by Roxie Noir
Quinn stared.
Julius had been wearing a suit yesterday, of course, but she was surprised all over again at how attractive he was. Yesterday she’d had a few other concerns, such as not getting shot, but right now, she was free to appreciate the men.
And they were appreciable. Julius looked a little more comfortable than Hudson in his dark blue suit, but even so, it was obvious that he wasn’t the kind of person who suits were made for. He was tall and wide, heavily muscled in a way that made her think more lumberjack and less lawyer, like his muscles came from hard work instead of the gym.
Hudson, his partner, was a little shorter but even more jacked. As good as he looked in a dark gray suit, there was something about the way he stood that made Quinn think he’d rather be wearing jeans and a t-shirt, like he had been yesterday.
One more time, she replayed their kiss in her mind, and felt the blush creep up her face even further.
Stop it, she thought. They’re shifters. You know it’s wrong.
She turned her head away from them, but not before Hudson caught her eye for a split second.
Is it? she thought.
“Thanks for coming in,” Judge Wood said, indicating the two seats to the right. The men sat, Julius still looking more comfortable than Hudson.
The judge laced her fingers together on top of her desk. Then she removed her glasses and let them dangle from a chain around her neck as she looked back and forth from Quinn and her parents to the shifters.
“Mr. Taylor,” she began. “You’ve filed suit in Granite County court for damages resulting from your daughter’s being, it says here, ‘viciously attacked’ by Mr. Bloom, and also for emotional damage from ‘witnessing a sex act’ between Mr. Bloom and Mr. Trager.”
“Yes,” her father said. He stared straight at the judge, refusing to even glance in the direction of the two shifter men.
Quinn looked down at her hands in her lap, wishing that she was anywhere but there.
“Can I ask why you’re filing the suit, instead of Miss Taylor?”
“Since my daughter is still under my custodianship, I’m the one who paid for her medical expenses, including the extensive counseling she’ll need.”
Quinn shut her eyes.
This is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me, she thought.
How did I not know what my parents were really like until right now?
“Miss Taylor,” the judge said.
Quinn’s head snapped up. She could feel herself begin to sweat.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said.
It’s ‘Your Honor,’ she thought, but the judge seemed to let it slide.
“You received an injury as a result of Mr. Bloom’s actions yesterday?”
Quinn glanced down at her wrist.
“Yes.”
“Could you please describe the extent of your injuries?”
Quinn gulped. She could feel a single bead of sweat make its way down the back of her neck.
“My wrist is sprained, Your Honor,” she said.
“This was determined by a medical professional?”
Quinn paused. She hazarded a glance sideways, only to see both the shifters looking at her. Julius had a look of studied calm on his face, but Hudson’s jaw was working, his hands clenched in his lap.
“Sort of, Your Honor.”
“Please elaborate?”
“Well, it was looked at by an EMT at the scene who said it was fine, just a little bruised, and I’d be fine in a few days,” she said, stumbling over her words a little. All eyes in the room were on her, and besides the judge, she could tell that they were all angry: her parents because she was telling the truth, and the shifters because she’d dragged them into this. “Later we went to a doctor who said it was sprained and he put this splint on it.”
“I see,” said the judge. She made a few notes in her paperwork. “Has this affected your day-to-day life in any way? It’s my understanding that you’re the webmaster for—” she put her glasses back on and peered at the paper — “shifter sex maniacs dot com. Are you still able to do your job?”
Quinn wished that she was a shifter. Maybe a mouse shifter, so she could shift and run away, or a housefly shifter, or a mole shifter so she could dig her way to anywhere else.
“Yes, Your Honor,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
The judge simply nodded and wrote something else down. Quinn couldn’t look to either side of her, so she stared at whatever the judge was writing, willing time to pass as quickly as possible.
“Now, could you tell us a little about the sex act you witnessed between the defendants?”
Just get it over with, she thought.
“I witnessed them kissing,” she said.
“Was there any sort of clothing removal?”
“No.”
“Any sort of extraneous touching during the kiss?”
Unbidden, the kiss she’d seen played through her mind yet again: Julius grabbing Hudson’s shoulder, his fingers digging in, Hudson’s big hand on the back of Julius’s head.
“I believe that Julius — sorry, Mr. Bloom — had his hand on, uh, Mr. Trager’s shoulder,” she said quickly, looking down.
“And do you feel that this public display of affection has caused you any sort of lasting mental trauma, Miss Taylor?”
I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to stop thinking about it, Quinn thought. But not in a traumatic way.
“Not really, Your Honor.”
“Thank you for your honesty, Miss Taylor,” the judge said. “Now, Mr. Bloom, could you describe the circumstances under which you made bodily contact with Miss Taylor?”
“I heard gunshots, and attempted to move her to safety by getting her on the ground,” he said. “If I was rough, it was unintentional.”
“And the sex act?”
As Julius and Hudson answered the judge, the blood rushing through Quinn’s ears drowned them out.
They hate me, she thought. They must hate me, and everything I do, and my parents, and I don’t think I blame them.
