Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3)

by Halliday, Suzanne

  When everything was laid out, she stepped around the mound of tissue and bags with a very large Victoria’s Secret bag hooked on her finger. “I suggest you zip it, Mr. Jensen, if you want to find out what’s in here.”

  A grin broke out on his face. Rubbing a hand over his stubbled chin, he gave her a wolfish leer. “Better not be that man thong you keep going on about ‘cause, lady, that isn’t ever gonna happen.”

  When she giggled, he paused with wonder. Discovering this softer side to his ladylove was a sweet surprise.

  “So says the man who lost his shit in Hollywood blockbuster fashion last night. What do you think the title of that movie would be?”

  Witch. She was never going to let him live down not making it back to the hotel before he came in her mouth. He couldn’t help it. What the fuck was he supposed to do when the woman had a wicked tongue and took way too much enjoyment from swallowing his cock?

  “Thar she blows? Oooh, or maybe Cab Gusher-The Untold True Story.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He chuckled. “You just got lucky, m’lady. Snagging one of the Town Cars instead of a public taxi meant I never stood a chance against your sexy mouth.”

  She blushed. He smiled. Since she admitted to having doubts, reminding her in any way he could that she was sexy as fuck was one of his prime missions in life.

  “Seriously. What’s in the bag?”

  Asking what she bought was like strapping into a carnival ride. He was finding out that next to the actual shopping, nothing pleased a woman more than showing off what she got.

  Completely ignoring that they were in mid-flirt, Heather gathered a couple of bags and shooed him toward the sofa. She was completely fucking charming, launching into a presentation that reminded him of a kid in front of a class.

  “Okay,” she said. A quick, thoughtful lip bite followed. “You can’t see everything—some stuff has to be a surprise.” The Victoria’s Secret bag got pushed to the side. Damn. He really wanted to see what was in there.

  Brody had to chuckle when she started at the very beginning. “So the ladies took me shopping.”

  Duh.

  “Victoria’s mother met us. She’s some kind of fashion fairy godmother. Um, something like that, anyway.” She adorably shrugged.

  Spot-on description of Stephanie.

  “This rehearsal whatever y’all have planned-”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Brody interrupted. Bellowing with amused laughter, he sat forward and held up his hands as if he was framing a shot. “Did you just say … y’all?”

  “Did I?” she asked. Her face was a mask of disbelief. “I suppose I did.”

  Now that he’d rattled her cage, he sat back, balanced a booted ankle on his knee, and waved at her to continue. “Cool. Go ahead.”

  Momentarily flustered, her brows bumped together on a frown. Then she did an ‘oh well’ shoulder wag and went right back to what she’d been saying.

  “Anyway,” she drawled, “Stephanie helped me find an outfit for that. Oh, and some crazy shoes I’m sure you’ll love.”

  Clasping his hands in prayer, he turned his face upward and playfully chanted, “Oh please, please, please. Open toe, slingback, come-fuck-me heels.”

  Dryly, and with a snarky smirk, she replied, “Actually, we went with ballet flats.”

  “Did this outfit you speak of pass muster with the ladies?”

  She tossed the hair off her shoulder with a cute headshake and laughed. “Oh, my god. Don’t ever let me loose with them in a store again. It’s like they’re on maneuvers. Victoria goes off and finds the most outrageous things while Lacey is a magnet for anything that screams feminine. And Angie? Sheesh. That one is all about T and A. More boobs and lots of ass. If it’s short and low-cut, she’s all over it.”

  “And Stephanie and Meghan? What parts did they play?”

  That’s when her smile got the biggest.

  “Stephanie could make a stick look runway perfect. For her, it’s presentation. The entire package. Accessories included. But Meghan?” She nodded a second before looking him in the eye. “Your Major’s bride is all about what makes him happy. First and foremost, she’s wired for his pleasure. I love the way she thinks. If your man likes what he sees, it doesn’t matter if you’re wearing a trash bag with arm holes. That’s a direct quote.”

  Well, shit. After that neat explanation, he couldn’t wait to see what she wore. Knowing how seriously the Justice ladies can throw down when it came to one of their signature celebrations, he didn’t doubt his socks were either going to be knocked off or set on fire.

