Chapter 22
twenty-two
GREER
I’ve often ridden shotgun to whatever mischief Allie has dug up.
The more sensible of the pair, I’m the one who remembers to pack sunscreen and fill up the gas tank.
I don’t dislike the dynamic, though. My cousin has brought a lot of color into my life.
Jude is a prime example. I never would have given him my number on my own account.
That being said, Allie’s sense of fun and adventure hasn’t always led us down the safest of paths.
When I was seven and Allie six, she convinced me to jump the barricade at a Mardi Gras parade to pick up some nice throws that fell from a float.
Our parents dodged and weaved through the Flambeauxs to drag us back to the curb.
While I cried over my mom's chastisement, Allie held up the blinking bead necklace like a trophy, wearing a proud grin.
While Allie’s sense of danger has matured, that spirit continues into adulthood. Right now, as Flinch marches towards me with murder on his face, I know Allie’s gotten us into a fix again.
“Where did Allie go?” he demands.
“She went to go get her friend Kira.”
“I explicitly said to stay here.”
“Allie is a little bit of a free spirit,” I explain.
The biker’s eyelid twitches. “Is that a pretty way of saying she doesn’t listen even when it’s for her own good?”
And now I see why Allie says he’s a jerk. A megawatt smile as fake as Dolly Parton’s hair finds my lips. “Did you need something?”
Flinch shakes his head in disapproval and pronounces, “I need you to stay put,” before leaving in the direction he came.
He doesn’t seem to believe I’ll obey because a baby faced prospect comes to stand next to me.
They said no gambling. I get it, but have I made a move toward the poker tables or a slot machine?
My mother always tells me not to act ugly when there’s no cause, so I bite my tongue and turn my back on them.
I get lost scrolling on social media while waiting for Allie to reemerge.
She’ll show up in a few minutes with an apology, some random item she’s found, and no Kira.
A warm body presses into me from behind. I jerk around, assuming it’s some asshole coming onto me. Breath warm against my face, he leans down until his lips almost graze mine and whispers, “Hi, Baby Doll.”
My heart starts to dance in my chest. Jude. “You’re back!”
Jude turns the stool toward him and flattens his palms against both sides of the seat. “You’ve been ignoring my texts. We need to work on your communication skills. I’ve been looking for you.”
“I told you that I’d be with Allie tonight.”
“You didn’t say it’s on Bayou Dog turf or that your dress is backless.” He skims his work, roughened palm down the exposed skin with a reverent stroke. It sends a flush of warmth straight to my core.
My voice is husky to my own ears when I remark, “I didn’t exactly know the club owned the casino, now did I?”
His eyes are heavy. “Well, you know now.” He leans down to press a quick kiss to my lips, then comes back again for one that’s long, lingering, and heated.
His erection is growing between us, impossible to miss.
When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine. “Let’s get out of here.”
Jude puts a hand on my hip, guiding me away from the bar.
“Where are we going? I'm still waiting for Allie to come back.”
“Somewhere we can talk. Flinch is going after your cousin.”
“Is he the one who told you I was here?”
“Yep. I was a little surprised to find out P.J. was one of the circuit fighters.” He gives me a “why didn’t you tell me” eyebrow lift.
“That’s not something I felt free to discuss, and I had no idea the Bayou Dogs had anything to do with the fights.” Allie over-filters all of her pictures before posting online, so it’s unlikely Jude would have recognized P.J. from there, either.
He brings me to the side of the building, through a set of double doors blocked by a prospect. They give one another a chin lift before the door is opened for us.
“Are we going outside? Because I can’t walk on grass with these shoes.”
Jude looks down at the ground and skips a measured step as he groans a low “Fuuuck…You were here alone wearing that?”
Looking down at the strappy heels, I insist, “They’re cute!”
“They’re ‘come fuck me’ shoes,” he accuses. The three inch heel is far from practical, I’ll admit. A plum colored pedicure sticks out from a wide black strap above my toes. Only a thin strap wrapped around my ankle holds the heels on my feet. I wear them because they make any outfit look fancier.
As much as I love them, they’re going to have to go out of rotation when Jude’s around. I’m unsteady on my feet, each step a result of concentration. It’s a mix of the pheromones Jude’s throwing off and the liquor…and maybe some excitement over the undercurrent I’m picking up from him.
