by K. Webster
She sets her coffee down on the end table and climbs off the bed, before walking over to me. I’m taken by surprise when she leans forward and kisses my forehead. “Thank you.”
While she gathers her uniform and we tidy up the cabin, I can’t help but want to tell her the same. Thank you, Dorian. Fire burns in my chest and purpose thrums through me. It’s been years since I’ve felt this alive.
“Have you always lived here?” My shoulders are tense as we walk through the apartment complex. It’s on the crummy side of town and the people loitering about are questionable, even at this time of morning. The place is rundown and weeds overrun the cracks in the sidewalks. She’ll be much fucking safer at my house.
“For the past two months. They let me pay my rent in cash to keep me out of the system. Apparently, that isn’t unusual for them. Aside from the occasional creeper offering to give me a good time and the couple above me who have loud, strange sex, it’s been fine.” She walks up to a door and hesitates. I drag my attention from the apartment next door that has a dirty used diaper sitting on the welcome mat.
The moment I realize her door is ajar, I step in front of her. “Stay back,” I order, a low growl in my throat.
She nods rapidly at me, the terrified woman from before back in place.
I push through the door and my heart sinks. The place has been trashed. Holes punched in walls. Her couch sliced to shreds. Dishes broken all over the kitchen floor.
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath.
“What—” A whine in her throat lets me know she sees the destruction.
“Stay here. Let me make sure nobody is here.” I stalk through the place opening closet doors and looking under her bed, but nobody is here. In her bedroom, all of her clothes have been yanked from her closet and drawers. Everything has been shredded. Whoever did this was a fucking asshole. My bet is on her stalker abusive ex. “It’s safe,” I call out.
Moments later, she stands in the doorway of her bedroom, tears brimming in her eyes. “How could he?”
I storm over to her and pull her against my chest. I’d need a fucking hug too if someone destroyed my house. “The same way he could hurt you. He’s a bastard and won’t get off so easily. Pack a bag of what is salvageable, if anything, and I’ll make sure we get you whatever else you need later.”
Pulling out my phone while she picks through clothes on the floor, I dial my friend Rick.
“Sheriff McMahon,” he booms from the other line.
I scrub at my face, my eyes skimming to the broken picture frames on the floor and shake my head. “Hey, man.”
“Something else come up?” We just spoke this morning and I’m already calling again.
“Actually, her place has been destroyed. It was him, Rick. I know it was him,” I grit out, fury bubbling in my chest. I’m not a violent man but so help me I want to bash Carson’s skull in. The one satisfying punch to his pretty face wasn’t enough.
“Text me the address and I’m on my way. Filing a report is the first step in building a solid case against this guy,” he explains, his voice gruff. “See you soon.”
I send him the address and then set to helping her find anything that hasn’t been ruined. Not much remains. She disappears from the bedroom and when I hear her shriek, I rush into the other room.
“They were in the dryer!” she exclaims as she holds a pair of flannel pajama bottoms to her chest. “These are my favorite. He didn’t ruin them.”
It’s then that I decide I’m going to find the brand and buy her a pair in every color. Anything to see that sweet smile on her face again.
She sets to pulling the other clothes out of the dryer while I look up the apartment complex management. Taking my conversation into the other room, I tell them to get the place cleaned up and repaired. That I am paying for the damages and that she’s moving out. Since she was paying month to month in cash, they didn’t even question it. She has a sack full of things that weren’t destroyed when Sheriff finally shows up.
He pulls off his aviator sunglasses as he steps into the apartment, a scowl painted on his face. Rick and I go way back. He’d gone to school with my younger brother Mathias and was always at the house growing up. My brother moved out west for college and ended up settling eventually in San Francisco. Rick and I grew closer once my brother was no longer in the picture.
“I’m Sheriff McMahon,” he greets when he sees Dorian.
She shakes his hand and frowns. “Sorry about all this.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart. There’s nothing I hate more than an abusive man dead set on destroying a woman’s life. You’re going to tell me everything you can about Carson Jennings.” He flashes me a dark look. “And then we’re going to take the evil bastard down.”
“Sophia!” I boom from the entryway of my house as I close the door behind us. After the sheriff worked the scene at her apartment and helped her file a restraining order against Carson, we headed to the mall. At first, she was resistant to letting me pay for clothes but when I agreed it could be a loan, she finally caved.
Sophia’s tell-tale shuffle can be heard and soon she rounds the corner relying way too heavily on the cane. I make a mental note to sit down with Drew, the owner of the physical therapy clinic she goes to three times a week, and get some real answers about her deterioration.
Her expression is bored as she surveys the many bags resting at my feet. But when her green eyes lift to find the pretty blonde standing behind me, she stiffens. All boredom has left as her brows furl together.
“Sweetheart,” I say in a tone one would use on a dog that looks seconds from biting. “This is a friend of mine. Dorian Dresser. She’s going to stay with us for a while.”
Sophia’s dark brow lifts at the mention of “friend” and the smirk on her face tells me she hardly believes the words coming out of my mouth. It’s not my place to tell Dorian’s story so this will have to do for now.
