Enduring (Family Justice Book 8)

by Suzanne Halliday

  Ha! Tough titties, gals! And guys.

  Rafe was a magnet for the LGBT community. One time, she thoroughly enjoyed watching him beat the snot out of a dude for taunting a closeted soldier. Things like honor and justice flowed through his veins. It was in his DNA. The man shit integrity.

  She was enjoying the man parade when a chick without a clue stood quickly to block Rafe’s progress. She giggled and did a simpering, “Sorry,” charade. When she put a hand on Rafe’s chest for balance, Domineau slid from her seat, ready to go clock the bitch for touching her man.

  Oh.

  My.

  Fucking.

  God.

  She swallowed a big lump that formed in her throat. Her man?

  Matty approached and turned to see what she was looking at. Molly was on her knees, peering around the end of the booth.

  “Daddy! Come on! Rina and I need you.”

  Shocked and amused, she glanced at Molly and bit her tongue to keep from falling over laughing. The kid might only be five, but she knew what the hell she was doing! She pursed lips and the challenging glare she worked up was a warning shot for any female foolish enough to cross her. The daddy-daughter dynamic was strong with these two. Domineau was quietly pleased that Molly included her when she spoke.

  “Rina?” Rafe asked with raised brows when he got to the table.

  “Domineau said I could call her Rina. Like ballerina, get it?” Molly excitedly blurted when Rafe slid into the booth.

  “Oh, did she now? Well, how terrific is that?”

  The enormous smile that spread on Rafe’s face made her blush.

  Chapter 5

  How they got out of the restaurant and to their cars was something of a mystery. Rafe bounced between Molly and Domineau, trying to anticipate each of their needs. He got Molly and Matty settled in his car—it was his job to drop them back with Roman and Kelly. The other couple was handling the movie portion of the evening.

  Standing in the open driver’s door of her car, he stroked Domineau’s arm until she looked at him. He handed her a key on a ring with a cheesy pink flamingo covered in bling. “Go to my house. The code is hula girl. Make yourself at home. Go through my drawers if you want.”

  She glared at him with amusement shooting from her eyes. He hoped she went through the nightstands.

  “There’s a bottle of Valleja sherry on the bar cart.” He bent and licked her ear. “Channel seven fifty-one is porn. Feel free to rev the engine but let me handle bringing you to the finish line.”

  She dropped the outrageous flamingo key ring on the table inside the door and punched in the security code.

  Hula girl! What an ass.

  The first thing she did was check the thermostat. A sudden drop in temperature meant a storm system was threatening. It was still warm, but nothing like the staggering summer heat of the past couple of months.

  Remembering he suggested she check his drawers, she squealed with laughter and took the stairs two at a time. Idiot! Didn’t he know she would rifle through his bank account if he let her?

  In the master bedroom, the overhead ceiling fan was automatic, but the light was adjustable. She slid the control for dim shadows.

  Rafe’s bedroom suited him. Her fingers brushed the top of a large wooden dresser. It was big and solid, like the man. She yanked open a drawer, found it stuffed with socks, and smiled. Such an ordinary thing—socks.

  The wall behind the bed was deep red—black cherry came to mind as the name of the color. Everything else was done in shades of dark gray, some white, and accents of black.

  The enormous platform bed was the perfect fuck playground. On an angle above the bed were two large skylights with sophisticated electronic shades. She activated the control and retracted the covering that kept the daytime heat to a minimum. The windows were at the perfect pitch that when she was on her back with her calves on Rafe’s shoulders, she could see the stars. And when she rode him, she sometimes lifted her arms to the heavens as his cock sent her soaring.

  She bounced her butt on the mattress and looked around. A book on his nightstand was upside down. She flipped it over for a look and found it was about raising daughters. Some part of her wished the book had been about anything else. What did she know about being a parent? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing.

  Carefully opening the top drawer of the nightstand as if she was expecting booby traps, Domineau peered into the darkness. When she was certain nothing awful awaited her, she went exploring with her hand.

