Page 77 of Dirty Judge

“Thank you.” I handed him the keys and walked to the passenger side.

Opening the door, I unbuckled Olivia’s seatbelt.

She didn’t startle in the slightest; she was knocked out. Sliding my hands under her thighs, I lifted her up and out of the car.

Carrying her past the bellman, I walked to the elevator and took it to my floor.

“It feels so good…” She murmured as we walked inside my suite and I took her straight to my room.

I slipped her shoes off and gently tucked her under my sheets.

For some reason, she looked like she belonged there.

Shit.

Her eyes fluttered open briefly, and then she rolled over.

I was tempted to join her, but I’d fucked up enough for today. Hell, enough for the rest of my lifetime.

I hit the lights and retreated to my living room.

I couldn’t afford to let too much more idle time get away from me. I had to focus on Grant Jenkins.

New trial or not, I had to make sure he was put right back behind bars.

SPECIAL (ADJ.):

SOMETHING RESTRICTED TO A SINGLE PERSON, SPECIFIC PURPOSE, OR DISTINCT CLASS, STANDING APART FROM GENERAL RULES OR THE PUBLIC AT LARGE.

OLIVIA

My back was pressed against a cloud, and my skin was being massaged by angels.

At least, that’s what it feels like…

I rolled over in bed and opened my eyes, ready to shower and go to work, but the room I was in was not mine.

Neither was this bed.

Jerking upright, I gasped.

Where the hell am I?

On my left, the sun was slowly rising over a gray Manhattan that matched the sheets I was tucked under.

Getting out of bed, I rushed straight toward the door and down a long hallway.

I stopped when I saw Liam sitting in the living room, staring at a laptop. His robe was hanging open, revealing his abs.

“Good morning.” He looked up at me. “Did you sleep well?”

“A little too well…” I crossed my arms. “Why didn’t you wake me up and make me drive home?”

“Because that would’ve been reckless as hell,” he said. “You would’ve lasted one mile on the road.”

“Oh. Well, thanks…Um, can you walk me down to get my car now?” I asked. “If I leave now, I can take a shower and get to work on time.”

“I could’ve sworn I told you it’s a court holiday for the rest of the week,” he said. “You can shower here.”