by Skyla Madi
The woman snorts. “You’re a Laurent. No one cares what you have to say.”
Isabelle shoots out of her chair and it tips and crashes against the floor. “You are so fucking rude—”
I snap my attention to Judge, who lifts his eyebrows, surprised by Isabelle’s outburst. Most of the men around the table mimic Judge’s expression.
“Okay, Terror,” Creed sighs, pushing his drink away as he stands up. “Time to go home.”
He bends low, grabs her around her waist, and lifts her over his shoulder. The men around the table slap their palms against it and make dog barking noises, quickening my pulse. Creed flips them off, continuing to carry Isabelle toward the front door.
“Yasmine! Come on,” she shouts, using her palms to push off Creed’s back in order to hold her head upright. She cuts her eyes at Judge. “Before you catch something.”
Snickers sound around the table and Judge scowls. Maybe I shouldn’t be here. Maybe it’ll be easier for Judge to talk—or do whatever—to this woman if I’m not here. I ease my chair back and begin to lift myself out of it when Judge clamps his hand on my thigh, holding me in place.
I open my mouth. “Damon—”
“What do you want, Liv?” he asks, and the table breaks up into multiple small, stilted, conversations, giving us privacy.
“What I always want.” I see her, out of the corner of my eye, bend toward his face. “You, baby.”
She says it loud enough for me to hear and I want to throw up. I push my chair further back and lift myself off it, slipping out from Judge’s heavy grip. I turn and step around Hawk, brushing my fingers along the back of his wooden seat to stabilize myself. The handful of members around the table spare me a glance as I pass by.
“Go bother someone else,” Judge tells Liv.
A chair screeches against the floor and I don’t need to look to know whose it is.
“Judge?” she shouts, and a deafening silence falls. “I miss you.”
J U D G E
I scowled as Liv held on tight to my wrist, her volcanic pools glistening with need and desperation. She missed me? Was she fucking serious? Groaning, I turned my head and watched Yasmine get further and further away, the opposite of how tonight was supposed to end. I shook Liv off, then took her by the hand. I felt the excitement in her clammy palm as I yanked her past Casino, Armi, Stoic, and Amani. I stopped beside Modo, planted my boot on the edge of his chair, and forced it out, exposing his lap. Gripping her by her shoulders, I turned Liv’s body so her ass was facing him, then I pushed her into his lap.
Swearing, he caught her with his thighs, and she slammed her palm against the table, spilling his beer.
“What the fuck, Judge?” she snapped, and I looked at Modo.
He looked terrified and that amused me. He talked a big game, but I couldn’t remember the last time I saw him with a woman. He had a tough upbringing. I knew through Ayr that Modo was uncomfortable with sex, but hey, maybe Liv did it for him.
“She’s all yours,” I told him, then leveled her with my gaze. “We don’t fuck anymore.”
Her heart broke in her face and I watched it shatter in her eyes. I tolerated her as best I could, knowing how she felt about me, but now she was fucking with my personal life. Maybe it was petty to throw her away because she was messing up my chances with Yasmine, but she signed a contract when she started here, one that stipulated she’d wouldn’t interfere with the personal lives of our members. Fucking me wasn’t a loophole and this was the price she’d pay for getting in my way. I had to make an example—and what respectable member turned a clubwhore into an old lady, anyway? Clubwhores weren’t old lady material. That’s why they’re hired in the first place. They were throwaways.
“You’re breaking up with me?” she shrieked, her eyes welling with tears, causing mascara to smear along her lower eyelids. “Giving me to this…this fucking ape?”
The men snickered. I imagined this was the best entertainment they’d had in a while. I leaned into her face, so there was no mistaking what I was about to say.
“Fuck or leave. No one is holding you here against your will. You can end your contract at any time.”
Liv swallowed hard and sniffled. Then she leaned against Modo’s chest and made herself comfortable. She didn’t think about it, not for a second. Of course she wasn’t going to leave. They never did. The booze was free, drugs were cheap, cocks were hard, and the money was good. That was all that mattered to them. And that was why I could never fall in love with any of them—because they were weak, like my ex. The kind of woman I’d love would rather be homeless than let me put her on the knee of another man.
