Shoving his briefs down, he grabbed his cock, stroking vigorously as he eyed her open, wet slit.
“Knees up,” he grunted. Moving into position, he rubbed around her pussy using the plump head of his dick, paying special attention to her beautiful clit meeting his cock.
In mid tease, he reared back, lined up his throbbing length and rammed home with a fierce grunt. Her hands immediately moved under her knees and held tight.
Pulling out, he shifted his weight around and angled his hips for maximum penetration then thrust forward again. When he felt his balls hit her ass he grunted his pleasure.
“Is this what you need?” he growled.
Flexing his hips he stroked a steady rhythm. His hand caressed the soft skin of her open thighs. Leaning over her he kicked her taut nipples and drew each one into his mouth for a fierce suckling that made her writhe and send fresh heat cascading along the length of his cock.
She stared up at him with eyes too glazed with lust to see. Her mouth hung open as short pants and rumbling sighs told him of her desire. When her pussy tightened and choked the living daylights out of his cock, he held perfectly still to absorb each and every pulse and throb as she melted down and came with a flood that really did drench her, him, the desk, and probably the floor too.
It was fucking magnificent to watch and enthralling to absorb. His cock was more than ready for the big finale.
Kissing her with rapacious need he stuck his tongue in her mouth and teased until she answered.
“Your call sweet sexy lady,” he hoarsely rasped.
She smiled, wrapped her arms and legs around him and wiggled her ass until he slid free of her body.
“Oh baby. After that masterful performance? I’d feel robbed if you didn’t finish in my throat.”
He snickered. “Pussy happy?”
“Pussy very happy,” she answered with a grinning leer. “Now be a gentleman and help me down off this lovely desk. I want you standing. Do that pirate thing like you did at Halloween,” she said with a wink.
Hey. No problem. He gave her a hand and eased her off the desk. Stood patiently while she gathered her hair into a bunch and sank into a deep, graceful curtsey that ended with her looking up at him from her knees. His cock, still showing the glistening evidence of her orgasms, quite literally wagged in her face.
“Hands or no?” she asked with an innocent smirk.
Wench. “Knees wide. I want your come to leak onto the carpet. And hands most definitely. Grind and suck like a good girl.”
Standing legs apart, and keeping a possessive hand in her hair as she bobbed up and down on his cock, he gave her his best pirate while she gave him a blowjob worthy of the most celebrated pirate wench.
The things she did with her hands and fingers while she tortured the end of his cock with her mouth robbed his brain of rational thought. Heather had a magic touch when it came to his balls.
When her hands moved onto his thighs and she offered her mouth, shit got real. Holding her head with both hands, he reigned in the impulse to lose control and gently fucked her sexy mouth.
“Oh my god Heather,” he groaned when the head of his cock got squeezed by the constriction of her throat.
He nearly lost it when she gagged and backed off. A thick ribbon of saliva clung to her lips and the head of his cock. Through the thickening haze of greedy lust overtaking his senses, he heard her deep moan and marveled when she opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue and wagged it. She wanted more.
That was the moment he lost it. Gripping his cock in one hand while the other fisted into her hair, he laid the plump head on her tongue and flexed his hips, watching as his hard length caressed her open mouth.
“Fuck,” he grunted. Propelling her head forward at the same time that he surged into her mouth, Brody closed his eyes and let the pleasure take him away.
She held firm to his big thighs and let him use her mouth for his pleasure, surrendering to the uncontrollable need she inspired. And she swallowed. Every damn drop. Like a motherfucking champ.
He couldn’t wait to make her his wife. They’d been playing it safe long enough.
“ARE YOU SURE, sweetie? He looks so happy in his red suit. If we get in line now, we’ll only have to wait a few minutes.”
Heather held her breath and if she could have crossed her fingers, she would have. Overall, things had been going so well with Bella that she’d been caught off guard when the little girl adamantly refused to have anything at all to do with Santa.
