Always (Family Justice Book 1)

by Halliday, Suzanne

  IT WAS UNUSUALLY WARM FOR late November as Meghan walked Sasha back to her stall in the horse barn, while absently picking at the buttons of her western shirt where sweat made it stick to her skin.

  She loved riding in the morning, although she didn’t venture far from the compound when she did. Still a new rider, Meghan got in the habit of doing a light canter along a well-worn path that kept her within sight of the barn. It was just enough to silence the noise in her head.

  Thanksgiving was just days away and she was stressing out. Playing hostess for the Justice crew was one thing—but what was being planned for a family dinner went way beyond what she felt up for. Sometimes the bald-faced reality of marrying into a family that counted their heritage in centuries was more than a bit daunting.

  A noise behind Meghan made her jump as she whirled about, staring into the shadows and darkness around the edges of the barn. Sasha whinnied and shook her head, pulling slightly on the reins she held in her hand.

  It took but a few minutes to get the horse unsaddled and into her stall. On her way out, she’d stop in the office where Gus spent much of his time and ask that one of the stable aides give the horse a good brushing.

  Meghan had taken a dozen steps away from Sasha’s stall when an arm shot out from the darkness and grabbed her by the neck, shoving her forcefully until she collided with a dense immoveable object that belonged to her fiancé.

  “Unf,” she grunted on impact. “Alex, what the…”

  “Be quiet woman,” he growled close to her ear. “You left our bed without permission.” His warm breath tickled her skin as prickles of awareness fired up inside her.

  Oh my, my. The Major wanted to play. It wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t ready. And willing. And most definitely able.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, enjoying the way his big palm curved possessively about her neck felt. She was hot, sticky, sweaty and very, very turned on.

  He grabbed one of her hands, pressed it against the bulge under his zipper, and held it there firmly.

  “You weren’t there to take care of that,” he drawled with a fierce growl for emphasis.

  Oh dear. A flood of warmth raced along her senses until her panties were soaked causing the jeans she was wearing to cling even more. Sometimes Meghan wondered if she was in perpetual danger of dehydration due to how often she melted and became a puddle of horny goo whenever Alex was around.

  Muttering darkly, she heard him say “impudent female” and “needs a good spanking,” as he dragged her along a passageway to one of the locked tack rooms where the vintage and expensive horse equipment was stored. It was all kinds of provocative to feel Alex’s hand never loosen its grip on her neck while he fished in a pocket for the keys that would unlock the door.

  Inside the dark room, Meghan was assailed with the scent of leather and the oil used to make the saddles soft and pliable. He flicked a light switch on that barely illuminated a long row of magnificent hand-tooled saddles hung from wood chocks on the wall and bridle racks high enough that the reins would hang straight and not curve or bow. Two sawhorse-looking objects, one with a saddle thrown over it and a bunch of low benches were littered around the room. Stacks of colorful horse blankets were almost toppling over on a table near the door.

  Alex marched her to a series of low-hanging hooks near the center of the room and picked up a length of thick jute rope along the way.

  He let go of her neck to make quick work of tying her hands together while she watched silently and tried to get a fix on his mood. Just for fun, she tried to apologize and was rewarded with a hearty smack on her ass.

  “Too late for that, young lady,” her alpha beast growled. Keeping the smile off her face was going to be a problem.

  With unerring accuracy, Alex threw the end of the jute toward the ceiling hook and caught it deftly on its way back down, securing the rope and, because she was restrained by it, her too. Yanking on the ends, he hauled her hands above her head until she was almost on her toes. Whatever this was, she was enjoying it already.

  “Next time, I’ll tie your wayward ass to the bed. And now, because you left me with a raging hard-on and made me come looking for you, I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

  He took his good old time about it as he unbuttoned her damp shirt pulling the tails from her jeans until it was hanging open. The air in the small room was quickly clogging with a mixture of lust and excitement as she whimpered and tried to swing away from his hands.

