Taylor nodded with approval and slid her phone back between her giant boobs. “The Pregnant One is pleased. You may relieve your bladder now.”
Oh, thank God. “Be right back!” Sarah straightened her spine and strutted toward the VIP bathrooms. She skidded around the corner, and a long line greeted her.
Oh, come on! It’s like a damned rock concert. There were never enough bathrooms at those things. The same went for airports. Why was that exactly? It couldn’t be a surprise that women had to pee and took twice as long to do it. And apparently at this club, they thought three unisex bathrooms would do the trick?
As a distraction, Sarah took out her phone and began checking messages, Twitter, Facebook, while resisting the urge to do the peepee dance. Okay, I’m not going to make it.
Determined to find the nearest planter, she shoved her phone into her handbag right when the door of the first bathroom flew open. Yes! She rushed inside, locked the door, and made it before the whisky sours ruined her night.
After finishing her business and washing her hands, she checked her makeup in the mirror. Her smoky black eyeshadow and false eyelashes were holding up nicely. The look made her blue eyes pop and gave her a sultry, naughty-girl vibe.
Yeah, I’m so tipsy. But I look hot! She gave her long brown hair a little tousle and nodded in the mirror with approval. Now go out there and get a hottie, b-day girl!
Sarah yanked open the door and crashed right into a monolith made of warm, solid rock. Wow, she thought, the palms of her hands resting on two chiseled pectoral muscles.
Her eyes traveled up, hoping the face would be as nice as the body.
“Oh crap!” Colton Young! She gasped and yanked back her hands.
She prepared for him to frown, spit in her face, or go on a rant about how she and the legal system were everything wrong with this world.
Colton’s eyes washed up and down her body, drinking her in, before his gaze settled on her face. He didn’t speak.
Yep. It’s me. Judge Alma. And I’m way too happy to handle seeing you right now. As impossible as it was, he looked even more stunningly handsome with her whisky goggles on. Flee for safety and find more whisky!
“Uh…excuse me.” She moved to step around him, but he stopped her.
“What’s your name?” he said, grabbing her shoulder.
Wait. He doesn’t recognize me? But why would he? It was a bit dark, and tonight she wore a slutty red dress instead of her black muumuu. She’d also gone to the salon right after work to have her hair colored back to dark brown and curled into tight ringlets. She’d also put on makeup. A lot of makeup.
As a woman rushed past them, diving into the bathroom, she pushed Sarah to the side, nearly knocking her off her heels. Colton reached out and caught her.
Christ. He felt so warm and surprisingly firm. And he smelled so, so good, too. Like leather and spices. Being wrapped in his strong arms felt like a sensual treat for her sex-starved body. Happy birthday to me!
“I’m Sa-Sarah.” She batted her eyelashes, conflicted by her urge to fess up to her identity and to enjoy him a moment longer.
“Sarah. It’s one of my favorite names.” He moved one hand to her chin, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Ye-yeah?” Because it seemed fairly common to her.
“And tell me, Sarah, are you here alone tonight, or has some lucky man already claimed you?” The pulsing lights past the hallway caught the golden highlights in his long hair, giving him a halo. He looked surreally beautiful tonight, like a walking, talking god of seduction.
She sighed appreciatively. “I’m alone—I mean, single—I mean, I’m with friends. It’s my birthday.”
He grinned, those stubble-covered dimples puckering deep. “Ah…well, happy birthday,” he said in a slow, velvety voice. “And what will you be wishing for this year?” He moved his hand to her mouth, carefully touching her lower lip with his thumb as if testing its softness.
She almost said “you.” Almost. But she was tipsy not crazy. Men like Colton Young were not her type. Men like him also dated gorgeous actresses, not serious, driven professionals with bodies that were fed on a regular basis.
Still, her traitorous body tingled all over. I’m tellin’ ya, he has superpowers. Why else would she be thinking about how she wanted every inch of his bad-boy body?
“I, uhh…haven’t made my wish yet.” She smiled coyly. “Do you have any recommendations?”
