by Krane, Kasey
It seemed to be getting harder by the moment to keep that mantra in mind.
Harder…oh, there are parts of him that get harder and are oh so lovely to play with.
My eyes snapped to his when I realized that I had been openly ogling said parts, and that he’d caught me. Again...
“How does a veggie omelet sound?” he asked, smirking. Bastard wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he’d caught me.
“Sure!” I said, overly cheerful at the prospect of something, anything to do with my hands and eyes that did not involve Judge’s body.
“You still like sugar and creamer in your coffee?” Judge asked, rummaging around in the cupboards for the sugar bowl.
“No, I’ve slowly taught myself to drink it black, actually. Less carbs and a lot easier to find when you’re in a different country. Not every culture believes that you should dilute your coffee to the point of making it unidentifiable, so I found that if I couldn’t handle drinking it black, I just didn’t get to drink it.”
He handed me a steaming mug. “Well, it makes it easier, that’s for sure,” he said with a grin. “I was sure we were going to have to go for a grocery run this morning to buy some fancy froufrou shit for you.”
I laughed. “Only you would use the term ‘froufrou’ and ‘shit’ in the same sentence,” I commented drily.
“The benefits of being raised in a froufrou household and then ending up in a motorcycle club,” he said with a laugh, looking up from the chopping board.
I offered to help him prep something and he put me to work chopping up the mushrooms. After assembling all of the ingredients, Judge began to stir-fry them. “Take a seat and relax,” he said, gesturing to the swing-out seats on the other side of the island he was working at.
I sat down, sipping my coffee and enjoying watching him hard at work. It was a real treat to watch someone else cook a meal. At Santa Maria’s, I had helped with the preparation of almost every meal as a part of my duties there. It’d been a small staff and everyone pitched in on all daily tasks. Just sitting there, watching seemed luxurious.
Especially the part where I got my fill of simply drinking in Judge’s presence, seeing the small changes that’d happened since high school; his hair was much longer now that he wasn’t under the strict control of his father and it curled at the nape of his neck in blond waves that made me want to run my fingers through it.
And oh fuck, his body. He’d been tall, lanky, and damn cute in high school, but here was the body of a man, not a boy. His muscles rippled under his skin as he moved around the kitchen and I silently thanked God that he hadn’t bothered putting on a shirt yet. It would be a tragedy, really, to be denied this sight.
When he placed my omelet in front of me, stuffed to the brim with peppers, onion, garlic, and mushrooms, I decided that this was the tragedy of the day - to have been denied Judge’s cooking all of my life.
“Oh my God,” I exclaimed around a mouthful of food, ignoring manners for the moment that dictated that I actually swallow my food before talking, in favor of giving an enthusiastic review. “This is wonderful. Did you go to culinary school and forget to tell me?”
He sat down next to me in the other swinging chair and pulled up against the counter built into the island, digging into his own breakfast. The man always could eat.
“No, I just really like eggs for breakfast. I’ve experimented a lot over the years.” He shrugged. “Eggs are high protein and quick to cook, so they’re my go-to breakfast.”
We chatted as we ate and after the wonderful, filling breakfast and a whole lot of coffee, I felt ready to take on the world.
Except, I really had no idea what to do. My life usually included some kind of purpose - either I was at a school and thus preparing lessons or grading papers, or I was on vacation and out doing something every day. Hiking, kayaking, biking, swimming…it was hard to remember the last time that I literally had nothing to do. It was so…weird.
After we rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher, I turned and stared at Judge. “So, like, what are you thinking we do today?” No agenda, no to-do list…it was a strangely scary being that free.
“Well yesterday, I took all of those nails out of the boards from that old barn that I helped pull down, and was planning on using them in the guest bathroom upstairs. If you want to help me carry the boards from the garage and get them up the stairs, that alone would be huge.”
“Sure, that’d be fine,” I said cheerfully. It really did sound like fun, in a DIY-home-improvement-TV-show kind of way.
