Justice (Bad Boys of X-Ops Book 2) (20 page)

“Don’t move. You’re perfect.” Her hands swept down my back, up and down.

“I’m gonna dent you into the mattress like this.” I weighed a good one hundred pounds more than her.

“No.” She kissed my neck and fingered my hair. “You feel good.”

I shifted my hips slightly, knocking into her again. “You’ll hurt in the morning.”

“Yes. Maybe. You’re big and I love it.” Her stomach rippled up to mine, and I clasped her ass, ready for another go, maybe three or four more tonight.

Something grumbled loudly, and it wasn’t her telling me to get off her.

I smothered my laugh against her shoulder. “Hungry much?”

“Oh, you have on manners at all!”

Propping onto my elbows, I skewered her with a stare. “How am I supposed to ignore that noise? Damn, girl.”

“I missed supper because of you. Shut up.”

“You are gorgeous, and I can’t have you starved before I give you a proper workout.”

“You just told me I’d be sore because of you tomorrow!”

“That just means I’m not done yet.” I flipped onto my back then hopped out of bed. “C’mon, woman. You can teach me how to bake biscuits.”

Grabbing her hand, I headed out of the bedroom.

She skidded her feet to stop me. “You’re naked!”

I looked down my body, looked at hers with much more lingering appreciation, and shrugged. “Yup. I plan on being naked with you a lot.”

After squeezing her rump, I jumped the first few steps downstairs.

She dragged me up short. “I wouldn’t want you to singe anything important.”

She licked her lips as her gaze meandered to my cock.

“I’ll wear an apron.” I waggled my eyebrows.

“You wouldn’t.”

“’Course I would. You too. I think I’ll like the saucy maid look on you.” Giving her no more chance to protest, I slung her into my arms.

Naked and with her feet beating against my thigh, I made a grand tour of the house—living room, her office, a bathroom all downstairs with three bedrooms and two more bathrooms above that she mentioned—and the kitchen.

“This’ll do.” I made out with her in the middle of the twilight-drenched kitchen. “I like your house. A lot of rooms to christen.”

She laughed up at me when I set her feet on the floor. “I think I’m marrying a caveman.”

“You love it. Admit it.” I captured her back against me and held her hard. “You wouldn’t do with a man who was too much of a dumbass to appreciate every part of you.” I reached between us and grabbed her two hands. “You’re not shy, are you?”

“No, but I—”

“
Mm
. Being naked? With me? Worries you?”

“You make me think about sex.” She plucked her hands from mine.

“Believe it or not you make me think about it too. So much we better get you covered up before I do very dirty deeds to your sexy hot body and forget all about wrangling up something to eat.”

I opened cupboards and closets and the pantry while Tilly stood like Venus herself, all apricot hair and soft freckles, and gleaming, creamy skin.

“You do have aprons.” I pulled an armload from the pantry and measured them against her.

I eventually found the perfect one, only occasionally stopping to suck her pretty peaked nipples between my lips.

The apron I chose was a dangerously short, frilly pink number that had no bib and tied around her waist.

I did the honors with a large bow that sat at the top of her shapely ass with the ribbons bouncing against her butt.

“Oh yeah. I like that.” My body’s natural reaction made that very clear, and Tilly’s fingers whispered over my rigid cock.

I winked at her and stepped back, donning my own apron in dark blue that covered most of my hairy thighs. “You can have more of that later. After I get some food in you.”

She sputtered with laughter, shaking her head.

I swatted her on the ass with a serious look on my face. “C’mon girl. Git to it! You’re gonna have me dying of hunger over here.”

She propped a hand on her hip—ruining the stern pose when her luscious naked tits jiggled. “You said you were gonna cook.”

Running a finger above my upper lip, I squinted at her. “That’s right. I did.”

And so I set about making my specialty, breakfast for dinner. With the sun setting outside and birds chirping from trees inside her fenced yard. The kitchen was cozy—nothing sterling silver or super modern but totally Tilly. Little pots of fresh herbs lined the windowsills, mugs hung from a red-painted rack, newspapers and magazines piled up on one end of the counter.

“Meant what I said before, Tilly.” I flipped the bacon like a short-order cook. “I like your house. Plenty of room. Nice and homey.”

“Plenty of room . . . you mean for you too?”

I whisked up some eggs to make a fancy Spanish omelet while she measured out the ingredients for the now infamous biscuits. “Yeah. Of course.”

“You’ll live here?”