He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I’ve had a very bad day. And you are a very beautiful woman.” His hot breath tickled the side of her neck.
Her body froze, her heart rate accelerated, she could barely breathe. How did he do that?
“Me-meaning?” she stammered, her head a hot drunken mess, exacerbated by the scent of his delicious cologne.
“Meaning you can ask me for just about anything, because I’m in a wish-fulfilling mood.”
Her skin exploded with goose bumps, the space between her legs heated up with a throbbing ache, and her nipples turned so hard it was almost too painful.
Colton pulled back his head and gazed into her eyes, waiting for her to speak.
She instantly felt lost in their hazel depths. “I came here wanting to…to find someone—that was my wish. But now I think I want you.” Because now, just any warm body with a penis wouldn’t do. This felt good. He felt good.
“Me too,” he said with a subtle smile. The bathroom door flew open and he grabbed her hand and yanked her inside, eliciting some protests from the people in line.
Yes, there was a moment where she panicked, but her sinful hopes of what he really wanted overrode it all.
She pressed her back to the wall beside the sink as he reached for the lock.
“What are you doing?” she asked, but really meant, “What the hell are we doing?” This couldn’t be a good idea.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he replied.
He clicked the lock.
She knew she shouldn’t, but a part of her genuinely hungered to be that reckless young woman from so many years ago, before she’d had her heart decimated by a bad boy.
But Colton Young is not Billy Strongman. Still, they were cut from the same cloth. Or same leather. Sexy, sexy leather on such a ripped body.
Sarah teetered between aching for this fantasy and knowing it was going to bite her in the ass. “But we don’t—”
“This isn’t what you want?” Colton stepped aside, making way for her to leave. “Because if it’s not, you’re free to go.” Those hazel eyes—a mosaic of browns, greens, and golds—called her bluff.
Oh crap. Look how beautiful he is.
“Do you want me to fuck you or not?” he said. It wasn’t so much of an impatient challenge as it was a plea. In fact, she could’ve sworn he sounded vulnerable.
So hot.
Her lust went full throttle. “Yes.” She bobbed her head.
“Then take off your panties.”
“I’m not wearing any.”
“Excellent.” He stepped in front of her, grabbed her waist, and held her tight, pressing his hard body against her. “I want you to know that there won’t be anything else after this. I won’t remember your name. I won’t remember you.”
What a horribly unromantic thing to say. “Did I ask you to?”
He flashed a little smile, halfway between cocky and melancholy. “Good. We understand each other.” He reached down and unzipped the front of his leather pants. His long hard cock sprang out like a bazooka.
Damn. Sarah stared at the thick piece of velvety, long flesh throbbing in her general direction.
She gulped. “Tha-that’s pretty big.”
“Hope you don’t mind.”
Mind? Why the hell would I mind? “Works for me.”
Colton reached into his front pocket and whipped out a condom. Before she could offer to help, he had his rock-hard shaft sheathed and ready for action. He reached for the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to his, forcing their lips to coll
ide. Colton Young’s hot wet tongue slid inside her, licking, lapping and sliding.
Wow. If only they had Grammys for kissing.
He tilted her head back with one hand to deepen the kiss while his other hand reached behind her knee and pulled it up, opening her to him.
The only problem was distance. Colt was up there in six-two land and she was down here—a solid five-foot-seven including the heels.
As if reading her mind, he took his other hand and gripped her behind the other knee. With his strong arms he lifted, with his hot kisses he subdued, and with his hard cock he thrust.
“Fuck!” Sarah gasped, pulling back from his mouth and wincing.
Colton stopped, leaving only the soft head inside her. “You okay?”
She drew a breath and let the sting subside. “Yeah. I’m okay.” Mothereffer, that hurt!
“Good.” He pushed his lips to hers, allowing her to taste him—beer, mint, and something sweet—before he thrust his hips forward again and sank deep. She winced once more, and her body revolted. He was too big. Too thick. Too hard.