  The first thing she pulled out was a tube of hand cream. For such a big, active man, Rafe had the softest hands. She removed the cap and sniffed. When nothing offensive hit her nose, she squirted some into a palm and smoothed the cream into her hands. Two remote controls were next. One was a mystery but the other controlled the wall mount TV. Just to be perverse, she flicked it on and turned it to Rafe’s preferred porn channel.

  Returning her attention to the drawer, she pulled out a pack of condoms shoved into the back. After some awkwardness about health histories and whatnot, they had agreed to ironclad monogamy for as long as they were together. She was more than happy to ditch the condoms in favor of the bareback option.

  Rafe’s staff was a thing of wonder. She had a thing for him getting off. Maybe that wasn’t the right way of putting it, but it was true. Domineau loved feeling him bathe her insides with his essence, and she found it strangely exciting in a primal way when he came on her skin. Plus, there was the whole sucking cock and swallowing thing. She relished his tasty saltiness. He tasted like the ocean.

  Not much else was in the drawer. Nor in the one beneath. Disappointed, she wandered to the other side, stopping to observe a lusty blowjob happening on the 50-inch screen. The actress swirled her tongue on the guy’s cock while he was in her throat. It was an impressive feat.

  On the opposite side of the playground-sized bed, she smirked at the miniature hula girl that sat beneath the light. When she opened the top drawer, she understood what vapor-locking was all about.

  Holy mother of kinky fuckery! Where the hell should she start?

  There were two tubes of lube. One said anal desensitizing. She fell over laughing. He was so messing with her! Jumping up, she ran into the en suite bathroom and hastily squeezed the entire tube into a big lump of goo in the sink. She tossed the empty tube on top and washed her hands in the second sink.

  Next, a still-in-packaging vibrator got her attention. The shaft curved slightly and had small beads inside. A rubbery protrusion with a knobby flat head meant to nestle the clitoris made her pussy throb.

  A shiny butt plug with a pink heart-shaped crystal fell into her hand when she dumped a blue velvet pouch. She bit her lip and inspected the cold smooth steel. This was new—playing with her ass. Rafe was way too big for actual penetration but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be adventurous.

  Fuzzy handcuffs with a curious bordello look made her smirk. There was a matching set that she couldn’t quite figure out. It took her a few minutes to get it. One pair was for her ankles. The other her wrists. There were secondary buckles to attach the cuffs together. Wrists to ankles. Oh, my goodness. She eyed the naughty vibrator and wondered what Rafe was thinking.

  A small box contained a beautifully illustrated Kama Sutra and some massage oils.

  Another box had a bullet vibrator and a note that read, I recall you liked the little egg. I hope you will allow me a personal guided tour of the best way to make you come.

  The man getting his dick sucked on the TV withdrew his saliva-covered staff and roughly flipped the woman onto her knees. He shoved her head down and moved her ass around. Without stopping for finesse, he lined up and rammed home—bottoming out on the first plunge.

  She felt her face burn with desire. Maybe it made her even more fucked up, she wasn’t sure, but Domineau enjoyed well-done porn. It excited her to see a dick power fucking. The sight and sounds made her crazy wet and horny.

  A minute later, she shimmed out of her pants and
tore off her panties. She got on the bed, stacked up some pillows and faced the TV with her legs spread wide.

  The bullet hummed to life. With her eyes glued to the furious fucking on the wall, she started teasing her pussy and clit. In no time, her moans filled the air. She slid the bullet just inside her pussy and let the vibrations send her soaring. Rafe had a tongue that knew all her secrets, so fantasizing came easy. She closed her eyes and rubbed the bullet around her sensitive clit.

  A noise made her eyes fly open. It was Rafe, holding the bottle of sherry and two glasses. He was right next to the bed staring at her pussy. “Don’t stop,” he grunted.

  The casual way he calmly put the glasses down and poured, all while never taking his eyes off the bullet and her creaming pussy, made her quiver.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned into her open thighs for an audible inhale. “Here, let me help,” he drawled a second before his big hands and sturdy fingers spread her pussy lips wide. With her hands free, she could concentrate on her pleasure. Her pussy clenched with unbridled arousal when he told her how swollen and beautiful her clit was.

