Before she could respond, a child’s shriek, fill with terror, came from next door. “Mista Brophy! Mista Brophy!”
He flew from the lounge and ran out the door of the screen house to the fence. The tears and expression on little McKenna Long’s face had the hair on the back of his neck standing up. “McKenna, honey, what’s wrong?”
As Fancy joined them, the little girl answered through her sobs, “M-mommy. . .she on. . .the floor. . .s-sleeping and. . .and won’t wake up!”
Shit! Placing his hands on the top of the fence, he said, “Fancy, call 911. She’s a diabetic.”
Not waiting for a response, he vaulted over the fence and ran barefoot and shirtless through his neighbor’s open back door. The sight greeting him almost broke his heart. Amy Long was lying on the living room floor with little Taylor crying and shaking her mother’s shoulders trying to wake her. Kneeling down, he checked Amy’s breathing and pulse. No problems there, but her pale and sweaty skin, in addition to her unconsciousness, were positive signs of being in diabetic shock.
Brody hurried to the kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator door. Orange juice, perfect. He searched through the cabinets, found a glass, and poured the juice into it. Then he spotted a sugar bowl on the counter by the coffee machine. Even better. Taking both the bowl and juice, he rushed back to Amy. Fancy was standing nearby talking on her cell phone with the 911 operator, telling them what was going on, while McKenna and Taylor each clutched one of her legs in fear. Brody gave them a quick reassuring smile. “It’s going to be okay, girls. Just stay there with Ms. Fancy.”
Using his fingers, he took some of the granulated sugar and placed it under Amy’s tongue and along her gums. The orange juice wasn’t a good option until she came around a little bit and could drink it without choking. Come on, Amy. Wake up.
A relieved sigh escaped him when her head started moving slowly as the sugar was absorbed into her bloodstream. Putting a hand behind her neck and shoulders, he sat her up a little and held the glass to her lips. “Here we go, Amy. Take a sip, sweetheart.”
As her glucose levels gradually increased, she seemed to finally understand what he was saying and drank some of the juice, spilling some on her shirt, but it was better than the alternative. By the time, the police and paramedics pulled up, Amy was more alert and holding the glass on her own. Brody stood up and let the professionals take over. He stepped over to where Fancy was doing her best to soothe the little girls. Kneeling before them, he held open his arms and they jumped into them, hugging him tightly. “Mommy’s going to be okay, girls. Everything will be all right.”
“You a ’ero, Mista Brophy,” Taylor said, pulling back a little to look at him before giving him a peck on the cheek.
McKenna put her little hand on his other cheek. “Uh-huh, a ’ero! Mommy’s ’ero!”
No matter who you are, when little four-year-old twins kissed your cheeks and called you a hero, you just have to grin from ear-to-ear. “Well, thank you, but you’re Mommy’s heroes, too. Actually, you’re heroines because you did what you were supposed to do and got her help.”
“We tried to call 911, like Mommy showed’d us,” Taylor informed him. “B-But we couldn’t find her phone and the one in the kitten is broked.”
It took him a second to translate that last part as the phone in the kitchen was broken. “Well, while the paramedics take care of Mommy, why don’t we look for her cell phone so we can call your daddy and let him know what happened.”
“Brody. . .” He glanced at Amy, now sitting on the couch, to see the missing phone was in her hand. “It was in my pocket. Sorry.”
Relieved she was okay—embarrassed, but okay—he took it from her and said, “No worries. Do you want me to call Kevin and let him know what’s going on?”
Reluctantly she nodded as a medic checked her vital signs. “Please. My doctor is going to have to adjust my insulin. The dosage I’m on isn’t cutting it anymore. This was my third sugar dump this week, although the other two weren’t as bad and Kevin was home.”