“I’m marrying you, I’m damn sure living with you.”

“But isn’t Savannah a little slow-paced for you?” She gawked at me then hid a smile behind a flour-dusted hand at the sight I must’ve made in her kitchen with my bare ass and my huge tat on show while I cooked at her stove.

“Slow, fast, none of that matters as long as I’m with you. And your job is here. Besides, Walker pretty much fucked up my place in New York. Got it compromised.”

“He did?”

“Yeah.” I remembered Walker’s story about the Feebs followed by his wintry dive into the Hudson with a rueful chuckle.

“Okay.” Tilly chewed on her lip.

“Good. Wasn’t planning on leaving no matter what you said”—I paused while she rolled her eyes—“so I’ll just need to get my hardware shipped down and set up some alarms in here and we’re all set.”

I mixed all the ingredients she’d sorted out for the biscuits, then we rolled out the dough together, and
that was
what I was talking about when I meant
making biscuits
.

She stood in front of me, I looped my arms around her, and we handled the pin together. My chest brushed her bare back. Her bare ass nestled against my groin, and a lot of interesting things happened beneath the cover of my apron, which rose at a distinct angle.

I tried to cool my lust after Tilly bent over to put the biscuits in the oven, giving me a glimpse of all the pink and glistening and swollen flesh between her thighs.

I cleared my throat heavily. “How come those biscuits look as flat as cow pats?”

That time I really was talking about the biscuits. The ones in the oven.

“What do you know about flat cow pats, city boy?” Her hand was on her hip again.

Her breasts swaying again.

I moseyed up to her and said with a deep southern twang, “Don’t take a country boy to know when somethin’s risen.”

Guiding her hand down between my thighs, I placed her palm on my cock tenting the front of my apron.

My head kicked back when she grasped me completely.

“I see.” Kissing the center of my chest, she withdrew her hand to whisper, “They’ll rise in the oven.”

“What about me?”

“You can wait, city boy.”

We managed to hold off from going at it in the kitchen, but it wasn’t easy.

Everything finally ready, Tilly set out the food and I made a beeline for my bag to produce a fine bottle of 2012 Ornellaia wine. I found two glasses, presented the bottle to Tilly, and uncorked it.

“A little wine with your breakfast-for-dinner, madam?”

“
Ah
do believe I could partake, kind sir.”

Our grins were perpetual, and my mouth was watering for more than simply food. Tilly began to sit down beside me, but I grabbed her around the waist.

“I got your seat right here.” I patted my lap.

“Justice! I can’t do that.”

She put up light resistance, but I easily overrode it, settling her naked ass in the center of my lap. “Plenty of room. Perfect fit.”

We ate and laughed and teased and drank, and I’d never had a better dinner or one so filled with sexual tension.

Tension that broke when I picked up one of the biscuits we’d both been avoiding. “It didn’t rise in the oven.”

Tilly cleared her throat, passed me the butter dish, and snuggled her rear more deeply against me. “But something else sure did—
again
—and it definitely hasn’t been in the oven.”

I smirked and
buttered my biscuit
.

I took one bite then . . . spat it right back out. “
Fuck
! These are horrible. Who made these things? We could take ’em out back and use them for target practice.”

Tilly laughed so hard tears streamed down her cheeks and she couldn’t catch her breath. “Oh, Justice! I had no idea you were like this.”

Blinking innocently, I examined the cow pat biscuit in my hand, smiling. “I’m not. It’s being with you. You fill me all the way up.”

“I think I’m going to love being your wife.”

I tossed the biscuit away, and it banged on the table.

“Let’s get a start on that lovin’ right now.” Reaching to Tilly’s front, I slid both palms up the insides of her thighs.

Her back arched, and I laid her legs on either side of mine, opening her to me.

“I’m warm.” Her head dipped back to my shoulder, her tongue licking my neck.

I eased two fingers inside her all the way.

“Very warm,” I murmured.

“Justice, what are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

“You like to say my name a lot, don’t you?” Nipping her on the bare shoulder, I thumbed up against her clit. “Getting frisky with my fiancée. Now, you’re warm, what else are you?”

“Wet.” She gasped.

I plunged three fingers inside. “Very wet.”

“I want . . .”

“I want you too.” When I hooked my apron out of the way, my cock reared up and butted immediately against her drenched folds. “You’re
wonderful
.”

Pulling out my fingers, I sucked them clean right next to her ear where she could hear every slurping sound.

