Blood & Bones: Judge (Blood Fury MC Book 3)

by Jeanne St. James

  She let him because she was liking what he was doing a lot.

  Especially with his hips.

  And she could no longer think straight to control that kiss. He kept one hand planted in the bed so he wouldn’t crush her, and the other snaked between them, snagging a nipple and tugging just the tip, then rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

  She groaned into his mouth, gripping his beard even harder. After releasing one hand, she scraped her nails down his back and his muscles rippled as she went. She could only reach the top of his ass, but she dug her fingertips in anyway, encouraging him to go deeper, even though that was impossible.

  Even though he could go no deeper, she still couldn’t get enough of him. They both adjusted the tilt of their hips and her eyes fluttered closed at how good that felt when he hit all the right spots.

  She missed this. She had pushed it aside and now in this apartment with this man she was taking it back.

  Judge had awakened what had been sleeping inside her for years. He had sparked a fire that had been reduced to cold ashes.

  This man, who she never would’ve expected, had done that.

  Maybe he was right and tomorrow she’d see this as a mistake. A misstep.

  But tonight, it was anything but.

  Her hips rose to meet his, her head rolled back, and her breath puffed like a steam engine from between her lips.

  He did not let up. He did not slow down. He took her as he wanted to.

  And she didn’t want it any differently.

  It was like her sexual self had been numb and with each thrust he brought all of the feeling back.

  A deep grunt came from him and his pace stuttered. “Baby, ain’t gonna hang on much longer. What d’you need from me?”

  Again, he was making sure she was right there with him.

  And she was. Almost.

  “Keep going,” she panted, tilting her head to see his face.

  He almost looked tortured. “I keep goin’, gonna come.”

  “That’s the point.”

  “Don’t wanna leave you behind.”

  “You won’t. Just tell me when you’re about to come.”

  His hips almost slowed to a stop.

  “Keep going,” she demanded again, digging her fingers deeper into his flesh. “Almost there.”

  “Soon?”

  “With you,” she assured him.

  With a tight nod, he continued making the pleasure swirl through her. “Want it hard?”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “Fast?”

  “Yes.”

  “Come with me,” he growled and went back to giving it to her how she wanted it.

  She would have smiled but the movement of his hips knocked it right off her face.

  His pace stuttered again, and he released her nipple, planted his other hand into the mattress again and dropped almost all his weight onto her, pressing his face into her neck.

  His beard was scratchy, but it also scraped over her heated skin, making her shiver, his lips sucked the skin on her neck so hard she was afraid he’d leave a mark. He snaked one arm under her shoulders and the other under her hips and then he powered up and into her.

  Over and over.

  And... Oh... That was all it took to shove her over that edge.

  He was a big man, but somehow, he could move just right.

  She was grateful for that.

  So grateful she cried out when the orgasm exploded through her, curling her toes and causing her to hang on tight with her thighs, her heels and her fingers.

  He didn’t stop. He continued riding her wave, until finally...

  Finally...

  He tensed, drove deep one more time and groaned against her damp skin.

  He came so hard, she could feel him pulsating within her and just those twitches sent her spinning with another mini orgasm.

  And when that happened he lifted his head and stared down into her face, surprised.

  It probably wouldn’t have been a mini if he’d done what she asked. “You didn’t tell me you were about to come.” Even though her words were a bit breathless since she was still floating down from her high, she made sure he understood it was a gentle scolding.

  “Didn’t think you’d miss me comin’.”

  She didn’t, but... “But I wanted to know beforehand.”

  “Why?”

  “I like to know.”

  “Why?”

  Oh boy, he was persistent. “I just do.”

  His green eyes narrowed. “Cass...”

  She shouldn’t be embarrassed about it, so what did it hurt to tell him? “It... it turns me on.” Even so, heat rushed into her checks. Damn it.

  Sometimes it also made her come again. Like she had with Judge.

  “Yeah, well... Turns me on when a woman’s pussy explodes around me like yours did. Drawin’ me in, squeezin’ my dick. Makin’ me lose my fuckin’ mind. That’s why I didn’t warn you, baby. Had no brains left to think.”

  That was a good excuse, she guessed. “I’ll accept that.”

  His body shook and she could see him trying to fight a grin. “Will you now?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Yes. Since I have no choice.”

  “Promise to do better next time.”

  Next time.

  She wasn’t sure how many next times they had before she needed to get back to her daughter.

  But she wasn’t opposed to at least one more.

  Chapter Eleven

  Next time.

  It was actually after the third time, after he’d went to piss, clean up and bring her back a washcloth, that she mentioned it.

  He handed her the warm, freshly rinsed washcloth, glanced at the clock to realize it was morning and they’d fucked three times in three hours.

  He wasn’t sure how this was possible, but he still hadn’t had enough of her.

  No other woman had been in his bed this long since his wife. Usually it was a once and done for the night. The woman in his bed was a means to an end. That end being his balls being emptied. And his restlessness being quieted.

  Then she had to go. No lingering. Because after he was done with her, his loyal bitch would join him in bed.

  Jury.