But Liv let me walk away and that told me more than words ever could. Not that it mattered. There’s nothing she could do to stop me from pushing through the throng of drunk bikers to get to Minnie, who stood in front of Creed. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way he stared down at her, like a hungry goddamn wolf. I took as big strides as I could, but I wasn’t quick enough. Creed touched her hair, a thin curl that sat against her breast and I felt her flush from here.
Motherfucker.
Between them, Blondie grinned at me and I regretted ever toying with Creed’s woman. I knew the moment I laid my arm over the back of Minnie’s chair that I put a target on her back. Creed’s gaze immediately fell to it and he’d found the perfect opportunity for revenge. I approached recklessly, barreling right up to them.
“Looks like you’ve got your hands full with that one, so Yasmine is going to stay at our place tonight,” Izzy said, smiling smugly. “It’ll give you and your whore some alone time.”
My whore? Jesus Christ. She was drunk. I cut my eyes at my VP. “Get Blondie home before I take her over my knee for being so damn disrespectful.”
Blondie stepped forward, squaring her shoulders. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Creed laughed. I wasn’t surprised he found it funny. He was so far up her ass it pissed me off. I blew impatient air out of my nose. I had enough. I snagged Yasmine’s wrist and pulled her toward the hall. She followed, and somehow managed to keep up with my large, angry steps. I wasn’t really angry, but frustration hung heavy in my chest. We stormed past the spare room and headed toward the door at the end of the hall: mine.
“Damon?” Minnie asked, slightly breathless as I pulled her along. “Are you mad at me?”
“No.” But I bit the words out, and she dug her heels in, pulling against me.
“I’m not going in there with you.”
I dragged her a few more steps before she ripped free of my grip. I whirled on my heel, leaned into her pretty face, and pointed at my bedroom door.
“You’re gonna walk in there, or I’m gonna drag you—”
“Drag me?” She frowned and folded her arms across her chest. “Try it. I dare you.”
I stared her down and she didn’t budge. I raised my hand to swipe at my face and she lifted her shoulders with a flinch. She thought I was going to hit her? Guilt twisted through me and dug its barbs into every muscle. Why was I being aggressive toward her? She didn’t do anything wrong. I just hated unexpected events, and I hated I lost control the moment she entered my clubhouse and demanded I throw her out on her ass myself. I should’ve left Armi to deal with her. I should’ve…there were many things I should’ve done but I didn’t.
Yasmine Garcia was a spanner in the works of my life, and I didn’t know why I needed her as bad as I did…
…I just did.
She symbolized everything I wanted, everything my daughter needed, and I guess I clung to the illusion I subconsciously developed. Minnie was a mom, and I adored mothers—good mothers. Maybe finding a good mother made the guilt in my chest less heavy, maybe that’s why I coveted Yasmine so much.
I straightened my spine and moistened my lips. I had to apologize, but I hadn’t said sorry in a long time, not for anything. Last time I said it was the day we lowered Nila’s casket into the ground. Exhaling, I turned toward my door and twisted th
e handle. I pushed it open and looked at Minnie. She glanced inside, then at me. Her face softened, as if accepting my silent apology, and she stepped forward, entering my room. I followed, closing the door behind us.
Inside, Yasmine slipped out of her shoes, then made her way toward my bed to peer up at the night sky through the skylight. The light of the moon drenched her, making her skin and flyaways glow.
“It’s a full moon,” she said as I took off my boots and socks.
I stepped toward her. “Yasmine—”
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” she cut in, avoiding my gaze. “I’m not here to judge you or tell you how to live. I’m here for my son. That’s all.”
I sauntered closer, closing the distance between us, and I stood close behind her. “That’s all?”
I touched her wrists as she hung her arms by her sides, and smoothed my palms up her forearms to her elbows, making her hang her head.
“Damon…”
“You don’t like it?” I asked, sliding my palms up her biceps to her shoulders, then onto her neck and, finally, I pushed my fingers into her hair to massage her scalp.
