Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Madison smiled, soft, dangerous, enough to raise the temperature throughout the entire courtroom.
When I leaned in to kiss her, fireworks exploded in her eyes. Teasing, she pulled away. “At-at, you’re on the good side, Sir Sentence-a-Lot. Anyway, I’m here to see if I could cut it as a criminal.” She tapped one finger on my chest.
Kiss denied, I played dirty too. I took her legs in my hands, unhooked them, and thrust her forward on the desk, planting myself between her thighs. Her breath hitched, and her hands gripped the edge of the table.
“Criminal?” I was a second away from taking that mouth. “Bébé, the moment you walked in wearing that dress, you committed premeditated arousal.”
Her lips brushed mine, a tease, as she whispered, “Didn’t know that was a crime. All that talk about the Fade twins? I won’t manage a life in prison.”
“Oh, you gone manage,” I said a few things in Kouri Vini, because she’d taken it there. “Don’t play with me now, bébé. You wanna be bad?”
My mouth found her jaw, then her throat, as she gasped and curled her fingers into my shirt.
“You gotta get booked,” I whispered, sliding her farther still, until there wasn’t an inch between us. “And bent.”
She trembled, laughing breathlessly in my ear. “Washington …”
“Come with me,” I murmured, guiding her toward the judge’s chamber, heat roiling between us. “Before Low Fade Loretta files a claim on that ass first.”
Her laugh was warm, flustered, and sinful. “Lock the door and protect all of this.”
In my chambers, I damn near barricaded the door. Not because of any prying eyes. She wasn’t leaving looking this good.
I planted her on my desk and pressed my lips to hers, kissing her for all those times I hadn’t in the past few years. The way her tongue moved against mine melted the stress off me. I stripped the robe to the floor.
Her hands fisted my shirt, and her kiss stole the sanity I had left. My arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her against me. I needed more. More of the taste of her.
I lifted her up and walked her backward until her shoulders touched the wall.
My framed diplomas and licenses rattled, then crashed to the ground. Okay, maybe I body-slammed Madison by accident.
“My bad,” I murmured, already spinning her gently so her palms met the wall. Her back arched, and her breath came warm and quick. “Lemme kiss away the pain.”
She looked over her shoulder at me, eyes narrowed, lips parted, looking like the prettiest woman at a police stop gone wrong. “Wait …”
I froze, my lips trailing over her shoulder, mid-kiss, mid-worship, mid-what I thought was everything and meant everything.
“Who’ve you been kissing, Washington?”
My laughter dropped so low it almost hit the broken frame on the floor. “You, bébé. Come on.”
I slid my hands up her hips, hiking her dress. When she spoke, her voice was full of playful suspicion. “I had to check. Boy, you’re kissing me so good I got jealous.”
I pressed my body against her back, feeling her soften and melt all at once. “You’re crazy, Maddy.”
She laughed, more tender than with her usual jokes, deeper than the fire burning between us. Love met lust when her eyes landed on me again, humor blending with the ache we’d carried since Shonda.
“I’m crazy,” she whispered, “but I’m yours. And I was thinking with you behind me.” She lifted her shoulder and then leaned into the kiss I planted on her nape, my hands already at work at the silk of her thong. “Maybe nothing happened, Washington. I didn’t see it. Nothing happened.”
I blinked.
“You’d better not let this reach Shonda.” Her smile turned wicked. “Because if she asks, we chatted feelings in here. That’s all I saw.”
She turned her face enough for our mouths to meet. After I kissed her, she murmured against my mouth, “And if Shonda asks why I’m glowing next Tuesday?”
I unzipped my pants. “I’ma tell her we made emotional progress.”
Her laugh broke. And when I pressed myself to her again in a way only she’d ever known, no therapy contract could stop this.
madison
. . .
Maybe I shouldn’t compare the fantasy-turned reality with Washington in his chambers to a police check gone right, but honestly? The shoe fit, and Momma packed her spiky stilettos in anticipation of more.
First, he had backed me into the wall so hard my spine threatened to file charges. Then he spun me around, lifted my hands, and planted them against the wall. My body hummed, eager for the Miranda rights.
Did Mad Madison mind?
No, ma’am.
But I was sticking to my claim. Nothing had happened yesterday evening.
He was behind me.
I didn’t see any crimes committed. And he’d never turn informant to Shonda.
Now, I drifted around my bedroom, smirk cocked sideways, still feeling that man all over me. From behind still the key words here. That man kissed me with the confidence of a judge who gave himself permission to violate the contract his own therapist made him sign.