After getting ahold of Amy’s husband and assuring him she was okay, Brody told him to meet his wife at the emergency room and not to worry about the girls. Fancy was helping them get their bathing suits and arm flotation thingies, while the medics were preparing Amy for transport. Brody hadn’t missed how the wet-behind-the-ears cop, who’d responded to the emergency, had eyed Fancy in her tankini as the children led her to their room.
Brody loudly cleared his throat, and when the uniformed man saw his glaring, possessive expression, the bastard had the audacity to shrug. “I’d be dead if I didn’t appreciate a fine-looking woman like that.”
“You’ll be dead if you do it again,” he growled.
The younger man grinned and held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll let it slide that you just threatened a cop, but damn, you’re a lucky guy.”
And Brody knew it. Since she’d purged her soul to him about the accident and her loss, she’d seemed lighter, more open and free. She was smiling all the time now as if the last of the grief holding her back from enjoying life had finally lifted. The results made her even more attractive, and men who may not have given the curvy woman a second glance over the past few years were now taking notice of what they had been missing. It was almost as she was going through a second blossoming into womanhood. And there was no way he was letting her slip through his fingers—not when jackasses like this were waiting in the wings for a chance at her.
Chapter 16
“Tank you, Miff Fancy.”
“You’re welcome, Taylor,” Fancy responded as she pushed the plate with a cut-up hotdog on it in front of the little brown-haired girl. McKenna had just received her own cut-up meal from Brody. It hadn’t taken Fancy long to tell the twins apart. In addition to being fraternal, not identical twins, the girls’ personalities were like night and day. Taylor was quieter than her sister and seemed to analyze and think things through before taking any action. McKenna, on the other hand, was boisterous and plunged headfirst into any situation. In the pool earlier, McKenna had been delighted when Brody had repeatedly lifted her out of the water, high in the air, before letting her plummet back in again. Taylor wasn’t the daredevil her sister was and preferred to just wade in the shallow end with Fancy.
It’d been the first time since her accident and miscarriage she’d spent more than a few minutes in the company of a child, much less two children. It wasn’t that she didn’t love little kids, they were just a reminder of what she’d lost. But Taylor and McKenna had quickly won her over, and they’d all had a great time in the pool.
When the waterlogged crew had gotten out and toweled off, Brody had retrieved a package of hotdogs from the Long’s refrigerator and thrown them on the grill with the chicken breasts he’d prepared for Fancy and him. While the girls hadn’t been fans of the romaine lettuce in the accompanying salad, they had both scarfed down most of the cherry tomatoes and cucumber slices with gusto.
It was almost 3:00 p.m. when the girls’ parents arrived home from the hospital. Amy gave Fancy a grateful hug and apologized profusely for ruining her day off. But Fancy wouldn’t hear any of it. “I’m just glad we were here and that you’re all right. The girls are adorable, and we had so much fun. I think they’ll need a nap after all the swimming.”
As if on cue, both Taylor and McKenna yawned. Their mother chuckled as she gathered them to leave. “I think I’m going to take one, too. Thank you again, Brody. And Fancy, it was so nice to meet you, but next time we’ll do it without the police and paramedics.”
The family of four headed to their own house with several more waves and thanks sent in Brody and Fancy’s direction. When they were alone again, Fancy let her eyes trail over Brody’s delicious torso, regretting that he was now wearing a T-shirt to cover up all that sexy, hard flesh. His muscles rippled as he began to clean up the last of their lunch. Grabbing the salad bowl and dressing, she followed him into the house. They worked in silence for a few mom
ents, putting things into the fridge and dishwasher.
When everything was finished, Fancy stepped over to Brody and put her arms around his waist. Smiling, he bent down and gave her a kiss that she immediately took advantage of. Heat coursed through her as she kissed him back with all the desire she felt. This man sent her hormones into overdrive, and right now, they were revving high. His hands delved into her hair as he held her head in place. He pivoted until their positions were reversed and she was pinned against the counter. Clutching her hips, he picked her up and plopped her onto the granite. It was cool against the bare backs of her legs, but she didn’t care. Spreading her knees wide, Brody stepped between them and pulled her to the edge of the counter. His swim trunks were now tented with his growing erection, and he rubbed it against her core.