  But, fuck, if he had it in him, he’d fuck Cassie a fourth time before the sun rose.

  At his age, he was just glad he got it up three times in the same number of hours. He had been crossing his goddamn fingers and toes hoping he could. He did and he was damn proud of himself. Though the third time, his dick had been on the fence on whether to cooperate or not. With a little encouragement and Cassie’s mouth, it had decided to play along.

  Thank fuck.

  He grinned as he approached the bed but lost that grin when she mentioned the colors on his back.

  He’d had them done at Trip and Deke’s urging but, at the time, he hadn’t been sure if he should.

  His father had died with those colors inked into his skin. Because of what those colors stood for, what they meant. Now Judge had the same and also held the same spot at the table.

  It felt like a bad omen. He had wanted to avoid walking in his father’s boots. Instead, he stepped right into them.

  He thought his life would be different. He’d raise a family—even if it didn’t start out the way it should—be successful with his bail bonds business, keep his ass out of the joint, and bullets out of his back.

  Once the club disintegrated that temptation to be pulled into mayhem was gone, which made it easier. Until Trip came home and resurrected the Fury. He dug up the past and dragged Judge right back into it.

  If it wasn’t for his cousin being enthusiastic about it, Judge would’ve told Trip to go fuck off. He didn’t need that shit in his life. He didn’t need to relive the past.

  He had been doing fine.

  Perfectly fucking fine.

  And somehow, he let himself get sucked back in.

  Because of that, his back was covered with the Fury’s co
lors. He’d had it done at the same time as Deke. His fucking cousin could talk him into doing shit he had no plans on doing.

  Like buying Jury when Deke got Justice.

  Like lying on that ink-slinger’s table for all those fucking hours.

  He’d almost stopped Crow—the best damn tattooist in western Pennsylvania, if not the whole state—from finishing several times.

  But he didn’t.

  He laid there, gritted his teeth and let the man continue, even though his gut kept screaming at him to put a stop to it.

  And when the Dirty Angels MC member was finished and Judge took one look at his back in the mirror, a sense of dread filled him.

  The path he’d wanted to avoid? He was now following it.

  But now Cassie’s fingers traced those colors as she sat up in his bed, the sheet wrapped around her like a toga.

  “That’s a lot of ink. Were you required to do this?”

  “No. Not a requirement but a strong suggestion. Loyalty is important in an MC. The tat shows you’re willin’ to be loyal to the club and your brothers.”

  “Has everyone had it done?”

  “Prospects can’t ‘til they’re patched in. The Originals, like Dutch and Ozzy, had it done a long time ago. Deke and I had it done recently. Trip did it before he resurrected the club as proof of how dedicated he was to makin’ it all work. The rest? Don’t know.”

  “So, no one might ever see it, but you know it’s there.”

  Yeah, he knew it was there. Every time he saw it in the fucking mirror. It reminded him of the responsibility he had taken on as Sergeant at Arms. Which wasn’t a light one. “It’s a reminder.”

  “Once you’re in, are you stuck?”

  “Can buy out your membership, but you better have a good fuckin’ reason. Or you can have your colors stripped if you do somethin’ stupid. Either way, gotta get rid of your ink. And anythin’ to do with the club.”

  Her warm palm pressed flat on his back directly over the center insignia. The bloody skull. While he liked her touching him, he wished it was for a reason other than what they were discussing. “How do you get rid of it?”

  “Depends on how you’re leavin’.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Either way, it ain’t pleasant. You go voluntarily, gotta cover it with more ink. Black it out.” He shrugged. “If it ain’t voluntary... Then there are other methods.” Methods he’d saw the Originals use.

  Fire. Acid. Blades. The offending member got the choice, but none of the choices were an easy one.

  “It would take a lot of ink to cover that up. Especially with the size of your back.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s just easier to stay.”

  “Death’s the easiest way out.”

  Her fingers curled into his skin and she sucked in a sharp breath. “But nobody wants out, right?”

  “Right now? Everyone wants to stay. It’s new. Shit ain’t got twisted yet.” He shouldn’t be talking about this shit with her. Club business wasn’t anyone else’s business. Speaking in general was one thing. Telling her specifics was another. Even ol’ ladies shouldn’t know details, and Cassie was a complete outsider.

  He moved away from her hand and settled on the bed next to her. “Gonna share that sheet?” He jerked his chin toward the sheet she was wrapped up in. “Or am I gonna have to cuddle with Jury to keep warm?”

  Her eyes slid to the digital clock. “I need to go.”

  “Got time yet.”

  “I need to get back before anyone wakes up.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. “What time does your girl get up?”

  She smiled. “Too early.”

  “How you dealin’ with that when you ain’t gettin’ to bed ‘til the middle of the night?”

  Her smile dropped. “Not very well.”

  “Sister helpin’?”

  Cassie sighed. “Yes. I feel bad she and Tyler have taken on so much of the responsibility. I need to find another way.”

  “Family’s there to help.” Family should always step in and help unless they were useless pieces of shit. If it wasn’t for his aunt and uncle, Deke’s parents...