  This time when his big hand thwacked her ass for trying to get away, she jumped and yelped because, well—because it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

  Alex left her as he went to a wood chair with leather padding and pulled it close to where she dangled. The silver tacks holding the leather to the chair shone in the muted light. When he sat down and stared at her, she noticed he was holding a long, leather riding crop in his hand.

  It was disconcerting to be hanging there while he drank in her helpless state. Meghan’s heart was pounding as she noted his narrow eyes and the slight flaring of his nostrils—all signs of dominant Alex on the prowl.

  Her hair was loose and all over the place—cascading down her back and over one shoulder until the curled ends played with the lace edges of her bra. With each gasping breath, her chest heaved and the stark whiteness of her lingerie cut through the murky darkness.

  Alex used the riding crop to move some of the hair away so he had a clear view of her breasts. The feel of the soft leather end sliding against her skin made an honest-to-God moan escape her lips. It was kinda hard to miss the grunt of male satisfaction he let out.

  “I’m thinking—jeans off. That way I can tease your pretty pussy while you hang there, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Then you’ll know how it felt to wake up and want to fuck my woman, only to find her missing from my bed.”

  He sat there and stared at her while she squirmed when the words he used hit home. She was already so wet it was embarrassing.

  “Baby,” she muttered. “My mouth is dry from the ride. Can I have some water?” She wasn’t kidding and the request for water wasn’t a stalling tactic. He nodded and stood, running the crop from just beneath her chin to her belly button where the snap of her jeans lay just below.

  Capturing her chin in one hand, he brought her mouth forward and brutally kissed her until she was panting and shaking all over.

  “Be quiet,” he warned. “I’ll be right back.”

  Meghan watched as he swiftly exited the room, pulling the door almost completely shut on his way out. She wiggled her fingers to keep the blood flowing and danced around on the balls of her feet, taking in every little thing about the tack room. She even eyed the strange sawhorse-looking thing and decided that with a blanket thrown over it, the height would be perfect for what she had in mind. Hell, he could even tie her hands to the legs so she couldn’t get up at all. That would be fun.

  A minute passed. Then another and another. Figuring he must have run into the barn where a cooler of water bottles was always on hand, Meghan hummed a little tune and looked forward with anticipation to when her wicked fiancé would return. Her reaction to the riding crop surprised the hell out of her. She was in no way a masochist—any more than Alex harbored hidden sadistic tendencies. Their kinky fun times were more suggestive than anything else. It just ramped up her excitement knowing she was helpless while he messed with her.

  The door pushed open and she spun around, her hands gripping the jute where it was looped over the hook above her head. Only it wasn’t Alex standing in the doorway. It was a shocked and horrified looking Draegyn who was losing all the color in his face as he stood there, slack-jawed, taking in her appearance.

  Oh, my God, she thought. This was just too damn funny for words.

  “Hey Drae,” she chirped as if nothing weird was going on. “You’re back! Nice black eye, by the way.”

  The usually unflappable security operative with the 007 reputation was
speechless. And embarrassed. Meghan was trying not to laugh like crazy.

  “Um, Alex will be right back,” she told him. “He just went to get something.”

  All of a sudden, he whirled away so she was talking to his back. “Jesus Meghan,” he muttered. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  She giggled and said, “I don’t think we were expecting you back so early.”

  “Look, tell Alex I’m, uh, home. I’ll talk to him later.” And with that he all but ran as Meghan struggled not to dissolve in a fit of laughter.

  ALEX WAS HURRYING BACK TO the tack room, carrying two bottles of cold water and the riding crop. As he came around a corner at the end of the long passageway, he ran head first into a fast moving object.

  What the fuck? Draegyn?

  “It’s your own damned fault,” Drae yelled at him. “I do security for a living god dammit. Fuck Alex!”

  “Whoa, whoa,” Alex drawled. “Slow the fuck down and hello to you, too.”

  The dark, almost malevolent glare Drae threw at him got his eyebrows bumping together.

  “When a door that is normally locked is left ajar, I’m going to check it out, you dumb motherfucker. Just be glad I didn’t do it with a gun drawn.” Drae was practically unglued and barking like a mad dog.

