Always (Family Justice Book 1) (39 page)

Read Always (Family Justice Book 1) Online

Authors: Suzanne Halliday

Tags: #Book !, #A Family Justice Novel

“So. What do you think?”

Is this the part where you hope for an earthquake or a zombie attack to deflect attention away from how far afield you were from what was actually happening?

Calder wasn’t quite sure what the fuck was going on. Throughout his entire monologue, the one he burbled on about with the finesse of a fourth grader, he thought she’d been paying attention. He certainly had her undivided attention.

After all but offering to wash her car weekly for the next year if she would just give him a chance to make amends for his sexist pig behavior, he hoped some headway had been made. Until he noticed that she was a million miles away. It was in her eyes. She might be looking at him, but he wasn’t altogether sure what she was seeing.

And what the fuck, man? Did he have spinach in his teeth or something? The way she kept looking at his mouth made him question his dental habits.

Then he in earnest became the hormonally challenged idiot boy that forever lurked inside every grown man. Words continued erupting from his mouth, but all he could focus on was the goddamn sweater the woman was wearing. There was something seductive about the way the knitted garment draped around her breasts. Far from being immodest, the cream-colored pullover showed little skin. Its provocative quality lay in how the clothing enfolded her body. And that scarf. It was nothing. Just a length of gauzy material wrapped around her delicate neck that was surely meant to drive him insane.

He could have been reciting a chapter from a tech manual for all the sense he was making and frankly didn’t give a hot damn. The nonsense he was spewing was just so she’d stay where she was—where he could see her and imagine all sorts of things.

Like wrapping an arm about her torso, up high—almost under her arms and gently tugging forward. Encouraging her to come to him. It was what he wanted. For her to come willingly. To surrender. And then he’d set about demonstrating other ways she could come. For him. Under him. On top of him. On her hands and knees with that sexy-as-fuck ass in the air. In the shower. On the bed. In his office chair. Out in the desert. The possibilities were endless.

He was going to have her at some point—it was inevitable. And he wasn’t going to just fuck her. Nope. Some other, stronger force was pulsing through him. Calder was sure that being with this woman would take physical intimacy to a new level and challenge him in ways he couldn’t avoid.

And then they both became silent. He stopped babbling nonsensical rubbish, and she started to come back from wherever she’d drifted.

Hoping to rescue the odd moment he muttered, “So. What do you think?” When she didn’t answer and only stood there mute, staring at him, he asked quietly, “Stephanie?”

She shook her head, her face showing confusion. He knew the feeling.

“Uh, what do I think?” she croaked in a strangled voice. Clearing her throat with a quick cough, the lady squinted at him as if seeing him for the first time. He watched her eyes drop to his feet then continue on a leisurely inspection that stole his breath until her gaze returned to his.

An expression filled with conflicting emotions claimed her face. What in the hell was she thinking? God, please let him figure her out, he prayed. And then she spoke and everything changed.

“What do I think? I want you to kiss me that’s what I think.”

He tugged her forward, arm about her upper back. She hesitated, then gave up and simply melted into his arms. Fisting a hand into her scarf, he used it to yank her closer. It was a possessive action, one he hadn’t thought about until he did it. They were barely even friends, but she was so far under his skin and inside his thoughts that Calder stopped questioning what he was doing.

In some weird way, this woman belonged to him. Hope and faith told him she was out there—somewhere. He’d been waiting a long time. Messing this up a second time wasn’t an option. Time to stake a claim.

“Stephanie,” he murmured thickly. “Kissing you would be my pleasure….”

So he did.

“THAT WENT SORT OF WELL, don’t you think?”

Alex reefed the polo shirt he’d worn over his head, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it across the wardrobe into a hamper. When it sank into the basket, he laughed and pointed. “I want ten points for that shot!”

She had to laugh. Boys will always be boys, no matter the age. They could be discussing a matter of global importance, but if something even remotely sports-like happened or if the standings on some imaginary lifetime scoreboard were at stake, point spreads and questionable skill levels always won.

Of course, the moment his broad, muscular chest was revealed, she had her own internal dialogue going on. Yeah, she hoped they were doing the right thing where Calder and Stephanie were concerned, but at the moment, her fingers were itching to get at Alex’s impressive masculine physique. Seriously. The man was one damn fine specimen of hotness.

Caught ogling his body, he grabbed her about the waist and swung her close—until her hips collided with his and she was left with little doubt what was on his mind. Keeping her banded tight against him, her hunky lover leaned in and swiftly tongued her earlobe.

“Went well? Yes. But that’s it. I’m done helping him pull his head out of his ass. If my uncle can’t figure out how to act like an adult, it’s his fucking problem.”

Meghan looped her arms around his neck and shimmied—chest to chest. She had on a loose silk camisole with a delicate and flimsy bra beneath and a pair of matching panties that she wouldn’t miss when they got torn off.

Kissing his neck, she left a trail of tiny nips and licks along his jawline. “I love Tori. She’s the sister I never had, and Lacey, too. Stephanie did an amazing job all on her own. I hope Calder steps up.”

“Me too, love.”

“Alex?”

“Mmmmm?”

“I’ve been thinking…”

He instantly pulled back and searched her face. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. I’ve just been thinking about something and…”

Alex swatted her playfully on the ass, earning him a surprised squeal and her a jolt of pure pleasure that zapped straight to her core.

