Lethal Balance: Sons of the Survivalist: 2

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Lethal Balance: Sons of the Survivalist: 2 Page 23

by Cherise Sinclair


  A glance showed that Father Caz was frowning at her. Oops. “Of course, next time you’ll tell someone before you leave, right? Take a grownup with you.”

  Regan nodded vigorously. “And take my emergency bag.”

  “Good. You saved a precious life and learned what to do better next time. Sounds like a win to me.”

  As Regan held on even more tightly, guilt stabbed JJ in the heart. She hadn’t meant to hurt the girl.

  Caz rubbed his neck and gave JJ a wry smile that said he felt the same way.

  “I take it you’re having fighting lessons?” JJ asked Regan. “Have you learned anything useful?”

  With the resilience of youth, Regan jumped to the new topic. “Totally. How to make a fist and not break my thumb, how to punch, how to get away from someone grabbing me.”

  “Those are great things to know. Only…I thought you weren’t supposed to be fighting.” JJ threw an accusing look at Caz.

  “No jumping to conclusions, Officer Jenner.” Caz’s lips quirked. “Mija, tell JJ what we agreed upon.”

  “If someone is mean, I’ll walk away or use my words and, for sure, tell a grownup. But if they get…phyis—no, physical, then I fight back, cuz Papá says there’s diplomacy an’ then there’s being a doormat, and I’m not a doormat.”

  Now, that diplomacy versus doormat sounded like a quote from the first sergeant. JJ carefully didn’t smile. “That sounds like a well-thought-out response. Very nice.”

  “I know, right?” Regan grinned. “And if I hit someone, I should do it right.”

  Imagining the school turning into a war zone, JJ narrowed her eyes at Caz.

  Although he smiled, his jaw was determined. He believed in Regan’s walking away, but if anyone laid a hand on his girl, he’d ensure she could destroy them.

  Stroking a hand down Regan’s soft brown hair, JJ met his eyes. And nodded.

  * * *

  Caz heard a door slam at the front of Mako’s house—the deck side.

  “Regan, Caz, are you guys in here?” Audrey called.

  “In the training room,” Caz yelled back.

  Audrey appeared in the doorway, blonde hair tucked up under a stocking cap, cheeks pink from the cold. “There you are. Regan, did you still want to bake a cake with me?”

  “I…” Regan bit her lip, looked at the punching bag, then at him. At JJ.

  “Go ahead, mija.” He ruffled her hair. “Maybe JJ will have supper with us tonight and stay for a movie. We can cook her something special.”

  JJ stiffened at his below-the-belt scheme. He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling.

  “Yes!” Regan grabbed JJ’s hand. “Please, please, please?”

  There was not a person in the world who could resist those puppy-dog eyes. JJ tried. “I…um, I should…” And lost. “Sure. I’d love a movie night.”

  The look she shot him should have fried his balls.

  “Excellent. Let’s go then, my girl. You can take some of the cake back to your house for dessert.” Audrey’s speculative look at Caz meant Gabe would be hearing about the tension. She pointed a finger at JJ. “Thanksgiving is next week—big dinner. You will be there, woman, or I’ll sic your boss on you.”

  “Um.” The uncertainty in JJ’s eyes broke his heart. He’d caused that, damn him.

  As the two left the room, she took a step toward the door.

  Caz caught her arm. “No, princesa. We need to talk.”

  “No, no, we do not.” Using the same technique he’d been teaching Regan, she jerked her wrist from his grip. “That was unfair, using Regan to get your way.”

  “Were you playing fair to disappear from our lives without any explanation?” he asked mildly.

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. You know why I’m avoiding you.”

  “Because you’re a coward?”

  Her face flushed such a deep red her freckles disappeared. “I’m no coward.” She shoved him back a step. “Isn’t that the problem, Doc? That I’m not willing to sit on the sidelines of life so you can be comfortable?”

  That was exactly the humbling conclusion he’d reached. She wasn’t the coward—he was.

  Although an apology was on his tongue, he didn’t speak.

