Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3)

by Halliday, Suzanne

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

  “No. Don’t be. You see, that’s what I’m having such a hard time explaining. Shit happens for a reason, you know? I think it’s time for me to move on. Figure out who I really am without a PTSD label following along. As Bob says, from victim to survivor. Right?”

  “You shouldn’t try to do it on your own.”

  “I know. But timing took over, and once I cut the therapy cord, things got clearer. And then you came back and well, here we are.”

  “Oh, my god.” He chuckled. “Is this your way of saying you’re going to let me in?”

  Good grief. Men were a challenge sometimes. “You’ve been let in plenty of times,” she quipped drily.

  When he thrust his manhood against her lace covered ass and laughed, she tried again to turn around in his arms.

  “Hold still. You wiggle worse than a kid does. I have an idea. How about we test your new resolve?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t like tests.”

  Pfft. “I know. Never a debater, always the moderator. It’s also time to cut the control cord, honey.”

  “If this is your way of getting me into bed, you’re wasting your time. I’m a sure bet, remember?”

  Just about the last thing she expected was the stinging bite he placed on her neck. Aw, come on. Biting was like a red flag to a bull.

  “Yeah, it’s also a sure bet that if I let go of you, you’ll flip the cards and have me on my back in a heartbeat. I think it’s time you loosen the reins.”

  Jesus. His words inflamed every one of her nerve endings. What was he suggesting? Surprised didn’t come close to describing the sensation when he reached for her wrists and gently pulled them behind her back. Holding them with a firm grip, he pressed into her softness and murmured close to her ear.

  “Would you let me tie your hands …”

  “No,” she answered a bit too quickly. And a tad too frantically. The loss of control terrified her.

  “Okay. We’ll revisit the tying later. How about you just keep your wrists crossed behind you? Think you can do that?”

  “Why?”

  Her body was humming. Keeping hold of her wrists, Brody reached around with his free hand and laid it flat, fingers spread wide, on her exposed stomach.

  “Do you trust me?”

  Aw, shit. She hated when a question got answered with a question.

  “Yesss,” she replied with a bit of hesitation.

  He laughed. “But you only trust me as long as your hands are free.”

  “Oh.” He made a good point.

  “Trust becomes a different issue when the senses are cut off. Let’s say you can’t move your hands. And maybe you’re blindfolded too.”

  Excitement flooded her core. He was wading into dangerous waters. Touching on things she kept from view. Everyone’s view. Even hers.

  His hand moved, reaching up to trace her lips. “Piece of cloth, maybe stretch lace like your panties, made into a gag.”

  Heather gasped. All those things frightened the crap out of her. And made her disturbingly wet. When his hand moved between her legs and rubbed the dampening lace, she quietly whimpered.

  “That’s what I thought,” he growled lustfully. Swiftly turning her around, so fast she wobbled and grabbed onto him for balance, he took hold of her face and lowered his till barely an inch separated them.

  “The fucking. It’s not enough anymore … is it?”

  She couldn’t look away. Not with the way he held her face. Afraid, she closed her eyes and tried to stay upright.

  “Don’t close your eyes, honey. I feel it too. That’s what all this is about. I think about you, Heather. And I want more. You do too no matter how hard you try to play it cool.”

  She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Remembering the spike of jealousy she felt when a woman’s name appeared on his phone, she said the words before thinking them through.

  “Do you have a girlfriend in Arizona?”

  He didn’t pause, flinch, or hesitate in any way. “No. I jerk off to thoughts of you. Frequently. I guess you could say that’s why getting inside you was the only thing on my agenda the minute I hit town.”

  My goodness, but he was being all sorts of direct. “Where is all this going?” she questioned.

  CALMLY REMOVING THE garish New Year’s Eve hats because the last thing he needed was an elastic chin band in his way, he whispered, “Relax. Don’t think so much. Let me take care of you, Heather. Trust me, just a little, okay?” He waited to see what she would do.