Quinn wanted to cry. Four days ago, she wouldn’t have felt this bad. Four days ago, she’d been convinced that all shifters were perverts who did nothing but fuck and fight, and she’d also been convinced that they should all be fenced into their areas and left alone.
But then she’d come here, and it hadn’t been true at all. Not only had her parents lied to her, horribly, but they’d vilified a whole group of people while they were at it, and now they were trying to make these men’s lives miserable.
Sure, their relationships were weird. She did find something deeply unsettling about the thought of a triad, but she was less and less sure that it was any of her business.
We should just let people live, she thought.
“Thank you, Mr. Bloom and Mr. Trager,” the judge said. “After hearing from both sides, I’ve decided to dismiss the case.”
“Your Honor,” her father said, half-standing, but the judge held up a hand, and he sat back down.
“Miss Taylor’s wrist was slightly harmed, it’s true, but as the defendant was removing her from the line of fire, I cannot find him liable for damages,” she said. “As for the sex act, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, I must inform you that it is not illegal to kiss in public, whether or not you agree with someone’s lifestyle.”
Quinn exhaled and closed her eyes, feeling her whole body relax. Humiliated as she was, at least she’d be out of there soon, and then she’d never have to see Julius or Hudson again, or be on the receiving end of their glares.
The judge went through more legal talk, but Quinn wasn’t listening. She was too preoccupied with her relief to understand what was going on.
Finally, the two men rose and walked from the judges’ chambers. Quinn and her parents followed, her father beginning to rant loudly against shifters asking for special rights as they walked through the hall in the courthouse, his ugly voice echoing from the walls.
Julius and Hud
son could hear him, she knew, until they turned down a different hallway, still looking perfectly composed.
Then, Quinn had a sudden impulse.
Do one decent thing today, she thought.
“Mom, Dad, I gotta go to the bathroom, I’ll meet you outside,” she said, and then darted down the hall behind Julius and Hudson. She could hear her parents shout something at her, but she ran around a corner before they could stop her.
5
Julius
They walked quickly down the hallway. Julius felt like he was barely staying calm, even though it was over.
“She dismissed the case,” Hudson said, trying to reason with his mate. “And she heard the case in record time, too.” Their long legs strode over the granite.
“They still wasted my entire afternoon,” Julius said. “I could be doing something important right now, but instead, I’m listening to two assholes claim, in front of a judge, that I’m a pervert.”
Julius wanted to grab one of the marble busts that dotted the hall at intervals, lift it, and smash up, but he kept himself — and his bear — in check.
Don’t prove to them that you’re an animal, he thought.
“Wait!” came a voice from behind them, its sweet sound echoing from the walls.
Julius and Hudson both stopped mid-stride like they’d hit a wall, and they turned in unison.
There she was, rushing down the hallway, walking as fast as she could manage in heels and a skirt.
Deep inside, Julius felt his bear roar, and he grit his teeth, forcing himself to adjust his suit coat and stand, calmly, in the hall. He didn’t have to look to understand that Hudson was having the exact same struggle.
If Julius had thought that Quinn looked mouthwatering on the day she’d been protesting him, he thought she looked stunning now. The skirt hugged her cushioned hips, perfectly accentuating her curves and her smaller waist. She’d tucked a white button-down shirt into it, and as she walked just a little too fast, he could see the buttons around her generous bust start to strain the tiniest bit.
Ripping one of those buttons off would be the easiest thing in the world, he thought, struggling to control himself. I could do it with my teeth, and then watch it bounce off the wall as I buried my face in her—
Next to him, Hudson emitted a low, quiet growl, barely audible even to Julius standing right next to him.
“Hey,” said Quinn, catching up to them. Her face was a faint pink and she sounded just a tiny bit out of breath, her chest rising and falling quickly.
Her face, look at her face, Julius thought.
He raised both eyebrows, trying to act every inch the cool, calm, collected lawyer.
“Yes?” he asked, forcing himself to sound as chilly as possible.
Next to him, Hudson clasped his hands in front of himself, subconsciously assuming the bodyguard pose.
“I, um, well...” she said, her voice trailing off slightly, her eyes flicking from Julius to Hudson and back.
Then, she seemed to collect herself. She stood up straight and looked Julius in the eye.
“I just wanted to apologize for my parents,” she said. There was the faintest tremor to her voice, and from the way she held her hands together, Julius could tell that he and his mate made her nervous. “I’m really sorry for the things they said back there, and I’m sorry that they sued you at all, and I wish they hadn’t dragged me into it.”
Julius nodded.
“Thank you,” rumbled Hudson.
“My wrist is fine,” she went on, the words tumbling out of her now. “I don’t know why they won’t just leave you alone, I thought you were going to be animals or something, but actually seem okay and I don’t know what everyone’s problem is.”
“Some people can’t abide what they don’t understand,” Julius said. He was still doing his best to stay calm on the outside, but inside, he trembled with lust for this girl — her perfect, curvy body, her verve at defying her parents, her bravery at talking to the two of them at all.
Hell, he could tell that she was still shaking slightly.
She’s probably been raised to think we eat babies or something, Julius thought. She’s brave as hell to talk to us.
“Thanks, Miss Taylor,” he said.
