Quit Bein' Ugly (The Southern Gentleman 3)

I was so lost in my thoughts—which happened to be pushing him down in that leather chair on his side of the courtroom, pulling off my jeans, and sliding myself down onto his hard cock—that I didn’t even know he was right in front of me until he touched my cheek.

“You okay?”

I blinked at Croft’s husky words.

I started fanning myself with a piece of paper that I’d seen in the seat next to me. “Sure.”

His eyes took in my flushed chest, my reddened cheeks, and the way I was panting.

“You don’t look okay,” he murmured as he inspected me.

I licked my lips, my eyes dragging down the length of Croft’s body.

God.

I wanted to ride him like I stole him.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” I found myself saying. “You’re so confident and hot up there, as if you were born to be there.”

His eyes went lazy and hot as he said, “Thanks.”

“Are you okay?” I asked, gesturing toward his shoulder.

He grimaced. “It’s starting to hurt pretty badly again.”

I patted my purse. “You got somewhere I can look at it? I have a couple of your pain pills in here, too.”

He jerked his head up in a nod. “I do.”

He held his hand out for me to take, and I did, my hand sliding smoothly into his.

His hand was big, warm, and practically engulfed mine as he helped me to my feet.

I tried not to put any weight into his hand at all as I stood, which ended up with me brushing against his front.

That’s when I felt his cock.

It was hard.

I’d been so preoccupied with not looking at it, not giving away what I was feeling, that I’d not been paying attention to how he was feeling.

He didn’t stiffen or pull away, and in fact leaned further into me when I had no other choice but to brush by him to get out into the aisle.

Taking my hand, he led me to the door of the courtroom and down a long corridor.

I spied the bathroom and was surprised when he walked right past it and continued on as if he hadn’t seen it.

“That was…”

“We’re not going to that one. If I have to take my shirt off, then I’m going to the one that’s less frequently used,” he muttered.

He had a point.

If he didn’t want to be seen, I wouldn’t go to the closer one either.

But the one that was less frequently used was actually so far at the back of the building that I was surprised he’d even known it was there.

“Um,” I said as he pulled me into the men’s side of the restroom. “How did you know this was here?”

He looked at me.

“Do you really want to know how?” he asked.

I wasn’t sure.

The way he put it, I had a feeling that it had a lot to do with a woman.

And if that was the case, then no, I did not want to know.

I mean, logically I knew that Croft wasn’t a monk. He’d dated quite a few people since I’d known him.

But if he so much as said anything about bringing a girl in here… I just might murder him.

“Yes,” I said, even though my stomach was flipping.

“Okay, so I ate a bad burrito at lunch…” he started.

I held up my hand. “Never mind.”

“No, you’re hearing it all,” he said. “You asked and…”

“No, really. I thought it had something to do with a girl,” I blurted.

Because, although I really thought Croft was hot, there was no way in hell that I was going to talk to him about bodily functions such as the one where he was going with his burrito story.

He laughed and reached past me to open the door to the men’s room.

I looked inside and was startled to see that it was only a two-person bathroom.

Or, at least, there were two stalls.

“You know,” I said. “Y’all get all this extra shit.” I pointed at the four urinals that were lined against the wall. “Then we women have to go into the bathroom with the two stalls. And you wonder why it takes us two and three times as long.”

He looked around. “Your bathroom really only has two?”

“Probably. Or three, if there’s a stall where your urinals are,” I pointed. “Take your shirt off.”

He did, unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.

I swallowed hard when my eyes were automatically brought to his crotch.

He was wearing bright red underwear today, so there was no other choice but to look due to the differences between the black pants over top of them.

“Stop looking at my dick,” he ordered.

I started to think about that kiss that we’d shared earlier, the one that’d been so hot that I’d been wet since we’d left his house.

“Stop,” he growled.

My eyes flashed to his, and I wasn’t even embarrassed that I’d been caught.