Unchained (59 page)

What was it about him brushing her hair? Or knowing how to twirl her mass of curls just right so they’d fit in the clip? Honest to god, Alex was a manly guy. But when he did these simple things for her, he never seemed more masculine. Or powerful.

So when he washed her as though she were a delicate treasure, stroking the suds-covered pouf all over her torso, Meghan became so deeply mesmerized by his loving care that her mind emptied and she went someplace else. Somewhere it was just the two of them. Silently communicating.

His touch was what her soul needed.

Unfortunately, bathwater has a shelf life before it gets weird. And chilly. He drained the tub, told her to stand, and then used the handheld hose to rinse her off. Did he spend an inordinate amount of time and attention directing the spray between her legs? Yes. Yes, he did. It was Alex, after all.

With all the solemnity of helping the Queen from her state carriage, Meghan’s husband got her safely from the tub and onto a bath mat where he proceeded to gently wipe away the water left on her skin.

Once again—because it was Alex—he had her bend over, stretch her arms up, and put each foot on a stool so he could get at every teeny tiny millimeter of skin on her body. He was thorough that way.

When he was satisfied that not a single drop of moisture escaped his attention, he led her to the bedroom and over to the patio doors. Crowding her close from behind, she felt his erection against her ass. It felt like her heart was beating in her throat as she struggled to remain still. Then his hands swept around her waist and rose up her torso until he had both breasts cupped in a gentle grip.

An aching throb wracked her body when his hands closed around her flesh. Her breasts felt like they were on fire. She reached for his hands placing hers on top. What was happening? She didn’t know whether to press for more or pull his hands away.

“Easy,” he whispered in her ear. “Your breasts are tender tonight, aren’t they?”

Tender? Jesus. Try hypersensitive. Raw.

He fastened his mouth to her neck and suckled briefly before chomping down but good. The mark of the beast. She shivered and whimpered.

“Stand here, my beauty,” he growled seductively. “Let me watch you against the night sky.” Kissing her between the eyes, he held her face and looked deeply. “There is nothing but us, Meghan.”

He jostled her head slightly to make his point. “You. Me.”

Her gaze locked on his. “Yours,” she murmured.

He nodded slightly. “Mine.”

A single tear came from nowhere and slid from her eye, rolling down over his thumb and dropping onto her lip. She tasted the salty drop and gave a small cry. “Alex.”

“I protect what’s mine.”

Oh, god. She heard the message in his voice. This was Major Alexander Valleja-Marquez stripped to the bone.

Meghan wasn’t sure where the words came from or why they chose that moment to escape her mouth. “Don’t let go of me.”

What was that? Her greatest fear? A worry sparked by Finn’s hurtful accusations?

His hands slid away, and he took a step back until their bodies no longer touched. Her eyes held onto his.

“Meghan,” he groaned. “My beautiful Irish goddess wife. Even when we are apart, I never let go.”

All hell broke loose inside her at his choice of words. What felt like the mother of all hormonal surges hit with full force, and she crumpled so fast it was a miracle she hadn’t ended up on her ass. Luckily, her man had excellent reflexes.

A sob tore from her throat. She covered her face with her hands and started to shake uncontrollably. “I don’t know what’s happening,” she wailed miserably. She was lifted off her feet and into his arms immediately. He strode with Meghan cradled against his chest and laid her gently on their bed as painful sobs shook her body. Alex crawled next to her and held her while she cried.

“Baby,” he groaned. She heard the agony in his voice and cried harder. “You know it kills me when you cry. Please stop.”

What the fuck was wrong with her? Everything was fine and then wham! She became an award-winning drama mama and didn’t even know why.

“I’m afraid,” she wept.

“Of what, honey? Tell me and I’ll take care of it.”

Trying to rein in the outburst, she clutched at her husband and took a stab at explaining.

“I’m afraid this is all a fantasy. A dream. And one day, I’ll wake up and you won’t …” She couldn’t continue; saying the words would make the fear even greater. Damn Finn.

Had she expected him to get all Daddy Dom on her and kiss away the tears—make it better? Yeah. She had.

So she was trailing behind when he suddenly reared up and loomed over her. His chest, a naturally impressive specimen of manly glory, filled her vision. He was breathing heavily, a bit too heavily, and a low growl was rumbling from his throat.

“I won’t what?” He was yelling. “Love you anymore? I don’t know who the fuck put that thought in your mind,” he grunted with a serious overtone of malice. “But when I find out, they’re dead.”

She was quaking and trembling like crazy. Alex’s fury cut right through Finn’s bullshit. Her husband really was the magnificent human being she believed him to be. If her brother thought all this was an act, he was one stupid motherfucker.

Meghan shot upright and launched into his arms.

He wasn’t finished growling like a beast and grabbed her by the skull, sending the clip holding her hair up to the floor. “You are my wife,” her beast bellowed. “I will kill anyone who hurts you.”

