Courting Justice

by Brenda Jackson

  Peyton doubted Angelo knew how much everything he’d done meant to her. She’d been determined to spend her birthday alone. Not only had he stopped her from doing so, but he’d made sure it was a birthday she would never forget.

  “Come on, let’s get ready for dinner. The chef will be sending his staff over to feed us soon.”

  Chef? Staff? It all sounded pretty formal, and she was wearing a mini-dress and leggings. He must have read her mind. “You look fine.”

  “But I want to look even better. Give me a few minutes to freshen up.” She quickly jumped up from the sofa and rushed over to her suitcase on the bed with their clothes. When they returned to the resort, he had suggested they toss a couple of items of clothing into one bag for the sake of convenience. She had agreed, but now as she opened the luggage it seemed too personal finding his change of clothes mixed in with hers. She pulled out what she needed and raced off to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

  After a quick shower, she began to get dressed. She blushed at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door that plainly showed the passion marks on her body. She closed her eyes momentarily, remembering the exact moment each one was made. She knew the memories would remain etched in her memory, and there was no need to pretend otherwise. Although she was good at bluffing, if the truth be told, her sexual experience was limited. She’d preferred it that way. But last night Angelo had taken her beyond anything she had thought possible.

  And she knew tonight he planned on a repeat performance. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she wanted a repeat performance, too. She shook her head smiling. Her good friend Sam had helped send her here because she thought Peyton needed to get laid. But little did Sam know her own brother was doing the honors.

  A firm rap on the bathroom door interrupted Peyton’s musings. “Yes?”

  “The chef and his staff were here and are gone now. I don’t want your food to get cold,” he said.

  “I’ll be right out.”

  She quickly finished dressing and added a light application of makeup. She took a second to study her reflection in the mirror. Tonight, on her thirtieth birthday, she looked just as she did on her twenty-ninth. She couldn’t help but giggle at the thought, even though she felt different now. The difference wasn’t obvious to the naked eye. But today was the first time she’d been with a man with whom she’d felt relaxed and completely herself—there was no pretense on her part. She actually enjoyed herself and had fun. And the man who made her feel that way was Angelo.

  “Okay, girl, come back down to earth,” she chided herself. “Before you get any crazy ideas, remember Matthew.” She drew in a deep breath, knowing there was no way she would ever forget that painful lesson. Still there was no reason she couldn’t enjoy the moment. And since Angelo had gotten it into his head that he had every right to claim her, she wanted to see just how far he would take it. She was smart enough to know that even though he’d said he claimed her, it would only be while they were in the Bahamas. They had a little more than a week left on the island, and she was convinced that by the time they left he would be back to his old self again.

  In the meantime, she would enjoy the “I Claim You” game they were playing. If claiming her meant more days like today, she didn’t have a problem with that.

  Chapter 14

  Angelo turned around the moment he heard the bathroom door open. His fingers tightened on the wineglass he was holding. He was about to take a sip, but paused and lowered the glass from his lips. He had given himself a pep talk earlier, reminding himself not to pounce on Peyton again anytime soon…at least not until after dinner. But now he wasn’t so sure. She had to be the most beautiful, desirable woman he’d ever seen.

  “I thought you stopped doing that, Angelo.”

  He lifted the glass back to his lips to take a sip. He needed something to take his mind off of his arousal. “Stopped doing what?”

  “Staring.”

  He shrugged. Okay, so he had been staring. Some things just couldn’t be helped. Like a man’s reaction to a beautiful woman. “It bothers you when I stare?”

  She smiled. “Honestly, I think it would probably bother just about anybody, especially if the person doing the staring had your eyes.”

  “My eyes?”

  “Yes, you have the most penetrating stare of anyone I know.”

  Funny, he’d been thinking about penetration of another kind. He decided to put that thought to the back of his mind. “Ready for dinner?”

  “Yes, I’m starving.” She crossed the room. “What about you?”

  “I’m hungry as well.” Good thing she didn’t ask me what for.

  “Then by all means, let’s eat,” she said.

  They climbed the stairs, and when they reached the top, she glanced around the room. The lantern room was open and spacious and surrounded by glass windows. A huge decorative lantern was in the center of the room. The table was set for two and had vanilla-scented tapers in the candleholders. Angelo had placed the flowers he had sent yesterday in the middle of the table.

  “The flowers are still beautiful,” she said, taking the chair he pulled out for her.

  He had to agree. The flowers were still beautiful. But nothing, he thought, was as beautiful as she was at that very moment. The candlelight danced off the profile of her face, making her appear even more beautiful.

  “You’re staring again, Angelo.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No problem. What do we have to eat?”

  He chuckled, appreciating her appetite. Instead of answering the question he uncovered each dish. “So what do you think?” he asked.

  A smile touched the corners of her mouth. “I think if claiming me means I get to eat like this, then you can claim me anytime you want.”

  If only it were that easy, he thought. She said that now, but he knew when the time came she wouldn’t be singing the same tune.

