Justice Mine: a Base Branch Novel (12 page)

“
L
ook through it again
,” Law barked.

Magdalena’s bleary eyes blinked the massive V of Law’s tattooed back into view.
Good morning.
Judging by his tone, Law didn’t share the sentiment, but she wouldn’t let it ruin her spirit. She hadn’t ever slept so well or woken to such a striking view. The Roman goddess Justitia stared at Magdalena, unseeing for the blindfold over her eyes. She stood with her chin high and arms outstretched. In her left hand she thrust a sword in the air, ready to strike. In the other the scales hung in balance. Cuffs of material clasped her upper arms, draped across her chest, and gathered about her legs. The prominent position covering much of his sinuous back and the artful excellence with which it sculpted against his smooth skin spoke to the importance its message had in his life.

Propping on an arm, she angled for a better look. A terry cloth towel, exposing the upper half of two muscle-arched dimples at the small of his back, rewarded her efforts. Her lips curved into a smile thinking about the other half of those dimples, hiding beneath the covering.

One of his arms held a phone to his ear while the other hung loose by his side. “No. I’m not,” he growled. The free hand scraped over his head once and then again. When she sat and slid her feet over the side of the bed he twisted his torso toward her. He covered the mouthpiece. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” she mouthed.

His chest expanded on a breath and she caught a glimpse of his tight abs as he returned to the vanity and his conversation. Small cuts littered his pecs and there were two punctuated gashes on his side and arm, but they didn’t bother his economical movements. Magdalena walked to the image scrawled across his back as though drawn to it. Close, the detail enthralled her greedy gaze. And then her hand.

Law’s breath hitched at the touch, but he made no move to stop her exploration. She started at the scales, noticing the barest raise of the inked skin beneath her fingers. Magdalena traced the blindfold, the length of the sword.

“I won’t believe it until you check it yourself, or you can send the computer and drive back and we’ll look through it ourselves.” After a pause, he added, “None of your business. Goodbye, Khani.”

Magdalena added two and two together and figured they hadn’t found anything in her work files. Her heart sank, but the disappointment didn’t have quite the effect it should have had because her hands, both of them, roved the deep groove of Law’s spine, the inside curve of his lats and mounded traps. Mags focused on the tat to keep from soaking her panties, but the task became impossible as Law’s breaths labored.

“Why Justitia? From the law books in your flat and your profession I know you like the law. Even your name rings true. But there’s more to the story.” She was sure of it.

“Nava Zegen was my great-grandmother. In 1943 she escaped the Warsaw Ghetto during the uprising after losing everything during the extermination. Her mother. Father. Four brothers and two sisters. And her son, who was ripped from her arms and shot before her eyes because she begged for a piece of bread for her starving child. They took everything from her, except her will to live.”

Once again Magdalena’s tears fell in earnest at the unimaginable injustice. Her throat tightened and her hands stopped and flattened on his back.

“After Clara died, I went to Europe, visited the mass graves where my relatives may or may not have been buried. I walked the path she took to freedom. I arrived in Finland a month later and got the ink as a constant symbol of what I fight for and of what I have to live for.”

Magdalena lifted a hand to stem the flow of emotion, but only soaked her fingers. Her palm fell from Law’s back as he turned and she considered every angle of his face. In turn, he stared at the bruise on her neck, which had turned vibrant green and yellow by dinner last night. Like a whisper, his fingers glided over the battered skin. She froze as his head lowered and his lips caressed the same spot.

The gulp that cleared the lump in her throat sounded loud enough to rock the windowpanes, but he didn’t seem to care. Law collected her unruly hair in one hand and guided it over her shoulder while his other hand smoothed over her spine, nuzzling the dip of her ass and pulling her closer.

She exhaled in a rush as his mouth worked over her jaw. He licked tears from her cheeks. When his slick lips finally settled on her mouth, her pulse thrummed between her legs. He yanked her belly flush with the solid ridge of his cock. His six feet two inches to her five feet three placed the swell of his head awfully close to the curve of her breasts. Magdalena’s nipples brushed his chest and abraded the thin cotton tank separating their skin, and she moaned into his mouth.

Before she could get her bearings, both his hands cupped her ass and lifted. He guided her core over his sex and wrapped her legs around his waist. She clung to him like he were the only source of oxygen in the world, interlocking her feet and sucking his tongue into her mouth at the same time. He groaned as she worked him to the tip then released him. Law turned and the backs of her legs hit the cool countertop as he settled her in front of him.

“You taste like sex, Magdalena. And I’m a starved man.”

His words excited her and ignited a yearning she’d denied for too long. But apparently not as long as he had. She arched, rubbing her swollen, and irritatingly boxer covered, pussy lips up the length of his dick. “Eat your fill.”