We walked out of the kitchen door into the backyard and over to the detached garage. “Never try to remodel a house without a workshop to put shit into,” Judge said, off-handedly. “I’d love a garage and a workshop, but beggars can’t be choosers. At least for now, this is what I have to work with.”
He pulled up on the overhead door and just as it slid into place, his phone began vibrating in his back pocket. He pulled it out and checked caller ID. “Hold on,” he said to me and then answered. “What’s up?”
“Carmen’s dad is pulling up to the house,” I heard a tiny, tinny voice say. We both looked up towards the front of the property.
Dammit! Dad is gonna be pissed.
He hadn’t exactly been happy with the idea of me leaving the hospital with Judge; he’d be even less happy to find me sleeping in his bedroom.
Judge looked over at me as he said, “Let him in; I’ll take it from there.”
He shoved the phone in his back pocket. “Ready to go see your dad?”
“Of course!” I said, trying to act like I was excited at the prospect. And I was glad to see my father. It was the accompanying butt chewing that I could do without.
We walked through the house to the front door, I anxiously trailed Judge. He opened the door just as my dad raised his hand to knock.
“There you are!” my dad exclaimed, looking past Judge to me, hurrying over to hug me. He pulled back, inspecting me. “How are you healing up? Is everything going okay?
“I’ve been calling you for two days and you can’t answer the damned phone?”
Without giving me a chance to respond, he rounded back on Judge.
“I lied my ass off on national television, so the least you can do is tell me how my daughter is doing and what the hell is going on around here!”
“Oh shit, Dad, I’m sorry, I forgot about my phone,” I jumped in, trying to deflect attention away from Judge. “It’s been a crazy couple of days and I just forgot about checking it. I’m not even sure it’s charged anymore. I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose, I promise.” I reached out and grabbed my father’s hand, pulling it to my chest, looking up at him pleadingly. I was begging him with my eyes to leave the bigger issue alone - the fact that I was here with Judge.
The guy who broke my heart at high school graduation.
The guy who my father had nothing but biting comments to make about ever since. I knew he was protecting me in his own way, but right now, I didn’t want his protection.
If I ever wished for telepathy, now was the time for it.
He reached out his hand and stroked my hair away from my face. “I’m happy to see you doing better, Carmen,” he said, and pulled me in for a kiss to the forehead. I closed my eyes, thankful that he’d “heard” my unspoken request.
“But you!” he shouted, pulling me to his side as he turned on Judge. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”
I turned red instantly, completely mortified. “Dad!” I cried. It was bad enough that he pulled these kinds of stunts on a teenager, but I was most definitely not a teenager any longer. “You cannot—”
“No, it’s okay,” Judge said, interrupting me, talking for the first time since my dad had arrived. “It’s a legitimate question. My intentions,” he said, turning towards my dad, “are to protect your daughter from the Sangre, until they are apprehended by the police.” Or we took care of them ourselves, but I didn’t that say that part out l
oud.
“Why does she have to wait here while that’s happening?” my dad volleyed back. “I can protect her at my house just as well.” And then she won’t be here with you, was the unspoken end to that sentence.
“Because it isn’t just me.” Judge walked over to the entryway and opened up both doors, allowing the heat and light to spill in. He let out a loud whistle, and within moments, three Dead Legion were walking up the sidewalk.
“You need us?” one of them asked Judge. I didn’t recognize him but felt a Judge of gratitude that these men were willing to put their lives on the line for me.
“There are four Dead Legion protecting her every moment of every day,” Judge said quietly, turning back to my dad. “Didn’t you wonder how I knew to open up the door when you’d arrived? I allowed you to come in here. I could’ve had you taken down at the front gate, if I’d wanted to.”
Turning back to the members, he said, “We’re good, thanks guys. Just discussing security measures.” They headed back to their posts and Judge closed the front doors.
