How does that man always knock me off kilter? I think I’m going to do one thing and then I end up doing another. The other being what he’d thought I was going to do. You’d almost think Judge knows me better than I know myself, and I’m starting to wonder if he does.
I hit the knob to drain the tub before standing and grabbing one of the big fluffy towels. When I go in search of my clothes, I do in fact find mine in the closet. Except they aren't only mine. The walls and drawers of the giant closet are also lined and filled with new pretty things all in my size with tags still on them.
Seeing my old clothes there as well, I have no doubt my mom knew what was going to happen when she asked me if I wanted to go to town with her today. How else was all my stuff packed up and here at Judge’s? This really isn't shocking when I think about it. It’s something my mother would do. She thinks there is nothing wrong with arranged marriages, and it’s how things should be done, in her mind.
I take my time getting dressed and putting on my own clothes out of willful spite. I need some kind of control, so I’m trying to grab it anywhere I can find it. I’ve never had any before, and just when I thought I might, it slipped through my fingers like water. Water, which is now clearly my kryptonite.
When I make my way back down the stairs, I find Judge standing in the kitchen at the stove. He looks over his shoulder at me.
“Sit. I’m making you something to eat. We need to talk about something.”
“I think we should have talked about something a long time ago,” I mutter under my breath.
“That’s one, Kitty.”
I scrunch my face. “One what?” He turns the stove off before looking at me. His eyes roam up my body and back down.
“Make it two.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. But what we should talk about is how you don’t know how to knock.” I have no idea why I’m poking at him because I didn't enjoy being tossed into the fountain. I know he’s not one to bluff, yet here I am.
“Three.”
“Stop counting.” He strides over toward me, and I think he’s going to grab me and kiss me. My whole body starts to buzz when he lifts me by the hips and puts me on the same high-top stool as earlier today.
“Spankings, Kitty. I’m counting how many times I’m going to smack that plump ass of yours.” My mouth falls open in shock, and I see a hint of a smile tug at his lips. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
His big hands grab my face, and now he kisses me when I least expect it. His touch is soft for a man with rough hands, and I think about how they’d feel on my ass. His tongue slips into my mouth, and he takes his time lazily exploring me. I find myself doing the same and wanting to taste him too. I wonder what he thought of me when he had his mouth between my legs.
My hands find his shirt as I dig my fingers into it. It’s me that pushes the kiss harder and demands more. I slip my hand up his shirt and around his neck, pulling myself closer to him. He jerks back, and I gasp for air as we stare at each other. The look on Judge’s face is one I’ve never seen before.
“The things I want to do to you.” He shakes his head as he lets out a long sigh. “You have no idea, and I pray you never find out.”
My lips tingle as I watch him go back toward the stove. He works about the kitchen before he slides a plate of food in front of me, and I stare down at the enchiladas. My favorite.
“You made this?” I ask, taking the fork he’s offering me.
“I can make the basics. I won’t let you starve, but I can’t take credit for the enchiladas. That’s all Kelly.” With the bite almost to my mouth, I stop as I feel jealousy bubble up inside of me. “Kelly is a man. Eat. You haven't eaten since breakfast.”
“How do you know when I ate?”
He gives me a look, and I shove the bite in my mouth because of course he knows everything. It tastes wonderful, and I think I’ll like Kelly now that he’s a man.
“Jealousy looks good on you.” He sits down next to me with his own plate. I want to throw my plate at him, but the food is too good to waste. “Not that you have a reason to be, because I’m all yours, wife.” I believe him. Judge is a man of his word and steady as a rock. He’ll be a faithful husband, but that doesn’t mean I want another woman around him. I guess I really am the jealous type. Not that I want him to know that.
“I don’t cook,” I inform him.
“I know, but you bake, and it’s why we have Kelly.”
“I don’t clean either.” That’s a lie because I can, I just don’t like it.
“I have a cleaner. I don’t need a wife to clean up after me.”
“What do you need one for then?” As soon as I say the words, I wish I could take them back. Judge opens his mouth, but I press my hand against his lips to stop him from talking. I can feel his smile under my hand before he kisses my palm, and I slowly take it away.
“Eat your dinner and I’ll show you your