After making our way through a walkway, Jude opens another door, and we leave behind the glitz of the casino for one much more stark. We make our way through a maze of back rooms until we find a storage area.
After leading me behind rows of metal warehouse shelving, he presses me against the wall and cages me in with the promise of carnal mischief flickering in his eyes. “You ignored my texts,” he accuses again, the gold in his hazel eyes flickering like the flame on a candle.
“I was trying to spend time with Allie,” I defend.
“And you didn’t want me to find out you were at an underground fight,” he deduces.
Looking down at my shoes, I say an apology softly, “It’s not my place to tell you, and I don’t want to outright lie.”
He rests a finger under my chin and lifts my eyes to his. “You tell me everything.”
If only that went both ways. But do I really want to know?
“I expected you home, ready for bed. I was ready to crawl under the sheets and pick up where we left off.”
“You’re the one who left while I was napping.” The words sound sour to my ears, the hurt I don’t want to admit to myself seeps through.
His gaze is intense, focused, and determined, making my pulse leap. “Did you feel neglected that I left without waking you up?”
He raises an eyebrow, questioning.
“No,” I fib.
He closes the space between us until it’s so close I can feel the brush of his clothing against my exposed skin. Narrowing his eyes, Jude smiles certainly, “You did miss me.” His voice rumbles like a seductive purr, and the frissons are back.
Something in my subconscious tells me to put on the brakes, that we’re in public, but the warmth in my center screams louder. I loop my arms around Jude’s neck and run my thumb over his five o’clock shadow. “I should get back before Allie starts looking for me.”
He trails his nose down my neck, scenting me, and whispers, “Have you been thinking about me, baby? I keep replaying us in bed. Fucking you raw like that, your pussy clenched around me tight. My dick gets hard every time I think about leaving my cum inside of you.”
His lips ghost mine as a wandering hand trails up my thigh. Reaching the silk of my panties, he brushes a hand against the crotch, laughing lightly when he finds them soaked. He pulls them off, then hikes up my skirt with eager hands.
“We can't do this here.”
Already working his buckle, Jude frees himself, stroking the broad shaft in his palm. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes is irresistible when he says, “We’ll make it quick.”
He lifts me up by my ass and commands, “Wrap your legs around me.”
My eyes go to the door, and he assures, “You can’t see anything in this corner when you first walk in, and my body’s covering you completely.”
Oh fuck it.
I wrap myself around Jude, and he breaches my entrance.
He works his way in with slow pumps, our lips tangled together in a kiss.
He tastes like mouthwash and smells like fresh laundry and shampoo.
We both start to pant as my body gives him entry.
Finally buried to the hilt, a loud feral groan escapes his lips, the grip on me tensing.
His cock twitches inside of me. “Feel what you do to me? Your tight little pussy drives me insane.”
“Please…Jude…” I beg, moving my hips to take him further.
“Can you come on my dick or do you need more, baby?”
“Keep going.” His thrusts become more fervent, his face hard. Shuttering my eyes, the familiar tingling in my core returns. “I’m so close,” I say in a breathless voice.
I can feel everything. The flush of warmth of his precum, our joint slickness, the silkiness of his erection, every heavy pull of breath, the crispness of his trimmed hair.
It’s sensory overload. Burrowed deep inside of me, he presses his pelvic bone into my clit and makes circular motions with his hips.
“Tell me you want my cum…Tell me you want me to fill that pretty little pussy full.”
“Please, give it to me…” He finds a sweet spot on my neck and licks just behind my ear.
It sends me over the edge, the orgasm making my body limp, but my pussy stays clenched around him.
His pace is wild and uncontrolled as he pumps into me.
He opens wild eyes, the gold flecks so vibrant they look almost cat-like.
His jaw cracks before he burrows his head in my neck and moans, the muscles of his abdomen ripple with each pulse of his release.
He throws back his head, gasping for breath, spent, then smiles at me like the devil he is.
His kiss is sweet, bringing us down from the orgasm high. I’m in that bubble again with him, all happy hormones, dirty talk and frissons. He finally lets me down and rests his forehead against mine, “Perfection. Pure perfection.”
I adjust my dress with shaky fingers, grateful the skirt is long enough to keep everything well hidden. “I need to clean up,” I say, trying to get my breathing to even out.
He gives me a long, lingering kiss that says that was amazing before looping his arm around my neck. “C’mon, there’s a bathroom down the hall.”