Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3)

by Halliday, Suzanne

  Brody’s brand of enforced chastity was making her crazy. His refusal to sleep with her stayed firm, although what point he was hoping to make eluded Heather. Especially since he’d been faithfully and most deliciously seeing to her needs at every drop of the hat. The man came with one setting—an insatiable hunger for pussy. Hers. Ever since her mom’s surprise visit and what happened after, he’d been single-minded in his focus. Each time she closed her eyes, she could see the image of her sexy cowboy planted between her thighs.

  As for the question he asked? Heather remembered the moment with crystal-clear clarity. When he said ‘an important question’, her heart almost exploded. Out of nowhere she imagined he was going to propose. God almighty. She’d actually thought he wanted to ask that question.

  But marriage was the furthest thing from Brody’s mind. Marriage with her, anyway. When he’d gone on and on about this Meghan person as if she was the first and only woman ever to get married, Heather felt like screaming. The respect he felt for the groom and his obvious emotional connection to the man all that stopped her from overreacting. Brody spoke of Alex Marquez in epic, heroic terms that she found intriguing. He must be quite a guy.

  After a long-winded soliloquy, he’d stunned her into complete, confused silence by formally requesting she accompany him to the family event, even making a specific pointed reference to the occasion being a coming out for them. It was clear he wanted the people who matter most in his life to know they were together. As a couple.

  It was getting old, though. The nagging worry that once again, someone else was carrying her along on their journey. Why couldn’t she find joy in their changing dynamic? Was she so fucked up by the past that she still couldn’t move forward?

  Finally opening the text screen, she lightened instantly. Brody sent a selfie of him and George. She’d dropped the pup at Suds ‘n’ Paws before work. Snorting a laugh, she smirked at the very idea that she owned a damn dog that liked going to a doggie spa. No. For real. That was happening.

  Her, ahem, boyfriend … dutifully volunteered to pick up the freshly groomed canine so she didn’t have to rush in traffic. Not for the first or even the last time, she wondered if his overprotective streak was a result of his military experiences or the loss of his parents at a young age. Part of it, at least, was innate. Something about his take-charge ways was soothing. He didn’t smother or restrict. That wasn’t his style. He was just always … there. Quiet. Watchful. Aware.

  One of us cleans up nice. She chuckled at his text. I believe his groomer mentioned something about manscaping. I hope she was joking.

  Manscaping, huh? Good grief. Was he that clueless? She knew the groomer he referred to. Her name was Dawn, and she gave off an unmistakable predatory vibe. And Brody with his scruffy blond-ish good looks and sexy smile always managed to get the girl’s eyes blazing. Silly bitch was flirting with him and he didn’t even realize it. How damn funny.

  His next text totally threw her. What are you wearing?

  What? Oh, my god. Did he want to play? She was seriously over all this good guy manners shit. As she’d recently confessed in her journal … Sometimes a girl just needs some dick.

  That salacious thought got squashed to hell seconds later when he texted, If you’re not all dressed up, I thought we’d go for a walk. The three of us. One big happy.

  Was he kidding? Of course, he wasn’t, and that was the problem. He was dead serious. Take a walk. Her, him, and George. Like a little family. Her teeth clenched. Annoyance or horny frustration? Both, dammit.

  You know what? She was sick of waiting. The shuddering orgasms he gave with his face buried between her legs were nice. Well, more than nice. But all this focus on her pleasure, JUST her pleasure, was making her twitchy. Maybe it was time she asserted herself. Just a little. And see what happened.

  Pushing back from her desk, she angled the camera on her phone toward the floor and snapped a picture of her legs and the shoes she wore. In no way a walking shoe, she was wearing her favorite daytime heels. A pair of suede ankle strap pumps, Louboutin’s no less, that she’d scored at a secondhand shop.

  These pretty babies are not made for walking. Pressing Send, she chuckled and waited for a reply. Didn’t take long at all.

  Pantyhose or garters?

  Well, alrighty then! Wonder where his limit was?