After much back and forth, she realized that from Bella Mia’s perspective, all the Christmas fuss was cool. Kind of. What she lacked in enthusiasm she gained through balls out derision for the jolly old elf. In Bella’s book? Santa was an asshat.
And really. What could she say? Was there a defense for so bold an opinion? Bella was entitled to her feelings. The kid had been through a rough time. Pooh-poohing her point of view was ignorant. And unhelpful.
No. Heather’s instincts told her the best way through this was more nuanced than riding roughshod over the poor kid’s very valid reactions. Bella needed to express what she was feeling. Only then could they hope to replace the anguish from the past with something reliable the child could count on.
The little girl didn’t shrink back or try to pull away. That wasn’t Bella’s style. Even in the face of fear she would be firm. Hold her ground. And she did. Her little bad ass rebel, almost daughter, led with her chin and crossed her arms. Glaring at the lively and colorful seasonal display depicting the elf’s North Pole workshop with Santa sitting on a Christmas throne while a line of children queued up for a chance on his lap and the requisite photo opportunity, Bella all but sighed melodramatically.
“I don’t like the way he looks.”
Heather bit her tongue to stop from laughing. “I don’t know, sweetie. He looks pretty fat and jolly to me.”
Scuffing her booted foot on the floor, the kid dropped her arms and shrugged. “He’s not the real one. Finn says pretending to be Santa is his job.”
Counting back from a hundred, she fought a mighty internal battle and won against the instinct to roll her eyes and growl. Fucking Finn. She was going to murder his stupid ass.
“And does Finn know where the real Santa is?”
When Bella looked at her as if she had a screw loose, it struck her as hilarious because her daddy had the same expression sometimes.
“I think he’s a little busy right now,” the six year old pithily replied. “So leaving the North Pole is problee’ hard.”
Oh. Hmm. This was a new development. Busy and out-of-town seemed like progress. It sure was better than hands down disavowing any possibility of being for real.
Nodding, she gave the child a confirming wink. “You’re a very wise little girl, Bella. And I bet you’re right.” Pointedly glancing at the fake Santa she gave the disillusioned child another straw to grasp. “You know, I’ve heard that the Santas who come out to hear our Christmas wishes are special elves hired by the North Pole.”
When Bella didn’t respond right away but stood there and stared a hole through the costumed actor, she was pretty sure a direct hit had been scored. Only in this case, the direct hit landed on one savvy, forward thinking kid.
“Do you think he has an iPad? To give the lists to Santa,” she added as explanation. “I bet Major Alex could give him one if he doesn’t.”
So just like that Santa was in the running for magical elf status with a possible assist from Alex. Sure. Why not?
But she wasn’t done trying for more. “Don’t you think Daddy would like a picture of you with Santa? Even if he is just a magic helper,” she rushed to squeeze in at the end.
Watching the astute kid consider Heather’s question was fascinating. And her comeback was priceless; one hundred percent Bella.
“I know what he’d like better!”
Heather felt this particular battle slipping from her grasp. Oh well. Small victories were what counted as long as they moved e
veryone forward.
“What?” she asked enthusiastically.
“Can we take a picture with the reindeer? And put it in a frame? Daddy could hang it in his office at Justice.”
So they took a few pictures with the fake reindeer display. Explaining to the attendants that they wouldn’t be taking a Santa picture, she dropped fifty bucks on a tip and the usual picture charge. But it was worth it. The happy expression on Bella’s face as she posed with the life size prop was pure Christmas joy.
Brody would be thrilled.
“Now that’s one hell of a solution,” her new friend and neighbor chuckled. Holding the five by seven print of Bella posing with Comet the Reindeer, April Stewart nodded approvingly. “I like the way she thinks. Outside the box. Good trait for a smart girl to have. It’ll serve her well as she grows.”
“Right?” Heather drily replied. “But at least she backed down from Santa being a douchebag. Convincing her Justice mailed a change of address to the North Pole when we moved here saved the day.”