  “So how are you handling your newfound fame?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Not very well.”

  “Which is why you came here.”

  He wondered how she would react if she knew she was the real reason he was here. “I guess you could say that.”

  She nodded. “I thought I would probably never say this, but I’m glad it worked out this way.”

  He lifted a brow. “What way?”

  “That we ended up here together, at the same time. That’s some coincidence.”

  Not really, he thought. Just planning, he mused, taking another sip of wine.

  “I’m surprised we didn’t run into Lela when we went back to the resort earlier,” Peyton said.

  He shrugged. Of course he wasn’t going to mention that yesterday, when he’d been frantically trying to find out where Peyton had escaped to, Lela had made a nuisance of herself one too many times. She’d tried cornering him in an elevator and started taking off her clothes. She had gone too far. And because her actions had violated the resort’s harassment policies, she had been forced to leave. The only thing he had to say was good riddance.

  “Everything is delicious.”

  He smiled and glanced over at her just as she bit into a dinner roll. There was something about the way she took it into her mouth that had his stomach clenching. And when she used her tongue to lick some butter from her bottom lip, he shifted in his seat to tamp down his arousal.

  He needed to touch her, so he reached out and captured her hand in his. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Like I said, I wanted this day to be special for you.”

  Their gazes held, and at that moment he realized not only was he firmly holding her hand, but his thumb was stroking it. Her skin felt soft to the touch. He released her hand, knowing that if he didn’t, they wouldn’t make it through dinner. The room was charged with electricity,
and he felt it. He was actually inhaling it and decided then to make the first move.

  “So tell me, what was the most memorable part of your birthday?”

  He saw the blush that quickly tinted her features and figured out what she was probably thinking about—the orgasm at midnight.

  “Doing something I’d never done before.”

  “And what was that?” he asked, playing along.

  He watched her draw in a deep breath before she leaned forward. As if they were in a room filled with people and she didn’t want anyone else to overhear what she was about to say, she whispered, “Falling asleep with a man still firmly embedded inside of me.”

  * * *

  Peyton saw Angelo’s reaction to her words in the darkening of his eyes, the flaring of his nostrils and the heated curve of his lips. He was replaying the image of what she’d said in his mind, thinking about it and remembering. And what she’d told him was true. That had never happened to her before because she wouldn’t have let it happen. But with him, she hadn’t wanted to separate from his body.

  “And why is that most memorable, Peyton?”

  She looked at him. His voice was deep by nature, but it sounded even lower, throatier and sexier. It seemed he wanted her to spell it out in detail. She could do that, but would Angelo be able to handle it. Would she? She’d never thought talking about sex was a turn-on. But if that’s what he wanted, then she didn’t have a problem with it. No telling where it would lead…

  She leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs and felt the temperature between them rise a few degrees. “Knowing that you’d already come, but you were still hard was a first. Talk about staying power. I felt every inch of you deep inside of me. You kept me aroused and fulfilled in a way I’ve never been before.”

  She paused. “It was a tight fit—tight yet satisfying. It felt like the perfect fit. It was as if that’s where it belonged.”

  She chuckled. “At least my body thought so at the time. Even though I was drained, I didn’t want you to pull out. There’s just something about that connection—skin to skin, just lying there with you. I know it sounds crazy, but at that moment it had felt so right.”

  There, she’d said it. And now that she thought about it, she’d probably said too much. Some things she should keep to herself. But she was finding that talking to Angelo came easily, even when it shouldn’t have—at least not for her. She wasn’t one to prattle on, and she’d definitely never had this kind of conversation with a man. Yet she’d spent the past few minutes telling a man how good it felt to have him snug inside of her, even though they weren’t making love. She wondered if he thought she had gone off the deep end or something.

  He wasn’t saying anything, just sitting there staring at her with those penetrating eyes of his. But she could hear his breathing becoming labored. She couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking.

  Then suddenly, everything that surrounded them ceased to exist when he slowly stood and moved to where she sat. Without saying a single word, he reached out his hand to her, and she took it. He was going to make love to her again. His intent was reflected in the depths of his eyes, in his stance and definitely in the huge erection pressed against his zipper.

  She was not immune to his silent seduction. In fact, the fire stirring within her—most notably at the juncture of her legs—made her ease out of her chair and stand so close that her body was pressed smack against his.

  “Now let me tell you how I feel being inside of you,” he said huskily, as he leaned close and whispered into her ear. Her heart rate increased at the thought, and then she practically held her breath, anxious to hear him describe their lovemaking.

  “You and I are a perfect fit,” he said. “And the moment I was skin-to-skin inside of you, I felt your heat. You were so damn hot, all I wanted to do was drown in your inferno. You clutched me, your inner muscles held me tight. I was a willing hostage, and I never wanted to escape. You were wet, and I wanted to make you wetter. And when you exploded, shuddered in my arms, I’ve never felt such intense pleasure all the way to my bones. All I wanted was to hear you cry out and call my name.”