Ripping his mouth from hers, he brought her hands to the bottom hem of his shirt. “Take it off me, sweetness. Nice and slow.”
Placing her hands underneath the material, she slid them upward over the contours of his torso, reveling in the feel of him. When the shirt was bunched up under his armpits, she took hold of it and pulled it over his head. With the height of the counter, she was staring directly at the notch in his throat. Leaning forward for a lick, she whimpered when he stopped her before she got to her prize. “Uh-uh, baby. We’re in D/s mode here, even though it’s only a verbal agreement right now. That will change Wednesday night.” She’d asked to observe some scenes at the club before completing her limit list. She and Patrick had only begun exploring the lifestyle when they had found out she was pregnant, and then two weeks later he was gone. So she was still very inexperienced in the different types of BDSM play. “But right now, any self-indulgence will earn you a punishment, which I guarantee you won’t like—at least, not at first. Understood?”
She couldn’t help it when her mouth turned into a sexy pout. “Yes, Sir.”
Chuckling, Brody grabbed the hem of her tankini top. “Don’t worry, sweetness. I’ll give you time to play around in a little bit. Right now, it’s my turn.”
He dragged the spandex material of her suit top up to and over her head. Her large breasts bounced when they were released, and she moaned at their sensitivity.
“Lean back a little. It’s time for my dessert, and this time, you’re my sweet treat.”
When she followed his order, resting her head against the cabinet behind her, he bent over and took one of her nipples in his mouth. Wet heat almost scorched her and spread throughout her body, coming to a stop deep in her core. While his lips and tongue tortured the one peak, his thumb stroked over the other one. Brody’s appreciation and attention of every bit of her flesh could only be described as a sensual worship. Maybe he was the type of man who didn’t mind a little extra weight on his woman. Holy shit. Where did those words come from? Is that who I am now? Brody’s woman? Am I woman enough for him? Or am I too much woman? Uncertainties she hadn’t known since Patrick had started flirting with her all those years ago bubbled to the surface.
Pain shot through her when Brody’s open hand slapped her inner thigh, and her eyes flew open to find him scowling at her. She’d been so far into her old teenage insecurities and hadn’t even noticed his mouth was no longer on her breast. “Where’d you go, Fancy-girl? Because it wasn’t here with me.”
“I-I’m sorry. . .I just. . .” She bit her bottom lip, not quite sure what to say. How do you ask your lover it he likes your body or not? Does he wish I weighed less?
His brow furrowed even more as he cupped her chin. “Listen, sweetness. I know you didn’t have a lot of time to explore the lifestyle back then, but let me make one thing perfectly clear. When I ask you a question, especially during playtime, I want a complete and honest answer. Whether you think I’m going to be upset or get mad doesn’t matter. Communication is vital in a D/s relationship. I can’t take care of you properly if I don’t know what the problem is. Now, I’ll ask you again, and I expect a truthful answer. Where was your sexy little mind a few minutes ago?”
He thought her mind was sexy? No one had ever come close to saying that to her before, not even her husband, and she loved how warm and fuzzy it made her feel. Her body and brain went to mush, and that was the only reason when, without thinking, she blurted out, “I don’t think I deserve you.”
Her jaw dropped when she realized she’d said that out loud. Brody’s expression hardened; the best way to describe it was thunderous. Anger flared in his eyes as his jaw tightened. Holy crap, she’d never seen him mad before, not like this. While she knew in her heart he wouldn’t hurt her, the fear she felt at that moment had her shuddering.
He stepped back and pulled her off the counter, setting her feet on the floor. Without a word, he took her by the hand and led her to his bedroom. His silence was deafening, and she wished she’d kept her big mouth shut.
“Brody, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Can you just forget I said it?”
