by Lori Foster
It wouldn’t be tonight. In fact, he thought, maybe he shouldn’t say anything at all. He’d keep Fallon safe, so he knew no harm would come to her. And maybe if he gave Tom enough rope, he’d either hang himself, or prove his innocence.
Justice decided he liked that plan. Tomorrow, after he fessed up to Sahara, he’d discuss this new twist with Leese. Maybe Armie and Cannon, too, since they’d be around Tom more often.
“Come on.” He walked with Fallon across the dew-wet grass to the curb where he’d parked. Keeping watch up and down the street, he unlocked the door and waited while she got settled inside, then went around to the driver’s side.
Justice waited until he’d pulled away from the curb and driven two blocks before speaking. “I don’t want you to be nervous.”
She folded her arms around herself and, after glancing at him, looked out the windshield. “I’m not.”
“Fibber,” he teased. His heart pounded, he was already half-hard, but he didn’t want her to be uncertain with him. “You know I want you, Fallon. So damned much. But that doesn’t obligate you in any way. If you’d rather take this slow, I understand. It’s your show, and if you want some time to think about things—”
“Things?”
Thinking about it stirred him. “Hot, sweaty, naked sex. With me.”
When she drew in a sharp breath and blinked fast, Justice realized he shouldn’t have been so blunt.
He smiled crookedly. “Sorry, honey, but no one’s ever accused me of being smooth. You already know I want you. But I want you to want me, too. And until you do—”
“I do!” Then she frowned. And laughed. “Why do I keep saying that?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “I want you just as much.”
Justice blew out a relieved breath. “Best news I’ve heard in a really long time.”
“It’s just...” She waffled, cleared her throat. “The thing is, I’ve never... I mean, I almost did with Marcus, but then—”
“Yeah, let’s don’t go there, okay? If I hear the history of you and Marcus, I might get the urge to stomp on him a little, and I’d rather talk about you wanting me.” He considered what she’d said. Curiosity and need sharpened to an acute ache softened only by tenderness. “You’re telling me you’re a virgin?”
She rushed into defensive explanation. “I was young, and then I got burned, and—”
“And you’ll have to trust me that any guy would have been thrilled to get you horizontal.”
She bit her lip and fell silent.
Sooner or later, Justice knew he’d get her to believe him. For now, though, she needed to know he understood. “But yeah, I get it. You’ve been reserved for a while.” He shifted, wishing he could ease the restriction in his jeans because now he had a full-blown boner. “I get to be your first?” To himself he thought, your only. “Gotta say, that’s pretty freaking awesome.”
With a jittery laugh, she pressed her hands to her cheeks. After a moment or two, she asked around a relieved grin, “You really think so?”
Almost too turned-on to talk, Justice rolled one shoulder. “I mean, if you weren’t, I’d be okay with that, too. God knows I’m as far from a virgin as a guy can get.”
A scowl overshadowed her grin.
That made him chuckle. “I’m thirty years old, honey. I hope you weren’t expecting a monk.”
She put up her chin. “I’m not dumb. Of course I expected you to...have experience.”
Done with that topic before he ruined her agreeable mood, Justice said, “So what do you think? My house?”
“Okay.”
That squeaky voice got to him and he glanced at her. “In case you’re wondering, I’m not going to rush you right to bed.” No, he’d do a lot of kissing and touching first.
“Okay.”
Still squeaky. He almost grinned, but instead shifted the subject to give her a different focus. “How weird will it be for your folks if you don’t come home tonight?”
That stumped her. “I don’t know. I’ve never done that.”
Amazing. He knew she was twenty-four, almost twenty-five, but her life had been on hold for so long. Softly, Justice suggested, “You wanna call them and let them know?”
Watching him, she asked just as quietly, “Will I be spending the night?”
Hell, yeah. “I’d like for you to.”
“You’re sure?”
Justice gave it some thought. He hadn’t made a habit of sleepovers. Whenever he did spend the whole night with a woman, it was out of convenience, and never with a woman like Fallon. More often than not, he leaned toward female fans who just wanted a notch on their bedpost. Like him, they wanted a little fun, a little relief and nothing more.
For so long, his focus had been on training. But not anymore. Now he could look at other things, like the future.
“Yup, I’m sure. Even if you aren’t ready for everything I want—” and he wanted a lot “—I’d still enjoy keeping you close.”
“You want me to sleep with you even if we don’t...”
When she trailed off, Justice nodded. “Even if we don’t have sex. What do you think?”
Reaching out, she lightly touched his shoulder. Her voice was as gentle as her touch. “I think I want everything, and yes, I’d love to stay over.” She withdrew her hand and pulled her phone from her purse, then hesitated. “What should I say?”
Hell, he had no idea, not with parents like hers. “When I was nineteen and still living at home, and I knew I’d be out all night, I’d call my mom so she wouldn’t worry.” He glanced at Fallon. “I already told you she’s an award-winning worrier, right? Anyway, I’d just hedge all her warnings by promising upfront that I’d be safe, I’d use protection and I’d be home for breakfast. That was her cue not to wait up for me.”