  She teased the throbbing nub and laid the wicked vibrating egg to it. Her back arched, and she jerked from the fiery jolts of lust. Her hips bucked. She wanted to come. Overcome by the building climax, she paused long enough for Rafe to lovingly pluck her clit. The flood he unleashed made her shake all over. When he slid his big warm hands beneath her ass and lifted, her thighs parted farther. She was totally exposed.

  Rafe’s face was inches from her pussy. “Finish it,” he demanded, “while I watch.”

  The second she tapped the bullet on her swollen clit, she catapulted into a groaning, body-jerking climax punctuated by his pleased grunts. When the throbbing pulses stopped, and she caught her breath, Domineau tossed the bullet aside and melted into the bed—her thighs still open.

  Half expecting him to claim the invitation, she was startled when he gruffly demanded she sit up and look at him.

  “That demonstration was quite enlightening. Thank you. But we need to get something straight.”

  He was kidding, right? Crossing her legs as if she wasn’t naked from the waist down, she licked her lips and regretted the absence of some water to help her parched mouth. When she made eye contact, he was standing, arms crossed, with a stern expression. The substantial bulge under his zipper mocked how turned on she was.

  “The kids aren’t here. It’s just us. Look me in the eye and promise me you weren’t fucking around about the boyfriend gig.”

  “Is this the best time to seek clarification?”

  He sneered. Her damn pussy throbbed. Seriously?

  “Yes, it is. Because I know you, Domineau. Or should I call you Rina?” He pinned her with a look. “If you try to pull a smoke maneuver, your ass will pay for it.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “Woman, you need a good spanking. Not one of those ‘please sir, may I have another?’ I’m talking a butt whupping to remind you what the hell is at stake. I don’t lie to my kid, and I’m pretty fucking sure you’d swallow bugs before purposely fibbing to Matty.”

  She grumbled at his pronouncement but didn’t deny he was right. His arched brow, crossed arms, massive chest, and mocking bulge unleashed a myriad of slutty thoughts.

  “Okay, fine!” She threw her hands up. “You win. Rafael D’Alessandro—official boyfriend. Happy?”

  The brow remained arched. “And?”

  She glared at him through narrowed eyes. Dammit. He really did know her too damn well. “Shit. Whatever.”

  “Say it, babe. Out loud.”

  “Rafe, come on.”

  “Nope,” he drawled. “Out loud, Ms. Rivera. Who do you belong to?”

  Yeah, she was gonna like this girlfriend thing, but no way was she giving in this easy!

  “Belong to?” she shrieked with outrage that unfortunately sounded more like teasing. Knowing she was making a logistics error, Domineau flipped onto her knees and started crawling across the bed.

  Was her bare ass in the air? Yes.

  Did Rafe laugh? Also, yes.

  Grabbing the corner of a pillow, she tossed it behind her, hoping that it smacked him in the face. The damn bed was so big that making it to the other side took way more effort than expected. Rafe grabbed her ankle and yanked. She clutched the covers, trying to keep an advantage, but he was too strong. She screamed with outrage and tried to kick him. He just kept laughing.

  When he tugged one last time, she lost her piddling advantage and barely stopped from landing on the floor.

  “On your feet, woman!” His bark was more chuckle than bite.

  Putting both hands in the middle of his chest, she tried to shove him away with the expected result. Rafe was solid and barely budged an inch, so she tried faking him out with a duck and weave, but he caught her before she took two steps.

  Then the bastard did the unthinkable! He started tickling. Wiggling like a crazy woman as she tried to get away, she screamed with laughter and kept smacking his hands.

  From the sound of his voice, she realized Rafe was enjoying himself far too much. “Say it or I’ll tickle till you pee!”

  “All right, all right,” she screeched. “Stop!”

  The fucker stopped but boxed her in with the back of her legs against the bed. “I’m waiting,” he teased.

  It was impossible to keep the stupid smirk off her face, so she barely tried. She put her hands on his neck and pretended to strangle him. “Wipe the smug look off your face.”

