Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2)

by Suzanne Halliday

  And she knew things that she probably shouldn’t about his time in D.C.

  Parker Sullivan was no altar boy. Or even a Boy Scout. He was big and powerful, and she wasn’t referring to his physical presence. The guy could be one huge scary monster if he needed to.

  He didn’t want to play word games? Thought cutting to the chase was a viable strategy? Okay, then. Two could play at that.

  She reached up with both hands, gathering her long hair at the back of her neck twisting it till it lay down her back in a loosed twirled tail. It was something of a nervous reflex. When she was finished, Angie dropped her hands into her lap and quietly uttered, “I know about The Cavern, Parker.”

  Glancing his way, she saw him clench his jaw and knew she’d taken him by surprise with her unexpected reveal.

  Jesus. Guys were so dumb sometimes. I mean, what the actual hell? Just because she was most definitely naïve all those years ago didn’t mean she’d been brain-dead.

  Her first awareness of The Cavern had happened almost a year before she and Parker slept together. It was because of the fact that they hung out so much—literally most of their free time, when they weren’t working or going to school, was spent together—that she knew anything at all.

  They’d been on a hike in a suburban Maryland park just outside the District that had a wonderful trail around a lake marked with beautiful weeping willow trees. From her first weekend after she’d started at Georgetown, they’d engaged in a friendly competition to see who could make it around the lake in the fastest time. He always won, but she gave him one helluva run for his money, the fucker.

  After one particular second best run, they’d gone to his apartment to change and clean up. While Parker had been in the shower, she’d wandered absently, gathering stuff into piles and making stacks of all the magazines laying around. She’d even replaced two of his guitars into their cases marveling that he didn’t take better care of his stuff.

  And that was when she saw it. A print out of an email for key holders about some event at The Cavern and Parker’s name was clearly evident. She hadn’t told him what she knew—until just now. Hadn’t admitted that she’d done more research into the goings on at the private club than she put into her schoolwork that semester.

  For lack of a better way of putting it, The Cavern was an exclusive establishment catering to the BDSM community. And that so-called community was, due to its unique location, full of high-powered people. Public figures, politicians, diplomats, lobbyists . . . you name it. Parker rolled with the big kids.

  Had she made a mistake by telling him that she knew? He was awfully quiet and the way his hands were gripping that steering wheel, she was surprised it didn’t snap off.

  Cold, unease slithered along her nerve endings. Oh, shit. She should have thought that reveal through before acting on it. Clearly, by his reaction, she had trod on something private that he didn’t want to be exposed. I guess, she thought, it’s a little like finding her vibrator in the nightstand. Some things didn’t need to be discussed.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “None of my business.”

  How did she know he was bent out of shape? The knuckles on the hand gripping the wheel were now white and she could feel waves of something intense coming off him. Feeling horribly gauche for having embarrassed him, Angie considered jumping from the moving car, preferring to eat some road gravel to sitting beside him while he was furious at her

  “Fuck!” he bellowed. She jumped half a foot and smacked her elbow on the car door.

  “Angelina Marquez,” he growled fiercely.

  She swallowed hard. Uh-oh.

  “I swear to god if you tell me you ever,” he shouted, “stepped even one toe inside that place, I will blister your ass until you won’t be able to sit down for a month, young lady.”

  Hold on, hold on, hold on. What? He thought SHE was the one at the club? And he threatened to do WHAT to her ass?

  “Ewww! No! What? We’re not talking about me, counselor. And for the record? Me? In a sex dungeon? Uh . . . you’ve met me, right?”

  Still hanging on to his anger, he yelled, “Met you? Are you fucking kidding? Yeah, I’ve met you and who better than me would know you’d be the first one to visit a place like that and pretend to be all ballsy and nonchalant about it, too.”

  “Well, I didn’t so stand down. You’re scaring me.”

  He groaned and turned to look at her, his eyes practically invisible in the dark confines of the car.