She didn’t know what to say. Or do. Unexpectedly complex emotions spurred on this entire encounter. When she first got home, she’d been a mess from Finn’s hateful insinuations clouding her brain. Alex tried to gently bring her back to a place of calm. And it worked. For a time. And then, what? She went from composed and feeling more than a little turned on to a wretched, crying emotional baby.

And what did all that get her? Judging by the turbulent energy her man was putting off, she’d venture a guess and say that Alex’s inner Kraken had been released. The beast was off its leash and on the prowl.

It took less than a split second to make up her mind. Rubbing against his hard, tense body, she pressed wet kisses on his neck and across his chest shoulder to shoulder.

Topping? Taking control? Yeah. And so the fuck what? Alex’s powerful lovemaking would quiet the demons in her head.

She wasn’t sure if he was giving in or humoring her as he let Meghan ravage his neck and shoulders from one side to the other. Just about to lick his Adam’s apple, she yelped when he grabbed her hair and pulled her away.

F
UCK.
S
HE’D TOTALLY
distracted him with her tears and unexpected outburst. Some part of him was seething because his best efforts to redirect the turmoil had evaporated the second her waterworks started. They were heading for a furious fuckfest—exactly what he wanted to avoid. He hadn’t counted on his primal man to awaken and chest-thump some random threats.

Knowing those threats weren’t quite so random shook his moorings loose and shredded Alex’s composure so fast he struggled to take back control. All that cultured gentlemanly crap could fuck off if his woman were truly hurt. He wasn’t kidding—he’d kill anyone who harmed her. As far as mind-blowing thoughts went? That one was the crown prince of headfucks.

She was starting to crawl all over him. Her wicked mouth and tongue were doing all sorts of sexy things to his neck. This frontal assault was so perfectly Meghan that he knelt there and luxuriated in her passions until the line in the desert sand loomed way too close. Any more and he’d be inside her making damn sure she couldn’t walk when he was through.

Yanking her head away with a sharp tug of her hair, he grunted fiercely. “No.” She tried to override his command with an evil shimmy on his inflamed cock. His sexy Irish wife, the fuck goddess of his dreams, was in no way deterred by his heavy-handed response. His beauty liked the beast lurking inside him. She was fearless that way and proved on many occasions that she could take whatever he dished out.

“We don’t make love until you tell me what all this is about.”

Her frustrated growl didn’t deter him in the least. Sex wasn’t always the answer. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

“Meghan.” There was a warning in his tone.

Despondent, confused, horny, unhinged—she felt all those things and more. Giving in to the demand in Alex’s voice, she pushed him away and sat against the headboard.

“My brother hates me.”

He stiffened. For a brief moment, she felt sorry for Finn. Alex wasn’t going to take kindly to her brother’s hurtful behavior.

“Excuse me?”

Meghan pulled him close and turned into her husband’s warm embrace, snuggling against his chest.

“Please don’t get mad,” she pleaded. “I can only deal with one thing at a time.”

She wasn’t surprised when the beast answered. “Explain what you mean and then we’ll talk about my anger problems.”

Stroking her man’s wide chest, she rubbed her fingers in the dark hair she found so sexy and sighed loudly.

“He thinks I’m spoiled. And obnoxious.”

This time, when he barked, “Excuse me?” Meghan flinched at the sound of his anger.

“I think he might be right,” she admitted in a small, uncertain voice.

“The fuck he is not right,” her furious Major bellowed.

She quickly sat up and scooted sideways. He tried to keep her close, but she shook her head, pushed some loose strands of hair behind her ear, and sat cross-legged next to him.

She asked the question that had been dogging her since she and Finn argued. “Did you know that Deval is separated from his wife?”

Her eldest brother and new husband had bonded during the months leading up to the wedding. If anyone could confirm or deny what Finn insinuated, it was probably Alex.

“That little shit,” he muttered darkly.

Meghan leaned on her elbows and picked at the linens. “Sooo,” she answered with a long sigh, “I’m taking that as a yes.”

He didn’t say a word. What the hell was that? Some unwritten bro-code thing? She was Dev’s sister, for Christ’s sake. What else was everyone keeping from her? Had her vision of a happy O’Brien family all been fake?

Finally, when she worried more tears were searching for a parking spot so they could join in the fun, she chomped down on her lip and cleared her throat.

“I don’t like secrets. Eventually, they’re revealed, and somebody always gets hurt.”

The play of emotions battling out in his expression told her a lot. He knew more than she imagined. On one hand, she understood why he’d cut her off from every living soul on the planet except him during their honeymoon. Others might find his absolute control strange or even worrisome, but she saw it differently.

In the compound, people surrounded them. A quiet, uneventful day did not exist where Family Justice was concerned. Seriously. Today was a perfect example, which was one of the reasons why they’d stayed away so long. It was vitally important to her husband that their married life began with just the two of them. No outside influences. No families. No work. No extraneous bullshit. It was, he pointed out, probably the only time in their lives that they’d truly be off the grid. Alone. Husband and wife. Lovers. Partners.