“Hand me the spatula,” April said with a hand gesture.
They were up to their damn chins in homemade chocolate chip cookies. Enough to feed an entire school judging by the mess they made. April had one of those magazine perfect kitchens with all the extra bells and fancy whistles. With enough counter space for a family of ten, they labored through eight batches, bagging and tagging as each pan cooled.
“Next time I raise my hand to volunteer, feel free to smack me.”
Heather laughed. “Aw, come on. It wasn’t so bad. That first batch was a little rough but we had a system going by the end.”
“Fuck off,” April snickered.
While Heather swiped a dishtowel on the last of the washed pans and April wiped down the counters, they chatted about random stuff. It felt so house-wifey and suburban mom-ish. A year ago at this time she was sliding along on ice covered sidewalks, bitching about a dog she insisted was a pain in the ass while being so all over the damn place emotionally that she should have been labeled an amusement ride.
Wow. Talk about life changes. There was nothing about her existence in Arizona that even marginally resembled those dead, empty years in Maryland. Not all that different from what Bella was experiencing.
She glanced at April who was blithely rambling on about Dancing With the Stars and how she was giving her husband, Mark, ballroom dance lessons for Christmas and went back to the problem at hand.
The Santa dilemma was a bitch. True. But there was a real possibility they were overthinking it. Reasoning with the clever, astute girl was a complete waste of time. This was visceral for her. Smiling faces and bullshit legends about candy canes and elf magic were alcohol poured on a festering wound for a damaged child.
Bella didn’t trust Santa. And for good reason. Imagining she was suddenly going to fall in line and find the fat old elf fun and exciting was the height of stupidity.
A kernel of thought planted in Heather’s mind. She needed to think about this because holy shit, she might just have stumbled on what to do.
But right now she had a babbling neighbor and a shopping cart sized mound of bagged cookies to deal with. First things first, which meant putting on a good show at the school’s holiday fair.
No joke, she thought with a quiet chuckle. This parenting shit is a challenge and a half!
Pressing start on the stopwatch in one hand, Brody balanced a clipboard on the wood railing with his other. Across the yard from where he and Cam stood, two handlers and their animals were running a canine obstacle course. The shepherds tearing through the cleverly orchestrated barriers and mobility challenges were kicking ass and taking names.
“Fucking A that was impressive,” Cameron mumbled after the dog’s times were logged and the exercise over.
He had to agree. Since permanently relocating and committing full time to running the Justice Canine Program, the things he’d put into motion a year ago that with the hard work of his team paid off beyond his wildest dreams had moved his animals up a dozen notches. Everyone wanted a Justice Canine. His dogs were the shit.
Brody motioned for him to head back to the office and pulled alongside as they walked the path.
“I’ve been thinking about your request for a dog, Cam.”
“Jesus, Brody. Is the ominous tone necessary?”
“Shut up and let me finish.”
Cam’s one arched brow normally had an effect on him rather like when the Major walked in the room. Instant attention. He respected Cameron’s authority but they were talking about his dogs. Reaching past Cam’s shoulder, he curved his fingers into the door handle and pulled. With a sweeping motion of the clipboard in his hand, he waved the founding Justice member ahead of him with an infinitesimal head nod.
Deference acknowledged, Cam took the lead and headed straight for the coffee station in the corner of the room. Pouring the steaming brew into a Justice mug, he glanced over his shoulder and told Brody to continue.
“Look,” he began in a serious tone. “I know a puppy seems like shitballs of fun. And it can be. But Cam. Think. A puppy, a toddler, a new baby and a wife trying to juggle all of it? Dude. Recipe for a nightmare.”
“The wife has her heart set on a dog, Jensen. And you know how that goes, right? Happy wife—happy life. Whatever Lacey wants, Lacey gets. Capeesh?”
He let out an amused chortle. “Damn straight I capeesh. Have my own woman issues. My old lady wants me to lead a book club meeting. Fuck my life.”