“She’ll be interning at the courthouse with me,” I continue. “Why don’t you pull out some steaks and we’ll grill out later?”
Sophia acknowledges Dorian with an icy smile before shuffling away toward the kitchen. Once she’s out of earshot, I turn to apologize. “I’m sorry. She’s been fairly unhappy since she had her softball injury last spring.”
Dorian waves me off. “It’s fine.”
“Let me show you to your room.” I gather the bags up and I lead her through my massive home giving her a brief tour along the way. Because I’m a selfish, lonely man, I show her to the guest room that’s right next to the master. Once inside, I set the bags on the queen-sized bed that is decorated with a quilt which was passed down through my late wife’s family. Often, I find Sophia curled up in here with the quilt wrapped around her.
“Help yourself to anything here at the house. There’s a bathroom attached. I’ll fire up the grill around five…” I trail off when she falls on her back onto the bed and her breasts bounce beneath the fabric of Dane’s borrowed T-shirt. I can see her nipples, erect and just begging for attention. Fuck me, maybe inviting her here was a bad idea. I clear my throat. “If you need me, I’ll be next door. I’m in desperate need of a shower.”
A cold one.
I wake from my nap confused and disoriented. Panic seizes me immobile until I realize I’m not in Carson’s fancy house. I’m safe. With a judge of all people. The shower in the guest bathroom is ten times more luxurious than the crappy one I had at my apartment that had limited hot water. This one sprays hot water for what feels like eternity. After the longest shower ever, I wrap up in a towel and set to hanging my new clothes in the closet. A knock at the door startles me.
Rushing over to the door, I fling it open, eager to see Max again. He may or may not have starred in a little fantasy in the shower where I brought myself to orgasm for the first time in months.
“I was going to let you know that…” His words trail off as he gapes at me in nothing but my towel. I’d answered the door without thinkin
g. Heat creeps up my throat as he tries and fails to peel his gaze from my body that’s barely covered by a plush towel that’s tied simply at my breasts. “I, uh, I…”
While he’s struggling to form words, I quickly peruse his freshly showered body. He’s no longer wearing a suit but instead looks casual—and hot as hell if I’m being frank—in a fitted black V-neck T-shirt and sexy jeans that are trendy with some holes and wear in the denim. His brownish black hair is styled in a way that I’d coin as “just fucked” and is messy in a deliberate way. He rubs his palm across his scruffy cheek before dragging his gaze up to the ceiling as though he’s saying a prayer to the man above.
“You look nice,” I mutter, my voice barely a whisper.
His sharp green eyes snap to mine and I don’t miss the flicker of hunger in them. It sends a shiver rippling down my spine that has nothing to do with the fact my hair is still wet and the air conditioning is too low.
“So do you.” His voice is gruff and all male. It speaks to the female parts of me that are desperate to connect with a man both physically and emotionally.
“Oh,” I say with a playful laugh. “This ol’ thing?”
His lips curve up on one side. I’m growing quite fond of his crooked grins. “Especially that ol’ thing.” He reaches forward and tugs at a wet strand of my hair. His nearness is waking parts of me that have been slumbering for far too long. I nearly let out a moan of need when his thumb brushes along my jawline before he withdraws his hand. “You should get dressed and come help us cook.”
He stalks down the hallway away from me but I don’t miss the fact that he casts another glance over his shoulder. His expression is troubled, as if he’s at war with himself. It makes me want to side with the flirtatious man within him in convincing the responsible judge that it’s okay to be a little reckless.
I’m tired of running and hiding.
I just want to be free.
And he might be just the person to help me do that.
Thirty minutes later and I’m all dolled up. For him. Ever since I acknowledged my attraction to Max, and decided I wanted to do something about it, I’ve been a bit determined. And by determined, I mean back to my old self. The fire that used to burn within me and drive me to be the best at whatever I set my mind to has once again sparked. I feel the slow burn inside of me that has the potential to be a raging inferno again. Carson doused those flames with his icy, cold heart. But I’m done being contained.
Before I exit the room, I glance down at my new summer dress. It’s a bright blue halter top that exposes my cleavage in a tasteful way. I’ve pulled my hair into a sleek ponytail so that the open back of the dress is revealed. The white flip-flops I slip into aren’t exactly sexy but the rest looks pretty damn good. My makeup is muted but I paid extra attention to my lips. They look fuller and kissable. I will kiss him again today.
I roam through the house toward the kitchen. His daughter Sophia sits at the table cutting vegetables for a salad. Max stands at the kitchen island stabbing holes in steaks. Each time he plunges the blade into the meat, his forearm muscle flexes. I still have a hard time believing he’s as old as he claims. When I look at Max Rowe, I don’t see an aging man.
Virile.
Strong.
Sexy.
Addictive.
I don’t think he realizes how delicious he really is. Any time we flirt, he almost seems shy. And while he appears to be a generally confident man, something about his way with women—or at least me—seems sweet and innocent.
After the hell I endured with Carson, Max is exactly what I need.
“Do you know how to make lemonade?” Sophia asks in greeting, her tone venom-filled.
Max’s attention is drawn to me and his features darken upon seeing me. Something carnal flashes in his bright green eyes that seems to light a match within me. Okay, so maybe he’s not so innocent after all. But instead of fearing him, it only makes me want him more.
