Page 85 of The Woman on the Jury

I ordered dinner.

I waited for it.

I accepted it from the guards.

Then I waited.

And waited.

But I couldn’t bring myself to eat alone again.

Why? That was the question, wasn’t it? Because I’d eaten alone most nights my entire adult life.

The thing was… I didn’t want to.

I wanted to share a meal with her.

I wanted to talk to her.

To fuckingseeher.

Tossing back another drink, I found whatever control I had snapping as I stormed down the hallway toward her room, ramming my shoulder into it, and watching it swing open and smack against the wall.

And there she was.

Standing in the bathroom with the door open. Wearing nothing but a towel, her wet hair pulled up in a claw clip.

The sight of her was like a kick to the gut.

I felt breathless with the intensity of it.

“Get out,” she said, but there wasn’t any force behind the words. If anything, she felt as breathless as I felt.

“Enough of this shit,” I snapped as I stormed across the bedroom, crossing it in just a few strides, and standing in the bright bathroom with her.

“I don’t want to see you right now,” she said, but her gaze was on my chest.

“Tough shit,” I shot back. “I want to see you.”

“You can’t have everything you want,” she said, gaze still lowered.

“The hell I can’t,” I said, stepping forward, my hand grabbing the back of her neck, and hauling her against my body.

Her breath caught, but she didn’t even tense, didn’t try to pull away.

My lips claimed hers, harder than I’d intended, but the second she melted into me, the anger that had been simmering in my system just fell away. In its place was an aching sort of need that had my hands tugging at the tuck of her towel until the material fell to her feet.

A tremble moved through her as my hands traced down her spine, then sank into her ass, dragging her more tightly against me, my cock pressing against her.

My lips muffled a soft moan that escaped her as my hand slid down, slipping between her thighs.

I’d barely started kissing her.

But she was already drenched for me.

My fingers traced up her pussy, finding her clit, and working it relentlessly.

Until she was moaning.

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