Eek. No. He most certainly did not. She wasn’t insane. Telling him that up front would have been wildly stupid. Alex wasn’t going to like that she made a unilateral decision without his knowledge. Topping, he’d call it, and he was right. But now that her period was looming, Meghan was even more certain she was doing the right thing. Keeping the tattoo a secret until their wedding night was always going to be nothing short of nearly impossible, but now that her cycle was conveniently timed, she had the perfect out. One he wouldn’t be able to argue. Waiting until after the wedding would make the occasion even sweeter because of what it represented. Making love as husband and wife with zero barriers between them. Legally wed, fertile, and no contraception in sight. Oh, yeah and his brand on her derriere, staring him in the face.
“OH, MY DEAR,” the petite whirlwind resembling a gypsy butterfly cried as she held her arms open wide and smiled at Meghan. “You’re everything a mama could hope for in her son’s bride.”
Something that felt like utter shock and a shitload of awe was running rampant inside Meghan. Angie and Alex were right. Ashleigh Dane Valleja-Marquez was nothing like she’d imagined. Nothing.
First, she was tiny. Like seriously tiny. Victoria tiny. Meghan marveled at how a big, strapping baby like Alex came from someone so … miniature.
Second, she was beyond beautiful. Ageless California girl beautiful with long blond hair, flawless skin, and a face that in no way looked like it belonged to a woman her age. Oh. And she had Alex’s smile and penetrating gaze.
And then there was the third thing that struck her as nothing less than downright hilarious. If there were another soul on this entire planet Meghan could compare this woman to, it would be Stevie Nicks. Right down to the high-heeled boots and flamboyantly feminine wardrobe.
No, seriously. They were like doppelgängers and damn close in age. Dressed in what could only be described as a cosmic tablecloth, she looked like a twenty-first-century version of a Woodstock hippie and it was ah-may-zing. Now, she understood why Alex was such a connoisseur of classic rock and roll. His mother defined being the patron goddess of her generation, and Meghan was instantly enchanted.
“Mrs. Marquez,” she murmured in a tight voice when tears threatened. Trying not to trip over her own feet, she flew into the woman’s arms and was immediately enveloped in a ferocious hug coming from someone so small.
“You must call me Ashleigh, and when you’re ready, I’d be tickled if you’d think of me as Mom.”
When Meghan pulled back from the welcoming embrace, green eyes met blue and an instant bond formed. They had something in common. Each of them would die for Alex. That single thread would hold them together throughout time.
Angie was standing by the door with tears sparkling in her eyes. And next to her was a woman she’d know anywhere. Sophia Valleja-Marquez. In every way that mattered, she resembled a feminized version of Alex. Tall, dark-haired, and intense, Meghan sensed a bit of Alex’s quirky professor lurking inside her. But instead of the messy hair and clothes that didn’t have a hope in hell of matching, Sophie gave off an entirely different air.
Buttoned up tight and carefully smoothed, the poised, immaculately dressed woman looked like she belonged on a First Lady’s podium, not hidden away in a dusty ancient vineyard. She was, in a word, striking. Strikingly beautiful and strikingly mysterious. This Marquez was a dormant volcano. Something dark and seething existed beneath the surface. She picked up the fleeting impression of a wounded animal. And you know what they said about an animal in pain. A sliver of intimidation wound through Meghan’s nerves.
“I told you she was great,” Angie burst out happily. “And wait till you see her and Alexander together. Mom,” she gurgled joyously. “He glows. For real.”
Sophie offered an awkward smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes and reached for Meghan’s hand. “I seem to be sharing my brother with more and more women every day,” she opined with a smirk. “But you. Well, Meghan … you were different from the first. I knew the second I heard him say your name that he was hopelessly infatuated.”
Hmmm. There was nothing shitty about what Sophie said, but Meghan still felt like she’d just been judged. The expression hard-ass came to mind. Instead of shrinking from the dismissal, Meghan struggled not to laugh. Yep. Sophie Marquez was a female Alex. Her manners were impeccable despite the subtle shade, and in an eye-opening burst of clarity, Meghan envisioned her as a no-nonsense Domme. This woman was dealing with some issues, that’s for damn sure. It would take an incredibly formidable male to handle her brand of iron-willed control. They were going to be great friends even if Sophie didn’t know it yet.
