Fast Justice

by Kaylea Cross

  By the time he’d cleaned her and set her down on the built-in bench along the back wall she felt drugged with arousal, a languid, syrupy warmth rather than the blazing fire of before, yet every bit as intense.

  She flexed into his hold, rubbing her achy breasts along his slick chest, telling him without words that she needed more than tenderness right now. Malcolm’s eyes darkened and he cupped both mounds in his large hands, bending to tease the hard centers with his lips and tongue.

  Pleasure streaked through her, arching her spine, her hands holding his head close. Demanding more. Offering everything she was to him: heart, body and soul, nothing held back. She made a soft sound in the back of her throat, this level of vulnerability with another human being completely new, thrilling and frightening at the same time.

  “I got you, sweetness,” he murmured against her hot flesh, one hand sliding down to curl around her hip in a possessive grip. He tugged her forward a little, his palm pressing at the small of her back as he sank to his knees before her and used his other hand to ease her knees apart. “Remember what I said I would do to you next time?” he asked against her stomach.

  The next time I get you naked, I’m gonna take my time and kiss you everywhere. Especially here, he’d said, rocking his erection between her thighs. Until you melt all over my tongue.

  Her muscles tensed once, a quiver rippling through her, turning the melting heat between her thighs into a liquid pool of need. “I remember,” she whispered back, running her hand over the back of his head, watching his every move as he made good on his vow.

  His lips worshipped her naked skin, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to her face, neck, breasts. Her shoulders. Breasts again, then her ribs, belly, and the tops of her thighs. He kissed every mark and bruise, kissed every bit of her he could reach, ending with the soles of her feet before slowly working his way back up the inside of one leg.

  Rowan bit her lip and waited, dying a little, the pulse of arousal between her thighs overtaking everything else.

  Settling his hands on her inner thighs to keep them apart, he lowered his face and nuzzled the soft, flushed folds there. She tightened her hold on his head and moaned a little, arching her hips to press against his hot mouth.

  His lips were so incredibly soft, the stroke of his tongue over her clit making her shudder. She widened her thighs and gasped out his name, her head falling back, each soft swirl of his tongue sending her closer to the edge.

  He didn’t rush her, took his time licking and caressing, building the pleasure before sinking into her core. Tasting the arousal he’d created before coming back to give her swollen clit more of that same loving attention.

  “Malcolm,” she groaned, shuddering. It didn’t take long before she was panting, eyes closed, lost to the rising tide of sensation, craving the release that glowed just on the edge of the horizon.

  Then he stopped.

  Her eyes popped open in shock. “No, I’m—”

  “Gonna make you come while I’m inside you,” he said in a dark, possessive voice that shot another thrill through her, and hauled her upright, setting her on her feet before turning her to face the wall.

  She planted her palms flat against the wet tile and looked over her shoulder at him, waiting. Water sluiced over his beautiful brown skin, his erection standing thick and proud from his body as he rolled a condom down his length.

  Settling behind her, he pulled her hips back, arching her spine so he could ease his cock into position, a hot, heavy brand against her super-sensitive flesh. She moaned and dropped her forehead against the wall when he slid it along her folds, the slick caress against her clit sizzling along her nerve endings, and yet not nearly enough.

  “I love the way you wrap around me when I slide inside,” he whispered against her neck as he did just that, pushing the thick, hard head of his cock into her.

  Rowan hummed in her throat and pushed back to meet him, but he stilled her with a solid grip on her hip. Once she obeyed he slid that same hand up to cradle her breast, his thumb and forefinger playing with the nipple, and reached his other hand up and to the right.

  A moment later a stream of warm sluiced over her thighs. It moved up her folds to stimulate her swollen nub.

  Her whimper turned into a throaty moan as he hit just the right spot.

  “Right there?” he whispered, nipping gently at her skin.

  She could only nod and brace herself against the wall, unable to form a single coherent thought, much less a word.

