For fuck’s sake. He forgot.
He spun on his boot and blocked her view. “Wanna hit the head first?”
Her brow furrowed. “Uh, sure.”
“Door on the left there.”
She gave him a look, nodded and then went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
He rushed to the nightstand, grabbed the Fleshlight and hurried to the closet. He shoved into the far corner, keeping it upright so the last load he dumped in it—and forgot to clean out—wouldn’t spill.
He quietly closed the closet door, went back to the nightstand, swiped the lube off the top and tucked it in the back of the drawer before pulling out the box of wraps.
He heard the toilet flush, the water run, and the door open.
He turned and waited.
And he lost his goddamn breath when she stepped through his bedroom door. She hesitated, her eyes going from him to the bed and back.
He glanced over his shoulder to check his sheets to make sure there wasn’t anything stained on them and they were half-decently clean. The bed wasn’t made but she was just going to have to live with that.
Jury pushed past Cassie and took a flying leap onto the bed. She was claiming her spot before they did.
“Jury, off,” he growled and pointed to her dog bed in the corner. The only time he forced her to sleep there was when he had a visitor.
Jury gave him a you-suck look, jumped off and curled up in the expensive bed he bought her that she spent, at most, an hour of her time in whenever a sweet butt was up in his apartment.
Tonight, if it was up to Judge, she would spend more time than an hour in that bed. Because Cassie would be in his for much longer.
Cassie was no fucking sweet butt. There would be no kicking her ass out as soon as he shot his load.
“Just gonna stand there?” he asked.
“Are you?” she countered. He could see the shake in her hand as she brushed the hair out of her face.
Yeah, she was fucking nervous. She wasn’t sure what to expect from him or how this would go.
Or maybe she was second-guessing her decision to stay.
If she was, he needed to make sure she had no reason to bolt. The only direction she should be taking is toward him, not toward the front door.
He couldn’t wait for her to change her mind.
So, he didn’t.
He took a couple of long strides to where she stood, her eyes glued to him as he approached, never stopping as his body knocked into hers, his arms grabbing her so she wouldn’t lose her balance. The air rushed from her and her blue eyes lifted to his in surprise.
Then something changed, surprising him instead.
She grabbed the fabric of his thermal at his chest with both fists, pulled him in a circle and shoved him against the wall. With one hand, she grabbed his beard and yanked it so hard he had no choice but to lower his head. Then she took his mouth.
She took his mouth.
This woman was not having second thoughts.
This time he let her tongue take control of his mouth. He let her have all the control. And he was kind of liking it.
As she tried to climb him, he hooked his arms under her ass and lifted her enough to where she could wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, not once breaking their kiss.
He spun her around and shoved her back against the wall, pinning her there. With one arm he kept her up, the other he shoved between them, doing his best to free the buttons on her blouse.
But he was getting impatient and was afraid he was just going to rip it open, popping all of her buttons and ruining it.
Then she’d have to go home wearing one of his shirts. He’d grin at that if Cassie wasn’t currently creating havoc on his mouth.
He thrust his hard dick against the heat between her thighs.
Fuck, he wanted to be inside her.
But he was liking what she was giving him. If she wanted to drive right now, he’d let her. Without complaint.
A few seconds later, she released his mouth, panting against his lips as she stared at him. Again, surprise in her eyes.
Yeah, she wanted his dick. She wanted him. She hadn’t expected to want him like that.
“You done bein’ a little Domme?”
Chapter Ten
She pressed fingers to her lips. “I’m not a Domme.”
“Coulda fooled me,” he teased.
She removed her arms from around his thick neck and planted both palms against his chest, feeling his quick heartbeat along with the rise and fall of his rapid breathing.
“I don’t know what came over me. Why...”
His cocky grin made her want to take his lips again.
“’Cause you want my dick.” He thrust his hips again and his erection pressed against where she was not only slick, but throbbing.
She couldn’t deny she wanted his “dick,” so she pressed her face against his neck, hiding behind the long beard, ground hard against him, and muffled her groan into his skin.
“Damn,” he whispered.
Yes, damn.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so turned on like this. Wanting to rip a man’s clothes off, demand he do things to her.
“I need you naked,” she whispered.
“Think that was my line,” he whispered back.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
He adjusted his grip on her thighs, holding on tighter, and pulled away from the wall, turning them and striding across the room. He didn’t stop when he hit the edge of the mattress. Instead, he held on to her as they both fell, making her gasp.
Somehow, he managed not to crush her under his weight, but it pinned her to the bed, his erection, hard and hot against her thigh.
She pointed out the obvious. “We’re still not naked.”
“Good observation.”
She pressed her lips together and he rolled off her to sit on the edge of the bed, unlacing his boots. Within seconds, he had both pulled off, his socks went flying, then he shot to his feet and tugged his thermal over his head, messing up his beard.
He drew a hand through it a couple of times, smoothing it back down.
While he did that, Cassie stared at his chest. There was no way she couldn’t.
It wasn’t because of how huge it was, because it was. It wasn’t because of how muscular it was, because it was.
But because of the number of tattoos covering his skin.
They went up both arms, over his pecs and shoulders, down his ribs, across his lower belly and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans.
She sat up, taking them all in. Wanting to ask so many questions about them, starting with the meaning of each one.
But Judge didn’t appear to want to discuss his ink right now. No, he was unbuckling his belt and unfastening his jeans at a rapid pace.
She began to unbutton her shirt where he’d left off and he made a sharp but deep noise that made her fingers still mid-motion.
“Sit right there ‘til I’m done.” It wasn’t a suggestion, but a growled demand.
And he called her a Domme.
She didn’t know much about BDSM. Probably just as much as she knew about tattoos.
Which was basically nothing.
She’d never dabbled in the Dominant/submissive lifestyle, or any kind of kink, and she’d never been with anyone who had tattoos. Not even a small one.
However, Judge’s tattoos were not surprising, not with what she knew about his lifestyle. Every biker she met who belonged to the Fury had quite a few, including Stella. Her boss had a full sleeve and a huge tree of life piece on her back, which she had shown Cassie in the back room one night when she asked about it.