“Would she do that?” Fallon asked with a smile. “Wait up?”
“Nah, but there were a few occasions when I forgot to call. I’d get home in the morning and she’d be passed out on the couch, snoring real loud, then she’d jerk awake with a start and almost fall on the floor. She’d start right in giving me hell and swearing she hadn’t slept a wink all night.” He laughed remembering it. “No matter how big I got, she claimed she could still give me a whoopin’ if I needed it.” The laughter faded to a slight smile. “So I tried to remember.”
Fallon sighed. “My parents are nothing like your mother. They really might stay up and they’d be thinking every terrible thing you could imagine.”
“Yeah, and I guess the same reassurances wouldn’t work for them, right?” When she looked puzzled, Justice said, “You’ll be safe, I’ll use protection and I can have you home in time for breakfast if you want.”
Fallon laughed and blushed, and in the process turned him on even more.
“You are so pretty.”
She ducked her face, but he could see her mouth curling over the compliment. “Thank you.” She touched in a number and put the phone to her ear. After a moment, she said quietly, “Hi, Mom. I’m sorry if I woke you. Yes, everything is fine. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be out the rest of the night.” She listened, gave a slight nod. “Yes, I’m still with Justice. He thought I should let you know so you wouldn’t worry.” She glanced at him, her gaze playful. “Yes, he is very sweet.”
Justice felt awkward as hell listening in. It was a first, hearing a girl call her mom to make her excuses. Hell, not since high school had he dated anyone who still lived at home.
Fallon glanced at him. “Okay, yes, I’ll tell him. Love you, too. Good night.”
“You woke her up?” he asked as he made the turn onto the street where he lived.
“I think so. But she wanted you to know that she appreciated your consideration.”
No recriminations? Rebecca was astute, so she had to know
how the evening would roll out. She couldn’t be happy that Fallon would be with a man like him—that is, unless she preferred him because she knew he’d protect Fallon.
It was something to think about—but later. Right now, as he reached his driveway, the last thing he wanted to think about was Fallon’s parents.
Using a remote, he opened the garage door and drove in.
Fallon was remarkably silent.
Wooing was not his strong suit, Justice knew. Before now, it had never been necessary.
After he turned off the car, he paused with his hands on the steering wheel, his grip tight as he tried to find the right words.
Fallon’s seat belt clicked as she released it, and the light flashed on when she opened her door and stepped out.
Well hell. She was moving faster than he was!
Justice quit worrying about rushing her as he hurried from the car.
* * *
FALLON DIDN’T WANT to acknowledge her own uncertainty. After all, Justice was definitely different from Marcus. The two men didn’t have a single thing in common, so it stood to reason that Justice’s reaction to her scars would be different.
But fears weren’t rational.
He’d already seen the worst, she reminded herself, and hadn’t in any way appeared repulsed. Encouraged by her internal pep talk, she promised herself it would be okay—if she could just get her erratic heartbeat to slow down a little.
The garage opened into a short hall between the dining and living room, leading into the kitchen.
“Want a drink?”
She shook her head. “No.”
His boyish smile took her by surprise. “How about a kiss, then?”
“Yes.” When he kissed her, she couldn’t think enough to worry.
Slowly, right there in the hallway, he pinned her to the wall. With excruciating buildup, he settled his hot mouth to hers in a damp, firm kiss. At first, he indulged a gentle exploration, his lips teasing over hers, his tongue touching her bottom lip, lightly dipping inside.
The way his hard chest pressed to her breasts made her nipples grow tight. Somehow, in some subtle way, he insinuated one thick thigh between hers—then pressed against her. Fallon ached, already wanting, needing, more.
Coasting her hands over his bulging shoulders, she thrilled at his strength and the flex of firm muscles. He crowded in closer until she felt surrounded by him and the press of his big body curled her toes.
His mouth opened hers with ease and his tongue stroked deeper, hotter.
God, he tasted good and smelled even better. She deeply inhaled his wonderful, stirring scent, then arched up against him, asking for more.
With a hungry sound, Justice held her face in both of his hands and ravaged her mouth. His tongue thrust in to play with her own. She couldn’t think and didn’t want to. Loving how out of control he seemed, Fallon wrapped her arms around his neck and held on.
Long minutes later when he took his mouth to her throat, he whispered, “God, you’re hot.” He drew her skin in against his teeth, making her inhale sharply at the pleasure.
Justice had it wrong. It was his mouth, his damp tongue and his hard frame that was hot.
Near her ear he breathed, “I want to fuck you, Fallon.”
No one had ever spoken to her like that, and hearing it now, in such a gravelly voice, thrilled her.
He grazed the edge of his teeth down the side of her neck to a sensitive spot where it met her shoulder, then gave her a sizzling love bite.
In reaction, her nails bit into his shoulders.
He lifted away to look at her and her knees almost buckled.
Justice had the most beautiful, sinfully compelling eyes, currently filled with raw hunger.
His gaze moved over her face, repeatedly lingering on her mouth until he touched it with gentle fingertips. “I also want to treat you carefully, love you slowly and kiss you everywhere.”
Her heart went into double-time.