  “Oh, sweetness, you have no idea how goddamn good you feel,” he ground out, and flexed his hips, burying his cock inside her.

  Rowan mewled and fought to hold still, needing the stream of water exactly where it was but dying for more of the internal friction he gave her. “Oh God, just fuck me,” she gasped out, unable to help herself.

  Malcolm let out a low, erotic growl and eased back to thrust forward once more. Slow, steady strokes that hit her inner sweet spot while the warm water caressed her clit and he teased her sensitive nipple. Her body tightened, gathered in on itself, preparing for the coming explosion. She gave herself to it, crying out her pleasure, writhing in his arms.

  He released her breast and put the shower head back in place, both muscled arms coming around her to cradle her to him, careful of her tender ribs, and thrust deeper. Rougher, his teeth scraping along the tender skin where her neck and shoulder joined.

  Rowan reached one hand back to grasp the back of his head and braced herself with her free arm, reveling in his need for her. His arms held her fiercely, a strangled roar coming from him when he buried himself deep and started coming.

  Slowly they both relaxed, Rowan leaning both forearms against the wall as their panting breaths mingled with the rush of the water.

  With a soft kiss on her shoulder Malcolm withdrew gently and rinsed them both off. He even dried her off, spending extra time on her hair, dropping tender kisses all over her face. But the best part was when he gathered her close once more and carried her to his bed, where he drew her into his arms and pulled the covers over them both.

  Boneless, utterly relaxed, she draped herself over him, her body all but melting into his. She yawned, head on his solid shoulder, his heart beating inches below her cheek. Today had been a nightmare in so many ways. She was so damn lucky it had ended this way.

  “I knew you’d come for me,” she whispered in the darkness, breathing in the scent of soap and the man she loved more than anything.

  Even in the bleakest hour when all seemed lost, she’d known that whether she was alive or dead, Malcolm would find her. That he would take care of her, no matter what. It had given her courage, and also a measure of peace that had startled her.

  His arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her head. “Always, sweetness. I’ll always be there for you.”

  She smiled against his skin, the vow reverberating deep inside her, like the pitch of an internal tuning fork. “I love you.”

  He made a gruff sound that might have been a groan of gratitude. “God, I love you too.”

  He was finally hers again. But the best part was, this time she was his in return.

  All of her, body and soul.

  Epilogue

  “Shall we say grace?”

  At Pops’s question that wasn’t a question at all, but rather a command, Mal reached his left hand out to Gram, and his right to Rowan. Meeting her gaze, he gave her a little smile as they all joined hands around the old wooden table that had been in the house since before he’d come to live there, and bowed their heads.

  “Heavenly father, thank you for the food before us, the family beside us, and the love between us,” Pops said. “Amen.”

  “Amen,” everyone chorused.

  “Oh, I love that,” Rowan murmured, smiling over first at Pops, then Mal.

  She squeezed his hand before letting go and he slid his onto her knee, pushing the hem of her skirt a few inches up her bare thigh so he could sweep his thumb over
her silky skin. She darted a warning look at him and grabbed his hand, but he kept it right where it was. Any excuse he got to touch her, he was taking it.

  “One of my favorites,” Pops said. “Short and sweet. So, Rowan,” he said as he helped himself to the bowl of mashed potatoes. “I understand you’ve been through a tough time lately. How are you doing now?”

  Mal mentally winced at Pops’s blunt question and squeezed her thigh gently in silent apology. Pops had a big heart, except he wasn’t always necessarily tactful in his delivery.

  But he should have known Rowan would handle it with grace and poise. “That’s one way to put it, yes,” she answered evenly, not seeming at all offended. “I’m doing pretty well, I think. It’s been an eventful and trying few weeks, but I was fortunate to have Malcolm there to stand by me through everything. I don’t know what I would have done without him.” She gave him a private smile, her heart shining in her eyes, and it filled his whole chest with warmth.