“I take the security of your daughter very seriously, Mr. Williams,” he said intensely, staring at him without blinking. “I saved her life the night I went to the hospital. I’m the one who took down the Sangre and stuffed him into that supply closet.”
He walked out of the room and returned momentarily, a syringe in his hands.
“The Sangre had this in his hand the night he visited the hospital.” I closed my eyes, fear washing over me again. If Judge hadn’t been there…
“Now,” he said evenly, quietly, his anger replaced with a conciliatory tone, “I understand your frustration with our lack of communication with you. It was a pretty crazy day yesterday and I didn’t think to contact you after you held that press conference, nor did I think to contact you last night to tell you that Carmen was doing great. You and Carmen can set up a schedule for those kinds of phone calls, but I just wanted you to know that I will not let Carmen out of my sight.”
My dad advanced on Judge then until they were toe-to-toe. “And after that?” he said just as evenly. Just as quietly. “What happens when the Sangre are caught and are sent to jail? Do I have to spend months listening to my daughter cry again?”
“DAD!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, and both men turned towards me, surprised. Quite frankly, I was surprised I could get that loud. I wasn’t someone who yelled very often. “I am not a child!” I continued, stalking over to my dad, poking him in the chest with my finger. “I did not mean to ignore your phone calls, truly I didn’t. But whatever happens between Judge and me is between Judge and me, and is none of your concern. I will not stand for you talking to Judge like I am a simpleton who needs to be protected.”
I was breathing heavily when I was done, my fists on my hips, glaring at him. He stared back for a moment, gravely, and then said, “Okay. I can accept that. I know I wasn’t the most involved father when you were growing up - I just didn’t know what to do with a little girl. And since you’ve graduated from college and traveled all over the world, you’ve always been so self-sufficient; I didn’t think you needed a dad. You being kidnapped and then turning up at a clinic in Mexico in a coma, was the scariest thing I’ve ever lived through. I guess I was just trying to make up for lost time.”
I smiled then, and reached my hand out to stroke his cheek. “Thanks, Dad,” I said softly, and then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m gonna be fine, I promise. And I also promise to text you every day so you know I’m still alive and that everything is going fine. I might even call you once in a while,” I finished with a teasing smile.
“I can live with that,” my dad said gruffly, pulling me in for a long hug. I felt his love wrap around me, more tangible than I had ever felt it in my life. He pulled back and kissed me on the cheek, and then turned towards Judge.
“I appreciate you watching over Carmen,” he said gravely. “I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t fuck with her head.”
“Dad!” I hollered again but this time I couldn’t help laughing as I said it.
“I’ll do my best, sir,” Judge said, and held his hand out to shake.
With a final hug goodbye, my dad left, leaving Judge and I alone in the foyer. I couldn’t stop the blush spreading over my cheeks. My dad, as well intentioned as he was, was also as embarrassing as fuck. That had gone much worse than I had hoped.
So much for telepathy skills.
16
Judge
I stared down at Carmen, at the freckles spread across her nose and her gorgeous blue-green eyes that defied description. Blushing, she looked away and then reached down to pet Turbo, obviously anxious to do something, anything, that didn’t involve discussing her father or our relationship. I wondered if she realized how goddamn beautiful she was.
I knew that pushing any sort of future talk on her would only drive her further away. I couldn’t risk that, not right now. I could only focus on the present - today, right now. I would let the future take care of itself. Hope it would take care of itself.
My phone vibrated in my pocket again, pulling me out of my thoughts. As Carmen sat down on the couch to give Turbo the full attention that he deserved, I checked my phone and saw that Bishop had texted me.
Gone to Mexico w Knight to find the bus driver. Took Juan Carlos with us. Will report at clubhouse tomorrow. Watch over Jules while gone.
There was a task I would gladly take on. I was glad Bishop had thought to take Juan Carlos, their company translator, with them down to Mexico. With the Dead Legion constantly working with companies in both countries, a translator who could be trusted was worth their weight in gold, and Juan had proven his worth a hundred times over.