  None of this was what he’d expected when he’d shown up uninvited at her door. The reminder of this day was like a giant whirlpool of suck, and he just wanted to take away her sadness. He was being a good guy; at least, he saw it that way in his mind. The clothing-optional negotiation, the way she’d crumpled earlier, the call from Lacey, her admission to leaving therapy. All were wildcards. The result? His resolve to just this once stay out of her pants was dust in the wind.

  “Brody. All of my defenses are down. I’m … struggling. I hope to god you know what you’re doing.”

  Oh. He knew what the fuck he was doing. It was time, well past, in fact, to take the red-hot sex they were so damn good at and change the dynamic. He’d bet the gunboat on her never having been the sole focus of a man’s desire. Her husband had been a huge douche. Whatever he did to her wouldn’t even qualify as sex. He messed with her head, her emotions, her body, and her soul. Time to erase that motherfucker once and for all.

  “Bet I’ve never told you what beautiful eyes you have. They remind me of …”

  The sentence didn’t finish because their lips got too close and a soft whimper of breath from her mouth brushed his. Need, want, desire. They were all in the air. So was indecision. And uncertainty. She really was a complete mess.

  Like he knew she would, Heather rushed past the hesitation and tried to seize control. It was her way of avoiding her fears. Sinking into him, her lips pressed to his. He sensed the desperation. Seemed his lady was beginning to drown in need.

  Drawing back, he released her face and effectively cut her off from his touch. And his mouth. Her surprised hiss and unsteady wobble made his blood heat. What was that damn expression Drae thought was so hilarious? Bottom topping? Something like that. The man liked to joke that his wife was an expert at it and that there were times to indulge in those passions and times to reel that shit in. Understanding burned brightly in his mind. Suddenly … he got it.

  Reel it in, dude. Reel it the fuck in.

  “Hands behind your back.” He’d taken two steps back and crossed his arms. The posture of authority. Now for the voice of command. “Do it, Heather.”

  Licking his lips with salacious emphasis, he smirked at her when she bit down on hers as she tracked the path of his tongue.

  “But …”

  “You want to be kissed?”

  She nodded her head vigorously and tried again to get into his arms and at his mouth. The lady was relentless. What he did next was either going to throw gasoline on a bonfire or get his face slapped.

  Quickly crowding her with his big body, she got a hearty thump on the ass and a growled, “Behave or no kissing for you.”

  She went absolutely still, her face a mask of shock and desire. With her hand cupped to her bottom and mouth hanging open, he watched a clash of emotions play out on her face.

  “Did you just smack my butt?” She sounded … incredulous.

  “I did. Now, do as you’re told and put both hands behind your back.”

  She put up one final display of resistance that only fired him up even more. This was a shit-ton better than getting face-palmed.

  “What do you hope to gain with this, um … behavior?”

  Hahahaha. Her reply was so lame he almost fell over laughing. He liked her shield being gone. Leveled the playing field. He was finally starting to catch glimpses of the real woman. Not so confident and ballsy now, hmm?

 
; “Reminding you who wears the pants. And who calls the shots. Now, stop quibbling, wrists together, and no more talking back.”

  For one tiny second, she looked as if she might throttle him, and then it vanished. Her hemming and hawing actually radiated from her body in waves. But then, everything went still. Even the air around them. His heart gave a heavy double thump, and the world, as he’d known it, tilted slightly.

  Moving her hands to her back, Heather complied with his demands; she straightened her shoulders to show him she was in no way handing him an easy win while she looked him straight in the eye. As far as not talking back went, the sultry look she gave him, the one mixed with a heavy dose of defiance, was as insolent as she could get and still keep her mouth zipped.

  Rather than gloat over her submission, he rewarded her instead. Keep her on her toes.

  “Good girl,” he murmured a second before grabbing hold of her face and pulling her in for a seriously possessive kiss. As she hung suspended by his firm hold on her head, he ravished her mouth, enjoying the way she struggled to keep her hands together and how her whole body quivered from head to toe.