  Glancing at the office door to make sure it was closed and no one was watching, she peeled back the skirt of her dress, high enough to reveal the garters holding up her sheer black silk stockings.

  Heather started wearing the sexy garters and lace top hosiery at Brody’s request. One evening over dinner, he’d let it slip that he thought pantyhose were the work of Satan’s minions. Some yada yada yada about tights being for dancers and a lot of manly growling having to do with women being women. She’d thought it funny at the time. And then she ordered a complete wardrobe of satin, silk, and lace.

  Snapping a couple of pictures, she chose the one that showed her legs crossed with the garters and stockings visible.

  Once again, his response was instantaneous.

  I know what you’re doing.

  Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it? she texted back.

  You might not like my answer.

  Communicating like this wasn’t easy. Not seeing his face or body language was dangerous. She sensed the shift from playful to serious, but what if she was reading him wrong?

  Try me. You might be surprised.

  You. Wearing nothing but black lingerie and those heels. Bent over my Tantra chair. Legs wide.

  Holy shit. She started to pant and all he was doing was texting words.

  That soft limit? Your fear of being submissive? Gone. Out the window. I know this is what you want.

  Brody

  Hush. You asked and now you listen.

  She swallowed hard. What an idiot she was to think she could rile him up and not pay a price.

  You’ll have to be punished for playing the tease.

  Punished? Oh, shit. He was pushing her limits, but rather than tense up and run for the hills, her body ached for whatever he planned. They’d fucked like porn stars in every conceivable position except this one. There was something so surrender-ish about him taking her from behind.

  Maybe I’ll leave you standing there. Bent over. Waiting. Until your pussy is wet and swollen.

  Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god.

  While a firm spanking would be in order, I’m not sure you wouldn’t end up liking your pretty ass getting pinked. So instead, I’d just pull your panties to the side and sink my cock until my balls rub your clit.

  She gasped and put a hand on her chest. Oh. My. GOD.

  I know you, m’lady. And you’d wiggle that sexy ass while I was deep inside. Now THAT will definitely get a smack or two. Hold still. Hold very still. And when you do as you’re fucking told, I’ll put my hand in the small of your back and you’ll give me your wrists to hold.

  She squirmed in the chair as excitement raced through her. This was getting dangerous, but she didn’t want him to stop.

  Knowing she was playing with fire, she quickly typed, Am I very wet?

  Dripping, he replied. Don’t believe me? Just listen to the sounds your pussy makes as I pump my cock deep and withdraw. Over and over. Hear it? That’s what your pleasure sounds like. Hot. Juicy. Dripping.

  He paused and she almost melted with arousal.

  Legs spread. Bent over. Panties pushed to the side. Hands behind your back. You take the pounding as my cock claims you DEEP. Maybe I’ll let you come. Maybe I won’t. That’s what happens to good girls who tease.

  How does this end? she asked.

  Simple. My cock deep enough that when I come, you’ll feel every pulse of me emptying inside you.

  Long minutes passed. She tried to catch her breath. He said nothing else. Tremors rushed along nerve endings raw with need. This dance was killing her. He kept showing her what life with him would be like, then back off and wait her ou
t. Heather knew all the real next moves were up to her, but she wasn’t sure enough of herself to act.

  Everything he said required a leap of faith. He wanted her to take the leap. With him. Going together to the wedding in Boston was part of it. His motives were clear, and it wouldn’t do any good to test him. Why bother? She already knew how serious he was; plus, he’d made it abundantly clear it wasn’t an either-or situation. He was willing to forego his dreams and stay in Maryland if that was the only way to be with her.

  Suddenly, she felt like a bitch.

  Truth time. She wanted him. Desperately. She enjoyed being his friend. They were good together, and yes, she really did trust him. Putting her grown-up undies on might be a good idea. What did she have to lose besides her heart?

  I’m just gonna say this. I need you.

  Does that mean you’re ready? For all of it. Not just the physical. All.

  God knows I want to be. Ready. I’m afraid. You know why.

  I need you too.

  Bring the dog home.

  Is that it? Just … bring the dog home.

  Actually, I have a question. About the Tantra chair.

