Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Fuck. I hate you!”
“But you want me all the same.” I draw back a little, testing her with the head of my cock at her entrance. I watch her face, her eyes.
“Judge,” she says.
“Lawson,” I correct.
“Lawson,” she breathes, and I push into her. “Oh. My. God.”
“Fuck, Mercedes.”
She is so slick and so tight I’m not going to last long. I intertwine my fingers with hers while moving inside, kissing her, not caring if she bites. Needing it too much.
She opens to me, taking my tongue in her mouth while my cock is in her pussy.
I shift my grip again, the fingers of one hand weaving into her hair, adjusting her hips with the other so I can get deeper inside her. She arches her back, her fingernails digging into my shoulders as she sucks on my tongue and comes so hard her throbbing walls milk me, and I almost don’t pull out in time.
Because fuck. It’s so fucking hard.
I want to come inside her so fucking bad that it takes all I have to finally pull out of her wet heat and trap my throbbing cock between us at the very last moment and come all over her.
8
Mercedes
My experience may be pretty limited, but somehow, I don’t believe the fire I have with Judge is something everyone has when it comes to sexual tension. When we come together, it’s like fireworks. He lights the fuse, and I explode. But much like I suspected, just as soon as he’s finished, he turns it off like a switch. His face returns to a neutral expression, and he dismisses me by telling me to go to bed.
I hate that about him. Even worse, I hate that I can’t read him. There’s no way for me to tell if he’s dismissing me because he got what he wanted or he’s trying to protect himself from feeling anything. I want to believe that might be the case, but I also don’t want to be a fool.
My bed feels emptier without him, and I’m not surprised when he doesn’t join me. I don’t expect to see him in the morning either, as it’s typical for him to run off and put distance between us. So when he comes into my room with a scowl on his face, I arch an eyebrow at him in question.
“Can I help you?”
Irritation flickers across his features, and if I didn’t know any better, it looks like I’m giving him a headache without even trying. That’s about the time I notice he doesn’t look rested at all. In fact, he looks fucking exhausted.
“Did you even sleep?” I ask.
Before he can answer the question, Lois and Miriam appear behind him and then shuffle into my room with boxes in hand.
“What’s going on?” Dread trickles down my spine as they disappear into my closet.
“You’re moving into my room,” Judge grunts in answer.
“What?”
He doesn’t look at all happy about this development, and it makes no sense.
“It’s temporary,” he assures me, but even he doesn’t look convinced of that.
“I don’t understand.” My eyes move over his face. “Has something happened?”
He sighs and then checks his watch. “Get dressed. I’m taking you out for the day.”
His avoidance of my question only irritates me more. “Is Santi okay?”
“Yes.” His eyes soften at the concern in my voice.
“And Ivy?”
“The same,” he says quietly.
I nod and get up, too tired to argue and not entirely sure I even want to know the reason behind the tension in his eyes. Things have only just begun to settle down, and I’m not certain I can handle anything else right now.
“Don’t you have to work today?” I wander into my closet and start rifling through a section of dresses where Lois and Miriam aren’t packing.
“I took the day off,” Judge says from behind me. “Wear leggings.”
I find it an odd request and wonder if it’s a personal preference or if there’s a reason behind it. But when I arch an eyebrow at him over my shoulder, all I receive in answer is a stony expression. The old me would have worn a dress just to be difficult, but I find that I don’t feel like arguing with Judge today. So I grab a pair of leggings and an oversized tee shirt and go into the bathroom to change.
When I exit, he’s waiting for me by the door to my bedroom, staring at what I know is my phone. By the renewed tension in his shoulders, I imagine he’s seen something he doesn’t like, but I can’t think of what it might be. Other than the texts from Georgie, of course.
“Everything okay?” I ask, and he shoves it into his pocket, jerking his chin at me.
“Let’s go.”
As we climb into the Rolls Royce, it doesn’t escape my notice that a guard from IVI sits in the front seat beside Raul. If that wasn’t strange enough, another car waits behind us with three more.