Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) (53 page)

She was, as the saying went … playing with fire.

The elevator doors silently opened. Motioning her to go ahead of him, Alex held back a second so he could watch her ass as she walked toward his suite. Slowly bringing up the rear, he thoroughly enjoyed the seductive show Meghan’s sexy ass performed as she rocked on down the long hallway in a pair of, red-soled, sparkly shoes that made her hips sway so perfectly.

Yeah. He was definitely going to remind her who she was dealing with.

Waiting for him at the double doors to the corner suite, she actually posed. Leaning her back against the wall and arching slightly, she twirled one of the loose curls from her upswept hair and bit her lip. He knew her so well. The pose was calculated. The lip bite she couldn’t help.

Instead of immediately opening the door, he went straight to her and pressed her back, hard, against the wall with the force of his body. Pinned to him, breast to hips, she shuddered and let out a hushed squeak.

“Asking for self-denial and requesting that we abstain is one thing. But taunting me when I can’t do anything about it is a very wicked thing for you to do, my dear.”

In all honesty, he couldn’t wait to see what she did next. His pulse picked up, and he could feel his dick throb where it pressed into her soft flesh.

One quick lip nibble and she grinned. “Oh, shut up, you.”

His answering grin was twice as big as hers. “As I said … evil witch.”

Levering off her, he made quick work of getting them inside the suite and then slammed her against the closed door, shoving his sturdy thigh between her legs.

Gently, brushing some hair off her face, Alex stared at her lips, knew she was all but begging him to kiss her, and decided against it. Nah. Not yet.

“Tsk-tsk, Mrs. Marquez. And here I was all set to forgive your current spank tally as a wedding gift.”

“Really?” she squeaked. “You don’t have to do that.”

He snickered. “Yeah. No shit, woman. I didn’t realize you’d end up doubling down with that naughty mouth instead of learning a lesson. Maybe spanking isn’t that much of a deterrent,
hmm
?”

He watched with avid interest as a slew of unreadable expressions flitted across her face. All right. What was she really up to? Did it excite the holy hell out of him that she was so obviously creating mischief? Fuck, yeah.

“So here’s what we’re going to do. You’ve got one hell of a blistering coming for the old count. But those last two ‘shut ups’? For being a wicked tease, they go on a new tally.”

Her deep frown was cute as shit. She hadn’t counted on him changing the rules.

“What sort of tally?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know just yet. Depends, I suppose, on how naughty my Irish fuck goddess gets.”

Pressed against her as he was, Alex was quickly starting to drop the reins of self-restraint holding him in check. Enough playtime. “Put that mouth to better use and kiss your master, woman.”

She reached for his head and held the sides of his face. “I missed you.” Her husky whisper was almost too much.

Taking her time, she nibbled on his bottom lip until he’d had enough. He took control. It was what she wanted. Claiming her mouth with a heavy groan, he went deep. Within minutes, he was fumbling with the fastenings on her pantsuit and groaning in frustration.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he bit out. Every route his hands took in search of skin got him nothing.

“This would be a jacket,” she boldly replied with a whopping dollop of cheeky insolence. “And pants. That’s what the leg coverings are called.”

“Yeah, I got that, Meghan,” he ground out. “But what’s that infernal contraption underneath? Some twenty-first-century chastity belt? “

Giggling happily, she mussed his hair and presented him with a playful smirk. “That, my love, would be a body suit. Guaranteed to stop wandering hands. Got it off the abstinence rack at the dirty store.”

He roared with laughter. Score one for the wanton goddess.

I
T JUST DIDN’T
get much better than this. Snuggled up against the big, sturdy body of her sexy Major, his arm around her in a protective embrace as they curled comfortably together on the big living room sofa watching whatever the remote control king wanted, Meghan let the peace she was feeling spread through every cell of her body.

Expecting to fight off his advances because she figured he’d, at least, try to get her to change her mind about waiting till after the wedding, she’d been thrown by how he explained why he wouldn’t be doing that.

Telling her he’d rationalized on the flight to D.C. that if they could just indulge once—take the edge off, then he’d be happy. But, he said, as time wore on and he really thought about it, taking the edge off wasn’t going to make anything better and entertaining the notion felt like a fault in his character.

Nope. He was a big boy, so he said. And grown men knew how to do the right thing … unfortunate twenty-four seven erection and all. So they simply got comfortable and enjoyed hanging out together.

The suite had everything, including a kitchen and a dining room that seated ten. It also had a baby grand piano. After changing from the severe buttoned-up pantsuit into a familiar pair of Alex’s sweats and a Justice pullover, they sat at the piano and shared a sweet musical interlude.

Dinner was an intimate affair. They sat close and fed each other, sipping a lovely Marquez Winery vintage, and talking quietly as married couples do. They didn’t discuss the wedding, mostly the conversation centered on Justice and their upcoming European honeymoon. All in all, it was a slice of perfection before the inevitable craziness got underway.

“Was your dad okay with us not meeting until tomorrow?” She worried that it came off as rude that they’d wanted this time alone.

Alex’s fingers drifted up and down her arm. “No. Not at all. He completely understood.” She liked feeling his soft chuckle her hair when he kissed her head. “Besides, he’s been away from Mom for almost a week. She and Sophie took off before him to meet up with you and Angie. Poor Dad.” He chortled with a mocking smile. “He rattled around the house and boohooed, so if you wonder where I got it from, there you go.”