  The eight days since the incident had been a whirlwind of interviews, appointments and meetings with various agency personnel and other investigators. Montoya and Nieto were both still in the wind, despite an ongoing manhunt.

  Though Rowan had faced most of this past week alone while Mal was with his team, she’d done so bravely, facing it all head on. And at night, it was his privilege to hold her close in the darkness, be there for her through the bad dreams and the insomnia.

  The Ruiz trial was scheduled to begin in another month, and Mal had managed to get the weekend off to bring her up here. He’d wanted to get her away from everything, but also to meet the people he loved the most, besides her and his teammates.

  “Well we’re just glad everything worked out and that Malcolm has brought you here to visit us,” Gram said, shooting her husband a warning look and jabbing him in the ribs with a sharp elbow.

  “What?” Pops said, all surprised innocence. “What are you jabbing me for, woman?”

  “It’s her first visit, John, and that’s hardly dinner table conversation, let alone the kind of question to be asking her right now after all she’s been through.” Smoothing out her expression, Gram turned a warm smile on Rowan. “Sorry about that, dear. You just ignore him and talk with Malcolm and me.”

  Rowan hid a grin behind her napkin, covered a chuckle with a cough before lowering it back to her lap, clearly having figured out who really wore the pants around here. Pops liked to think he was head of the household, but only because Gram allowed him to believe it. “It’s fine, really.”

  “Well why can’t I ask her?” Pops argued, glaring at Gram now. He gestured at Malcolm. “He brings her home, that means it’s serious, so I want to get to know her. How am I supposed to get to know her without asking real questions?”

  Gram jabbed him again with her elbow, making Pops’s eyebrows shoot up. “Pass the gravy, Malcolm dear. Rowan, try this meatloaf. It’s Malcolm’s favorite.”

  “It’s the glaze. She makes it every time I come home,” Mal said, and passed it over to Rowan. “Maybe we can have that conversation later on tonight, Pops,” he said to his grandpa, smothering his own grin. His grandparents were a trip. Almost fifty years together and they never lost their devotion to one another.

  Pops scowled and stabbed a bite of meatloaf, shoving it into his mouth. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Pops, Malcolm tells me you’ve preached for over forty years here in Detroit,” Rowan said, tactfully changing the subject as she took two slices of meatloaf.

  Pops lost the scowl, his expression brightening. “That’s right. Same two churches the whole time.” He shook his fork at Malcolm, his expression full of pride. “Raised this boy right. Church every week, and Sunday school on top of that when he was little. Our Malcolm’s a good Christian man.”

  “Yes, he is,” Rowan agreed, her eyes laughing at Mal, who was back to stroking her inner thigh now.

  After that, the conversation flowed easily around the table. They answered questions about how they met, Rowan talked about her family and her job.

  “I think it’s wonderful that God’s brought you two back together again after all this time,” Gram said, her expression delighted.

  Pops nodded in agreement. “He works in mysterious ways.”

  “That he does,” Rowan said. “But I’m grateful for it.”

  With that, his grandpa was utterly and completely charmed. As the conversation progressed his expression turned from curious and speculative to one of admiration and enthrallment. Then Rowan helped clear the table and insisted on serving dessert—homemade banana cream pie, Mal’s favorite—winning Gram’s heart forever.

  After coffee he and Pops started on the dishes while Gram took Rowan into the living room to show her some photo albums of Mal when he was little. Pops shot him a look out of the corner of his eye as Mal washed a serving platter and handed it over. “Been a long time since you brought a lady friend to meet us,” he said slyly.

  Mal nodded, enjoying the game. “Long time.”

  “This one’s as smart as she is beautiful.”

  “She is.”

  “Smart enough to make you buy the cow instead of giving the milk away for free.”

  Mal couldn’t help but laugh as he turned to face the man who’d raised him. “The cow analogy, Pops? Really?” He already planned to ask Rowan to marry him. But it was fun watching Pops get all worked up, so he didn’t tell him.

