He considered how to respond. She was giving herself over to him. Placing not just her physical being in his hands but her heart and soul too. It was everything he’d hoped for and more.
“Honey, look at me,” he commanded. It pained him to see the doubts shadowing her expression. If it was the only thing he did with his last breath in this life, he was going to take that look and crush it. “There’s been no one but you since the start.” He didn’t really need to say anything else.
It took a couple of beats for the meaning to sink in. He ticked off each and every reaction. Disbelief. Shock. Confusion. Doubt. Acceptance. Belief. And then happiness. The sort of brilliant joy that lit her up from the inside.
Putting out his hand, she put her much smaller one in his grasp; her eyes never leaving his as he gently helped her stand. Some part of him wanted to crack a few jokes. After all, she really did look like she’d gone five rounds with a Yeti. Him being the hairy beast, he conceded dryly.
Get your shit together, dude.
They were less than six steps from the side of the bed, but he picked her up anyway, scooping her into his arms so he could cuddle her close. Helping her face the facts meant there was work for him to do. He’d just used her pretty fiercely, and though she seemed to like the rough handling, taking care of her afterward was all on him.
With a solemn reverence he felt in his bones, Brody kissed his precious lady on the forehead and walked around the foot of the bed. Lowering her gently onto the mattress, he rearranged the bedding and got her settled comfortably. She looked pale and delicate reclining against a mound of pillows in her decadent black lingerie.
Bending over to kiss her more thoroughly this time, he felt a fearsome satisfaction that she tasted of him, but her tentative tongue swirls brought him up short. Was she embarrassed by what happened? Was that why he sensed her wavering?
Ending the kiss with a soft lick along her lips, he told her to take a timeout then dashed into the modest master bath. Finding a washcloth, he plucked it from what he sensed was a careful display, shook his head with amusement, and turned the hot water on. He bet she never used them. They were what Pops called the fancy linens. The ones you put out to look nice for company.
Hurrying back to her side, he settled beside her on the side of the bed balancing with one foot on the floor.
“Close your eyes,” he murmured. When she did, he stroked her face with the warm, wet cloth. Taking care of her seemed the most natural thing in the world. Her soft sighing, “Mmm,” filled him with peace.
He wiped her face and neck in silence. Words were unnecessary. It was much more powerful to communicate through the senses. Laying the cloth aside, he slid both hands behind her back and unhooked the sexy black bra. She opened her eyes and glanced down as he peeled the straps down her arms and lifted the lace away.
With a less than apologetic smirk, he drawled, “Looks like I’m buying you a whole new outfit.” Holding the lacy garment by one finger, it dangled in the air. “Dress in shreds and this bra, well …” With a genuine smile, he teased, “Told ya the bib was a good idea.”
She bit back a laugh and smacked him on the arm.
“What?” He chuckled. “Too soon?”
“I’m glad you think this is funny,” she pouted prettily in a way that made him want to applaud. Brody very much enjoyed this side of her. Frowning slightly, she wiggled around and moaned, “Maybe I should take a shower.”
Like hell, she would! “Fuck no,” he ground out.
She probably wanted to say more… women always did. But he cut her off with the washcloth, stroking it reverently across her chest. Cupping her breasts with the wet cloth, he squeezed the tempting mounds and tweaked her nipples until she was squirming and reaching for him.
Whatever hope he clung to of going slow shot right out the window when her little hands scored the skin on his chest with desperate fingers. On a shaky murmur, she begged, “I need you.”
He wasn’t even sure after that how he got what was left of her underwear off, although he did recall tearing the flimsy silk panties in two. Her need drove him to desperation, and soon, they were rolling all over the bed. Kissing frantically, rubbing their bodies together, he indulged every sense. Licking, biting, stroking, grunting—he even pressed his face between her open thighs and inhaled sharply.
“You smell like heaven,” he growled before lapping at her arousal.