Colton sensed her discomfort and pulled out. “It’s okay,” he whispered between kisses. “I’ll find another way to please you.” His right hand freed her breast and kneaded while his mouth slid down her neck to her cleavage.
He made a little cough. “Are these cookie crumbs?”
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” How embarrassing.
“Your cleavage tastes like cookies. I love it.” He pushed his face between her breasts, sucking and licking, while his other hand slid between her folds and began stroking her.
He dipped a finger inside and circled her c-spot with his expert thumb. Her mind went numb. He clearly knew how to work with his hands. What rhythm…
Her heart pounding in her chest, she realized that while this felt incredible, she needed him inside her. She wanted the fantasy. It was all or nothing, and she was not going to get blue clit on her birthday.
“Let’s change positions.” She turned around, placed her palms on the wall, and pressed her bare ass into him.
Colton didn’t ignore the invitation and slid a thick muscled arm around her waist, the other hand working to find her entrance again. With one smooth stroke, he pushed into her, letting out a deep guttural groan.
“Fuck. You feel so tight,” he said, clearly enjoying it.
Glad you like it. Bench Kegels. And lack of action.
With her arms locked, she pushed back into him, and he began pounding into her.
Oh God. She savored the sensation of his balls slamming against the base of her c-spot, his dick sliding in and out at a vigorous pace. That feels so good. No man had ever fucked her like this.
Colton leaned over her, hammering her from behind, his strong arms holding her steady. With each thrust of his cock, she pushed back to meet him, controlling the depth with the angle of her hips.
“Don’t stop. I’m so close,” she whispered.
“Sarah. Fucking hell, Sarah.” He kept on pumping into her, angling the head of his shaft against that delicious spot deep inside. Colton slid his hand around her front and used three fingers to rub her c-spot in time to the movement of his cock.
She involuntarily felt her toes curl inside her spiked red heels, her hands clenched into tight fists, and her neck craned back. Over her shoulder, she reached for his mouth, and he kissed her with his hot tongue and full lips, panting into her.
“Harder,” she gasped. “Fuck me harder.”
He reached one hand to the back of her hair and grabbed hold while his dick pumped and his other hand rubbed swiftly between her legs.
“You want it hard, Sarah? You’ll get it hard.” His hips went from pumping to deep pistoning, pushing her toward the edge of pain and pleasure.
Suddenly, he pulled out and spun her around. “I want to look at your face when I come.” He covered her mouth with his and once again lifted her up by the legs, using the wall to pin her.
Her body felt more welcoming to his thickness and length. Now she couldn’t get him deep enough, couldn’t get enough of his heat and smell and ripped muscles.
So, so good. Without a doubt, this was her first real fuck. It was like tasting full-fat ice cream after a lifetime of frozen yogurt.
Oh God, is this what I’ve been missing? She would have to send grievance letters to her prior boyfriends.
“More. So close.” The tile of the wall dug into her back.
And then it happened. Fireworks.
Her body lit up, and his head whipped back. His hips pressed into her, pushing his cock as far as it could go.
He let out a raspy groan that pulled her deeper into the ecstasy of the moment.
She imagined him exploding inside her, his cum drenching her, and she melted into a euphoric nothingness—no body, no mind or thoughts, only sinful pleasure washing over her in racking waves. The muscles at the epicenter of her core clenched around his hard flesh, milking him with her contractions.
Oh, God. The pleasure was unreal.
With one final jab of his cock, Colton let out a sinful breath and rested his forehead on hers. “Un-fucking-real, Sarah.”
While her body trembled with exhaustion, her animalistic needs sank to the bottom of the ocean. The error of her ways quickly kicked her in the face. Oh no. Oh no. What did I just do?
Panting, Colton lowered her to the ground and planted a deep lazy kiss on her lips, running his tongue over her bottom lip.
She was too stunned to kiss him back.
He pulled away. “You okay?”
“Uh,” she bobbed her head, “yeah. It’s just that I, uh…” Shit. Shit. Shit. What if it gets out that I slept with him? I’ll lose everything. What did I do? The heavy doses of reality flooded in. Where had all this logic been five minutes ago? Huh?