  Right now, she was revved for a fight, no matter what he said, partly from her tension and frustration. Partly from biology. In avoiding him, she’d had no exercise or martial arts workouts for several days now, and she normally worked out every day. Fighters needed to fight— which was why he and his brothers would indulge in a roaring melee now and then. Mako had never sat out a brawl.

  “So I can be comfortable?” Caz gave her the same smirk he’d often used to goad Hawk in a fight. JJ wasn’t the only one who needed a down-and-dirty sparring session. “Sí, I’d be more comfortable if you were an accountant. You’re always in my clinic because you get hurt. Maybe you’re accident-prone?”

  Her hands closed into fists. She dropped her purse, yanked off her coat. Her boots and socks followed.

  Then she punched him right in the belly.

  As pain exploded in his gut, he jerked back. “Fuck.” That’d hurt a hell of a lot more than he’d been expecting. The woman knew how to punch.

  Hands raised, she danced lightly on her toes. Ready for more.

  “Very nice, princesa.” He rubbed his gut. “Taunting you into a fight might have been a bad idea.”

  “Taunting?” Her narrow jaw firmed as she realized she’d been set up. But rather than backing off, she started to circle him. She wanted this fight as much as he did.

  He eyed her. She moved like a boxer, but from her stance, he’d guess her preference lay in a hard-kicking offshoot of tae kwan do or Muay Thai. Or a mixture.

  He smiled. This should be fun. “No crippling.”

  “Done.” Her fist popped out at him again, and this time, he moved enough to avoid it. She blocked his return punch. Spinning, she tried to kick his leg out from under him. He stepped out of the way, and they traded a flurry of punches and kicks, most blocked or avoided enough to take the force from them.

  She was grinning, her temper gone.

  His face probably held the same expression.

  She was damn good. His training—years and years, starting with Mako—and added strength meant he’d probably win in an all-out fight, but she was no pushover. In a real fight, he’d have to work for a victory.

  “You’re good, Officer Jenner. Damn good.” He barely avoided catching a kick to his groin and tsked at her. “No crippling, remember?”

  “Broken bones are crippling.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Smashed balls are merely agonizing. Or so I hear.”

  They spun, trading blows, grunting when something got through.

  “What’s the matter, Doc? Trouble keeping up with a woman?” She jabbed right, then left, her footwork a thing of beauty.

  He contrived a look of worry. “Perhaps I am getting slow in my old age?”

  “Yes, I’m sure I see gray in your hair. You’re past thirty, right?”

  His roundhouse—carefully pulled—thumped her ribs, and he followed with a punch to the chin that she barely avoided. “Thirty-one, sí. And you…little one?”

  That earned him a front-kick to his thigh, hard enough to be grateful she hadn’t aimed at his balls. Not that he’d have let that kind of kick past him.

  “Twenty-seven.” She growled at his skeptical look. “The freckles make me look younger than I am.”

  They did, as did the tousled hair.

  “Remember not to hit me too hard,” she snapped. “I might break, you know.”

  Redheads were known for having hot tempers. But hers was fading already. Perhaps because they were both sweating and breathing hard.

  “I will be careful of you, my delicate flower,” he promised and nailed her with a harder punch to her belly. To let her know in the most obvious way that he was being sarcastic.

  Her breath huffed out, and she punched him back, her fist grazing off his jaw.

/>   They were both going to have some painful bruises.

  Time to call it quits.

  “I worry, JJ.” He caught her upraised leg, tossed her onto her butt, and grinned when she regained her feet faster than he’d expected. “I’m sorry I overreacted after your fight. Gabe said you took out four assholes damn fast. He’s proud of you.”

  “He is?” When her expression brightened, his heart took a slow slide. That someone so marvelously competent should feel insecure was due to that asshole Nash.

  If looked at with the same lens, Caz’s overprotectiveness was just as insulting.

  He was an idiot. “I apologize for what I said. I would never want you to quit a job that fulfills you.”

  When her hands lowered, he stepped in fast, grabbed her around the waist, and dropped with her onto the mats. Before she could recover, he moved on top of her. Ignoring her fisted hands, he bracketed her face and took her lips in a long, coaxing kiss.