“So, it’s just us today, Carmen,” I said, sliding my phone back into my pocket. “Bishop and Knight have gone to talk to the bus driver. You ready to hang up some old boards?”
“Sure,” she said, standing up and brushing Turbo’s fur off her hands. “I need to brushe you,” she told Turbo sternly. “You’re shedding like crazy.” Turbo thumped his tail happily and Carmen grinned across the room at me. “Anything for attention,” she said, laughing.
“I know. Turbo’s an attention whore. Don’t let his gray muzzle fool you - he knows a pretty lady when he sees one.” I winked at her, enjoying the delicious blush that spread over her cheeks.
We headed out to the garage and then began packing the boards in and up the stairs. Turbo flopped down in the corner, obviously deciding that nothing exciting was happening and certainly no petting was going to happen, which at least kept him out from under foot.
I was happily surprised to see how quickly Carmen picked up on the use of a power drill. Having never used one before, she got a hang of how hard to push and what angle to hold the drill at, and was soon zipping screws into place. For me, it turned what had been a solitary labor of love into a communal labor of love. I had enjoyed remodeling my piece of shit house and turning it into a home I could be proud of, but I had always done it alone. It was surprisingly wonderful to have someone else to do it with. Four hands made it so much easier than two, not to mention that I got to stare at her every time she turned her head away. How a woman sporting a head bandage could look so gorgeous was really beyond me. Her long, strong, tanned legs were delicious and I couldn’t help imagining kissing my way up them, inch by inch.
Fuck…I adjusted myself discreetly in my jeans as she focused on a particularly stubborn board. I had to keep my dick under control. Pushing myself on Carmen wasn’t going to win me any brownie points.
After a long day’s work, we flopped down in the living room, exhausted, and just stared at each other. Carmen broke into laughter. “Do you put all of your guests to work?” she asked teasingly. “‘Hang old boards or no dinner for you’?” and she started laughing again.
“Hell, I took it easy on you,” I said, grinning at her. “I figured half of your payment was just looking gorgeous. You should see how hard my ugly guests have to work to
be fed dinner.”
She blushed and said awkwardly, “I better go take a shower. I think I have sawdust in my hair.” She walked out of the living room and I cursed myself a thousand times over for being an idiot. I could not push myself on her too quickly. She’d leave and Turbo would probably leave with her and then I’d have this whole damn house all to myself again and I didn’t want that.
Pushing those useless thoughts away, I went to the front door and asked Tats if he wouldn’t mind running down to the taco shack and buying enough fish tacos for everyone. I pulled cash out of my wallet and told him to keep the change. Tats’s eyes light up. “Sure thing, Judge,” he said, and took off on his bike, calling out to the other look-outs that he’d be right back.
I went back inside and when I heard the shower shut off, I decided that a shower of my own wouldn’t be a bad thing. I grabbed some clean clothes out of my dresser and then slipped down the hallway into the downstairs guest bathroom to take a shower, leaving Carmen alone to use the master suite.
As I let the hot water pound down on my shoulders, I pulled out my favorite body wash and began lathering up. And then when my hand slipped down to my cock, almost on auto-pilot, I closed my eyes and leaned up against the shower wall. Carmen’s smiling face instantly popped into my mind. I imagined running my hands down over her naked body, over her wide hips and muscular legs, back to her deliciously round ass, up her ass crack…
I gripped my cock tighter, pulling on it, jerking on it. There she was, kneeling in front of me, wrapping her lips around my cock, sucking it into her mouth, her warm, wet mouth surrounding it.
My seed spilled over my closed fist and my hips jerked again and again with pleasure. Fuck! I rested my head against the shower wall, letting the hot water wash my cum away.
* * *
She licked her fingers. “God, these are messy but so good! I forgot how good the food was here in Deming. Not too shabby, considering how tiny this place is.”