Meghan smiled and rubbed her face on his muscular chest. He’d changed and was wearing his nerd uniform. An ancient t-shirt so faded the pattern was hard to see but she knew was the design of a computer motherboard. So typically Alex. An obnoxious pair of decrepit camo sweats that she hated, but he adored covered his sturdy legs reminding her that she couldn’t win every battle with the Major.

He smelled of the decadent port wine they shared after dinner. One of his favorites, the drink was more sultry than sweet … just like the man. She inhaled deeply. The faint aroma of the Swisher Sweet he insisted on lighting up out on the balcony clung to his shirt.
Mmm.
What were they talking about? She couldn’t remember.

“Your dad is taking him on a tour of his station house in the morning.”

“Are you serious?”

His chest rose and fell from a chuckle, but no sound came out. “Yeah. The start of a quid pro quo that oughta be interesting. Your folks are giving mine an immersion course in Boston Irish-ness with an open invitation to experience the flip side when your parents visit Spain.”

Mmm
. God, he smelled good. She sighed.
When her parents visited Spain.
Mmm.
Hold up. What? Picking her head up from his chest, she looked at him and blinked. “Did you say my parents are going to Spain? Was anyone going to tell me this?”

“From what I pieced together,” he drawled, “there’s some crazy plan in the making that involves your parents, my parents, Parker’s parents, and Calder and Stephanie. In other words, the grown-up’s table.”

“Wow.” That was all she had. Simply … wow. Some impulse she didn’t see coming made her blurt, “I don’t think your sister likes me all that much.”

He looked at her like she was certifiable. “Are you joking? She fucking adores you. Parker says she’s like a broken record where you’re concerned.”

He had a point. Angie was her lead cheerleader at the moment. But that was not who she was referring to. “No, silly. I mean Sophia.” Shrugging although by no means was it no big deal, she told him, “I can’t figure her out. One minute, she’s friendly and nice, and then she’s glaring at me like a TSA screener. I don’t get it.”

He didn’t blow off her concern. She wanted to kiss him for being so … Alex.

“Do you want me to talk to her? Find out what’s going on?” He seemed peeved but not entirely surprised. “I know she’s a tough nut to crack. Just give her a chance, okay?”

Reaching for his face, she cupped it with one hand and smiled at his worried frown. “Baby. She has a lifetime of chances, and I mean that.”

“Did you ask Angie to tell you about Sophie’s history? I think it explains a lot.”

“No. The opportunity never came up. Maybe you could try?” She really needed to know what the fuck was going on.

Switching off the TV, he threw the remote onto the sofa and stood up taking her with him. “If we’re going to get into this, I think a nightcap is required.”

She jostled him playfully as they headed to the bar cart. “Are you trying to get me drunk, sir?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he assured her with mock seriousness. “And then I intend to pour your sloppy, inebriated ass into a cab and have your drunk ass dropped on the sidewalk outside your parents’ house. Just in case they thought I was a good guy.” He shrugged.

She howled, her laughter bouncing off the walls. “You’re gagging for that Boston beat down aren’t you, Major?”

Swatting her behind, he leered comically. “Brought backup this time. Got the whole Justice team ready to brawl if it comes to that.”

Oh, my god. She laughed even harder. “You poor, delusional old man,” she managed to choke out between giggles. “Are you daft? They’d have your back until the punches started, and then they’d step back and laugh their asses off while you got handed yours on a gilt platter.”

“Motherfuckers,” he mumbled as he poured Glenfiddich into two cut glass tumblers. “You’re right, of course. Drae, that whiny pussy, is demanding a do-over on the right hook he owed me. Some bullshit about me being drunk and him pulling the punch.”

Meghan took the glass and arched an eyebrow at him.

“Got something to say, have you?” The taunt in his voice was easily detectable.

She smirked, then grinned, and then giggled. “No, Master.” Meghan knew that one of the wedding toasts was going to involve a mini-bottle of Jameson’s at every place setting and let him have his little victory. He could dominate her in almost everything else, except this. Having an iron stomach and a hearty constitution when it came to Irish whiskey was just who she was. That she could drink her badass alpha under the goddamn table was the icing on her cake. The Jameson’s toast was an intentional ribbing.

Sliding his fingers through hers, he clasped their hands together and walked them onto the balcony where the calm, soft breeze of a late April night wrapped around them. Spring was finally here. Perfect time for a New England wedding.

They sat on a cushioned loveseat and got comfortable before she fired off questions about Sophie.

“Just tell me … is it me? Does she not think I’m right for you? I need to know, Major.”

“Aw, darling,” he quickly assured her. “No. Good god, no. If she’s being weird at all, it has nothing to do with me. I promise you that.”

She took a sip and enjoyed the bite of the fragrant whiskey. Turning sideways, she slung her legs over his thighs and put a pillow behind her back. She wanted to see him while they talked.

Alex sipped along with her and then put his glass down and started rubbing her feet. After that, the story just unfolded.

“Sophie was the true nerd in the family. Not me. She got all of Dad’s analytical mind and an equal amount of Mom’s beauty. Some of my earliest memories of Sophie are of how awkward she was around people. It was like she had a switch. When it was just family, she was the organizer. The girl who was forty before she turned twelve. But with others? She barely held her own.”

“What do you mean by that?” What he described could almost be anything. She needed clarification.