  Alex shook his head. What the fuck was he bitching about? An unlocked door? Ohhhhh. Shit! Meghan. Glancing down the dark passage he suddenly understood why Drae was almost hyperventilating.

  Thumping him on the chest, Drae snarled again, “Your own damn fault,” then stomped away with a deep growl.

  Hurrying to the tack room, Alex pushed open the door and found his sexy fiancée dangling like she had a starring role in Fifty Shades of Barnyard Fuckery with a laugh evident on her face. Thank fucking God she was still dressed and all his brother really got an eyeful of was her bra, and of course, the way she was tied and hung from the ceiling.

  “Honey, I think Drageyn’s home,” she giggled.

  They both roared with laughter for a full two minutes until Alex closed the door and locked it, uncapped the water bottle, and held it to her mouth for a long sip.

  “Now, where were we?” he asked silkily.

  MOTHERFUCKER, DRAE CHANTED OVER AND over as he made his way back to the driveway where Cam was deep in conversation with Ben. All he’d wanted to do was quickly bring Alex up to speed since he knew Sharif would be in touch with the agency. Then he figured he’d be in the clear to seek out his wife and forget all about the rest of the world for a while.

  The last thing he expected was to stumble upon a half-dressed Meghan, trussed up and hanging like a….like he didn’t even know what. He wasn’t an idiot. None of them were. It wasn’t exactly a secret that the Major had a bad-boy streak a mile wide in the bedroom, but the last thing he ever expected was to see what that meant in the flesh.

  If only that damn door hadn’t been open. I mean, what the fuck was he supposed to do? Everyone knew that was the tack room filled with a shit ton of Marquez family saddles. Expensive ones, too. He’d reacted on instinct and gone to check it out. Now he’d have the horrifying image of Meghan hanging from a damn hook in the ceiling, her shirt unbuttoned as she waited for Christ only knows what. Motherfucker, he chanted silently again and again.

  “What’s crawled in your shorts?” Cam asked as he stomped up to him.

  Drae frowned and let out a tortured groan. “Do not fucking laugh,” he barked.

  Ben snickered and walked away, shaking his head as if he already knew. Since he was the driver of the Love Limo, he probably did, too.

  “Just walked in on Mom and Dad,” he muttered.

  Cam looked shocked and surprised then quickly had to hide his laughter.

  “What the fuck did I tell you?” Drae barked. “It’s not fucking funny.”

  Cam choked back a laugh and shrugged. “From where I’m standing it’s funny as shit.”

  “Oh, my God,” Drae bawled. “Now I’ve got that image tattooed on my brain forever.”

  Cam slung an arm around his shoulder and squeezed. “Dude, were they making babies or was it a practice session?”

  “Well, thank fucking God he was still in the bullpen warming up ‘cause I’m sure my eyes would be bleeding if it were anything more.”

  “If it was anything more and you’d actually laid eyes on a naked Meghan, he’d be beating your ass but good. Since I don’t see him bringing up the rear and chasing you down, I’m thinking you’re going to survive.”

  “Dude,” Drae groaned. “He had her tied up.”

  Cam burst out laughing and punched him in the shoulder for emphasis. “Don’t pretend you’ve never done the same or at least entertained the thought.”

  “Oh God, too much information, man. Too goddamn much information.”

  “C’mon, brother. Let’s go locate our wives. Can’t let Alex be the only one enjoying a morning wake-up session.”

  “Fuck, man. If it weren't so early, I’d be making a martini. Seriously, Cam. I’m traumatized forever. Those two…goddammit.”

  “Oh, come on, “ Cam teased. “You’re acting like it wasn’t you free-balling it in the Jacuzzi a couple of weeks back. And if I recall the scene correctly, when Lacey and I came upon you two, a certain pregnant someone’s bathing suit bottom was laying up on deck.”

  “Yeah, well half naked in a hot tub is one thing but finding your brother’s fiancé tied to a fucking hook in the ceiling is another.”

  “A hook in the ceiling, you say? Hmmmmm. Sounds convenient.”