  Opening the zip on a garment bag, she withdrew a dress that he knew, at first glance, was something quite different from anything she normally wore. The über professional woman he’d known favorited plain straight skirts and nondescript blouses that were, in his opinion, too old for her. Pretty but boring. Mostly what she wore said Nothing to see here—move along.

  But the dress she held up? The one he saw her looking at with nervous awe? Whoa. Game changer.

  “This is for the wedding,” she told him timidly. “Yay or nay?”

  He couldn’t move. His tongue froze in his mouth, and whatever brain cells he needed to form words took a lunch break.

  “Please say something.”

  He tried clearing his throat. When that didn’t help, he sat up with both feet firmly planted. Pointing at the dress, he squeaked, coughed, and tried again.

  “Uh, it’s …” He stopped. “Did you know?” Shit. That wasn’t right either. “Your eyes …”

  He must have made some sort of sense because she beamed at him. “It’s the same color as my eyes. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  He nodded like a bobble head doll. Smooth, you asshole. Real smooth.

  “It’s called honeyed lace,” she told him with a husky purr. “I love it.”

  Brody just sat there, marveling at the shimmery bronze. She didn’t have to model it for him to know she was going to look ah-mazing.

  “I’ve never worn anything so … romantic,” she murmured. Her tone was a combination of wistful and hopeful. “Do you see the little black sheath underneath?” Holding the padded hangar closer, she described the finer points that as a guy he’d never even notice. “That’s how they are able to use such sheer lace. Stephanie doesn’t like the silky black sash, so I got a sparkly bronze and gold belt that’ll match the designs on the lace. And the cut of the skirt?” She was practically cooing with delight. “The gathers will make it sway when I walk. It’s divine, don’t you think?”

  “Sway while you walk,” he repeated.

  “Yeah, yeah. Stephanie says your silhouette should always draw the eye with movement.” Shyly smiling she added, “Apparently, men like a little wiggle in the walk. A dress like this is supposed to be a showstopper.”

  “Can you put it on? Let me see for myself?”

  Her open smirk got him all fired up. “Not with that expression, I’m not! Something tells me the dress wouldn’t survive your raunchy pre-game action and I’m not taking any chances with this baby.”

  “Raunchy pre-game action? Is that what you think?”

  She stowed the beautiful dress in the garment bag and draped it lovingly over a chair. “Not what I think, Mr. Jensen. What I hope.”

  He felt a little late afternoon fuckery coming on. “You show me just one thing from that bag,” he challenged with a pointed look at the lingerie she was hoarding, “and I’ll warm us up in the bullpen.”

  Regarding him with a humorous grin, she murmured, “Hmm,” and fished around in the bag. Every so often, she’d glance at him thoughtfully then shake her head and keep on rustling through the tissue paper. It was quite a performance.

  Eventually pulling out a wad of pink tissue, she unwrapped something tealish-blue in color and hung it on her pinky finger. “As requested.”

  What did that mean?

  “Will these do?”

  He took the flimsy teal off her finger and examined it. How the fuck do wome
n know what to do with this shit? From what he saw, there were some straps, some sheer lace, and a degree of sexy engineering that he could barely comprehend. Looking at her with a stupid expression, he shrugged. She’d have to enlighten him.

  “They’re panties! Crotchless. Teal because I liked the color. That’s what you wanted, right?”

  Oh, man. This was too good to be true. “Put them on,” he growled.

  “Ask nicely,” she replied.

  “I wasn’t asking.”

  She stared at him with those mesmerizing bronze eyes. “Oh. Okay.” Turning to the bedroom, she said, “I’ll just be a minute.”

  His response? He eased back against the sofa, man-spread his legs, and rubbed his hand over the hard-on threatening to break through his zipper.

  “One test run comin’ up.” She snickered lustfully before disappearing around the corner.

  When she was gone from his sight, he grunted with satisfaction. Nothing quite like an obedient lover to make a man’s day, and he didn’t give a fuck how sexist that sounded.

  Into the silence of the room, he drawled, “Start your engines,” and then waited for her to return.

