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“I’m shocked since stoners are known for their quick reflexes.” Gripping my thigh, he sweetened the pot, even though he’d already won—not that I was gonna interrupt to tell him. “Any house you want. We can even build.”
“Near the clubhouse?”
Giving a quick head shake, his words were guarded. “Not having my family that close.”
Guess if danger came knocking, we don’t want our family home right there for them to hit, too.
“But it’s a lotta land,” he said. “We’ll circle the perimeter and see if you like a spot.”
I tapped my fingers on his hand, pretending to think. “Fine. But you owe me.”
He smiled his wickedly charming smile.
Before he could say whatever filthy thing he was thinking, I reached my free hand over and pinched his nipple.
Less than an hour later, I was looking down at my first tattoo—a tiny gavel on my ring finger.
It was completely different, but still perfectly matched the crown Judge had gotten inked on his ring finger before the wedding.
I was plotting my next one as we paid and headed outside.
“Like it?” Judge asked.
“Love it. But I won’t be able to wear my wedding rings while—”
“Wear ‘em on the other hand.”
“Or I could wear them on the other hand.” Leaning into his hold, I looked up. “You’re a psycho.”
“Yeah, but I’m your fuckin’ psycho, princess.”
JUDGE
Two and a half years later…
“Harder.”
Fuckin’ hell, she was killin’ me.
“No.”
“Please, baby. I need it harder.”
Christ.
There was only so much my dick could take, and O’s soft, moaning voice begging me was far beyond that line.
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” I said.
“You won’t.” Ophelia looked over her shoulder at me, her blond hair wild and her gray eyes narrowed. “But I’m gonna hurt you if you don’t do it harder.”
“Violent.”
“Ruthless, too.” Her last word stretched into a moan as I pressed my thumbs into her lower back.
Digging deeper, I worked my palms and fingers up and across her shoulders before returning down to start again.
“You’ve got magic hands,” she sighed when I used my knuckles between her shoulder blades.