  Pops’s gray eyebrows snapped together. “I’m just saying, you don’t wanna lose her, then do something about it. None of this modern living together crap before you decide to make an honest woman out of her. We raised you better than that.”

  “For heaven’s sake, John, hush your mouth and leave the boy alone,” Gram muttered, coming up behind them to get the magic bars she’d baked earlier. “Here, have this,” she said, popping a little square of one into Mal’s mouth, and patting his cheek. “It’s so good to have you here, sweetheart. We’ve missed you.”

  Pops frowned at her. “Where’s my bite?”

  “In the pan, when you finish interrogating him and come into the living room where you’re going to act like a civilized human being and watch what you say,” she shot over her shoulder.

  “Forty-eight years,” Pops muttered, shaking his head at her. “Forty-eight years of devotion and fidelity to her, and that’s what I get.”

  “Who’re you trying to kid, you love her sass,” Mal said.

  Pops didn’t answer as he went back to drying dishes, but a grin was tugging at his mouth.

  They all visited for another couple of hours, Pops on his very best behavior. But Mal was anxious to get Rowan back to the hotel.

  Wrapping his arm around her, he made their excuses and pulled her to her feet. She hugged his grandparents at the door, and Mal could tell by the gleam in his Gram’s eyes that she knew Rowan was The One. She stopped him on the doorstep. He gestured for Rowan to go on to the car and faced his grandmother.

  “I’m so happy for you, Malcolm,” she said, her eyes shining with tears. “She’s wonderful.”

  “Wonderful,” Pops echoed, settling his arm around Gram’s shoulders.

  “I’m glad you both think so,” Mal said, his heart overflowing with love for them all. “And I’ll tell you what, though I hated every minute of it, she was worth the wait.” He hugged them both, kissed Gram’s papery cheek. “I’ll call you in the morning. Rowan and I would like to take you both to dinner before we fly out.”

  “We’d love that,” Gram said, leaning her head on Pops’s shoulder, her smile dreamy.

  Malcolm was halfway to the rental car when Pops called out to him. “Malcolm. Just remember, milk isn’t free!”

  “John,” Gram admonished, and Mal didn’t have to look back to know that she was delivering another jab to the old man’s ribs. Grinning to himself, he raised a hand in farewell and kept walking to the driver side door.

  “They’re amazing people,” Rowan said to him as he drove away, her fingers l
aced tightly through his.

  “They are. I’m lucky to have them.”

  “Thanks for bringing me here.” She leaned close to trail her fingertips down the side of his cheek, down his neck.

  He met her gaze, his blood heating at the sensual promise and love in her eyes. “Thanks for coming with me.”

  It took way too long to get back to the hotel. Once there, he hurried her into the elevator and caged her in against the wall, his hands in her thick, glossy hair as he kissed her with all the hunger and need he’d been suppressing all day. By the time they reached their room, they were starving for one another.

  Their clothes lay scattered hastily on the carpet as he took her down on the bed and covered her naked body with his own, then proceeded to make love to her until she was crying out his name and arching beneath him in climax. Only then did he allow himself to let go and lie panting for breath in her arms.

  Groaning in utter contentment, Mal rolled over and pulled her into his arms, cradling the side of her face with one palm. “I’m gonna marry you,” he whispered.

  She stilled, then arched an inky brow, a slow smile curving her mouth. “Is that right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She hummed and wiggled closer, sliding a sleek, bare thigh over his hip. “Well we’ll see about that, won’t we? First you’ll need to talk to my father. Not that I want or need my father’s permission or even care whether he approves or not, I just like the nostalgia of it.”

  “Already did.”

  She blinked at that. “You did? What did he say?”

  “Something about wondering whether I could support you financially.”

  She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Of course he did.” She slid her finger down the length of his nose. “But you still haven’t asked me.”

  He’d intended to wait until tomorrow after dinner, where he’d planned to propose in a romantic spot he’d picked out in the park bordering the restaurant. But fuck it. He didn’t want to wait another day to do this.