  “Angie . . . goddammit. I don’t know how you knew about that place, but it won’t be pretty if I find out you ever go somewhere like that. If you’re curious, you talk to me. Don’t go off on your own. Some of those places have strict protocols and rules, and without realizing it, you could find yourself in a situation you couldn’t handle.”

  “Okay, counselor,” she snapped, cutting him off in mid-comment. “I get it. But don’t think this little finger wagging lecture distracted me from what we were originally talking about.”

  “Actually, Angel,” he told her in a tone that sounded all alpha-smirky. “The original question was whether you want a relationship with me. We only ventured into different territory when you brought it up.”

  She laughed. Lawyerly asshole. Getting the upper hand in a verbal conversation was going to be a challenge around him.

  A surefire way to piss him off had Angie picking up her phone—she tapped on the screen and began scrolling away in that way that said . . . yawn. She knew he’d react to the provocation and bit her lip to keep from loudly snickering.

  “You don’t get your answer till I get mine,” she answered dismissively.

  “You didn’t ask a question, baby girl. You made a statement.”

  “But the statement about The Cavern was after I asked if you if that’s how you saw yourself. In the dominant role. So the question came first.”

  So there, she sniffed.

  “I only said what I did about the club so you’d know I wasn’t completely ignorant. I do know what I’m saying, Parker.”

  She could feel him collecting his thoughts. Oh, my. Maybe she didn’t want to hear the answer. The explanation, whatever it was. They were in dangerous waters right now. There was personal and then there was . . . this.

  Eventually, he gripped the wheel less forcefully and the tension inside the car eased off. She stopped fiddling with her phone and leaned on the center console giving him one hundred percent of her attention.

  “Just say it. All of it. Out loud. I know what’s at stake. We were the best of friends. Closer than friends. Then we were lovers. And then? Not enemies. Not friends. Just a horrible limbo. And now we’re friends again. I hope,” she added sincerely. “And unless that bulge in your pants is an optical illusion, it would be all too easy to fall into the lovers thing again.”

  He grunted. God, he was cute.

  “I’m not interested in sleeping with you. What a waste of time that would be. Been there—done that, remember?”

  “What the fuck are you saying?” he muttered darkly.

  “Didn’t you hear me? I know what’s at stake.” She let the importance of her words hang there in the air. “But unless we’re talking about bigger picture stuff, I’m not up for fooling around no matter how much fun it would be. It’s ironic,” she murmured

  “What is?”

  “It took all this time to realize that I want more. I want everything, not some romantic, sanitized version of what a relationship should be. That is definitely a been there, done that,” she griped. “But you have to spell it out for me first, Parker. This is all or nothing. You’re too important to me and have been for all of my life, for what we’ve got to end up being friends with benefits.”

  She must have struck a nerve because he spelled it out for her then in pretty blunt and specific terms. If she had any questions after his speech, well . . . she must not have been paying attention; that was how precise he was.

  “Understand this.”

  Sh
e shivered at the tone he used. What the hell was that? And why was there a fluttering in her chest?

  “I’m not some character in a book. And you already know I don’t fuck around. You want to know what I want? Who I am? Fine.”

  Maybe she should just jump him right now. Before he said anything. Leap across the inconvenient console and have her wicked, wanton way with him. It didn’t matter what he said. She already knew. This was just the fine tuning.

  “First, this is the only time I’ve ever had this discussion. With anyone. Until this moment, frankly, it didn’t matter. But you’re right. There’s something huge at stake, and we have to be honest. Something superficial would never be enough with you. Any more than some cookie cutter, once on Sunday and a blowjob for my birthday arrangement.”

  “Birthdays should be special. When did a blowjob become special,” she joked, trying to ease the tension.

  “You’re just making my point for me, you know.”

  Oops.

