Black Mustard: Justice Read Online Free PDF Page B

rubbed together again.
    “Like how you wake up, cher.” He liked a lot about how ‘up’ Loic was. Loic’s answer was another kiss, and one more, proving that Loic was right there with him.
    He’d started rubbing, started moving, when his phone started ringing. He didn’t even have to look. He knew who it was. There were arrangements to be made, media to contact, Modette’s story to tell. Hell, they probably had another court date Monday and...
    Loic tapped the tip of his cock, hard, and he jerked, blinked. “Hey!”
    Loic stared at him, one eyebrow lifted.
    “What?”
    That tap came again, then Loic sighed, kissed his nose, and leaned over and grabbed his phone, handing it over with a half-smile. He had the good sense to be a little ashamed. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just...”
    Loic snorted, grabbed his phone and started typing. “Shut up, asshole. I know.”
    “We need to make sure Modette’s taken care of.”
    “I know. We will.” Loic met his gaze, serious, right there for a long minute, then the fingers started flying again. “But I need to make sure Justice’s taken care of.”
    Oh.
    Oh, damn.
    He groaned, his heart doing this weird little pitty-pat thing that made him more than a little breathless.
    Loic nodded, then kissed him again, hand on his belly, easing him back, putting the phone down on the coffee table, closed. Quiet. That was right.
    It was Saturday. He didn’t have to do everything right now.
    He didn’t have to save anyone but them.
    ***
    Sunday was spent meeting with Modette’s family, making the beginning of what had to be a million funeral arrangements, and dealing with Sheila, the warden at the prison -- who, Loic was surprised to discover, was a gentle, dear, generous woman with a soft voice and a will of iron.
    Justice had taken the family to sort through Modette’s effects and he was in the office, checking over paperwork. Sheila smiled over at him, her eyes dark in her cafe au lait skin. “Can I help?”
    He shook his head, rolled his eyes playfully. Paperwork was the bane of any lawyer’s existence.
    “Thank y’all, for all you’re doing for Miss Modette. She was a special lady.”
    Loic nodded. She had been. It was a blessing, that the Good Lord had taken her before the government could make the decision to do so.
    He blinked at himself. He sounded like Justice inside his own head. Figured, didn’t it? That the man was sunk deep into his skin.
    It wasn’t like the man hadn’t been sunk into him ten ways from Sunday all day yesterday. Justice needed a warning label that read, “Stocky, but full of stamina. Use lube.”
    Sheila’s voice broke into his thoughts, which was probably good, given that the office at a maximum security prison wasn’t the place to spring a woody. “Is it true, that you lost your voice in court?”
    He shook his head, grabbed his iPad. “No. Before court. They call it Broca’s aphasia. It’s absolutely insane.”
    “Broca’s aphasia? Did you hit your head?”
    He shook his head again. “No one knows -- there were a series of unfortunate events that day.”
    “Unfortunate events?”
    Justice’s wry laugh filled the room. “Y’all talking about Modette?”
    Focused bastard.
    Sheila snorted. “Nope. His voice.”
    “Ah. It was hoodoo.”
    He looked over at Justice, tongue like led in his mouth. “Justice?”
    Justice grinned at him, looking like a huge kid, a big dork. “What? It’s true. Eloi La Bauve’s granny hexed your skinny butt. Got the Roubichoux’s too. It was amazing, well, barring the whole it didn’t get better thing.”
    He stared. “Are you insane?” he typed.
    Justice shrugged. “You got a better answer?”
    Sheila chuckled. “La Bauve, eh? They come from a line of folks?”
    Justice nodded. “Granny’s got chickens in her backyard and everything.”
    “Hoodoo isn’t real,” he typed.
    “Sure it is.” Justice grinned at him. “Doctors don’t have a better answer, do they?”
    He