  It was in storage. When I came back at Christmas, I started clearing out my unit. Did I think about you when I moved it to my apartment? Yes. And NO. It was never used – never even sat on before.

  How the hell did he do that? And they weren’t even in the same room. Sheesh. Reading her damn mind came way too easily to him. Well, shit. Now, what did she say?

  Honesty seemed best. Honesty and humor. Ah. I see. So did it come with a manual or some instruction videos?

  LOL. My good girl has a naughty side. Videos, hmm? I’ll see what I can do. Now, get your ass and those banging shoes home. George needs to be fed.

  Ah ha ha. Will do.

  “THAT DOG IS like a warm-blooded garbage can. He’ll eat anything.”

  “I certainly hope not … everything,” he chided with a shit-eating leer. “This alpha doesn’t like sharing.”

  “Can you take any statement and make something sexual out of it?” Her soft laughter made his shaft twitch.

  Brody shrugged. “Comes with the Y chromosome. And isn’t making something sexual out of nothing how an ad like Got Milk gets so much attention? The underlying implication isn’t all that subtle.”

  “Yes, well be that as it may. As he gets bigger, I think George is going to eat me out of house and home. Remember when he inhaled an entire large meat lover’s pizza?”

  Yeah, he remembered. Was funny as hell too. He’d come by with pizza and beer but got distracted five minutes after arriving. She’d been all over him like a prickly heat rash the second he’d come through the door. That time he got an appetizer and she screamed the walls down when she came. And George? He’d gotten the pizza.

  “Aw, he’s just a growing boy, is all,” he jested. Scratching the pup’s head, he laughed at the dog’s wide-eyed innocence. It was an act, of course. Part bird dog, ol’ Georgie could sniff out a single french fry hidden in a mound of blankets. The pizza didn’t stand a chance once they were distracted.

  After their earlier text exchange, he expected her to make demands once they were face-to-face. He wasn’t a complete ass. Brody knew that by withholding intimacy, he was pushing all of her buttons. But she was a fast learner. That and as he’d come to suspect, when the protective layers were stripped away, she was a natural submissive. Until she could fully embrace this part of her nature, she’d always be chasing a half-life. And he was going to make sure that didn’t happen.

  The way he saw it, the going along with mantra that fucked so badly with her sense of worth was nothing more than Heather’s impulse to please. That response in the wrong hands could be easily damaged. And hers was. Completely.

  Since she’d proven to be the good girl he teased her about being and didn’t try to take charge, he was going to give her what she so desperately needed. Him.

  He could smell her need. Taste it too. He’d been right to shake up their relationship and insist on a well-mannered period of dating with nothing more intimate than some good old-fashioned above the waist making out. A couple of weeks of that and she’d been beyond ready for his next maneuver. Licking her pussy every chance he could.

  Until now, Heather wasn’t much of a fan of the oral arts. Their hookups were hot, straightforward fucking. He was always ready, and she, well … she was too. Not a lot of need for foreplay.

  He always figured that going down on her was one of those things that crossed the invisible intimacy line. His face between her legs was waaaay too personal. My, my how things have changed. Once he’d made it clear that licking her pussy was all she was gonna get out of him, she’d reluctantly given in. he’d enjoyed one long, never-ending feast ever since.

  Shifting his stance, he leaned close and boxed her in with his chest and shoulders. She never failed to react to the subliminal power play. Raising her eyes to his, she waited.

  “Are you still hungry?” They’d put away a ton of Buffalo wings, destroyed a side salad, and sucked down a few beers. George was fed, walked, and ready to curl up. The kitchen was clean. Dessert was next on the menu.

  “I seem to have lost my appetite,” she whispered. Her soft breath on his skin excited him. He wanted more. Only not on his face.

  Closing the distance between them, he reached for her hands, raised both above her head, and pressed them against the wall behind her. Settling the thick ridge of his shaft into the softness of her belly, he growled low and looked down into eyes sparkling with desire.