  She stared at her lap. “Yes. Family is there to help. Still, Daisy isn’t their responsibility. And they’re trying to have their own baby.”

  “She’s good practice.”

  Her lips twitched. “They might decide not to have kids after helping out with my daughter.”

  “She’s got a sassy attitude.”

  Her expression turned pained. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “She got it honestly.”

  She twisted her head toward him. “Are you saying I’m sassy?”

  “Don’t know you well enough yet.” He wanted to. “But what I’ve seen so far? Fuck yeah.”

  She moved to the edge of the bed and began to unwind the sheet from around herself. “Okay, I really need to go.”

  “Should get some sleep here before you do. You go now, you’ll get none. Let your sister deal with your girl this mornin’. She’ll understand.”

  “I don’t want to take advantage of—”

  “Would you do it for her?”

  Cassie hesitated and glanced over her shoulder at him. The dark circles from exhaustion were easy to see. Keeping her up for the past few hours hadn’t helped.

  “Yes.”

  “She knows your workin’ long fuckin’ hours. Not gettin’ much sleep.” Why the fuck was he working so hard to keep her in his bed? He never did this.

  He was turning into a fucking goddamn sucker. Trying to keep this woman in his bed because there was something about her that he didn’t want to let go of.

  And if she left...

  If she left, they... he might never get this opportunity again. Because later today when the sun was high in the sky, she was going to realize her mistake. It was going to hit her like a two-by-four square across the forehead.

  She had a five-year-old daughter. An ex on the run. A temporary job and her life wasn’t settled.

  She didn’t need to be adding Judge to that list. She had enough shit to deal with.

  She had given herself a little detour with him for the past few hours. But Cassie seemed to be the type of woman to take that detour and then get back on track as soon as possible.

  For that reason, he wanted to keep her there as long as possible. Because, again, once she walked out that door...

  “I could use a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep.” Her expression was wistful. “It’s too early to call Heather, but I’ll shoot her a text to tell her I’m okay and...”

  “And you got some dick.”

  “I won’t word it like that.” She chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at the open bedroom door. “My purse is in my car.”

  “Know her number?” If she got dressed and went out to her car, she might keep going. He snagged his cell from the nightstand and held it out to her. “Send it from my phone.”

  Cassie took it and sent a quick text before handing it back to him. He tossed it back on the nightstand before he finished unraveling the sheet from her and pulled her luscious naked body against his.

  “Sleep,” he murmured into her ear, his arm holding her snuggly against him, his chest pressed to her back. He burrowed his nose into her soft hair and closed his eyes when she relaxed against him.

  Goddamn, this felt too fucking good. He could get used to having a woman like Cassie in his bed.

  Her husband had been a stupid fuck for doing shit to destroy their marriage.

  Though, Judge had done the same shit. But the woman he fucked over wasn’t a woman like Cassie.

  Did that make it right? No.

  Had he been happy? Fuck no.

  If he could go back, he’d do things differently. But then, he’d been young and miserable. And didn’t realize his mistake would fuck up shit so badly.

  Judge figured Lange was old enough to know better.

  Did he have a right to judge
the man? Probably not.

  Was he going to anyway? Fuck yeah. His name was Judge for a reason.

  He was judging that goddamn motherfucker’s ass. Especially when it came to a woman like Cassie. Judge could argue his wife, Jen, deserved what she got. Cassie did not.

  What he couldn’t argue was that his son and Cassie’s daughter didn’t deserve to be caught in the mistakes their fathers made.

  Judge knew only too well about the mistakes of a father.

  Not only him. But a lot of the rest of his brothers did, too.

  So, yeah, he fucked up and some might say he got what he deserved.

  Cassie and Daisy didn’t deserve the shit Lange dealt them.

  It put a lot of pressure on Cassie. So, if Judge could take some of that pressure off of her for a few hours, he was happy to do it.

  Plus, it wasn’t a sacrifice. Not at fucking all.

  She felt bad about leaving and not saying goodbye, especially after all that great sex. But Judge had been out cold, one long arm flung above her head, the other over her waist.

  She had moved slowly and carefully to free herself as to not wake him. Then grabbed her clothes and quietly got dressed out in his living area.

  She needed to get home, even though the two hours of uninterrupted sleep hadn’t been nearly enough. Unfortunately, she knew as soon as she got back to the house she wouldn’t get any more before having to get ready for work that evening.

  But it was her last shift before her three days off. Three badly needed days of rest. She just hoped Daisy would let her have some.

  As she turned the key in the lock of her sister’s front door and opened it quietly, she heard voices.

  And Daisy’s excited, rapid conversation.

  Her daughter always had plenty to say and was very opinionated about everything.

  It could be amusing at times, and other times, it could get wearisome. Basically, her daughter was a five-year-old know-it-all.

  Cassie snorted softly as she closed the door behind her and turned.

  She froze when she saw a few pieces of luggage parked at the bottom of the stairs in the foyer. There hadn’t been any new cars parked out front, and it wasn’t close enough to Christmas yet for Tyler’s family to show up, so she had no idea whose they belonged to.