He stopped when she began to tense. No way was he wasting a climax without his cock buried deep so he could share every throb and pulse. Snatching up a big pillow, he rolled it under her ass while she blindly groped at him. Listening to her pant made his dick twitch. So did watching her thighs part so easily.
Rising up on his haunches, he got into position and guided the head of his hungry cock to her glistening opening. Rubbing up and down her slit, he was covered in her fragrant nectar and shaking all over. When her hands grabbed his hips forcing him to finish what he’d started, he shoved a hand under her ass and lifted her off the pillow. With the trembling fingers of his other hand, he deftly parted the arousal slickened lips of her sex and let out a low roar.
With careful aim, he pushed forward, watching as his big, hard cock breached her entrance and started to sink deep. As her juicy pussy sucked him in, he used both hands to shift her until he found an angle that made her gasp. It was the sound of perfection. After that, he thundered home.
She was so wet and so turned on that her first orgasm hit almost immediately. Crying out when her body spasmed wildly, he kissed her face, bit her shoulder, and lavished his praise.
“Good girl,” he grunted. “Come for me, honey. Coat my cock with your pleasure.”
They changed positions a bunch of times. She liked being on top, so after she came that first time and her pussy was momentarily satisfied, he rolled them so she straddled him then encouraged her to have at it. And she did. Beautifully so. Her second climax was breathtaking to see. He liked when she rode him too. Not only did he get to see her tits bouncing with every stroke, he got to watch her face too. Seeing her passion was deeply, deeply satisfying.
She collapsed on his chest when the fierce contractions eased. Her sweet smelling pleasure covered them both. He was a lucky son-of-a-bitch..
Limp and whimpering, he wanted to put her on her stomach and hammer away from behind, but he knew he’d push too far if he did. So he rolled them face-to-face on their sides, gathered her close, and lifted one of her legs over his hip.
They fell into a rhythm of deep strokes followed by them grinding together as they clung to each other. His thrusts became stronger. The leg over his hip wrapped around him like an anaconda. She met each stroke, grunting quietly on each plunge.
He couldn’t take anymore. Pressing her onto her back, he withdrew as she hissed her displeasure. He smiled. This time, when he rolled the pillow beneath her hips, she sighed and let her legs fall open. She was so damn beautiful spread open for him. Her pussy was swollen from the pounding, and her clit was on full display.
He kissed her. Lots of tongue. Then he licked each nipple and ended with a stinging bite. Lifting her calves onto his shoulders, he leered down at her when she gasped and met his gaze with lust-shadowed eyes.
He wanted to tell her he loved her, but she wasn’t ready to hear him say it and that was okay. They were taking baby steps and giant strides all at the same time. Right now, all he could do was love her with his body and pray. They’d get to the love thing eventually.
“You might wanna hold on,” he ground out. She gripped his forearms and surged upward in invitation. No more encouragement was needed.
The first plunge made her cry out. He withdrew, paused, and then plunged again. His balls slapped against her ass. Heat, lots of it, and a flood of arousal greeted his demanding cock. Her chin was wobbling, and she was staring up at him through eyes he doubted could focus.
“More,” he growled.
Her whimpers were breaking him down, but he didn’t stop. Stroking deep,
he hammered away. A fire started in his back and spread to his groin. Every muscle in his body hardened, and his balls felt like they might explode.
Grunting wildly, he spread his knees wider for more leverage and lost whatever control he clung to.
She cried his name as he roared with animalistic pleasure. He felt her pussy tighten, knew when she came yet again, and then let loose with every ounce of strength he could muster. It was a wonder he didn’t break her. Like for real ‘cause he never remembered anything being quite so ferocious or all-consuming.
When it was finally over, they were drenched in sweat and body fluids and trembling wildly.
As sense returned, he was aware of his face pressed to her breast, her arms cradling him lovingly, and her hands stroking his hair. He must have eased her legs off his shoulders at some point, but they were still connected. If it were up to him, they’d stay like this forever.