Fisting the root of my cock in one hand and kneading one of her big tits with the other, I lifted my groin.

My cock parted her in a thick hot stroke. The feel of her grasping me from the inside made me tilt my face to the ceiling and groan.

“
Uhn.
That’s a tight fit.” A perfect fit.

A wet and sucking and mind-fucking fit.

Her hands splayed on my knees, she leaned forward. Her head dropped as she gasped for air.

“What’s it look like?” I swallowed down a loud curse, pushing the last pulsing inches inside.

A deep indrawn breath lifted her shoulders. “Oh God. So good, Jus.
Ahhh
. You’re magnificent. So male.” Her hand dropped and she palmed my needy balls. “I’m making you slick. You fill me so, so much.”

I dropped my pelvis, withdrawing from her in an aching, throbbing slow slide.

With my hands cupping both tits, I said in a harsh voice, “Ride me, Tilly.”

Ride me she did with a smooth canter and faster gyrations. I watched from behind, the sight of her pink flesh breached by my darker turgid cock making me wild. She watched from the front until she grabbed the edge of the table for support and bounced savagely. She came with a hushed yell, forming a tight bow while I drove faster inside her.

Needing more, I stood her up. I arranged her in front of me with her hands on the table, her ass up and out. Her hair flamed around her shoulders. Her breath shook. Her firm ass and juicy cunt were erotically framed by the ribbons of the apron.

Mine however was in the way.

I thrashed it off of me, grumbling, “Whose idea was that, anyway?”

Her laughter bobbed out of her but quickly became a moan when I lunged back into her with one powerful thrust.

Fuck.

Holding her by one shoulder and one hip, I slammed into her like a man possessed. The table shook. The plates danced. Glasses fell over. And our voices gelled—my rasping roar, her mewling moan—when I fucked her off the balls of her feet, held her captive in my arms, and emptied every last jet of come into her.

Drawing Tilly up and around, I kissed her until her knees wobbled and mine nearly buckled.

“Three weeks?” she asked, folding her hands around my neck.

“Make that two.”

In-law

TWO WEEKS WASN’T LONG to get settled at my new home base in Savannah. Some of my ops had lasted longer than fourteen days. And thankfully, on hearing the news, Blaize had given me a reprieve. But, man, those two weeks couldn’t fly by fast enough.

I shipped my shit down, and it all fit in the house just like I’d imagined. I didn’t have much. The computers and gadgets filled one spare bedroom. My extensive armory of weapons I locked in a closet in the same room. My clothes went into a new dresser that stood across our bedroom from Tilly’s, like matching bookends.

I also seriously updated the security system because no woman of mine was going to go unprotected in our house.

Our house.

My name was now on the deed, and I’d paid off the rest of the mortgage.

Tilly’s eyes had rounded like big green apples when I’d rolled the customized Harley Fat Boy night train off the moving van.

I’d placed a helmet on her head, arranged her hair below it, and chucked her under the chin. “You’re going to love it, babe.”

And she did. That first run on the sick, muscled up Harley to Georgia’s Golden Isles. Tilly holding on tight and laughing all the way.

I was gonna turn her life upside down just like she had mine in the best possible way. I was going to give her wild adventures no one would appreciate like she did because we just got each other in a way that made me think we were soul mates.

I didn’t even feel like a pussy when I thought that.

****

The wedding invites went out.

Wedding bands decided upon.

Her gown was ordered.

My suit was coming, tailor made by some dude called Frankie who Walker had ties to up in Charleston, South Carolina. I’d heard a few tales about the gangster/tailor I kept to myself.

What I couldn’t keep to myself was my worry about how Tilly would take my decision to stay with T-Zone. Despite finding a certain peace in myself and loving Tilly more than anyone could’ve convinced me was possible, it was my job, another part of my life.

I loaded the dishwasher one night while she sat behind me at the kitchen table, reviewing a lecture she’d give the following day. With everything cleaned up, I snagged a couple beers from the fridge, popped the caps, and passed one to her, clinking it with mine.

It was hot, and she usually came straight home from SCAD, kicked off her heels at the door, littered her clothes on the floor all the way upstairs before hitting the shower.

I usually trailed behind with a wicked grin, picking up discarded stilettoes in all kinds of colors and styles, skirts and trousers, blouses, and my favorite, the little pieces of lingerie. I’d meet her in the shower where it wasn’t just the clear glass that steamed.