He entwined a hand in her hair and eased her back farther. Her full breasts and erect nipples pointed toward the ceiling. She whimpered as he licked his lips then dropped them to her right, and consequently, most sensitive peak. Wet heat enveloped the tip of her breast and she keened on contact, which spurred him to tug more firmly. He pulled her through his lips then returned with teeth, nipping and dragging the tender, cotton-covered flesh over the rigid texture. Liquid desire coated her lower lips, readying her to receive the thrusts of his manhood. Plumping her left breast with his big hand, he continued tormenting her already aching nipple. Magdalena moaned as his mouth grew bolder, suckling deep pulls she felt all the way to her vagina. She panted and bucked from the overwhelming sensation.

Law rested his head in the valley of her breasts and pulled several ragged breaths. “Christ, I’m like a virgin about to shoot at second base.”

“You can, if you want. I won’t mind,” she gasped.

Teeth caught her collarbone and she giggled.

“You ticklish?”

“Never knew I was ticklish there.
”

“Hmmm,” his lips vibrated against her neck. “So, there are other places.”

Magdalena’s fingers explored Law’s back from the new and much improved vantage point and enjoyed the dichotomy of his hard, smooth body. “Maybe,” she evaded.

His grip slid to her ass cheeks and he molded the generous curves in his palm. “God, your body is dangerous enough to kill a man.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Fuck. Yes. Pure pleasure overdose. Call the police. I think I’m addicted.”

Law straightened and the hands at her bottom smoothed up the slope of her hips. The pads of his fingers stirred her craving as they touched the bare skin of her torso and coasted up her waist.

“Raise your hands, Magdalena.”

Her breath hitched in a mixture of excitement and surprise. Surprise she had no compunction about getting naked with Lawrence Pierce, the man who held her heart in his hands. Surprise he had overcome his misgivings and hurt so quickly. Startled and excited, Magdalena responded with complete obedience and willing anticipation.

He was one of
those
people. The ones at Christmas who opened their presents with such patience and care that others mauled their package like a rabid dog just to irritate the gentle package opener. Law took beautiful care lifting the hem of her shirt centimeter by precious centimeter. His gaze left her face and fell to the heated flesh he exposed. That decisive stare delighted her hypersensitive skin as though it actually caressed and coaxed the dewy surface.

An animalistic grunt rattled Law’s chest as he finally lifted the thin shirt from her breasts. He disappeared from view for a moment while he pulled the fabric over her face and up the tips of her fingers. Her hair plummeted to her shoulders and Law discarded the shirt over his.

Standing back as he was, Magdalena studied the angles of his chiseled torso with salivating thoroughness. The groove down the center of his back was nearly recreated over his front as abutted ridges of muscle bisected his centerline. Two slabs of pectoral brawn ate up a good portion of the real estate. Flat disk nipples set wide and aimed at the ground. Below, eight. Yes, she counted correctly. Eight bricks of fibrous tissue formed the most glorious abdomen she’d ever seen. Where it disappeared behind the terry cloth intrigued her even more. Magdalena’s tongue furled inside her mouth, longing to explore all the light and shadows of his body.

She dragged her gaze from his physique to his equally inspiring face which studied her form as she’d just appraised his, only with more fortitude and endurance. Magdalena couldn’t endure much more waiting. Her core clenched, yearning for the thick cock that tented his towel.

Her hunger took the back burner as Law’s hand raised toward her breast, but stalled inches away. The pinch of his brow said he wasn’t exercising extreme self-control, but struggling with painful memories, or more aptly, their affect on the present. Magdalena grabbed his hand and brought his palm to her mouth. Her lips kissed and grazed the salty skin. Then she lowered his hand to her heavy bosom. The simple coaxing evened his brow.

His callused hands and rough fingers fondled her breasts tentatively. After a few easy strokes, he molded and tugged them with avid appreciation. Magdalena’s hips rocked against his cock. She braced her hands on the chilled tile for leverage and worked her clit along the thick column as he teased her distended nipples. The breath rushed through her lips and foreign electricity sparked deep in her core. Its current pulsed with each roll of her hips and flick of his finger, expanding and consuming her restraint.

“Oh, Law,” she moaned. Her head fell back. One of his hands coaxed up the span of her neck while the other wrapped around her back, anchoring her to his cloth-covered penis. Law drove his hips forward and the energy boomed, reverberating through her pussy walls. “Fuck. Yes.”

“Magdalena.” His hot groan coursed over her neck. “I want to fuck you so damn hard.”

“Aaaaah.” Her broken moan was the closest she could come to consent this close to release.

“I want to make love to you. And never stop.”

She didn’t know how, but she formed one complete word in answer. “Yes.” Then the current of her orgasm obliterated coherent thought. It strangled every muscle and nerve ending in her entire body until she died. The sweetest death. It allowed her breaths to rush in and out of her chest in gasps and his touch to remain ever potent to her flesh.

“Exquisite,” he whispered at her ear. His grip tightened as she sagged in repletion. “I’ve got you.”