“No thinking right now, Ms. O’Brien. All your thinking is done for the day. Now’s the time to feel. Just put yourself in my hands and let everything else go.”

“But…”

“No. Give your head a rest, sweetheart. Let me love you, Meghan. Forget all that other noise. Just you and me. I need you, baby.”

Now what was a good girl supposed to say to such a sweet command? Forget the noise? Let me love you? Goddamn. He was so perfect. She had something she wanted to talk about, but it could wait. The right time would present itself. Besides, when he got that husky timbre in his voice and she felt where her body pressed to his that he was bent on one thing, she folded pretty quickly. And easily. Nothing compared to Alexander Valleja-Marquez when he was moved by pure emotion. Nobody did it better.

Yesterday he’d asked if she knew he loved her and she’d taunted him that he’d said it that way because he was about to handle her in a way that love had little to do with it.

But
this
. Well, this was what usually followed after he’d been particularly demanding or had challenged her limits. One moment—fierce, savage, primitive. Next—slow, seductive, and intense.

Wrapping his arms around her tight, Meghan sighed and relaxed into the embrace. “No fucking tonight, my Goddess. We make love. I need you in here,” he murmured as he took her fingers and pressed them on the skin above his heart.

The glittering diamond ring he’d slid onto her hand when he asked her to marry him twinkled in the lamplight. She loved this man more than she thought it possible to love another.

Once he got started, she wouldn’t be able to speak, so she had to act quickly if there was anything worth saying. And oh hell yeah—there was. About a month ago, she’d had the delicate, engraved charms from the bracelet that had been his gift of contrition after they’d been apart put on a long chain that hung between her breasts. There, resting near her heart, nestled in the soft heat of her flesh were the twin hearts that said
Mine
and
Yours
. She wore the chain all the time. Liked the reminder touching her skin.

“I love you,” she murmured softly, her hands having found their way into his hair. Scraping her fingers on his scalp, she grabbed on tight for emphasis. “I love
YOU
,” she added forcefully. “You. My wonderful, sexy Major. My wickedly raunchy Thunder Cock. I love you.”

There. She said it. It needed to be said every damn day—maybe several times because the passage of time had only made her devotion and commitment to this man deeper and stronger. His integrity called to her through time and distance and brought her to him. She’d been his from the second they laid eyes upon each other. Even when he’d cruelly sent her away, when she could have hated him, Meghan had clung to this hopeless, helpless, all-encompassing love she felt for Alex. Whether the primal sexy beast or the old-school, well-mannered aristocrat with the heart of a true romantic—she’d die for him.

He stared into her eyes and saw the very depths of her soul. She was the luckiest girl in the world. To be looked upon with so much emotion melted Meghan’s heart. Gently tugging on the chain that lay on her skin, she caressed the meaningful charms and let the hunger she felt shine through her expression. “Yours,” she husked.

“Mine,” he growled in answer, as his big hands grabbed onto her butt and ground her body against his.

This intimate ritual was their private vows. Right here was the goddamn reason why she’d never, ever allow a prenup. It was all or nothing from the depths of her soul.

Answering his butt grab, she tugged on his hair, spearing her fingers just a bit more forcefully. “Mine,” she groaned as she lowered her mouth to his neck and bit him hard.

“Unf,” he grunted with a sexy shudder. She smiled. One good nibble and he was a goner.

“Yours,” he returned, passion evident in his voice.

She hoped it would always be this way, and if she had anything to say about their future—it would.

“Let me undress you, darling,” he growled on the surface of her skin making her tremble all over.

And he did. Oh, so very slowly. So slowly, it was like torture. Every single inch of her flesh was uncovered, stroked, kissed, praised, worshipped. He kept up a never-ending stream of comments in a tight, husky voice as she tried to remain standing and focus on his words.

He’d meant what he said about making love to her. He did. All night. Several times. Over and over until she was too spent to move. She’d writhed and moaned underneath him. Rode him like a true cowgirl as their simultaneous grunts filled the air. He’d licked her pussy with such reverence and passion that she’d cried. He’d made her come so many times she didn’t want to count. Big orgasms. Smaller, more skin prickling climaxes. Wild, slow, fast, and deep. They did it all. And then some.

When she was exhausted, satiated, drained—he gathered her close like a small child and wiped away the sweat-soaked strands of hair that stuck to her face and neck. “I’ve loved you from the moment we met.”

“Thank you,” she choked out in a small voice. “Thank you for loving me.”

“I will
always
love you.”

“HOW DO YOU THINK TORI and Drae are?” Lacey asked as she finished changing Dylan’s nappy and slid him into a warm pair of footed pajamas adorned with cute little teddy bears. Before she’d finished with the snaps, Cameron swept in over her shoulder and whooshed her son into his capable arms with a cheeky grin.

“They’re fine and let’s not talk about those two just now. I’m sure once Victoria vented about his injuries she’d go into possessive wife mode. It’s what he needs,” he sniggered. “Pussy.”

Lacey hissed her disapproval. “Daddy—you are making me crazy. What if his first word is…” She put her fingers over Dylan’s ears and mouthed the word
pussy
.

Cameron obviously found all this highly amusing because he let loose with a gleeful laugh, swinging the baby over his head and cooing in Dylan’s face.

“Pussy is a fine word. So versatile. So many meanings. I think it’s a good thing to have a broad vocabulary, don’t you agree, my boy?”

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