Page 76 of Dirty Judge

“Hmmm.” He opened my door, and I winced as I settled into the seat.

“Here.” He leaned over and typed a passcode into both of my devices. “I think you’ve been punished enough at this point.”

“You mean to tell me that you could’ve turned these off weeks ago?”

“I definitely could’ve.” He laughed, and I had the sudden urge to smack the smile off his lips. Then I remembered how good he felt when he was deep inside me minutes ago.

I cranked the engine and looked over at him.

“On second thought, do you mind driving yourself home?” I asked. “I can’t really feel my legs right now.”

“Not at all.” He kissed my forehead. “Move over…”

RECIPROCITY (N.):

N. MUTUAL EXCHANGE OF PRIVILEGES BETWEEN STATES, NATIONS, BUSINESSES OR INDIVIDUALS.

LIAM

Olivia stifled a yawn as I pulled her car in front of my condo.

“Thank you for the ride,” I said to her.

“You’re the one who drove.” Her voice was soft.

“It’s your car, though.” I shifted the gear into park. “I honestly wasn’t expecting for you to have to use it on me anymore.”

“I believe you.”

“Are you going to be okay to drive home?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I’ll be just fine.”

“I’m not sure I trust you.”

“I got us here, didn’t I?”

“No, I did.”

“But I’ve been awake the entire time.” She leaned against the window. “I’ll be fine. The quicker you get out, the quicker I can get home.”

“You have to get into the driver’s seat to get home, Olivia.”

“And you have to get out first.” She shut her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

“Olivia—” I stopped talking as her soft snores filled the car.

I sighed and signaled for the attendant.

“Good evening, Mr. Ashton.” He opened the door for me. “How can I help you tonight?”

“Can you take this—” I paused, refusing to call this thing she drove a car. “This metal can on wheels to get detailed overnight?”

“You meanreplaced?”

“I would do that, but I think it has sentimental value for her.”

“I’ll make sure they do their best, sir.”