He’s so arrogant.
She’s so self-righteous.
I can’t stand him.
I want her.
He’s a distraction I don’t need.
She’ll say yes eventually because I’m not giving up.
Justine Porter is stuck between a rock and a stripper pole. She lost her law school scholarship, which means she has two choices to keep her life on track: strip for her tuition or tutor the most distractingly sexy guy in her class—the one she’s been turning down for two years straight. It should be an easy choice, but tutoring Ryker Grant could derail her plans to graduate with honors faster than two-for-one night at the Déjà Vu. Then again, topless has never really been her color.
She could take the easy road, just this once . . . but the deal has enough loopholes to trip anyone up.
Who knew they taught bad judgment in law school?
“I’ve got some things I need to say to you, and you’re going to let me.”
Her brown eyes snap up to mine, surprise clear in them. “Why should I?”
“Because you’re nothing if not curious, and you want to know what I have to say.”
She steps backward, and I let my fingertips trail across her skin before they drop away. Justine adjusts the straps of her backpack on her shoulders and tucks Chewbacca into a side pocket.
“You know you want to hear the rare sound of me apologizing, don’t you?”
Justine purses her lips, and all I can think about is the dreams I had all weekend of her staring down at me from a stage while she danced and stripped. My own private show. I’m not going to admit how many times I jacked off to the mental picture. I need the real thing, and I won’t have another shot if she won’t even give me a chance to talk to her.
I don’t know what changes her mind, but she relaxes her posture and relents. “Fine. You’ve got five minutes. This better be good.”
It’s not much, but I’ll take it. I lead the way out of the classroom, slipping out the side door I used to make my unobtrusive entrance. Or at least, it was unobtrusive until I decided to share my strike-out history with the entire class at Professor Turner’s invitation.
Glancing behind me, I’m marginally surprised to see Justine actually following. I head for the third-floor doors to the library, where the private rooms are. This conversation isn’t for public consumption.
The first private room on the right is empty, so I push the door open. Justine trails me inside, and I shrug off my backpack and drop it on one of the four chairs.
She closes the door behind her and leans against it, her arms crossed over her chest. I’m guessing she wouldn’t stand that way if she realized how it draws attention to her chest. I force my eyes back to her face. I’m not about to fuck this up.
“Wow, you must really plan on groveling if you need privacy,” she says, an eyebrow raised in challenge.
“Maybe I just wanted to get you alone.”
She rolls her eyes. “And I’m already getting bored.”
“You love to bust my balls, don’t you?”
“I don’t really like to think about your balls, if you want to know the truth.”
I try on my charming smile, the one that has dropped panties for years. “I’m calling bullshit on that. You’ve thought about me at least once.”
She pushes off the door and turns halfway to reach for the handle. “And if that’s all you wanted to say, then I think we’re done here.”
I’m shocked when she listens.
Justine rubs her hands over her face, her every move revealing her frustration. “You ask me out for two years, practically blackmail me into a kiss, then you blow me off completely, and now you’re all up in my business again. What the hell do you want from me?”
Her confusion punches me in the gut, making me wish I could tell her why I wasn’t there the morning I promised to help her move. It wasn’t for any reason she thinks.
I stride toward her, pressing one palm against the door beside her head. “I’m not blowing you off, and I haven’t stopped thinking about that night.”
I can’t give her the explanation she wants, so I try something different.
Lowering my head, I catch the next words out of her mouth on my lips. They’re just as soft as I remember, and I drop my other hand to her hip, drawing her against me. Her fingers curl into the fabric of my T-shirt, almost reluctantly, but she’s not pushing me away.
I take her mouth, my tongue diving between her lips to taste her again—finally, but the pulsing of my dick against the zipper of my jeans forces me to back off. If I don’t, I’ll be laying her out on the table behind us, and that’s not what this is about. At least, not all of what this is about.
With her face flushed and her hair messy from my fingers, Justine shutters her expression. She’s rebuilding her walls brick by brick.
That’s not going to work for me.
“What’s it going to take, Justine?” I remember asking her the same question at the bar.
Her dark eyes fill with confusion. “What’s what going to take?” The words come out defensively.
“With you. To get a second chance. I fucked up once, but doesn’t everyone deserve another shot?”
Bad Judgment is an impressively unique and stunningly original masterpiece. This incredible story will drag you down the rabbit hole and make you want to burrow deeper with every second it has a hold on you. There is nothing you won’t do to discover all of its mystery and unearth all of its secrets. It will consume you whole and extract every drop of emotion and humanity from you. What will surprise you the most is that you won’t think twice about walking this powerful journey. You will beg for so much more. The terrifying freedom and the dark unknown that you will experience will make you run toward it and not away. The heart found within these pages will draw you to itself like a helpless, curious moth to the flame. Don’t fight it; instead welcome the warmth and the wholeness it offers.
Justine is clawing in desperation to obtain her greatest dream: become a lawyer. When her dream is finally within her grasp, it is callously ripped away leaving her feeling afloat in a sea of disappointment and pain. When her only means of regaining her dreams involves two very unsavory evils, she knows she has to make a choice no matter how much she may regret it. Choosing the lesser of the two evils, she decides that she will tutor Ryker Grant who just can’t seem to figure out that she wants nothing to do with him beyond staying in law school. Ryker can’t believe his luck when the object of his obsession is now helping him study and regain his course towards graduation. He doesn’t question his luck, but decides to see how far he can bend their rules and get a taste of what he has been dying for the last two years. When unexpected events entwine these two together, will they break from the sheer force of the impact, or will they find out that bad judgment may lead to the greatest rewards in the end?
While I am well aware of the astounding characters that Meghan March can bring to life, I can’t say that I was entirely prepared for Justine and Ryker. They made me feel the most raw and honest emotions that I have ever felt from any of her books. They felt so down to earth, and that made me love them so desperately and unconditionally. Watching these two navigate through the treacherous waters of love and lies, I was clinging to the hope that once they saw the real person behind the mask that it would give them even more to fight for. What I found was a brilliantly crafted, romantic mystery with more twists and turns to keep even the pickiest reader engaged and captivated.
I love that Meghan March has chosen to venture into unchartered waters with this book. She has thrown off the comfort of the known and waded into the dark terrain of the depths of her heart to bring us a rare treasure that will challenge and delight both her devoted followers as well as new readers who are thirsting for something new and different. Do not pass this book up because it is not the usual wonderful offering of March, but instead embrace it for the rare beauty and exquisite sophistication that only Meghan can give us.
Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at firstname.lastname@example.org.