He held out his hand for her to shake it, and for a moment, she eyed it nervously, as though it might be some kind of trap.
Then she took a quick breath, swallowed, and put her own hand in his, shaking it firmly.
“It’s just Quinn,” she said.
Julius smiled, careful not to show his teeth too much.
“I’m Julius,” he said, releasing her hand. “This is my mate, Hudson.”
Hudson and Quinn shook hands, Hudson murmuring a nicety.
“Thanks,” said Quinn. “I mean, sorry. I gotta get back, my parents are probably pretty mad.”
She nodded once and then turned, rushing back down the hall, her hips and perfect ass swaying from side to side in her skirt.
Julius and Hudson stared. They couldn’t help it.
I could watch her walk away all day, he thought.
“She’s afraid of us,” Hudson rumbled, leaning his face toward Julius’s ear.
“But she’s brave,” Julius said, his eyes lingering on her form as she turned a corner and disappeared from sight.
“I bet we could make her less afraid.”
Julius turned to face his mate, finally letting go of some of his control now that she was gone.
Right away, he started to get an erection. He tried to ignore it.
“We can’t,” he said. “Hudson, you know we can’t.”
“Can’t is an awfully strong word,” Hudson said. A smile began to spread across his face. “Don’t you mean shouldn’t?”
Julius’s palms began to sweat, his bear growling inside. He fought down the urge to grab Hudson’s face in both of his hands and press the other man against the wall of the courthouse.
People are watching, he reminded himself. Your colleagues are watching.
Hudson put one hand very, very lightly on Julius’s shoulder. Just a gentle touch between mates.
Julius’s knees went weak, his bear clawing to get out.
Mate, it was saying. Mate. Mate.
Julius licked his lips and glanced down the hall, at the line of closed, dark doors.
One of them was the jury sequestration room — almost always empty.
Acting far more calm than he felt, Julius grabbed Hudson’s hand. They walked down the hallway, and Julius nodded to a colleague of his, the assistant State’s Attorney. The man waved back, a manila file folder in one hand.
“Did I ever show you the jury room?” Julius asked, just a little bit too loudly, to Hudson. “It’s got an absolutely beautiful mural of the first city council of Granite Valley, you know.”
“I don’t believe I’ve seen it,” Hudson said, playing along.
They passed two women walking quickly, both wearing skirt suits and pumps, carrying paper coffee cups. The women didn’t even look at Julius and Hudson.
They reached the door to the jury room and Julius opened it, the brass doorknob blissfully cool in his hand. He stood perfectly straight as he let Hudson go through the door first, looking one last time over his shoulder at the other people in the hall.
No one was paying them any attention. Julius felt his shoulders relax with relief, and then Hudson’s hand grabbed his and pulled him inside.
He had barely shut the door behind him before he was pinned against the wall, Hudson’s mouth on his, the other man’s hips pinned against his own.
Julius could feel the long, hard throb of Hudson’s erection against his own, and the feeling was enough to shut his thinking brain off and his animal brain on.
From somewhere deep in his chest, he groaned, hands sliding under Hudson’s suit jacket. He knew the other man’s body almost as well as his own. Better, maybe. After all, he didn’t spend as much time staring at himself in the mirror as he spent looking at Hudson.
Julius opened his mouth, pushing his tongue into Hudson’s, muscle against muscle. In seconds he had Hudson’s suit jacket off and he tossed it toward a table in the center of the room, not caring when one of the buttons made a loud thwack against the wood. His own followed, seconds later, and then Hudson was undoing the buttons on his shirt, yanking it out where it had been tucked into his trousers, his rough hands against the soft skin of his belly.
“Shh,” Hudson whispered, teasingly, breaking their kiss for just long enough to speak. “That’s not the sound of mural appreciation.”
Julius realized he’d been groaning, and laughed.
“I’ve got a keen eye for art,” he said.
For just a moment, he thought of Quinn’s ass as she walked away from them.
Then he thought of her, riding him, her face flushed, her eyes closed in bliss.
He grabbed Hudson by the belt and jerked the other man against himself, his eyes shuddering closed as they rubbed lengths again, through the thick suit fabric. His other hand danced under Hudson’s shirt, feeling his hard ab muscles alongside the thick ridges of the scars there. He knew the story behind every one: the long one that traveled up his side from a motorcycle accident ten years ago, the diagonal slash across one pec from a knife fight not long before they’d met.
Julius moved his lips along Hudson’s jaw — clean shaven for once, since they’d been with the judge earlier — and followed his skin down to the spot below his jaw, right where he could feel Hudson’s heartbeat.
Ba dum. Ba dum. Julius nipped the spot softly with his teeth, just hard enough for Hudson to feel it.
Hudson groaned, and Julius could feel his cock stiffen against his.
“It’s an excellent mural, isn’t it?” he said, teasing the other man.
Then Hudson’s hands were on his belt, unbuckling it, whipping the black leather through the buckle, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, his thick, calloused fingers drawing Julius’s cock out of his pants and stroking it once from root to tip, his grip tight.
“God I want to fuck you,” Julius hissed.
“Is that what this is?” Hudson asked, a smile in his voice, sliding his hand up and down one more time.