Locking his gaze with hers, he whispered, “I want to make this so good for you, Fallon.”
Holding on to him, trying to catch her breath, Fallon knew what she wanted: for him to not stop. She tried a smile to reassure him, but breathing was tough enough. “Honestly, I’m good with either way.”
That heart-melting smile of his made him almost too gorgeous. “Beautiful, sexy and a real sweet-talker. Damn, Fallon, could you be more perfect?”
That sobered her mood. “I’m not perfect,” she whispered. “You know that.”
“Close enough to level me.” Leaning down slowly this time, Justice nibbled along her jaw, her throat, and as he pulled the neckline of her shirt aside, he licked her neck. She felt the rasp of his tongue and his hot breath.
She hadn’t realized her neck would be so sensitive. The way he drew on her skin kept her heart slamming in her chest. When his teeth tugged on her earlobe, she groaned softly.
She felt one of his big hands going down her spine all the way to her backside. He cuddled her, made another rough sound and came back to her mouth, but not for long.
Grabbing her hand, he started for his bedroom in a long, hurried stride.
Breathing hard in anticipation, Fallon laughed and rushed to keep up.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JUSTICE KNEW HE was about to lose it. Damn it, she deserved better than a wham-bam quickie, but it was all he could do to keep from having her there in the hallway. He wanted her naked, him naked, skin on skin.
He wanted to slide into her, feel her squeezing him tight.
And he wanted it now.
The bedroom, he decided. He at least had to make it to the bedroom—even though it felt too damned far away.
He got her into the room, closed the door and very deliberately put a little space between them. He couldn’t touch her. Not yet. If he felt her softness, he’d cave again and be all over her.
Even amid the raging lust, he knew getting her clothes off was important. She had to know—had to see—that he wouldn’t be put off by her burns.
Hell, at the moment, a tornado might not dampen his need.
Had he ever wanted a woman with this much desperate, clawing need? Maybe his first, but he doubted it. He knew what blind lust felt like, but this, with Fallon, was hotter, stronger, deeper.
It almost overwhelmed him.
As if she needed the support, Fallon leaned back against the wall, her chest billowing with her fast, deep breaths. Her heavy lidded eyes watched him closely, her expression sultry.
Justice held her gaze as he peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Sitting on the bed, he removed his shoes and socks. His attention never left her.
If she got skittish, he needed to know.
As she stared at his naked chest and shoulders, her lips parted and she breathed faster. She put a hand to her throat, her cheeks flushing. He stood again, and her concentrated gaze dropped down to his abs.
God almighty, he loved the way Fallon looked at him, with so much innocent, curious fascination. He was so hard that he strained his jeans. Knowing what would happen, what he’d do, that he’d soon be over her, sliding into her, made his muscles clench.
When he just stood there, letting her look her fill and trying to regain some control, she encouraged, “Go on.”
Justice tried and failed to hold back his grin. “Jeans gotta stay on for now, babe. At least until you catch up.” Once his pants were gone, he’d be gone, too.
In every way, Fallon was a priority—even over his own pleasure. He wanted her to enjoy every second of what they’d do.
She stared at his crotch and Justice felt himself twitch. Much more of that and he’d lose the battle.
“Okay.” Lifting a hand, she touched the buttons at the top of her blouse.
“No.” Anxious to fulfill a private fantasy, he stepped toward her. “Let me.” He’d been dreaming about stripping Fallon bare since the day they’d first met, and by God, he’d savor every second of it.
She went still, a little wary.
“Keep breathing,” he instructed, wanting her as into it as he was.
She nodded, and tensed up even more.
Instead of making a beeline for the buttons, which would quickly leave her exposed, Justice held her face in his hands and spent some time plying her soft, damp mouth with heated kisses. Not a chore at all; the lady had an amazing mouth, and the taste of her...
Thinking of her taste made him throb. He couldn’t wait to lick, suck and nibble on every inch of her fragrant skin, and he would; her breasts, her belly...between her soft, tender thighs.
He held back the groan the visual caused.
Fallon’s skin was warm and silky and he wanted to rub himself all over her.
Lazily, as if he wasn’t on the verge of exploding, he cupped a hand over her left breast—for the moment, steering clear of her scars. Even through her bra and shirt, he found her stiffened nipple with his thumb and strummed over it, drawing it tighter.
She ended the kiss with a sharp breath.
Intent on devastating her, Justice took her mouth again. With a tilt of his head he deepened the kiss, eating at her soft mouth until she melted against him. Carefully, reining in the lust so he could go slowly, he slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt. He forced himself to go slow, to be content stroking his fingers over her narrow waist, absorbing the warmth of her skin before sliding his palm up her side, feeling her through her bra, teasing his fingertips over the upper swell—and then, with only the barest hesitation, he tucked his palm inside to hold her bare flesh.
She quickly ended the kiss again to stare at him with dark, dazed eyes, hazy with need.
Forcing the sturdy bra cup lower, Justice cuddled her breast in his hand. “You little faker,” he murmured, loving the fullness of her, the weight of her heavy breast. “How come your bra hides this?”