rich tomato sauce, and Hudson had her salivating. Did I eat today?

  “Mmmm,” Verity hummed. “I’m shocked to see you at the door. Can’t hack getting a pizza through the window?”

  Hudson placed the box on the kitchen counter and stalked over to her. “Mmmm,” he purred in response. “Shush your pretty mouth.”

  Verity had a feeling the pizza wasn’t as heavy on his mind as it was hers. She confirmed this when he gripped her hips lightly, moving her back until she was trapped against the refrigerator. His warm lips brushed hers, and she felt her body respond.

  In an instant, Verity was ready. As in, Betty-Crocker-Super-Moist-cake ready.

  Her eyes closed, and she deepened the kiss, standing on her tiptoes and twining her arms around his neck just to feel him. When they separated, his eyes were hooded with lust, just as her own likely were.

  “Wow,” Hudson drawled.

  Her arms still around his neck, she told him her news. “I got two more clients today.”

  It seemed to take him a second to process what she’d said. When it sunk in, his brows rose. “You did? Make that three, because I’ve got someone interested in one of your images.”

  Hudson’s smile was beautiful. Her victories were his victories. She loved that about them. Without warning, he dipped low and lifted her. Verity had no choice but to hold on. She squeaked then snorted. “What are you doing?”

  He rushed them to the bedroom. “Celebrating.”

  They celebrated long and hard into the night, though she did manage to talk him into a pizza break. Verity couldn’t remember sex ever feeling this way before, the way it did with Hudson. Perhaps that was because with Hudson, it was more.

  As the celebration wound down, Verity and Hudson lay in bed, watching each other in the moonlight. Hudson took Verity’s hand, pulled it close and kissed her knuckles, whisper soft. “What are you thinking, Honeybee?”

  “I’m going to have to move. I’m not going to be able to afford this place on a freelance photographer’s salary—at least not right away,” Verity pondered out loud. “I shouldn’t blow through all of my severance cash.” Then she grinned. “So you want to help me search for a new place? Or I might have to get a roommate.”

  Hudson smiled, slow and sly. “I could help you search,” he began. “Or you could just come live with me.”

  Verity’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh yeah?” she breathed.

  He kissed her knuckles again, his mouth lingering. She felt his cool grin on her skin. “Yeah. But just as roomies, like you said. You know, two people who live together and have great sex. That sort of thing.”

  Verity’s brows rose and she laughed. “Two people who live together and have sex—”

  “Great sex,” he corrected.

  “Right. And go on dates. That sort of thing.”

  Hudson nodded, a look of mock relief coming over him. “Exactly. You get it.” He ran his thumb over her lips. “Just two people who live together and have sex and go on dates.” His voice turned quiet. “And who sleep in the same room.” He leaned over to kiss her smiling mouth. “And have fun together.” His lips moved from her mouth to her cheek to her jaw. “And make a life together.

  Verity’s smile stretched so far she thought her face would split.

  Hudson looked into Verity’s eyes and shot her those dimples. “You moving in with me, Honeybee?”

  How could she resist?

  “Yeah, Tattoo,” she responded. “I think I will.”

  Verity Michaels @VerityPics03

  #MaybeFelonsArentSoBad #DreamsCanComeTrue #MovingInwithMyMan

  Hudson Fenn @tatwhiteknight

  #VerityAndHudsonForever #HoneybeeAndTattoo #NOHO

  Verity Michaels @VerityPics03

  #HappilyEverAfterWithAFelon

  #TheEnd

  Follow Verity on Twitter: https://twitter.com/VerityPics03

  Follow Hudson on Twitter: https://twitter.com/tatwhiteknight

  Visit SalesExportt.com for more book fun and see the trailer!

  About the Author

  Helena Hunting

  NYT and USA Today bestselling author of The Pucked Series, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She's writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

  SAVE THE DATE: MARCH 29th Alex and Violet tie the knot… but not on a cape, Violet’s learned her lesson—Velcro only this time.

  Forever Pucked

&n
bsp; Being engaged to Alex Waters, team captain and the highest paid NHL player in the league, is awesome. How could it not be?

  In addition to being an amazing hockey player, he’s an incurable romantic with an XL heart, and an XXL hockey stick in his pants. And he knows how to use it. Incredibly, orgasmically well. Alex is the whole package and more. Literally. Like his package is insane. Total world record holder material.

  So it makes complete sense that Violet Hall can’t wait to nail him down to the matrimonial mattress and become Mrs. Violet Waters.

  It’s so romantic.

  Violet is totally stoked to set a date.

  Eventually. At some point. Likely before the next millennium. Or when Violet stops getting hives every time someone brings up the wedding, and their mothers stop colluding on stadium sized venues. Whichever comes first.

  FOREVER PUCKED EXCERPT

  Charlene, my best friend and colleague at Stroker and Cobb Financial Management, peeks her head into my cubicle. She looks disembodied with the way the rest of her is out of sight. She’s also smiling like she belongs in some kind of asylum.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “You have a delivery.”

  “What kind of delivery?”

  Alex likes to send me gifts at work. Once he had some guy dressed as a beaver sing a love song to me. It was mortifying. Jimmy, one of the other junior accountants, recorded it and posted it on YouTube. Obviously I made him take it down, but it had already gone viral.

  “An Alex delivery.”

  I brace myself for humiliation as she grunts, moving my gift into view.

  I don’t say anything for a few long seconds. Alex is over the top with everything. But then, when you’re the highest-paid NHL player in the league, you can afford to be extravagant and highly ridiculous.