When words were possible, he asked, “Are you okay? Was I too rough?”
She kissed his face and tightened her arms around his head. They’d gone from him taking care of her to the opposite. The way she held him felt comforting and right.
“I’m fine,” she murmured softly. “Thank you.”
He levered up and looked at her. “Why thank you?”
“Because I know what you’re feeling.” She laced the bold statement with a short sigh. “And because I belong to you now.”
Whoa. That was some admission. His heart soared. She was his. He’d never been happier.
HER FEET POUNDED out a steady rhythm on the running path through a local park where Heather went to get her run on. She missed her daily runs when the weather made it impossible. But now that winter was loosening its grip, she bounded out the door at full speed on most days.
Spring was starting to make some quick cameos in the weather, and today was positively awesome. Actually she admitted, most days were awesome since Brody claimed her.
Claim was such a weird word, but it fit. She knew her admission of belonging opened the floodgates of his insatiable desire. Not that she was complaining. Being loved so thoroughly and so completely was amazing.
Once they were passed her issues, he took making love to her morning, noon, and night as seriously as a heart attack. She’d teased him that he was wearing her out, and he responded by showing her a text he saved. One where he’d been needling her until she finally admitted to him making her horny. Like all the damn time. From that moment on, he made seeing to her intimate needs his number-one priority. His ardent lovemaking and the way he took care of Heather made her smile.
Life was good. Brody was more boyfriend than she could handle, but hey, boo-fucking-hoo, right? Of all the things to whine about, that wasn’t one. Her mom called every single day. And she took those phone calls now instead of dodging them. Most of the calls started with, “How’s that hunky boyfriend doing?” At first, she cringed at the expression, but then, she embraced it. Not only was he her damn boyfriend, he was a serious hunk.
It occurred to her that mother-daughter talk about men and love and stuff like that was something her mom missed out on. Heather’s relationship with Jason was a long protracted going along with fugue state. That’s how she’d come to view it, and after sharing this epiphany with her therapist, the doctor gently pointed out how her loss of identity also affected her family.
She never really thought about it that way even though her mom constantly reminded Heather that her ill-fated marriage affected them all. As her feet pounded she chanted, “Now I understand.”
The last two weeks felt life changing. No longer fighting the truth, she fell headfirst into being with Brody. Cooking him dinner. Taking long hikes in the mountains with George by their side. They even went shopping together; something no woman in her right mind should do. The man always managed to locate the raunchiest, most risqué items in any clothing store. Even Target. And if they grocery shopped together, keeping him in check was like supervising a feisty five-year-old with a case of the munchies. As she pushed the cart and consulted her carefully planned-out list, he merrily sauntered the aisles, tossing every imaginable crap product he could find into the cart. She was right. He and George were both garbage cans. She watched Brody destroy an entire package of Chips Ahoy one night when they stayed in and rented a movie On Demand. Oh, and then he made love to her on the living room floor.
He was on his best behavior at all times and never mentioned the changes barreling at them like a runaway freight train. Though he’d been adamant about nothing being written in stone, she still harbored doubts. What if she didn’t want to leave Maryland? Would he really throw his plans and dreams in the shitter because of her? How fair was that?
For now, he seemed content to play it with no pressure. This crazy wedding he was so amped up about was in ten days, and while he clearly couldn’t wait, she was freaking out inside.
Stopping to catch her breath and take a slug from a water bottle, she looked around at the rolling path through the still barren trees. She’d never been out West, but she knew the scenery was nothing like this.
What if these Justice people didn’t like her? His phone contact list was all about them, and they called with regularity. And not just other guys either. There were women, a few in fact, who touched base with her man almost daily, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.
After the Jason nightmare, she’d closed off so completely that friendships were a low priority. Yeah, she had colleagues and some loosely described friends but nothing like the connection she sensed between Brody and the Justice crew.