Grinning mischievously, she accepted the proffered handshake. “Sophie. It’s a pleasure. Alex told me to tell you straightaway to remove the stick from your ass.” With a broad smile, she laughed. “Message delivered, ‘cause you know he’ll ask. Now, don’t shoot the messenger.”
The whole room stilled then burst into wild laughter. Ice broken, Meghan relaxed and let whatever happened … happen and hoped Alex would be proud of her.
Much, much later and after having way too much drink and fun, she was curled on her side with a phone propped to her ear, cocooned under a heavy feather comforter. It might be spring-like and beautiful in Arizona, but here in the East, there was an April cold snap.
“My phone wouldn’t stop going off.” Alex chuckled. “Message after message. Angie. Mom. Sophie. Gah!”
She smiled. He sounded really happy and that was all she cared about.
“But nothing from you. How come?”
Good question. Easy answer. “I don’t want to text you, baby. Sometimes, it’s okay, but I needed to hear your voice, not wait for my phone to buzz.”
She imagined his smile. How his lips curved and the way he grinned. Her panties were instantly wet.
“What is it you need to hear, my love?” Alex’s deep voice wrapped around her heart. “That everything you do pleases me beyond measure?”
Goddamn, but he had a gentlemanly way with words.
“My mother is rhapsodizing about you. Your beauty. Charm. Wit. Oh, and your delightfully filthy mouth. That’s a direct quote, by the way.”
Meghan giggled. As the meeting with Ashleigh and Sophie wore on, and after polishing off two bottles from the winery, everyone’s filters turned off and the shit talking and hilarity got real.
“Your mom is a piece of work. I don’t know why I was so worried. She was great.”
“Told you.” He chuckled.
“But Sophie.” She sighed. “Mmm, mmm, mmm. That one’s got a bulletproof outer shell.”
She heard his brotherly sigh. Alex adored both his sisters. The relationship he enjoyed with Angie was endlessly amusing, but she knew the sibling dynamic with Sophia was much, much different.
“She brandish the butt stick?”
Yep, gentlemanly or irreverent. The man had a special way of expressing himself.
“Eh, once or twice, but all done for effect. Know how you and Deval have become friends but that doesn’t stop him from threatening your balls on the regular? It was something like that.”
“Sophie’s got a good heart. She’ll grow on you. You’ll see.”
Meghan hoped so. She liked the enigmatic beauty. She showed … chutzpah.
“What’s her story? You and Angie never say much except that Sophie had it rough. What’s that mean? Maybe if I understood her better …”
“Fuck, babe. I’m not the one to ask. It’s complicated. With Sophie, it wouldn’t be any other way. But Angie explains things better than I do. Lots of girl stuff and shit guys don’t understand. Give her a margarita and a bowl of chips and she’ll spill her guts.”
Maybe she’d do just that if the opportunity presented itself. But she was done talking about everyone else. “I miss you. Terribly. It was harder than I thought—getting on the plane.”
“And here we thought I would be the one thumb sucking in the fetal position.”
He
r sigh was real. Under the voluminous comforter, she was, indeed, on her side with her knees pulled up. The thumb sucking was implied. When her lower lip trembled, she fought the wave of melancholy threatening to take her under.
Alex’s gentle, “Are you all right?” felt like a lover’s caress.
Lying or pretending wasn’t an option. “No.” On a sob, she cried, “I was crazy for trying to leave last week. And one punishment isn’t enough for being so stupid. Don’t ever let me do anything like this again.”
“Say the word, baby, and I’m on the phone to Sawyer. The second he’s available, I can get on the plane.”
The temptation was there. She needed him so badly.
“Meghan?”
Aargh. Cramps, wildly swinging hormones, his sexy voice, and being flat-out horny … all conspired to fuck with her head.
“No,” she grumbled miserably. “We can’t. I’m just being foolish.”
Alex’s loving grunt calmed her nerves. “I miss you too, you know.” She noted the pause before he asked, “Getting your period?”