  “Are you kidding?” He sniggered. “No fucking way. Waited a long time to get you backed into a corner.” He waggled his eyebrows and laughed. “C’mon. Say it. You know you want to.”

  A bolt of inspiration flash-banged in her brain. The crusty, hands-off, surly thing was past its expiration date. Rafe knew all her moves by heart. That left just one alternative. She wondered how he would react.

  Fluffing her hair, she did a pouty-mouth smirk and went to the hilt with some chick-teasing. Walking her fingers up his chest, she even cocked a hip for good measure.

  She had never played the coquette even once in her whole life, and the only reason she knew the term was because her mom collected unusual words and peppered her conversations with them.

  Rafe’s near giddy pleasure in her act was clear. He was literally looking at her as if he was deciding where to begin devouring.

  “You are crazy for wanting this, Rafael D’Alessandro, but yes, I’m your girlfriend. Happy now?”

  He laughed. “Very happy. Thank you.”

  She continued her simpering flirtation because … Rafe. “What’s in this for me?” The question was innocent and set up what she wanted to say next, but her boyfriend had other ideas.

  With one mighty yank, he shredded her blouse in two and ripped it off. Her bra was next.

  Years of living twenty-four seven in a minimizing sports bra meant that in her current life, she kind of lost her damn mind every couple of months with lingerie shopping sprees. Was she thrilled that his big paws destroyed her favorite underwire? No. Nevertheless, it felt great when he took it off and tossed it to the floor.

  With an ass ton of manly swagger, Rafe declared, “I like that I’m the only one of those Justice butt fucks who gets to see your boobaliciousness.”

  Did he say boobaliciousness?

  He snickered while cupping one breast. “Magically delicious.”

  They started kissing like horny college coeds at a sex party. Afloat on a cloud of aching need, she fully embraced her enjoyment. Everything felt so right with this man. As herself—or as close to herself as she’d ever come.

  Deep in bliss, she barely registered him breaking the kiss. His commanding hold of her naked body made her putty in his hands. She loved when Rafe cut through the dozen layers of bullshit she seemed forever wrapped in and simply took her. There was no other way to put it.

  A low groan rumbled from her throat when something wet landed on her brea
st. She jerked at first—it took a few seconds for her brain to clear. Rafe had dribbled some of the sherry onto her skin and began licking it off, paying particular attention to her nipple. She watched, transfixed, as his tongue licked. She shivered. Occasionally, the licks became sharp nips.

  He repeated the process on her other breast. She watched some of the dark sherry drip down her torso. What he was doing made her bones turn to goo. He took his time, and she realized that for Rafe, it was all about how much pleasure he could give her. They would get to him eventually.

  A minute later, she went for his belt buckle. Rafe’s husky chuckles made her pussy throb. “Ah. Just remembered I have clothes on, huh?”

  “Shut up.” She sniggered. “I have to concentrate.”

  He laughed some more.

  “Unless, of course, you don’t care if I damage the crown jewels in my haste?”

  “Haste!” He guffawed and smacked her butt. “Great word. Make haste, woman! There is a perfectly good hard-on waiting for your pretty hands.”

  He playfully bucked his hips like a male stripper and chanted, “Haste! Haste! Haste!”

  Of course, this would be the one time his stupid zipper chose not to cooperate. Struggling just enough to make her feel like a trembling teen about to confront her first trouser snake, she ended up bending for a closer view.

  “You’re fucking kidding, right?” Rafe growled. He only had to lean slightly to reach her ass, which he boldly caressed while she took control of the pants hardware.

  Getting her big man out of his clothes left her breathless and sweaty. His idea of helping involved a lewd verbal field trip complete with demonstrations of his Magic Mike prowess.

  When he was gloriously naked—and grinning like a jackass—she eyed him stem to stern. He really was a magnificent example of manly beauty. The guy was huge and muscled. Smooth, pumped up, and fully erect. His thighs looked like tree trunks, and his hands? Shit. Rafe gave some of the best arm and hand porn out there.

  Pointing at his cock, he audaciously sniggered a taunt. “You planning to ignore that?”