  “How ‘bout we try and change that, hmm?” Transferring her wrists to one of his hands, he used the other to trace the outline of her mouth. Her lips parted and he smiled knowingly. When he pressed his thumb, she opened and he slipped it inside. Immediately, her tongue greeted the intrusion and sucked it deeper.

  Dipping close to her ear, he grunted. Her hair vibrated from the earthy sound. “Your mouth seems hungry enough.”

  He wasn’t disappointed or surprised when his words made her tremble. He’d hoped for this. A moment when he was man and she was woman and none of their human failings or fears mattered. They were dancing around the edges of what was the most basic, most fundamental, and most deeply primal about the human condition.

  Pushing his thumb deeper, emboldened by her response, Brody embraced his dominant side. Using the advantage of his size and strength, he crushed her against the wall, grinding his hard-on into her as he squeezed her wrists tight and kept them anchored high enough that she was almost on her toes. All the while, she moaned quietly and sucked on his thumb in a way that sent lustful signals to his cock.

  Releasing her suddenly, she slumped and wobbled as he stepped back. Searching her face for reassurance, he looked at her with eyes he knew were hungry and probably a bit menacing.

  “Take your dress off. Now.”

  “Here?” she asked with a frown. He watched her glance around with uncertainty.

  They were in the dining room, the scene of quite a few raunchy encounters. It wasn’t like taking her on the antique table wasn’t already a satisfying memory. In fact, he vividly remembered spreading her out on the polished wood and putting her legs on his shoulders before giving new meaning to the term screaming O. It was a damn wonder the neighbors didn’t call the cops because his lady let loose with some pretty loud moments.

  Pushing her out of the comfort zone was one thing but she was already off balance enough. He didn’t want to add to the tension. Not with what he wanted to do.

  “Where would you prefer?” Though he was pretty much ready to eat her alive, he made a real effort to smile reassuringly. She got a say, after all. If she spoke quickly. Too much hesitation and he was going to take matters into his own hands.

  The smile must have done it ‘cause she stopped with the lip biting and shook her head at him like he was a naughty kid caught stealing cookies.

  “How exactly does taking off my dress help my appetite?”

  Wit
h an answer at the ready he grinned when he said it aloud. “You got any of those seafood bibs laying around? The ones that cover the whole chest?”

  “Whaat?” she barked on a strangled laugh. “A seafood bib?”

  Yeah, she was hooked all right. With one finger, he circled her lips then drifted down her chin and onto her neck. At the base of her throat, he detected the rapid beating of her pulse. Sort of matched the throbbing of his dick. But he didn’t stop there, continuing to run the finger down the center of her dress stopping right before her waist.

  “This is a very pretty dress and unless you want it ruined with, um …” He paused and pinned her with a steamy look. “Saliva, either wear a bib or take it the hell off.”

  “Are you suggesting I drool, Mr. Jensen?” It was just flirty banter, but the minute she said it, recognition dawned on her face. Gotcha, he thought with satisfaction and a pulse of excitement.

  Stepping close, he tried not to laugh at how quickly she tried to wind back what she’d said, but it was too late.

  “How much does a psychologist know about biology, hmm?” This time, when he pressed his thumb against her lips, he did it with a suggestive leer. She resisted for one second then let him slide it along her tongue. “The human body is an amazing thing,” he purred in a deep voice. “When your gag reflex kicks in,” he gave her a steady look, “a thicker, more viscous saliva is produced. If we do it right, all that lovely gooey drool makes taking my cock as far as you can in your mouth nothing short of heaven.”

  He pulled his thumb away and watched with satisfaction when she licked her lips.

  “And the more, the better. I have a desire to see you on your knees, saliva dripping off your chin and onto your tits while you swallow my cock. Everything, honey,” he smirked, “is better when wet.”

  He was halfway prepared to get his face slapped. Or for her to start yelling about what a pervert he was. In no way did he expect her to smirk right back in his face. He believed this was her challenge accepted face. Before he said another word, she turned around and gathered her hair over one shoulder. Looking back at him, something that instantly turned his dick to stone, she made a little pout then asked, “Can you help with the zipper?”