  I HAVE A surprise for you.

  Alex stealthily glanced around the big round table at his three companions. As usual after a couple of drinks, they were engaged in a round of who’s the bigger douche and not really paying him much attention. Perfect opportunity to text-play with his naughty bride.

  His thumbs moving rapidly over the phone’s keyboard, he replied. Is it hot? And wet?

  At first, the struggle to remain abstinent with Meghan upping the damn ante at every opportunity had made him a raging, frustrated bear. And then he had a sort of epiphany. One of those out-of-the-blue thoughts you had in the middle of the night.

  He’d had a shitload of surprises along the way in his relationship with the bombshell teacher who came with a set of tits and an ass that made a sane man act like an idiot. But one, in particular, was particularly enchanting and mind-blowing considering what a fierce ballsy female she was. His sexy Meghan had quite a taste for bondage. And him? Well. He was becoming a master with knots. To fully understand the significance of her trusting surrender, he’d really given this a lot of thought.

  Bondage was so much more than rope and restraint. A lot if it was emotional. Symbolic, of course. And he’d discovered that waiting and anticipation were formidable tools in his bondage arsenal. Knowing what was to come but having to suffer through the waiting was powerful bondage mojo. By the time they were finally free to intimately consummate their union, both of them were going to fly.

  In that light … why not a bit of sexting? His perpetual erection wasn’t going away anytime soon as it was, so why the fuck not?

  The eye-rolling emoji appeared in their message. Really? Always the sex with you, Major. Gawd!

  He smiled.

  “Oof!” Cam laughed. “Nerd burn.” High-fiving Drae, he cocked his head at Parker. “Gonna let him get away with that, counselor?”

  His best man, the guy he’d grown up with who knew most if not all of his secrets, and who was now unbelievably saddled with Alex’s pain-in-the-ass little sister, gave his Justice Brothers a dry look. Holding up both fists, he started turning one in a circle—like a crank. The other fist slowly unfurled the middle finger until he was giving the other two men a special salute.

  “Ew! Christ almighty,” Drae groaned. “Put that thing away, would you? Your girlfriend’s brother is watching, you fucking pervert.”

  Before he responded to Meghan’s text, he paused and shot Parker some well-deserved shade. Nobody knew Parker Sullivan as he did and that included a working knowledge of the guy’s preferred kink. All the stuff a brother really didn’t need to know about the man his sister shacked up with. He had the good sense to look somewhat sheepish under Alex’s hard glare.

  The three moved on to more insults and wild stories in a never-ending attempt to one-up each other. Too bad half the shit they spewed was totally made up. Shaking his head, he went back to playing with Meghan and thought about his next response.

  No good? Damn. And here I thought you were going to help me out of my misery.

  I’m going back to the girls if you can’t be serious.

  He pictured her in a t-shirt that read: You can’t scare me. I’m a teacher. It never failed to fire him up when she tried her no-nonsense shtick on him.

  Don’t be a bitch, he typed then snickered when he imagined her outrage at reading the text.

  What have I told you? When you call me a bitch, at least, use my full title. Bitch Goddess to you, sir. Thank you very much.

  Ah. The Bitch Goddess. He liked her very much. She was responsible for almost all of his bride’s attempts to top him, and sometimes, he goaded the naughty BG into trying. Nothing like some creative submissive topping to make things interesting.

  Tell me, my misbehaving Goddess Bitch, is there a SHUT UP you want to add?

  LOL, not until you provide some damn details on this new tally.

  Yeah. He was still working out the details, so he let that one slide. Didn’t want to get pushed into a corner with a quick answer. Not when the situation held so much promise. If he could get away with it and not raise a million eyebrows, he’d install a fancy leather spanking bench in their bedroom. Something he could tie her to as she worked off her naughty points. They’d both enjoy the experience; that was for damn sure.

  Alex spied the wait staff making their way over to the table and reluctantly knew their playful exchange would have to wait. This was a special dinner. Just him and his groomsmen. There were things to say. Things he knew she was going to be saying in a different restaurant across town where she’d gone with her bridal supporters.