  “Did I fuck around at places like The Cavern? Yeah. Do I see anything like that in my future? No. Not really. The group thing, the public thing—has no allure for me. Are my bedroom tastes a bit . . . demanding? You already know the answer to that. But that’s not what this is about. Is it? You want to know what your place would be. What you could expect.”

  “Before you continue, there’s something I should tell you. Please don’t go crazy on me.”

  Angie heard his breathing change. Ugh. She hoped he didn’t get mad.

  “Aldo took me to an event last year. One of those debauched celebrity parties. Sado-masochistic theme. Fucked-up take on the whole shades of grey thing. The decorations, and I’m not kidding even a little bit, were live people, men and women, tied up, strapped down, hung from crosses, and locked in stockades. It was horrible. I freaked. Aldo, well . . . he showed a little too much interest in the S&M beating scenarios.”

  Parker pulled off the road so fast, a gravel and dirt cloud enveloped the car as they came to a grinding halt that made her snap back and forth in her seat belt.

  “If that son-of-a-bitch laid a hand on you, I am going to fucking kill the little prick.”

  She shouldn’t have smiled—but she did. He was all kinds of cute when he was jacked up.

  “It’s not fucking funny, Angie,” he grated out. “I won’t have it.”

  Awwww. How sweet. He had no problem threatening to spank her tushy, but suggest someone else might, and he was an instant caveman.

  Unable to resist the temptation to poke him a bit, she pouted and squinched her nose up.

  “He got a leather crop and wanted to experiment with it, but . . .”

  “What?”

  His roar was downright thrilling. She couldn’t believe she’d actually asked if he saw himself as a dominant. What a farce! Just look at him. He was the personification of a commanding alpha with a bad-boy streak. And my goodness, was he ever on fire right this second!

  “That’s it!” he growled. “What’s that fucker’s name? Ronald? Ronald MacDonald? That asshole will be shitting happy meals into next year after I shove a ton of ’em up his ass.”

  Okay, now THAT was funny. She was struggling not to burst out laughing.

  “A fucking riding crop? He’s a dead man if he touched you with it.”

  A sudden vision of Alex and Parker doing unspeakable things to Ronaldo spurred her to ease him down off the ledge before he went off half-cocked.

  “Actually, what he had in mind was the other way around.”

  She said it plainly. No inflection. How long would it take him to . . .

  He threw back his head and laughed deeply. Apparently, it hadn’t taken him any time at all.

  “Oh, my god! For real? This is awesome!” He laughed. “Did he get you one of those leather and latex Dominatrix outfits as well?”

  His laugh was infectious, and she had to admit, it was funny. That weekend it hadn’t been funny, though. Not when Aldo all but begged her to experiment with him. She couldn’t wrap her mind around any part of what he needed. The idea of paddling him, something he showed a particular interest in, just left her cold. There had to be a line somewhere. She was no sadist, any more than she was a masochist and if that was what he was looking for . . . well, they had a problem. One of many.

  The laughter had broken the tension. All of a sudden, he unsnapped her seatbelt, reached, and hauled Angie half over the damn console and dove onto her mouth. It wasn’t a kiss of seduction. Nor was it one of passion. It was a marking. A brand on her ass couldn’t have been plainer.

  Settling her back in her seat after the kiss ended, he leaned over her, one hand wrapped around her neck so she had no choice but to look straight at him.

  “I want to be excited and challenged—outside the bedroom. I need a partner who is my equal. Not someone I control. Dominate,” he added for good measure. She was started to see where he was going.

  “I won’t pretend that I’d be anything less than what you already know I am in a relationship. Arrogant? Of course. But a partner who yields to her master,” she saw the humor in his expression when he said it which was all that saved him from a punch in the gut, “gains more than she gives away.”

  “How do you figure?” She really wanted to hear his answer.

  “Because, Angel baby, we’ll both know that you’ll choose to yield. Such an honor can only be met with loyalty, protection, and affection. Your happiness would be foremost in my mind and present in every action.”