Whoosh! Just like that, she swung from horny and weepy to snarling outrage. “And how exactly would you know that? I swear to god, Major, if you’ve written some sort of code to track my cycle …” She didn’t finish. He was laughing too hard for her to go on.
“No code needed, darling. And no tracking app either. You have a tell and it’s a good one too. I always know where you are in your cycle.”
What an ass. An adorable, charming, melt-my-panties-and-take-me-you-fool ass. “Is that so?”
“Yup.” He sounded mighty pleased with his bad self. Life with an alpha in the wild was certainly an adventure. She couldn’t wait to get him on the ground in Boston. See how all that badassery translated when they were out in polite society.
“Soooo …” She snickered. “Does that mean your new talent will reveal when I’m most fertile?”
His good-natured chuckle was pure Alex. “Once I peel you away from all distraction and drop your sexy-as-fuck ass in the middle of a foreign country for an entire summer, I intend to become intimately acquainted with every cycle and each of your need. No extraneous bullshit. Just you, me, a stream, and all the privacy we could ever dream of.”
“Oh, I see,” she choked out in a strangled laugh. “Are you planning to impregnate your wife, sir? Is that the diabolical plan you’ve made for our honeymoon?”
“You got it, babe. Get used to being naked most of the time. Taking your clothes off takes too much time and-”
“Being fully dressed didn’t stop you in the limo.”
His sexy hiss at her taunt fueled the fire inside.
“You were upset. What did you want me to do? Nothing? You know I can’t stand that shit. So I made it better. With my dick.”
He made it better with his dick. Wow. Guys were so simple when it came to these things.
“And I thank you for that, um … sir.” She heard him chuckle. “May I inquire what your dick is doing right now?”
“Right now, as in right, right now?”
“Right this very second. From your time zone to mine … how’s it hanging?”
“Meghan Elizabeth O’Brien Valleja-Marquez,” he gritted out. She fucking loved when he used all her names. “You are a naughty fuck goddess tonight, aren’t you, love?”
“Answer the question, half-husband.”
“Half-husband? You bitch.” He laughed. “For that, you get a full update and then we’ll see who’s breathing heavy. Right this actual very second, my very hard dick is resting comfortably in my hand. I’m sitting in our chairs and the French doors are open. The breeze is soft on my balls. As we talked, every so often it would twitch from hearing your voice. Knowing you wouldn’t want me to suffer, I’d squeeze just a bit. We’ve been on the phone for a while now, and I’m so hard and want to fuck you so bad that the head is huge and red. You’re really missing it, half-wife.”
The appeal of taking this naughty phone call to its alluring conclusion almost led Meghan to touch herself. They’d done it once before. Phone sex. When she’d gone to Sedona overnight on a getaway with Angie. And the result was spectacularly sexy.
But then she remembered where they were and what they were doing. She had to stick to her agenda. He’d grumble and try to get her to change her mind, but he’d be glad she stuck to her guns in the end.
“Well, lovely visual, baby. Thanks. But I have a special request.”
He was quick to answer. She knew he would too. Alex would give her anything she asked for. Anything. And then deal with the consequences later.
“Whatever you want, Meghan. Just ask and it’s yours.”
She smiled. This was going to be a challenge for both of them. “I want us, BOTH of us, to abstain. Until the wedding. And I mean totally abstain. No self-pleasuring allowed.”
“Where is my Irish fuck goddess and what have you done with her? Are you insane, woman? I could come at any moment just talking to you. And what about you? How do you plan to keep your talented fingers away from an aching pussy? Thought about that part, have we? Hmm?”
This was what they called the money shot. That moment when all became clear. “Baby. You just said it. I’m getting my period. Do the math. By the time our wedding night rolls around, I’ll be into my cycle, primed, ready, and desperate for you. Think about, my love. Legally wed and no barriers at all.
He said absolutely nothing for the longest time. She couldn’t detect the sound of his breathing, but she sure as shit was aware of his brain ticking through the facts to weigh every point she made.
Meghan smiled. Loving her absentminded Major any more than she did at this second just wasn’t possible. Not with the whole universe crammed into her heart, pulsating with emotion and hope—helping shape a future that promised so much.