The bride to be, Meghan, really ruffled Heather’s feathers although she couldn’t put into terms why that was. Maybe it was the way Brody’s voice changed when he talked to her. Heather knew she was acting like a crazy, jealous girlfriend, but she couldn’t help it. This was all new to her.
And then there was Lacey. At least, that one was married and a mother. Didn’t take a genius to figure out that her jealousy lessened slightly with the presence of a kid.
Starting up her run at a much slower pace, she kept ticking off names on her worry list. Victoria was next. Or Tori. Mostly, the woman’s husband called her by her formal name. Everyone else used the shortened version with Brody going back and forth. He liked the husband. Drae was his name. Draegyn St. John. She snickered. Good grief. A book boyfriend name if ever there was one!
Then there was Gus. He sounded older and spoke in a deferential way to Brody. She noticed this a lot when he interacted with other men. It was that alpha thing, she supposed. Until associating the term with him, she’d been the first one to snort at the word. Hell. A couple of shithead freshmen actually answer a What Do You Want To Be Doing in Five Years question with the expression … Anything Alpha.
The burn in her thighs intensified as she struggled up a serious incline. Huffing and puffing, she crested the hill and slowed to a heavy walk. Her heart was beating from the intense workout and a trickle of sweat made its way down her neck. Chest heaving, she slapped her hands on her hips and walked in place for a few moments.
Brody. He was changing everything. Before she knew it, they’d be together in Boston and his other life would come crowding in. She hoped he wasn’t expecting too much.
“Ah ha ha. Son, you’re a piece of work.”
Pops’ gentle chiding laugh made Brody grin. He was pacing back and forth in his office waiting for three o’clock so he could shut down and head out. A shopping excursion with Heather was on his agenda. He still didn’t know what to get Alex and Meghan for a wedding present and figured a woman’s opinion was better than going down the gift registry and simply buying whatever was left.
“You tell this gal you’re in love with her?”
Straight and to the point. Must be a family trait.
“Well, no. She’s not ready to hear it. But soon, Pops. It’ll have to be soon, you know?”
“What are you gonna do, boy, if your Heather isn’t impressed by all that yee-haw stuff in the dese
rt? You’ve said it yourself. Part of the appeal is Justice being a world unto itself. Not everyone wants to live in the middle of nowhere.”
Oh, god. Like he didn’t think that through a million times already. What seemed the Promised Land to him might not be her cup of tea.
“I know. That’s why I’m taking her to Boston for Alex’s wedding. Give her a chance to meet everyone on neutral ground.” He sighed heavily. Pops knew everything. There weren’t any secrets between them. “She’s struggling. I’ve thrown a lot at her in a short time.”
“Does she know about Tracey? And the kid?”
Easy bull’s-eye. Shit. “Yeah. Not the details, though. All that’s a work in progress.”
“She gonna have a hard time if you locate your little one? You’ve thought this through, I hope.”
“Fuck, Pops. I can barely think about it. Not if I wanna hang on to my sanity. Once I have some time to sit down with Cam and find out what he’s learned, I’ll decide how to handle Heather.”
The old man laughed. “Read about him on the website. Is it true he can find Waldo every time?”
Brody chuckled and nodded, pressing the phone to his ear. “Yeah. It’s freaky too. I asked him to hide something for my training pups to track. Not only can he find pretty much anything, he also has some voodoo shit going on when it comes to concealment too.”
“Hee, hee, hee. I thought that was your special power.”
“I wish,” he grunted. “Hiding in plain sight is worlds away from outright concealment.”
“Remember when you scared the piss out of Reverend Baker? He was convinced you used a cloaking device that time you surprised him at the church picnic. That was some funny shit, son.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “And that was before the military scrambled my brain.
Shuffling sounded in the hallway as classes let out and people started moving.
“Gotta run, Pops. School’s out and I’m off to shop for a wedding gift. Call me this weekend, okay? I want to know what the doctor says and no running me in circles.”
Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) Page 21
