Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
But that was not why he was there. He also shouldn’t blow his cover. He didn’t need Cassie telling Lange that someone was looking for him in Manning Grove. That would screw his chance at that twenty percent.
Though, suddenly it was no longer about the money.
And the reason it wasn’t was because she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring.
Not just that, but because there was no mark where a ring would be.
It hadn’t been taken off recently.
It had been gone for a while.
It had taken some time before any sign of his own wedding band had disappeared. The ring he’d been forced to wear even though he hated most jewelry. He’d only worn it to keep the peace.
But that ring had left a mark.
In more ways than one.
“Why are you here, then?”
“To get to know you.” That wasn’t a lie.
“I’m not interested.”
He tilted his head and let his gaze run over her from the top of her blonde head to her booted toe. “Kinda gettin’ that.”
“Then you can be a gentleman and respect that.”
One side of his mouth curled up and he stroked his beard. “Oh, baby, I’m no fuckin’ gentleman.”
A flush rose into her cheeks and her mouth flattened. “Call me if you need me.” She turned her head and began to head back to the bar again.
“Cassie,” he called out, making her freeze once more. This time she didn’t look back.
He rose from his chair, pulled a wrinkled ten from his front pocket and approached her.
When he stepped behind her—not touching, but close enough to feel each other’s heat—her spine snapped straight. He leaned down and put his mouth near her ear, murmuring, “Said call you if I need you.” He tucked the ten into a pocket of the little black apron wrapped around her waist.
It wasn’t hard to miss the goosebumps breaking out over her arms and the slight shiver.
She wasn’t afraid of him.
Fuck no.
Her reaction had nothing to do with fear.
Judge’s half-grin widened into a full one when she jolted as if jump-started and rushed back behind the bar to escape that heat.
As he moved toward the door, she was saying something to Dodge, who was doing his best to keep a straight face. But the prospect’s eyes hit Judge’s across the room and Judge jerked his chin up at him.
Then he walked outside to cool the fuck off.
Judge ignored the whimpers coming from the doorway. Jury and Justice would just have to wait for breakfast. He had something important to finish first.
He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, ignoring the noisy dogs, and listened to the squish his generously lubed Fleshlight made as he slid it up and down his throbbing cock.
If he couldn’t have pussy, it was the next best thing. Sometimes even better, since when he was done, he could put it away and not be nagged.
But this morning he was picturing Cassie. Her long, blonde hair being flung around as she called his name and rode him hard and fast.
Her pussy soaked and squeezing him tight.
Her big tits bouncing and her own fingers playing with her rock-hard nipples.
Her thick thighs squeezing his hips.
Her head thrown back and her breath puffing from between her parted lips, which were swollen from her sucking his dick and then him kissing her until she begged him to fuck her.
No begging was needed.
As one hand guided his Fleshlight, the other cupped his balls, squeezing and tugging. Kneading. Feeling the slight scrape of her nails over the delicate flesh, which was still damp from her mouth earlier.
Fuck yeah.
He was determined to make the fantasy a reality, especially if the no wedding ring meant no more marriage.
That meant Cassie was free.
And if she was...
He pictured her at Crazy Pete’s last night in the snug jeans and fitted V-neck top that showed off her generous cleavage and hugged every one of her damn curves.
Every fucking one.
He wanted to suck those nipples which had become visible through the thin fabric after he whispered in her ear.
He pursed his lips as he relived her rushing away from him.
Those hips. That ass.
The natural sway of them as she escaped him.
How every man in that bar wasn’t on his hands and knees following her like the Pied fucking Piper…?
But he was relieved they weren’t.
Because if the husband was out of the picture, Cassie was his. She just didn’t know it yet.
But she would. Soon enough.
Yeah, he wanted info from her about Lange. But while he worked on that, he’d work on her.
He blew out a breath and drove his dick deep into the slick hole. Rolling over, he pinned the Fleshlight between him and the mattress, imagining he’d bent Cassie over one of the tables and she wore a short skirt where it showed off her bare thighs and her ass when he shoved it up.