“I do,” I answer her and flash a smile.
She rolls her eyes and goes back to chopping. When my head turns back to Max, I find him prowling my way, the hunger in his gaze powerful.
“You look beautiful,” he utters, his eyes shamelessly roaming over my body but lingering at my breasts. “Breathtaking.”
Sophia makes a snorting sound but I ignore her. I’m too caught up in this man’s feral stare. It’s as if he’s undressing me with his eyes. I want to be naked for him. I want to see this same stare as he spreads my thighs apart and sinks inside of me.
“Lemonade,” I say, my words shaky.
He clears his throat, the spell broken. “Top cabinet over there. There’s a mix inside but we always cut some fresh lemons to add to the pitcher. Pitcher is in that cabinet by the refrigerator.”
I flash him a smile and set to making the lemonade. Sophia doesn’t speak much but Max and I easily fall into a conversation about my studies in college. Despite Carson terrorizing me, I managed to finish my degree this past spring. Chatting with Max is easy. He makes me feel comfortable.
“Want to come help me with the grill?” he questions. “I’ll show you the pool.”
I nod with a bright smile on my face. I sure as heck don’t want to be left alone with the ice queen who looks like she eats blondes like me for dinner rather than the steak we have planned. Once outside, he checks on the grill but doesn’t put the steaks on right away. He sets the plate on the ledge next to the grill and offers me his hand. Without hesitation, I take it. Electric currents seem to pulsate from where his hot hand keeps my cold one warmed. Together, we walk through the big yard where he shows me the pool, hot tub, and finally a gazebo in one corner of the yard that overlooks a small coy pond.
“Oh!” I exclaim upon seeing the big yellow fish. “They’re so beautiful.” I rest my chest against the gazebo side as I peer down at the coy.
“So beautiful,” he agrees, his voice husky.
I nearly moan the moment his hands find my waist. He steps closer to me to peer over my head at the fish. His heat almost suffocates me but in a good way. I want him to envelop every sense that I have. With him so close to me, I can’t help but lean back against him, seeking his comforting touch. He smells delicious and everything about him calls to me. Instead of fighting this moment, his arms wrap around my middle just under my breasts and he hugs me to him. His erection is hard and imposing pressed against my back.
“You make me forget what’s right and wrong,” he admits, shame tainting his words.
I turn my head so I can look up at him. His green eyes blaze with need for me. It makes me tremble in his arms. “Sometimes it’s nice just to forget everything for a little while.”
His mouth is inches from mine. I want him to kiss me again. When I lick my lips as an invitation, a low growl rumbles in his chest. It vibrates me to my core.
“Dorian…”
I twist in his arms so that my breasts are smashed between us. Lifting my chin, I meet his fiery gaze with a blazing one of my own. “I want to forget right now.”
That’s all the invitation the good judge needs.
His hand slides to my throat where he grips me in a possessive way. He lowers his mouth to mine and captures my lips with his full ones. Max doesn’t kiss me sweetly. This kiss is a whole bunch of promises rolled into one moment.
I will kiss you until you lose your breath.
I will own every part of your body with my mouth.
I will push my cock inside of you and make you mine.
A moan escapes me which seems to set him off. His palms slide down to my ass where he lifts me. I clutch onto his neck in fear that he’ll drop me. But he lifts me as though I weigh nothing. When he pushes my back against the gazebo side and his cock grinds against my pussy through our clothes, I cry out in pleasure. He kisses me hard in an all-consuming way as he works his hips against me. Each time his cock rubs against my clit, I shudder.
“You’re going to make me come like this,” I whisper against his lips, surp
rise in my tone.
He growls again which sets my insides on fire. “I’m going to make you come like this and then I’m going to make you come a whole lot of other ways too.”
The images running through my mind are filthy. Coupled with the way he expertly rubs against me, I lose myself to a volcanic orgasm within seconds. I start to scream in pleasure but he silences me with devouring kiss. When I come down from my high, he pulls from our kiss and stares down at me as if in awe.
I want to freeze this moment.
Forget about everything in my crappy life and let this sexy, powerful judge own my mouth and my body.
“This is probably all kinds of wrong,” he mutters. But his tone isn’t regretful. If anything, the way he watches me is wolfish. Devious even. It doesn’t alarm me because Max is a good guy. His dark, rebellious intentions turn me on.
“Then why does it feel so right?” I challenge, a smirk playing at my lips.
Slowly, he sets me on my feet and straightens my dress. “Let’s get those steaks started. But later tonight…” he trails off and his jaw clenches. His eyes roam my body again. “Later I will get to know you a little better.”
He stalks away from me, his long legs carrying him across the yard. I take a moment to compose myself and wonder if I should go change my panties before dinner. Heat floods down south as I remember his promise.
“Later I will get to know you a little better.”
If that’s his promise, I probably won’t be needing panties anyway.
“I’m going to Alicia’s for the night,” Sophia calls out as she shuffles away from the dining room table where we’ve just eaten the best dinner I’ve had in ages. Max is a grill master on top of everything else he’s apparently good at.
