Judge of Hell (Hell Night 3)

I grin widely. “I know it is. Now,” I pat his chest and step back, “go take Susan out and have a good time. I don’t expect you back before morning.”

With a wink, I spin on my heel and march to the kitchen, hearing his laughter behind me. Maisy’s sitting at the table, her thighs wedged against her chest as her heels balance on the edge of the seat. One hand holds a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, while the other hovers over her Kindle, ready to swipe it to the next page of the book she’s reading.

On the way to the fridge, I stop by and press a kiss to the top of her head. Too absorbed in her book, she remains oblivious to my presence. A small laugh escapes me. Just like most kids, when Maisy’s focused on something, everything else ceases to exist. I’m just glad it’s books that captures her attention so profoundly.

Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I pour tea over ice and put the pitcher back in the fridge. I softly run my fingers over the back of Maisy’s head as I pass by her again. When I approach Judge’s office door, I rap my knuckles against the wood once before pushing it open. His chair squeaks as he swivels around.

“Hey. Brought you some ice tea.”

As soon as the glass touches his desk, I’m yanked onto his lap sideways. I giggle as I wrap one arm around his shoulders and grab my wrist with my other hand.

“Gimme that mouth,” he grunts, tugging me forward with a hand on the back of my head. His growl reverberates against my lips, the husky sound combined with the enticing taste of him making me squirm in his lap.

I smile lazily at him once we pull back. “You about done? There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

He releases his grip on my hip and closes his laptop. “I am now.”

I chew on my lip, wondering how I should approach the subject, but decide to just spit it out.

“Declan asked if he could stay here for another week or two, and I told him yes.”

“Why does he want to stay? Doesn’t he have a job to get back to?”

I run my fingers through the small hairs on the back of his neck. “He’s been seeing Susan, and I think he’s reluctant to leave until he sees where it goes. And his job can be done mostly through phone calls and his laptop. He’ll eventually have to leave though, because he does need to go into the office occasionally.”

I try to gauge his reaction. I understand his need to protect the town and its secrets, but really, how often is a crime committed that requires Judge and his brothers to… kill people? That thought gives me pause, and I make a mental note to ask that question later.

Goose bumps appear on my arms when his fingers lightly graze over the sliver of exposed flesh between where my shirt ends and my shorts begin. Is he doing it on purpose? I narrow my eyes when his fingers slide further under my shirt.

“Tell him he can stay for as long as he’d like.”

I frown, not having expected him to give in so easily. I figured he’d at least put up a little bit of a fight. “Really?”

His mouth kicks up on one side. “Really.”

Before I can ask him if he’s feeling okay, he shoves his face into the crook of my neck, sliding his nose along the skin and inhaling deeply. His hand snakes its way further under my shirt, his big fingers wrapping around my ribs and his thumb swiping against the lace of my bra on the underside of my breast.

I moan and lean into his touch, suddenly ravenous for more. Of course, the most we can do is some light petting with Maisy awake and here in the house, but I’m totally fine with that.

I shift my ass, making sure to wiggle over the hard bulge underneath it.

He groans and tucks the tip of his thumb beneath my bra.

“You drive me mad, woman,” he growls against my neck. “Sit still or I’m dragging you to the bathroom and bending you over the sink.”

My giggle is strained, and I’m just about to tell him I’m okay with that idea when a loud banging comes from the front door.

“Shit,” he mutters, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. “I hate whoever’s behind that door right now.”

I laugh and wiggle my way off his lap. His head lifts, and I bend down for a quick kiss, murmuring against his lips, “We’ll finish what we started later.”

He pinches my backside, and I yelp. “Damn straight we will.”

The banging comes again, but this time it’s louder and sounds frantic. I dart my eyes to the doorway and look back at Judge, my brows jumping up.

With a scowl, he jackknifes out of the chair and stalks out of the room. I follow behind him, almost jogging to keep up with his long strides. He yanks open the door, and a woman immediately falls into his arms. I rush over to them and realize it’s Sierra. A horrified gasp leaves my lips at the condition she’s in.

Bruises of all colors mark her face and arms, and there’s a trail of blood coming from the corner of her mouth. There’s also a cut above her eyebrow.