“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
It was a statement. Not a question. She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Actually, I haven’t. Let’s call it a bolt of inspiration.”
Why is it that laughter and uncontrollable giggles, the kind that come out of nowhere, seemed to happen at the oddest moments? Throwing the covers off, Meghan sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Oh, my god, baby.” She whooped. “All kinds of wrong, I know …” The giggles were in full force now. “But think of it like this.” She tried to compose herself, but the laughter making her fall over and smack the mattress with her hand had her by the short hairs. “A little abstinence and ol’ Thunder Cock will be hurling thunderbolts at my baby maker.”
Alex’s full-throated laugh was just what the doctor ordered. They did many things really well together and laughing was at the top of the list.
“Now, that was more like the wanton ginger I lust after. Thunderbolts, you say? Man, I really like that imagery. Boom! Boom!” He guffawed, and then, with just the right amount of alpha attitude, added, “Okay, Ms. O’Brien. It’s the bride’s prerogative to call the shots, so as you wish. We’re officially in the hands-free zone.”
“Oh, goody!”
With a sultry snicker, her sexy beast drawled, “Will you be working on a plan to make this worth our while? Some scenario worthy of putting our bad selves on lockdown?”
“Ah ha ha ha ha!” Sliding off the bed, she walked into the bathroom and stopped before a full-length mirror. Fully naked, she slapped her palm against her stomach and took in the rumpled but fetching picture she made. Then, turning around and looking over her shoulder, she spied the tattoo on her ass that declared her the property of an oversexed thunder cock. Not a bad deal for her at all.
“Baby, no scene planning required. Or allowed,” she added vehemently. “We’re gonna let nature take over. That’s important, Alex. We won’t be having playtime.”
“Love of my life … you didn’t have to say that. I know we were kidding around for a moment, but honestly, Meghan. I hear what you’re saying about no barriers. This is our moment. You’re getting more than a ring in the deal. I come to the altar with my
heart and soul in my hands. All that I am and everything that’s in my power to give to you will be laid at your feet. There won’t be anything between us once Uncle Ed does all that sacred mumbo jumbo stuff, and I can’t imagine any other way to live my life than as one with you.”
Awww! “So … what you’re saying is we’re not about to have a Carrie and Mr. Big moment with me in a fancy dress and you playing the pussy card and not getting out of the limo.”
“Are you kidding? And risk that Boston beat down your dad and brothers keep on a short leash? Nah. I’ll be there. Bringing those Justice douche nozzles as backup too. Told Drae in no uncertain terms that he absolutely may not wear a holster under his tux. Got my entire motley crew on standby, woman.”
“I adore you, Mr. Marquez.”
“I love you, Ms. O’Brien.”
Yeah. Period cramps or not, her life was fucking awesome.
RIFLING THROUGH THE papers in her big tote yet again, Heather pulled out the itinerary she’d printed last night and looked it over. There were a lot of details and things to consider, so she double-checked to make sure everything was in order.
She was also totally aware on a cellular level that the man seated next to her, the one who was infuriatingly man-spread wide like he owned the backseat of the car ferrying them to the airport, was analyzing her every move. Didn’t he know that overtaking her personal space and the intense scrutiny would only make her more manic?
Shoving the carefully detailed bullet list back into the bag, she took a series of calming breaths and tried to relax.
“You look beautiful.”
Not expecting the quiet compliment, Heather blinked at him, and went still. He had such beautiful eyes. And those lashes. Pooh. What woman wouldn’t look at the lush fringe and be envious? So much for relaxing. When he looked at her like that, it was all she could do not to jump him.
Some unseen vibe in the air shifted and his eyes turned smoky and intense. Was he reading her thoughts? Probably. Letting him in came with a shit-ton of complications. His uncanny ability to see into her mind left Heather little room to close off or hide her feelings. He just wasn’t having any of that shit from her. Those days were over. Brody wasn’t about to let them fall back to their earlier pattern. The one where she used their thundering sex encounters as an avoidance tool in her arsenal of denial. He’d done more to anchor her sometimes-messy emotions in the present than years of therapy just by demanding they make love and not just engage in wild animal sex.
Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) Page 32