Letting go of her hand, he grasped the waist of her bathing skirt and shoved it down her legs until it pooled at her ankles. She gasped as the cold air conditioning hit her bare mound and ass. He left her standing there, completely naked and vulnerable, then sat down on the bed with his arms crossed over his massive chest. “Rule number one, Fancy. I don’t ever want to hear you say anything bad about yourself or that you’re not good enough for me. You’re beautiful to me, inside and out. I thought that the first moment I met you, and nothing will ever change my opinion. And no, I will not just forget you said it. Rule number two. Anytime I hear you say anything covered by rule number one, you will be punished, as in a spanking, and not an erotic one like you had the other night. Rule number three. Once said punishment is over, the past is erased. We let it go and move on. Understand?”
His voice was hard and rumbling as he was obviously in full-Dom mode. Shit, she was in so much trouble. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” Thankfully, she remembered to call him “Sir” since he might have added more to her punishment. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as he continued. “What’s your safeword, sweetness?”
“Red, Sir.”
“Since we haven’t signed a contract yet, I will ask you this—do you want to use your safeword now or are you willing to take your punishment and wipe the slate clean between us?”
The spanking he’d given her the other night had turned her on. And while she was sure she wasn’t going to enjoy this one, she had a feeling that in the aftermath, Brody would take care of her other needs, too. Her past and future would fade into oblivion for a little while and let her live only in the moment. She wanted to push away the insecurities holding her back from falling for this wonderful man. All she had to do was hand over her body and mind to him, and just feel how good it was between them—how he made her body sing.
Did she want this? As much as she loved handing over the reins to him in bed, this was something entirely different. Something she and Patrick had never had a chance to explore— control over things outside of the bedroom. Her late husband had been more mellow than Brody. If she worried out loud about her weight or anything else, he had just kissed her silly, tickled her, and told her he loved everything about her. Any flaws she thought she had didn’t matter to him.
But Brody was not going to allow her to even think about her perceived flaws. He wouldn’t allow her to feel anything less than beautiful. If those negative thoughts were spanked out of her, would she finally come to love her body as much as he obviously did?
* * *
Brody stared at her, patiently waiting for her answer. This was relatively new to her, and she needed time to think things through. But there was no way he was going to allow his woman to ever believe she was undeserving of his attention and love. And yes, he was totally head-over-in-heels in love with Fancy.
No other woman had ever raised his Dom instincts as high as she did. She’d spent a total of two nights in his bed, and he didn’t think he’d get a good night’s sleep without her there ever again. He just
had to think of her, and his dick got hard. He could make love to her until he was one hundred and never tire of, or stop wanting, her. Fancy Maguire was the other part of his heart and soul he’d been searching for all his life, of that he was positive. He just had to be patient until she reached the same conclusion.
She shifted her hips again, then finally said, “I’ll take my punishment, Sir.”
The knot he hadn’t realized was in his gut released. Silently thanking the universe that she was taking this important step in their relationship, he held out his hand. “Good girl. Then we’ll talk about those negative feelings you have. I won’t tolerate them. Now come over here and lay across my lap.”
Stepping out of the bathing suit bottoms still around her ankles, she slowly walked toward him, clearly feeling a mixture of dread and anticipation. While she wasn’t going to enjoy her punishment, he was certain she’d be wet and begging for him to fuck her when he was done doling it out. And he’d be happy to oblige her, but first things first.
When she took his hand, he helped her lay across his lap. While the other night, he’d used the bed to support her, this time, she was face down toward the floor with her ass in his lap. Her feet didn’t reach the ground so she was off balance, which is exactly how he wanted her. She gripped his leg with one hand and reached up with the other to hold onto the poster of the bed.
Rubbing her upper thighs and ass cheeks, he said, “Count out loud, sweetness. You’ll be getting twenty-five of them.”
Tickle His Fancy: Trident Security Book 6 (Trident Security Series) Page 15