  When he eventually gentled the heavy kiss, as their mouths separated, he licked each corner of her lips as she sighed. “Now see,” he quipped. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  Brody didn’t expect an answer, and she didn’t give one. She was in uncharted waters without a life jacket. Every wave she faced took her farther and farther from the safety of shore. Ocean metaphors aside, it hit him that what he was doing was a little bit like taming an animal. First, establish trust. Then dominance. The thought made him groan.

  He glanced at a nearby clock. A few minutes after eleven. The realities of the night invaded his thoughts. At the stroke of midnight, all hell would break loose outside. Even the quietest of neighborhoods filled with happy, noisy New Year’s revelers. Firecrackers, loud whoops, banging pots and pans. All that shit would hit her like a ton of bricks. The only way to cut off the inevitable was to replace it with something else.

  Inhaling deeply, he took in every sensation and tagged each one. Old, learned habits died the hardest. He could thank the military for this one.

  Her skin was warming. He could see a charming pink tinged flush growing with intensity as it swept up her neck and onto her cheeks.

  The gray t-shirt she’d chopped to hell rippled with her shaky respirations. Instead of a steady rise and fall, her chest heaved with a series of rapid breaths followed by long pauses when she all but stopped breathing.

  Luckily for him, the cheap, flimsy shirt did nothing to hide the twin peaks of her nipples … which meant her bra was little more than window dressing.

  He needed to see her. All of her.

  “Go to the hallway. Stand beneath the light and face me.”

  The confident strut came at a cost. When she turned to walk away, he got a clear view of her back, and the way one hand wrapped tightly around the other wrist with its clenched fist told him a lot. He didn’t want to break her down completely, but he did want that pretend courage to take a fucking hike.

  Turning off all the lights in the living room and kitchen, Brody did a thorough visual check, another and more obvious learned habit, to make sure the area was secure. Situational awareness served him well whether peering through a gun scope or facing a pack of excited dogs. This time, though, was about keeping Heather safe. Just like that, she’d become his responsibility. The thought was more than a little sobering.

  When he approached the hallway and found her exactly as commanded, standing in the only light left on, her beauty took his breath away. There was just one thing wrong with the sexy picture she made.

  “Lose the t-shirt.”

  Watching her pull the tiny bit of nothing over her head, he thoroughly enjoyed seeing her boobs jiggle with the effort and smiled. He wanted to lick her. Taste every inch of skin.

  Wadding the material into a ball, she arched an eyebrow in silent question of what to do next. He wondered if not talking was killing her.

  His sex twitched, and he knew by the flare he saw in her eyes, that she’d noticed. The briefs covering him less and less adequately as his hard-on grew more insistent did very little to disguise the lust gripping his balls.

  Wagging his finger in a come here motion, he growled, “Toss it.” Easily snagging the ball of fabric from the air when she gave it a well-aimed throw, he drew the shirt to his face and inhaled. Yep. Smelled like her. Feminine. Sensuous. Lightly perfumed.

  Brody was beyond turned on when she returned her hands behind her back. He didn’t realize till now how bondage could be used as a simple but very effective emotional power play.

  Having heard the whispered story of Alex tying Meghan to a tack room hook and how Drae was scarred for life after stumbling upon her … he completely understood why the story brought such laughter. And so much speculation about the bedroom activities of the randy couple.

  Eyeing Heather with admiration and not just a little bit of primal satisfaction, he made a mental note to do some research. Find out what this sort of play involved. If she was game, and she clearly was, then he was all in.

  Dropping the unnecessary crop top to his feet, he stuck a hand to his waist, gave her a deliberate once-over, and then twirled his fingers. “Turn around … all the way. Slowly.”

  After a graceful pirouette, she faced him again with a bit of lip biting. Why do women always look so worried about their bodies? From his viewpoint as a red-blooded American hound dog, it was all good.

  “You have a magnificent body, m’lady,” he drawled as he made his way toward her. Palming the bulge at his crotch, he smirked then offered a wry grin. “See what you do to me?”