“I love it,” she whispered, tilting her head, guiding me to where she wanted me to touch her. “It feels good.”
I stayed there for a small eternity, massaging her scalp, and touching her long, perfect hair. She smelled of coconut and raspberries. Nothing in this clubhouse has ever smelled of coconut and raspberries, and the sweet scent made my mouth water. I brushed Minnie’s hair over one shoulder, then eased her flush against me, her back to my torso.
“Liv upset you,” I said, lowering my mouth to her neck. I kissed her behind the ear, loving the way she shivered against me. “It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t need your assurances, Damon.” She lifted her arm and wrapped it around my neck. “Just your hands, and your lips.”
I kissed her again and she sighed. I moved my hands to her sides and caressed her from her ribs to her hips, until her blissful sighs morphed into cute, little moans. Yasmine lowered her arm from my neck, and I wasted no time pushing the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders.
“I got rid of her,” I told Minnie, for no reason at all. “I don’t want her anymore.”
“I don’t care, Judge.”
But she cared. I knew she did. Otherwise, why would she leave? I felt the way her body stiffened when Liv approached, and how quick she pulled her hand from my thigh.
She cared. She just didn’t want to care, to protect her feelings.
I grabbed Yasmine by the shoulders and turned her to face me. Her bare breasts swayed with the movement, only snatching my attention for a second, then we made eye contact.
And I stared at her, into her.
“You don’t care?” I asked, my voice a husky whisper. “Or maybe you care too much?”
I wanted her to look at me while I touched her. I wanted her to see me and to see that I was making room in my life for her. Short term, or long term, I could accommodate her—and her son. I could take care of them.
I touched her waist and followed the curve of her body to her hips. She was softer here and around her belly, and it drove me crazy. I hooked my thumbs around the band of her underwear and pushed, but she stopped me as I was about to push the fabric over the curve of her ass.
“Maybe you’re right,” she said, flicking her gaze between my eyes and my lips. “Maybe I care too much.”
Yasmine pushed her underwear down to her feet by herself and kicked them to the side. Stepping away from me, she turned and crawled onto my bed. Her bronzed body glowed in the moonlight, like that night on the lake, and it took everything I had in me to stay rooted where I stood.
“Are you going to stop at my scalp?” she asked, peering over her shoulder before lying flat on her stomach. “Because there are other places I liked to be massaged.”
I shrugged out of my cut and it fell to the floor. Then, I yanked off my tee and my pulse quickened at the thought of finally putting my hands on Minnie’s naked body. No one could interrupt me here. She was mine. All night.
And I was going to make the most of every second.
Y A S M I N E
Judge holds my body between his thighs, the rough feel of his jeans causing goosebumps to erupt along my sensitive flesh. Digging in with the tips of his fingers, then following with the heels of his giant hands, Judge kneads my muscles with surprising skill and grace. I hum, struggling to hold my heavy eyelids open.
“What’d Creed say to you?” he asks, running the pads of his thumbs down each side of my spine until he reaches the curve of my backside. “When he touched your hair.”
Warmth blossoms in my cheeks. “Nothing.”
He makes a low noise in his chest, like a growl, and I feel his hand in my hair as he snakes it across my scalp. He lifts my head off the bed, and I tuck my elbows underneath my chest, lifting my upper body as he twists my head to the side.
“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
I turn my torso and Judge lifts his weight off my backside, allowing me to turn my body underneath him. He releases my hair and settles on my pelvis as I lie on my back and stare up at him. He’s as gorgeous as ever from this angle, and I flick my attention over the ridges of his abdominals to his face.
“He called me bait,” I confess, folding one arm underneath my breasts, the other across my middle, shielding myself from his heated gaze. “You’re newest little plaything.”
Judge arches a brow. “That all?”
The fact he doesn’t deny it makes my pulse race.
“He said he was going to have fun with me.” I moisten my lips. “Why would he say that?”
He glances across the room and lets out a heavy exhale. “Long story short?”