  Her hands curled around his wrists, pushed.

  Not willing.

  But when he started to move off, she went soft beneath him and slid her arms around his neck. “Caz.”

  “What do I need to do to earn your forgiveness, mamita?” He kissed her stubborn pointed chin, the freckles on her cheeks, her soft lips.

  “It’s okay.” Her fingers tightened in his hair as she nibbled on his jaw. “I know you have a problem with women getting hurt.”

  With women? He’d tried to clarify what he felt for her in the clinic. Apparently, she hadn’t believed him. “JJ, I hate to see someone I care about getting hurt.”

  Her breathing stopped for a second. “No.”

  “Sí. I care for you, mamita.”

  Her turquoise eyes gleamed with tears. “This isn’t like you. You go through women like a hot knife through butter.”

  “I did, yes. My rules used to be: one night only and never someone from Rescue.” Caz felt the barriers that had protected his heart being swept away like autumn leaves in the wind. “Neither of those rules seems to apply to you.”

  Her breathing stopped again.

  He couldn’t keep his heart safe. No longer. Because he wanted more from her than a one night hookup. He paused. She’d been lied to in the past. Hurt. Be clear. “I don’t know what will happen between us in the future, mi princesa, but I would like to see where this leads.”

  “What about Regan? If we…if…”

  That she would worry about his little girl turned him into a marshmallow. “Yes. It seems her mother was…indiscriminate in her men, and Regan has seen more than a child should. Nonetheless, we will be honest with her.”

  “No. She’s still settling in, and we don’t know where we’re going with this. Maybe we can be friends and have”—JJ smiled slightly—“covert sex. Then she won’t be hurt when you…”

  When he broke off the relationship? That wasn’t going to happen. This woman was going to be part of his life. Part of his and Regan’s lives.

  She felt right in a way that no one had, ever.

  “All right, mi corazón.” My heart—yes, that was how he felt. But if JJ would feel more comfortable at a slower pace with no expectations, then that was what they would do. The blunt words would be spoken soon enough. “Friends with covert benefits. For now.”

  “Okay.” Her lips tipped up. “Um…since we’re both already sweaty, want to get even more so?”

  Despite her insecurity after Nash, she was still brave enough to say what she wanted. Was it any wonder he was falling for this woman?

  “Look at you. Initiating sex. Very nice.” He kissed her. Slowly. Tenderly.

  When he lifted his head, her voice came out husky. “And?”

  “I’ve always thought a fight should end amicably.” He lowered his mouth to an inch from hers. “Very amicably.”

  This time, the kiss was deeper, more suggestive, and he was harder than a rock before they were done. However, there were practicalities to consider. “Do you happen to have condoms in your bedroom, mamita?”

  “No. But I carry a couple in my purse over there.” She flushed slightly. “I wanted to be like the guys.”

  “Like the guys, hmm? I should check and see if I can tell your girl parts from boy parts.” Chuckling, he reached out a hand, snagged her purse, and handed it to her.

  Still lying on her back on the mat, she propped the purse on her chest and pulled out her wallet.

  After locking the door, he pulled off his shirt, then, ignoring her gasp, stripped off her jeans and briefs.

  Down on his stomach between her thighs, he pulled her legs over his shoulders. Exertion had left her scent deeper than before. She smelled shower clean with a hint of sweat and tantalizing arousal. And she tasted like the ocean, heady and primal.

  When he licked over her, she dropped her purse.

  Now, didn’t that make a man feel powerful? “I found the girl parts, I think.” Smiling, he applied some effort to see if he could keep his woman from picking the purse back up.

  As he used his fingers, tongue, and lips, her obvious pleasure hummed through him like a song. The lovely quiver of her thighs on each side of his head guided him, as did the clenching of her pussy around his fingers, the hitch in her breathing. So lovely.

  He also felt when her brain restarted. How her body grew tense again. Ah, she was delightful.

  Before she could begin to worry, he lowered her legs. Rising to his knees, he took her hands, pulled her to a sitting position, and plucked the half-crushed condom packet from her fist. After setting it on the mat, he pulled her sweater over her head.