  And she had, several times during the night. And each time she’d done so, he had clutched her body closer, thrust into her deeper. There was no doubt in her mind that he had made love to her the same way he handled all of his business—thoroughly and completely.

  She drew in a deep breath. His words had stirred up a thick cream that was flowing through her. His words were more erotic than anything she’d heard before, and the feeling of lust and need was building deep inside of her. A part of her wondered if he actually meant everything he’d said, or was he just saying what he thought would be a fitting response to her sensual confession.

  He didn’t give her much time to dwell on the sincerity of his words. The next thing she knew he had backed her up against the wall.

  * * *

  Angelo wasn’t sure which pulse point was pounding more—the one in his neck, wrist or his manhood. Probably the one in his groin, which would be the reason for the aching throb lodged there.

  First things first, he thought, going straight for her lips, and uttering a guttural moan. The feel of her body pressed between him and the wall sent bolts of carnal pleasure shooting through him. And when he slid his tongue inside her mouth, her taste sent everything inside of him rocking. Never had he experienced such eroticism from kissing a woman. But Peyton wasn’t just any woman. She was his.

  When she began kissing him back, drawing his tongue into her own mouth and doing wild and crazy things with it, he nearly buckled at the knees. With the strength he had, he slid her up steadily against the wall while lifting her dress and spreading her legs as she wrapped them around him.

  He didn’t remember unzipping his pants or releasing himself. But he was well aware of the exact moment he eased between her wet womanly folds, entered her and began thrusting deep and hard at a mind-boggling pace. An urgent, primal groan rumbled deep in his chest with each thrust.

  And then she screamed, loud enough to burst his eardrums. The sound snapped his control, and he began shuddering from the force of the climax that ripped through them both. Never had he experienced a climax so powerful, so earth-shatteringly explosive.

  She wrapped her legs around him, locking their bodies tighter while he continued to thrust and rock into her—taking all she had and giving her all he could give. More than he’d ever given any woman.

  He broke off the kiss and closed his eyes as sensations continued to ram through him as her body clenched him, demanding even more. And he gave it. For once, he didn’t hold anything back. And then, unable to help himself, he said her name, and when she tilted her face upward, he leaned forward and kissed her again, taking her mouth in desperation that bordered on starvation.

  Passion mingled with a fierce need suffused his entire body. And when she broke off the kiss to catch her breath, he began nibbling around the corners of her mouth. It was as if no matter what, he couldn’t get enough of her. Deep inside he knew the truth of the matter was that he never would.

  Chapter 15

  Peyton lay in bed as desire raced through her body the moment Angelo walked into the room. He had awakened early to go jogging on the beach, shirtless in a pair of running shorts. It should be outlawed for any man to have a body that looked like his. Just watching him had her breasts tingling and heat simmering through her.

  He had a rock-solid chest that was brushed with dark hair that led a trail down toward the waistband of his shorts. Then there were his shoulders, which she had clung to as her fingernails dug into them. And the firm thighs that would hold her steady, almost immobile, with each and every hard thrust. Last, but not least, were his legs. Most men didn’t know that women admired their legs just the way they liked women’s legs. His were long, muscular and hairy, just the way she lik
ed them. She was turned on just remembering his legs entwined with hers after they’d made love and he’d held her in his arms. He also used his muscular legs to spread hers, right before…

  “Ready for breakfast?”

  Her eyes gazed back up at his face. He was looking at her in a way that made her wonder if he could read her mind. If so, then he knew breakfast was the last thing on her mind. “Yes, but I have to get dressed. It won’t take long to throw something on.”

  “No rush. You can flash me anytime you like.”

  He was leaning against the door, and the look he gave her sent more heat flooding through her body. Peyton sat up in bed and looked at his hands that were resting at his sides. She remembered everything his hands were capable of doing, and how they could make her feel. How those hands touched her all over, especially between her legs, and made her scream.

  The sound of Angelo clearing his throat made her glance back up at his face. “Did you say something?” she asked, swallowing deeply. Peyton was almost certain that he had said something, but her mind was on other things—like tasting and licking him all over, the same way he’d done to her last night.

  “Yes, I asked if you were hungry.”

  Um, it depended on just what he had in mind for her to put in her mouth. “Why do you ask?”

  “I thought we would spend some more time—”

  “We can’t do that,” she interrupted. She had a good idea what he had in mind. “We agreed that we were returning to the resort today.”

  He shrugged. “Only because you insisted.”

  Yes, she had. Even though he had wanted to foot the bill for the entire stay at the lighthouse, she had refused to let him. So they had compromised by splitting the bill for the three days they’d stayed. They planned to return to the resort, even though she knew Angelo would have preferred staying at the lighthouse. He liked the privacy and seclusion the lighthouse provided. She did, too, but all good things came to an end. Just like the affair she was having with Angelo. And when it did, she tried to reassure herself that she would be able to handle it, since she had no expectations of anything more.