“Preferably.”
“I slept with Izzy.”
He meets my eyes and I lift my eyebrows, my mouth falling open. A pang of jealousy hits my gut. “And he knows?”
“He was there.”
Oh. For some reason, embarrassment spreads up my neck and builds in my face. I know they’re close I just didn’t realize they were that close. “The three of you?”
“Yes.” Judge leans on the bed, his palm beside my head, and moves his knee to the space between my legs. He forces them open, then settles between them, and the rough denim fabric of his jeans elicits goosebumps on my inner thighs. His lips quirk. “And I’ve made his life hell since.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought I knew what I wanted.”
“Her?” I ask, my stomach tying itself into painful knots. Judge dips his head, bringing his mouth toward mine. “Him?”
He pulls back, and I smirk as he screws up his face. “Are you serious?”
“What? It’s twenty-twenty.”
Sighing, Judge rolls off me and lies flat on his back. I turn my body toward him and rest against his side. We lie in the silence, staring up at the inky, star-studded sky that douses us in cool moonlight.
“You wanted her?” I ask, unsure I want the answer.
“Thought I did.” He keeps his attention on the skylight. “I only wanted what Creed had—what I never had with Nila’s mother. Thought Blondie could fill the emptiness, or something.”
“Wanting the best for your child is a heavy burden to carry,” I whisper. “Failing to give it to them creates a void I don’t think ever goes away.”
“You called me a good dad. That made the void a little smaller.” Judge turns his large body in my direction and brushes hair off my neck. “You’re a good mom, doing everything you can to help Nicolás…even if it means being with me.”
“You think I don’t want to be with you?”
“Jumping from one criminal to another? It weighs heavily on you. I know it’s not what you want—not for yourself, or your son.”
Every word that falls from his perfect mouth is the truth and I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation so raw and candid. Isabelle and I spoke a lot today, but it wasn’
t deep. I avoided talking about my son, my past, and Judge as much as she avoided discussing her past and Creed.
“I don’t know what I want,” I tell him, propping my head on my hand. “What should I want?”
Judge shrugs a shoulder. “Aren’t you tired of men telling you what you want?”
I straighten my spine and swallow hard as his words strike a chord in me. “I…I am tired. Every day spent with Elias was on his terms. Every decision was his to make and all I did was follow. He chose my meals, my clothes, where we travelled, and who I spoke to. I woke every morning to a schedule I didn’t design and obligations I didn’t choose. In his control, I lost myself.”
I’m a shell of the woman I once was. I keep the thought from falling from my tongue. Once upon a time, I was confident and steadfast. I knew what I wanted, when I wanted it, and how I was going to get it. If I’m going to survive out here, a single mother with a special needs child, I need to rebuild myself, to be strong and self-assured. I glance at Judge’s mouth as he licks his lower lip. I know sleeping with him isn’t going to rebuild me overnight, but it’s a good first foothold. Right?
I lean forward and I kiss him. I kiss him because I want to.
Because I need to.
Judge reciprocates with as much vigor as I give, and I feel the heat of every flick of his tongue all over my body. I inhale him as deep as I can, getting so fucking high on my need for him. He brushes his tongue against mine, and bites at my lips, driving me insane. Judge groans and rolls in my direction and covers me with his body. He breaks the kiss by trailing his mouth along my jaw and down my neck where he bites my tender flesh and flicks his tongue against my pulse.
I reach between us and unfasten his belt, then work on his jeans. I manage to get them over the curve of his muscular ass and halfway down his thighs when his hard arousal springs free, his hot flesh scorching against my core. I smooth my hand against Judge’s shoulder blade, feeling the shape and power of it as he holds his heavy weight off my body. I wander my fingers up the back of his neck, then grip the short hair at his nape and pull, lifting his mouth from my flesh as he hisses. I bring his nose to mine and his dark, chaotic blue eyes flash. I open my mouth to say…something…but words fail me. How do I ask someone I don’t really know to keep his mouth on mine? How do I confess kissing him is my new favorite thing in the world without sounding like a psychopath?