  She stared at him, obviously unsure why he’d stopped.

  “Mmm, no bra.” He played with her enchantingly small, firm breasts. Her nipples were so sensitive, she squirmed when he pulled and rolled them between his fingers. It was tempting to flatten her out on the mats and simply take her.

  Too straightforward. She was a thinker, a worrier, and needed the gift of being relieved of those worries. Something he would very much enjoy doing.

  He walked to the other side of the room and returned with the big exercise ball Gabe had bought for Audrey.

  * * *

  JJ stared at the gray rubber ball—it stood as high as Caz’s knees. “What are you doing, Caz?”

  “Come. Sit.” He pulled her up, sat her on the ball, and smiled. “Lie back.”

  He arranged her body so she lay with her back and head on the ball and her legs holding her butt off the ground. “Am I going to do ab crunches or something?”

  His grin flashed before he shook his head. “This position isn’t exactly right.”

  “What?”

  As he pushed her, the ball rolled beneath her until the cold rubber was beneath her low back and her unsupported head now hung down toward the mat.

  “What are you doing?” She arched her back, flattening her hands on the mat, making a bridge to keep from sliding off the ball onto her head.

  “Perfect.” A low masculine chuckle sounded as he knelt between her legs—and she suddenly remembered she wasn’t wearing any clothing. “Keep your balance, JJ, or you’ll roll off.”

  “I won’t roll off.” After all, her hands were on the floor on one side. On the other side of the ball, her feet kept it from moving.

  His warning became clear when he lifted her legs up and over his shoulders, resting a hand on her stomach. Holding her in place. His mouth came down on her pussy, lips teasing her clit, tongue flicking over it as he slowly slid a finger inside her.

  Oh, God. The pleasure sizzling through her was so intense she wiggled. The ball shifted and started to roll under her, and she squeaked.

  “Stay still, mamita.” He didn’t slow at all. His fingers thrust in and out, moving faster as he sucked lightly on her clit, rubbing the nub with his tongue. His mouth was hot and wet. The fingers inside her intensified every sensation until she needed to squirm—only she mustn’t. Her muscles tensed, keeping her still and on the ball, as the pleasure simmered in every nerve in he
r body.

  He paused for a second, blowing air over her sensitive clit, before engulfing it in warmth, using his tongue on one side, then the other. The needy pressure inside her grew. She tightened around his fingers.

  It built and built until an overwhelming storm of sensation rolled over her. So much pleasure. Wave after wave swept through her. Her back arched farther, her hips bucked. She lost her balance and started to roll sideways. “Help!”

  Laughing, he gripped her hips and held the ball steady. Pulling her up to a sitting position, he hugged her. “I love watching you climax.”

  She was still breathing hard, flushed, naked. And his words made her feel…wonderful.

  His kiss was hard and possessive, then he kissed each sensitive nipple, making her quiver.

  He rose. “Stand up for a moment, mi princesa.”

  After removing his sweatpants, he picked up the condom and sheathed himself. After pushing the ball into the corner, he sat on it, positioned far enough forward on the ball that his testicles dangled, big and heavy. Rising from trimmed black hair, his thick erection was rock-hard.

  She stared, unable to look away.

  “Come here, mamita.”

  There? She pulled in a breath and walked over.

  “Turn around and sit down on me, very slowly. Legs outside of mine.” Guiding her so her back was to him, he held her hip with one hand and his cock with the other.

  Her pussy was still throbbing, every muscle relaxed, and she didn’t have any words to argue. He’d made her come. Just like that.

  His cock hit her entrance and slid inside slowly as he eased her down onto him. He felt huge, hot, filling her completely. “God.”

  His chuckle was rough and dark. He was in, tight and deep inside her. Her legs were outside his, and as he parted his knees, she was opened completely.

  The mirrors around the room showed…everything. Her tangled hair, her nipples peaked tightly, her mound and pussy.

  “We’ll play a bit, sí? I want to feel your hands on me.” Leaning her forward, he took her hands and cupped them around his heavy testicles, showing her how to stroke and tug ever so gently. “Mmm, that’s perfect, mi princesa.”

 

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