  Hmmph. Affection? She had to call him on it.

  “Affection?” Her tone landed somewhere between Are you fucking kidding and Please feel free to blow me anytime.

  He caressed her cheek. “The word was carefully chosen because though you smirk, I don’t think you’re ready for the other discussion. The one with the L word.”

  Well, he was right about that. A couple of weeks ago, they hadn’t spoken in years and just hearing his name sent her into an emotional freefall. Four months ago, she’d been engaged to another man although she’d admittedly used the term man as a reference. Aldo was a toddler in diapers compared to Parker’s panty-melting masculinity.

  Did she want this man with a desire that was completely messing with her head? Yes. But that was sex. And she’d already thrown down the gauntlet that screwing around wasn’t enough.

  Beyond that, though? Was she ready to take that risk? The leap of faith it took to put herself totally in someone else’s hands. Just the thought made her feel vulnerable and exposed so, no. She wasn’t really ready to call the L word out from the shadows. Oh, she knew it was there—hovering just out of sight, but for now, that particular emotion had to continue as an understudy a while longer. Wasn’t time for a starring role and it remained to be seen whether their admitted lust for each other was on life support or if it could flourish and grow into something deeper.

  THEY MADE THE LAST LONG drive to the Villa off the main road in loud silence. Parker glanced at the dashboard clock. Ten fifteen. Whew. For a second there he was worried they’d lingered beyond his self-imposed eleven P.M. curfew.

  The wide circular driveway that curved around the front of the big house was always like a fucking parking lot and tonight was no different. Even when no one was really around, it seemed like there were a half dozen odd vehicles parked here and there. Betty’s distinctive surrey-fringed buggy cart was there next to Meghan’s green John Deere. He wondered briefly if she ever tired of the Irish green jokes and references.

  He pulled alongside Alex’s ranch truck because it offered a sliver of cover and privacy.

  Their conversation had gotten so serious and heavy that he half expected Angie to bolt from his vehicle the minute he cut the engine. He was relieved to answer her questions and concerns freely and openly. It felt damn good and was exactly what he referred to by wanting a partner who challenged but was his equal. He felt completely at ease with her. But he was having a hard time reading her reactions.

  Reading people was in the firs
t paragraph of his job description and was something he was known for. But with Angie? Yeah, sometimes he could follow her thoughts like a paint-by-number project but only to a point. She was being guarded and while he hoped he was right about what was happening in the hidden part of her heart and mind, he didn’t really know for sure.

  To his astonishment, she did not leap from the SUV and run screaming from him. Was she making a statement by showing her fearlessness in the face of what they’d discussed? Heat rushed into his groin.

  He heard a muffled click followed by the sound of her belt retracting. He unclicked his and let it reset as he pulled the keys from the ignition so the cab would go dark. Parker had every intention of kissing his Desert Angel to within seconds of an erotic meltdown and didn’t need the glare from the onboard lights to throw a spotlight on what they were doing in the front seat of his SUV.

  Her soft hand reached down and rested on his thigh as she leaned on the console. “Thank you. I enjoyed tonight, Parker.”

  “As did I,” he assured her warmly.

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  Huh. No shit. Just the little matter of every fucking thing rested on what she decided was best for her.

  How could he press his case without forcing her hand or come off like a control freak?

  Tell her to get her ass onto your lap and be quick about it if she wants to be kissed properly, his snarky inner voice quipped.

  Okay.

  “While you think,” he husked, his fingers having reached out to play with one of her silky curls. “Do it from my lap.”

  “Um . . . your lap?” she asked, confused.

  “Yep,” he ground out. “That spot where your magnificently sexy ass belongs if you want me to kiss you goodnight.”

  “Oh.”

  Not sure how they did it, but a combination of seat adjustments and sheer ingenuity ended with Angie sprawled across the console, her ass resting firmly on his erection and her legs and feet, with those sexy-as-fuck shoes, stretched out on the passenger side.