Cam walked past and slapped him on the back before taking a seat next to the desk. “Using you as a ringer.”
“A what?”
The sly, amused, but very dry expression on Cam’s face broke into a grin. “A ringer you dumb fuck. You know. The guy who plays for the varsity team slumming with the tryout squad.”
What the fuck was he getting at? Not bothering to hide his confusion, Brody sat behind the desk and grunted, “Huh?”
“Let me break it down for you.” Cam took a hefty gulp of coffee and set the mug down on the corner of the desk. “Who is the target audience for a book club?”
“People?” he answered with a snicker.
Cam shook his head and looked incredulous. “This’ll take all day without clues. Man, you would suck dick on a game show.”
Brody gestured and rolled his shoulders. Hey. The guy was right. His brain did not follow the game show rhythm. At all.
“To be more precise. The target audience is male or female?”
Oh shit. That flash of light was the bulb of recognition going on over his head.
“Female,” he grumbled, knowing where this was going.
With a chuckle edged by a sneer, Cam sat back, crossed his legs with an ankle on his knee and pointed at him. “Bingo. Females.”
“I feel dirty,” Brody laughed. “Used. An object,” he sobbed melodramatically.
“In chick parlance,” Cam pointed out with typical Justice Brothers gravitas, “It goes like this. Books plus hot guy plus women equals standing room only. Welcome to the DILF club my friend. Best goddamn advertising and promotion out there.”
“Dilf?”
“Dads I’d Like to Fuck. A Tumblr favorite. You should check it out. Women,” he playfully scoffed. “Filthy minds, the whole lot of them.”
“Thank god, huh?”
They chuckled and nodded in unison.
“Um, Cam. Do you mind if I ask a question?”
Reaching for the mug at his side, Cam eyed him as he sipped. The guy had x-ray vision that never failed to unnerve him. It was easy to understand why the Major relied on him or how perfectly he blended with Drae.
Setting the mug down Cam fixed Brody with a look he’d never seen before. His antennae reacted to this new development.
“Is this a Jason question or a Cam question?”
Jesus H Christ. How the hell did he do it? Seriously. Not kidding. Telepathy? Time travel? A crystal ball?
“Um, well actually Cam I think this is a Jason question
.”
The other man sighed heavily and appeared for the briefest second to struggle. Then he nodded and visibly relaxed. Brody was staggered by how honored he felt. Not only was he seeing the other side to Cameron Justice, he was being ushered into the Justice inner sanctum where men bared their souls and shadows of the past kept locked away.
“Is this about Bella?”
Okay, come on. Was there a flashing neon sign on his forehead? He looked Cam straight in the eye and nodded. It took a few seconds of mental floundering before he found the right words.
“When you were a kid,” he muttered awkwardly before stopping. Cam’s shoulders were rigid and he felt like a dick for making the man anxious. “What I mean to say, or ask, is simply this. Christmas?”
The question sucked all the air out of the room and momentarily deflated Cam. It bothered him greatly that even as a grown man—a successful and happy family man—the other guy still felt pain from long ago. It shouldn’t be that way and was what he worried about constantly with Bella. That she’d carry the pain and the emotional scars with her like unwanted baggage.
Sitting forward, Cam rested his arms on his thighs and clasped his hands. The pose was familiar. Part thinker and part emotional mess, it was standard guy posture.
As he began to speak, Brody heard the harsh tone Cam used to cover up the childhood pain and winced.
“When all you have that’s one hundred percent yours is thoughts, it would make sense that as a kid I did way too much thinking.”
He looked up and caught Brody’s agreeing nod. This was something he understood. After his parents died when he was a kid, thinking was a twenty-four seven proposition.
“For me,” Cam bit out, “every fucking second of every fucking day between the run up to Halloween and Christmas was one huge kick in the head. One shot after another. Pow, pow, pow,” he exclaimed while mimicking punches to his face.
Dear Bella: A Family Justice Novella Page 2