  A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. Ah. Really? So she needed to hear his pleasure. He was good with that. More than good.

  “How-” she snapped her mouth shut as the spoken word split the air. The lowered eyes were a nice touch, but he doubted they had anything to do with the submissive vibe she was putting off. He knew he was right when she looked up again and rolled her eyes. Her shrug of amused defeat was no surrender.

  Moving in, he gave her a full predatory leer. Arms crossed again, he looked into her upturned face. With a growl of impatience, he drawled lazily, “All right, all right. Don’t want you to end up biting your damn tongue.”

  Amusement evident, she snickered but didn’t look away.

  “After all,” he grunted with a husky chuckle. The sudden change in his tone hit the mark when he saw her go from flirty to watchful. “You’re going to need your tongue. A lot.”

  Oh hell yeah, she got his meaning.

  “So out with it, woman. What is it that you absolutely have to say? And make it quick. There’s a bed at the end of this hallway waiting for you to get naked and lay on.” For good measure, he waited for a beat then added, “I can smell your desire. No way to hide it.”

  That got her talking. And quick. “How is it that you just happened to be wearing the right underwear? Is this all just … happenstance?”

  “No more a coincidence than you having blue lace panties.”

  She cocked her head to one side and gazed at him searchingly.

  Running a finger inside the top of the lace stretched across her stomach, he resisted the urge to press further when he saw her skin prickle and she sucked in her breath. Baby steps.

  “Subliminal awareness.”

  She frowned. Her expression read, “Huh?”

  “I associate your hot, sexy ass with this color. It’s one of your favorites. And the lace? You have a couple of pairs in this style. Get it? Subliminal awareness. I knew on some level.” He paused a second then mockingly admitted, “Plus, you wore the blue ones that time we got down and dirty at the drive-in theater. Best twenty bucks I ever spent.”

  She gasped and swiftly knocked him on the chest with her shoulder.

  “What?” He chortled. “It’s true. Opening an old-time drive-in movie park was genius if you ask me.
For twenty bucks, you can park, load up on some quality refreshment stand munchies, at an optional cost, of course, and then sit back, watch a great movie, and thanks to tinted windows and reclining seats, fuck the night away.”

  Heather snorted out a laugh and shook her head. She gave him a comical look that suggested he make his point.

  “Anyway … I was subliminally aware the blue panties were a go. And you were aware that the Beckham preference was also a go. I don’t wear anything but. Not the whole time I’ve known you. Creature of habit.” He shrugged. “When you find something that works, y’know?”

  He moved in and shut down the conversation. Pressing his erection into her softness, he reached behind and grabbed her ass with both hands, hauling her close.

  “So to answer your question. Not a coincidence. You knew what you were doing, and I was happy to oblige. I like you too with no clothes on.”

  Massaging the delightful globes, he groaned his pleasure when she undulated against his hardness. The soft whimper she gave sealed her fate.

  THE FLOOR BUCKLED beneath her feet, she was sure of it, when Brody squeezed her ass, licked her ear, then chomped down on her neck. Like a dog claiming a bone. The thought was not altogether unseemly. He trained the beasts, after all.

  Heather wasn’t sure how she kept her hands behind her back when he went to town on her neck, jaw, and shoulder. Perhaps, she thought as a shudder ripped through her body, a bit of tying up maybe with a ribbon or something sexy like that would be okay. She was more than a little surprised at how tantalizing the prospect seemed.

  The way he was gripping her bottom as he kept her anchored to his front and the substantial protrusion from his groin was making her all kinds of wet and desperate. Squirming as much as she could, she was dimly aware of Brody moving them along the hallway with the occasional stop as he pinned her to the wall and did unspeakable things to her body.

  When he pinched her nipples through the bra she wore, the lace abraded her aching nubs and activated a rush of wet heat into her center. Not wanting to sound like an idiot, she bit back her response only to have him angrily demand, “No. I need to hear you, honey. Don’t hide your passion from me.”