She’d definitely lose her bench—she was the judge presiding over his case and everyone would most definitely see this as an abuse of her power. Sleeping with a defendant was a huge conflict of interest. Fuck. What did I do?
“I have to go.” She shimmied down her red dress and straightened out the boob situation. “Where’s my shoe?” Her heel had come off while Colton had been hammering her into the wall like a naughty nail.
“Wait.” Colton swiped a paper towel, peeled off his condom, and tossed it into the trash. “What’s the hurry? At least let me buy you a drink or something.” He tucked himself back into his leather pants. His hair looked like a sexy wild mess of caramel highlights and chocolate browns, like he spent too much time in the sun. Seriously, the man was stunning. And he looks all smug and glowing. Jerkface.
“No. I most certainly do not want a drink.” She reached for the lock. I’m so fucking stupid.
Colton pushed his hand into the door, slamming it shut before she had the chance to even open it. “Sarah?” His voice was low and gruff.
“What?” she snapped.
“Thank you. I really meant it—I’ve had a rough day—a rough year. You were exactly what I needed.”
Iiiick…Only a pompous rock star would think fucking a stranger in a nightclub bathroom was the cure to being a reckless asshole.
In reaction to what had to be a very disgusted look on her face, he said, “What?”
“You should try acting like an adult—I hear it works wonders on preventing your life from becoming a shit storm.”
Of course, I should talk, Ms. Justgaveitupinthebathroom!
His expression soured, and he reached for the doorknob, giving it a yank. “Leave it to me to pick the most judgmental bitch in the club.”
Sarah felt her face flush with anger. “Oh, you have no idea just how judgmental.” She walked past him into the hall, where a long line of patrons threw pissy looks her way. “Sorry, folks.” She chuckled awkwardly. “Bathroom’s all free now.”
A blonde with thick glasses pointed over Sarah’s shoulder and whipped out her phone. “It’s Colton Young!”
Sarah looked behind her
and caught a glimpse of Colton stepping out of the bathroom, jotting something down on a small pad of paper. A conga line of cell phones formed in the air to film him.
Dear God. Is he writing down a song idea?
She shook her head. Only a guy like that would find inspiration in what they’d done. And only an idiot would have let herself get swept up like that.
Flushed, sweaty, and thoroughly worked over, Sarah staggered toward the table, where Taylor and now Taylor’s husband and Sarah’s other friend Holly laughed and sipped.
Taylor caught a glimpse of Sarah trying to keep her Jell-O legs from collapsing.
“Hey! We were about to send the search party!” Taylor waved. “Did you hit the dance floor without us? You look all sweaty.”
Sarah stopped at the edge of the table, her head spinning, her breath still coming at a rapid pace. “Long line at the bathrooms, and the A/C is out over there.”
“I’ll ask Bennett to tell the manager,” said Taylor.
“So! Did you get lucky?” Holly asked. Holly was her other best friend, a blonde with a tall frame and long legs.
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Sorry?”
“The cookie. Did you get lucky and meet Mr. Right on the way to the bathroom?”
Sarah smiled stiffly. I got lucky alright. And I think I put the nail in my career coffin.
CHAPTER THREE
Monday morning, Sarah pulled into her reserved spot in the courthouse’s underground garage, unable to let go of the steering wheel. How would she get through the day? This was bad. So, so bad, and it would only get worse.
No, not an exaggeration. The entire weekend’s worth of brain power had led her to that fine conclusion.
On Friday night, after she’d had one more drink with her friends, she did the predictable thing and went home. Everyone laughed her off, teasing her for being a “lightweight” as a result of her “old age” and general “stick-in-the-mudness.” Everyone except Bennett Wade, who walked her out to a cab and took the opportunity to give her a piece of advice: “There’s no shame in leaving a few dead bodies in the road, Sarah. It’s your career, and if someone’s fucking with you, you have a right to fuck them back.”