Law’s mouth burned a trail of steaming kisses along her neck to her breasts. He blew humid air across the sensitive flesh then licked a slow spiraling circle to the point, regenerating the electricity that already fried her once. Magdalena swallowed a moan as he sucked her nipple into his wet mouth and flicked the live tip with his tongue.

She levered her head from its backward loll and watched his mouth adore her. His gaze traveled over her heaping breast, locking with her own. He released the engorged flesh then tormented both buds with his tongue. The veins in his neck bulged as he studied her reaction to his loving, which fed her excitement all the more.

“Law, you have to stop. I’m going to come again.”

His lips sealed over her mouth and drank her deep, pulling her tongue and fucking her mouth. When he broke the kiss they both gulped air. Firm, confident hands glided over her shoulders and across her breasts. The corner of his mouth quirked as he moved over the soft flesh of her belly. “Magdalena, you’re going to come a lot.” Law charmed her bellybutton with his index finger and Mags sucked in her stomach. “Found another one. God you’re going to kill me.” He ground his penis against her core.

Magdalena clutched his hot lats, rolling along his ridge and angling for the perfect contact. She moaned as his thumbs plunged beneath the waistband on her boxers. Her entire body prepared for his touch, but it didn’t come. And neither did she.

T
hree raised
bumps on Magdalena’s hip that would hide easily behind the smallest bikini bottoms stopped Law cold. His entire body seized like an old machine prone to malfunction. Her lusty half-lidded gaze popped wide. And probably looked about as confused as his.

Law stepped back enough to relieve the pressure from his swollen cock and flipped back the band of her shorts. As he had suspected, three horizontal scars marred her skin. The puffed tissue contrasted with the creamy background in hues of pink. The top line stretched only an inch of her flesh while the other two lashed beneath it in decreasing length. The final one looked more like a small circle than a line.

“Where did they come from?”

Magdalena stared at him for a moment longer then her gaze sank to the spot in question. “A family I stayed with for a couple of months in DRC honored me with a tribal mark.”

“This was burned, not cut.”

“All a part of the ritual.” Her gaze narrowed as she deliberated. “It hurt, but not terribly, and it was the greatest praise I’d ever received. They don’t include many outsiders in their traditions.”

“What do the markings mean?”

Her swollen lips thinned and she gave him a lopsided smile that made him want to bar the doors and windows and never leave this place. She cleared her throat. “They’re for fertility.”

The words hit him like a dead body dropped from way the fuck above his head. But his response shocked him all the more. Every muscle in his body tensed as it always did right before he came. The blood flowing through his carnal tool doubled, as damn near did its size, along with the need rushing through his veins. An urge, desperate and primal, demanded he spread Magdalena’s legs before him and give her his seed. His child. Their child.

Starbursts flashed behind his lids as the earth shattered apart beneath his feet. He’d never thought about kids with Clara. They’d been career driven. And after, the possibility never occurred to him. But Magdalena. The woman corrupted his mind so completely that he wanted to have a child with her and never let either of them go. But sometimes, the decision to stay or go was not his to make. Life hung in the balance every day. And that rocked him to the core.

“Do you want children, Magdalena?”

Her smile evened and brightened, if it were possible for the sun to burn brighter. “Only about five or six.”

“What about your career? Baine told me you have big plans for a world-wide media empire.”

She winked at him. “I like to have dessert. And I like to eat it too.”

Lord save him from those long lashes and open eyes. “What about all the horrors in the world? All the things you saw first hand in the Congo? I saw your pictures. And that’s not even the worst of it.”

Magdalena straightened, unabashed in her nudity. She placed a hand over his heart and her fingers caressed him. “Children are the light in the darkness. The purity of humanity. Hope for the future. I absolutely want them,
because
of what I’ve seen. Their smiles wash away all the hurt and heartache.”

“What if something happens to them?” he whispered.

“Life gives you no guarantees. So, you love with all you have. And enjoy the time you’re given. If not, what’s it all for anyway?”

The world shrank in on his shoulders and though he struggled to pull a breath, no air came. He stumbled back. Magdalena’s hand fell away. Law watched, unable to move, as he dashed the heat and hope from her face. He turned away from everything in the world he wanted and ran to the door. His hand flew to the knob. Uncaring about his state of undress, he turned the lock.

His own words played over in his head.
I’ll never abandon you again.

Law rested his head on the door with a
thunk
and gripped the handle so forcefully he thought he might leave indentions of each of his fingers. His teeth ground together and he wondered what the fuck was wrong with him. Why couldn’t he breathe? Why could he stare his own death in the face time and again without blinking, but ran like a sissy in pink panties when the life of someone he loved was on the metaphorical line?

He hated the weakness crippling him. Hated himself for hurting Magdalena. By the time he could actually inhale a decent lungful of air, she had disappeared behind the bathroom door. He couldn’t blame her for running. She’d do well to continue in the same direction for a thousand miles. She deserved someone who could give her all the things she wanted, which was no less than she deserved.