  Baby, he typed. The boys are forgetting their table manners. She’d understand what he meant. Can your surprise wait till we’re alone?

  His face lit up with a happy grin when she answered. Meet me in the lobby at 10. I’ll be the one wearing the chastity belt.

  His hunger roared to life when sizzling planks of steak were set on the table. Nothing like a bit of rare, bloody meat to satisfy his inner beast. For now, anyway.

  “Put the damn phone down, Red,” Angie demanded. “If you don’t, I’ll call my kinky pervert of a brother and tell him to give you a rest and go try pump soap and a steamy shower.”

  Meghan gave her a sly smirk. Angie knew damn well they weren’t doing it right now. And why. Never had sticking to her resolve to save the tattoo reveal for their wedding night seemed like such a shitty deal as it did right now. Honestly. If she got any hornier, she was sure her lady parts were going to melt.

  “Done,” she sniped as her phone went facedown on the table. “And pump soap? Really?” She shuddered and pulled a face. “Let me suggest Astroglide X for shower play. I’ll send some to you. Tell Parker, with my compliments.”

  Tori erupted with a loud snorting laugh. “By the way, Angel, thanks for the inside info on the hunky lawyer. Telling us he likes to perform the slide ‘n’ squeeze while you watch just made Meghan’s burn twice as funny.”

  Lacey turned beet red. “Aw, come on. Just for one night, can’t you guys, at least, pretend to be proper ladies?”

  Meghan couldn’t love these three women more if she tried. “I saw what you picked up today,” she teased.

  Lacey’s blond hair, swept into a high, elegant ponytail, swished when she swiftly turned to Meghan. “You promised not to say anything,” she crossly scolded. “Besides. It wasn’t my idea. Heather started it.”

  Angie, having been officially designated the Ladies of Justice Chief of Troublemaking, pounded her hand on the table and boomed, “Crotchless panties for everyone!”

  Meghan looked for a hole to crawl into when the very proper-looking couple at the next table flinched from the racket and turned to glare at them. Victoria surprisingly rescued the situation before things got out of hand.

  “I think a toast is in order. That’s what bridal parties do,
right? Toast and drink?”

  “No drinking games,” Meghan pleaded. “Last time we did that, I had a tequila hangover for days. Who knew a couple of rounds of I Never could be so deadly.”

  Tori reached over and patted her hand. “No worries, Irish. I’ve got my proper lady hat on,” she quipped with a nod at Lacey.

  Angie topped their glasses with the Pinot their waiter recommended.

  Tori took a small sip. “My life was a complete shit show when I came to Justice and met Alex for the first time. I remember that the compound was in a dither over Cameron and Lacey’s wedding. But Alex?” She chuckled. “Boy, he really earned the Big Daddy title.”

  Meghan felt a happy glow. It meant everything to her that her best friends were Alex’s biggest supporters.

  “I showed up one afternoon and had about thirty seconds to get settled before he started throwing work my way. It struck me as kind of odd that this big, hulking man completely immersed himself in a wedding that wasn’t his. But he had this huge, soft spot when it came to a certain Ponytail. I was there, you know,” she said to Lacey. “In the tech cave, when you asked him to walk you down the aisle.” Lacey smiled and sniffed. “I knew then what an amazing man this Alexander Marquez was.”

  A glance at Angie revealed how she struggled to keep it together. The hero worship she had for her big brother was unbreakable. In her eyes, Alex was a king and a movie-star superhero and a god all rolled into one.

  “Getting to know the new Mrs. Cameron, I started to see what I missed out on by being an only child. And then,” Tori said, “one day this redhead with Hollywood bombshell curves dropped by the Villa for lunch. Bet you didn’t know,” she quipped with a wink as she looked at Meghan. “That Lace and I were there while you and the Major sat on the terrace.”

  “And let me guess.” She chuckled. “Carmen was a wellspring of information, right?”

  “You know her. Loyal to the core. She didn’t say much, but she certainly said enough. We knew right then and there that Big Daddy was going down.”

  It all seemed like so long ago, but in fact, an entire year hadn’t passed yet. Amazing. “You kept me from bailing when things got weird.”