  Then the hilarity of the situation finally made its way into Drae’s head. It really was funny as shit. And the way Cameron was taking it all in his stride made it even funnier. Victoria was going to love this story.

  Speaking of which. Where was his beautiful wife? He’d practically cattle prodded Sawyer to get them in the air and home at the first possible moment. He hadn’t been kidding last night when he’d admitted to Victoria that he was lost without her. Right now, he just wanted to feel her in his arms. And nothing, not Mom and Dad doing the hanky panky, or a couple of bruised ribs, was going to keep him from doing just that.

  AFTER STRAIGHTENING UP FROM HER solitary dinner, Stephanie looked around the big, empty kitchen and sighed. She was going to have to find something to do now that her son-in-law had returned.

  When Draegyn had come bursting into the house, she and Tori had been hunkered down at the dining room table mid-morning, addressing envelopes from a Christmas card list.

  The joy that radiated off her daughter the second she heard her husband’s voice had tugged at Stephanie’s emotions. And Draegyn. Oh, my word. He looked like hell with a nasty dark bruise on his cheek and the remnants of a black eye, but the way he reacted when Victoria lumbered up from her seat had brought tears to her eyes. He’d hollered, “Where’s my wife?” as he exploded on the scene, tossing an overnight bag on the floor and rushing forward to scoop Tori into a bold embrace.

  There hadn’t been a lot for her to do ever since. Without so much as a glance in her direction, the husband and wife had disappeared into their master suite with Tori berating Draegyn the whole way there for hiding his injuries from her. Stephanie had caught a glimpse of his face as her daughter rambled on and was surprised to see happiness in his expression. Bitching and sniping at each other was just what they did.

  She didn’t realistically expect to see either of them again until the next day unless she stumbled upon Drae in the kitchen on a munchies run. Wanting to give them their privacy, she’d made use of the gym, visited with Carmen, and took Raven for a long walk. Dinner alone was no big deal, but she was starting to get restless. And bored.

  Picking up her phone, she texted Meghan asking if she needed any help at the house—especially since Thanksgiving was the day after tomorrow. She got an answer right away with Meghan and Alex asking her to ride up to the Villa to share some chocolate chip cookies Ria had just baked. Seemed like an odd request but she wanted to get out of the house. So she slipped on a p
air of boots, threw a shawl around her shoulders, whistled for the puppy to join her, and marched off into the driveway to board the Peach-Mobile for the short ride to the main house.

  With her new best friend Raven by her side, they ambled along in the twilight, the silence of the desert at night broken only by the low whir of the cart.

  Meghan met her at the door with a huge grin. She reached down and scratched Raven behind the ears as she took hold of Stephanie’s arm and led them into the house.

  “Oh, my God, Stephanie. You’ll never guess! Carmen and Gus went to the movies in town. No, seriously!” she babbled on a high when Stephanie looked at her clearly doubtful. “He showed up right before dinner and mumbled something about superheroes. Next thing we know, he’s telling Carmen about some million-year-old comic book he has that’s a collector’s item. When she laughed and told him she liked the Iron Man movie, it was game on from there on out.”

  “Well, it’s about damn time, don’t you think?” she remarked gleefully. “Did she make him squirm?”

  “Fuck, no,” Meghan chuckled. “She practically tackled his ass the minute the offer was made—then whoosh—away they went.”

  In the humongous kitchen, she found Alex puttering about looking every inch contented. He was becoming a walking advertisement for domesticated alpha. Just the right amount of swagger and a huge dollop of infatuation with the woman he so wisely convinced to marry him. The two were obnoxiously adorable.

  “Alex, honey, tell Stephanie how funny Gus was.”

  The Major shrugged off Meghan’s mirth with an eye roll as he leaned in to kiss Stephanie on the cheek. “Of course you women would find it funny that he’s been reduced to acting like a pussy.”

  Stephanie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly, Alex, tossing Carmen’s butt over his shoulder caveman style was only going to end with Gus’s balls in a brown paper bag. He had to make some sort of a move. Rather a pussy than a crotchety old lonely guy ‘cause he didn’t take a chance.”