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She stepped away from the door and headed to the left of the fireplace to avoid the bar since it was clear Judge wasn’t in that mix. And as she rounded the fireplace and passed a knocked-out Dutch and company to her left, she saw movement in the back corner of the barn.
Her step stuttered, her heart thumped, and her feet froze in place.
She rubbed at her eyes. Was she so tired that she was seeing things? Did these types of things really happen in this place?
Apparently so, if what she was seeing wasn’t her imagination.
Ozzy, who she had also met at Crazy Pete’s, sat on one of those bus benches that lined the walls with his jeans down around his boots. He gripped a handful of long dirty blonde hair in his fist as the head, attached to that hair, rose and fell in his lap.
That alone should be enough to make Cassie think twice about being there. But wait, there was more!
Dodge—yes, Dodge, who she had to work with and look directly in the eyes when she did—stood behind the same woman, who was on her knees and bent over, as he was fucking her. Her denim skirt was pushed up and her top pushed down until they were gathered at her waist. Dodge was also smacking the woman’s ass as he thrust into her.
As if in slow motion, Ozzy’s gaze rose and caught Cassie’s. He shot her a warm, welcoming smile, released the nipple he was pinching and lifted that hand in a greeting toward her.
Before she could catch herself, she automatically lifted hers to return the wave. She quickly dropped her hand, broke eye contact and scrubbed her sweaty palm along her thigh.
What was she doing? Why was she even here? This wasn’t normal at all! Why would she want anything to do with people or a place like this? Where they shared women in public. Where the sex wasn’t special at all and women were treated like...
Objects.
Toys.
Sex toys.
These weren’t her people. She didn’t know who they were.
It surprised her because she had no idea Trip and Stella were a part of something like this. She thought the MC was a club, a group of men who rode motorcycles and were friends, not a sex free-for-all.
Would she even want her daughter to be around this? To see this?
She needed to leave.
As she turned, she noticed a door propped open at the back of the building and, from what she could see, it led to a long, dimly lit corridor. Where it went, she had no idea and wasn’t about to find out.
But her eyes narrowed on dark figures down that hallway. She could make out two people—a male and a female, the man not nearly tall enough to be Judge—pressed against the wall. And like the rest of the women she’d seen so far, she wasn’t being held there against her will.
Cassie grimaced as she stood watching the woman down that corridor get nailed to the wall. Nope, she wasn’t struggling to get free at all.
Maybe these women didn’t have it wrong. Maybe it was Cassie who needed to pull the stick out of her own ass.
These women were free to come and go. They chose to be there. They chose to do the things they were doing. No one seemed to be forcing them.
In truth, she had no right to judge.
Absolutely none.
Consenting adults and all that.
And, anyway, was she any better? She had been sleeping with Judge only two doors down from her own daughter. Not just once, but a few times.
Even with questions about her own morality, heat flickered in her belly at the thought of Judge taking her against the wall the same way that man, whoever he was, was taking that woman.
It looked hot and spontaneous.
Spontaneity had never been her thing. But with this new life she was building, maybe it needed to be.
Apparently, predictability and having normal life expectations—getting married, having a child and working hard—had been a mistake. Or at least, living a boring, typical life had made her oblivious to changes going on beneath the surface of her marriage. Or lack of marriage.
Judge was certainly not typical or boring. And nothing surrounding her right now in this barn was normal, that was for sure.
Where the hell was Judge, anyway?
She dug into the pocket of her winter coat, grabbing her cell phone so she could text him. If he didn’t answer, she was leaving.
As her fingers moved across her keyboard, she saw more movement out of the corner of her eye. Lifting her head, her heart seized as Judge came out of that hallway with his head tipped down and was talking to a woman with short, dark hair, who hung onto him with an arm wrapped around his waist.
As he walked, the woman with heavy, dark makeup had her face, wearing an inviting expression, lifted to him. He was so focused on her, he didn’t notice Cassie standing there, her phone dangling precariously from her fingers.