The air was muggy, and I wore cut-off jeans and an unbuttoned shirt I’d put on after we’d made love and before we’d had dinner. This was my time off and I puttered, worked out, explored the intricacies of a slow, southern town, and sat in on more than one of Tilly’s classes, hanging on her every word, lovesick and happy about it.

I was always—
almost
—on my best behavior when I showed up on campus to squire her home.

Sometimes we didn’t make it all the way home.

Turned out Savannah had quite a few quiet corners and secret gardens we now knew on an intimate basis.

I really liked Savannah.

Turning a chair back to front, I picked up Tilly’s glasses and dangled them from my fingers. “We should talk about something, Tilly girl.”

“
Hmm
?” She pressed a finger against her tablet and shut it down. “What’s that?”

Leaning over the table, I captured her chin between my fingers and kissed her mouth, cool from the beer. She sucked my bottom lip between hers and half-rose to meet me more greedily.

Trying to calm the tight heat immediately sizzling in my groin, I backed slowly away. “About my job.”

“Your job?” She bit down on her bottom lip. “I heard tell you were writing a book.”

I groaned. “It was shit. Already told you that.”

“
Hmm
. Am I in this tell-all of yours?”

I gazed into her sea-green eyes, dazzled. “
Yesss
.” Then my brain caught up with my mouth. “No! Of course not. Nobody’s ever gonna know anything about what goes on between you and me. And I burned it anyway, like I said.”

She laughed brightly. “Okay. So you’re not a writer. What about your job?”

“I don’t want to quit it. I know it’s dangerous, but I’m really fucking good at what I do. And I’m careful—well I was—except with you maybe, because you pretty much shook me to the soles of my feet the first time I saw you,” I rambled, took a quick drink, rambled some more. “And with the guys, well, we’re a team. I know Bane and Storm are assholes because of whatever happened between them, but I haven’t had a team since the Marines. I mean you and me, we’re a team. We’re the best team—”

She laid her hand over mine. “Justice?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up because I have something to say to you.”

My eyes flipped wide and a smile started forming.

She stood from her chair and sauntered to me in the tiny little nightie she’d put on earlier just to torment me during dinner. It was heavenly yellow and it flipped around the tops of her thighs.

Unable to take my eyes off her, I pushed my chair out and repositioned myself.

I was a little distracted by the time she perched on my lap.

“Do you remember how we met?” she asked.

“How could I forget?” A laugh rolled out of my belly. “Good times.”

She nodded. “So you know I’ve seen you at your job. At your best. Sometimes at your worst.”

My head dropped down.

She lifted it back up. “I know how much the guys mean to you, and your job, and it doesn’t take anything away from me. It makes me even prouder I’m going to be your wife.”

“Really?” Hot emotions exploded inside me, lighting me up.

“Yes.” She kissed my mouth with a soft wet suck. “And I want you to keep doing it. I’m gonna miss you when you’re not here, but I know you’ll always come back to me.”

Her cheek lingered against mine, the soft to the hard. “You are an honorable man, Justice Chase.”

“And you are one woman in a million, Tilly Lawless almost mine.” I smoothed her hair down her back. “Are you worried about the danger at all?”

“I think I’m well adjusted to danger by now, don’t you? After all, I agreed to marry you.” She pulled back, her guileless green eyes not fooling me for a minute.

“Well, I guess so,
Lawless
.” Then, skimming a fingertip across her cheek, I asked, “What does your dad think?”

“You know you’ve earned his respect.”

Snort.

“He knows you’ll keep me safe.” She hesitated.

I squinted. “And what else did he say?”

A small smirk flickered on her mouth. “As long as trouble doesn’t follow you home.”

Fear clenched me. “What if it does?”

Tilly moved closer against me. “I think we’ve proved we’re pretty good together in a fight.”

I picked her up in my arms, joining my mouth with hers.

“
Oh!
Are we making it to the bed tonight? You gave me rug burn on one of my knees last night. But I guess I could have a matching pair, walking down the aisle.”

And I could not have loved her more.

****

Or so I thought, until the day before our wedding when everyone converged on the Jekyll Island Club in Georgia. The resort was like something out of a fairytale with the swanky grounds, the castle-like hotel, live oaks dripping with Spanish moss, and of course the exclusive beach.

Tilly’s dad and my parents arrived at the de-fucking-lux resort before any other guests, and I was shitting it just a little bit. I hadn’t done the honorable thing, asking Lawless for Tilly’s hand in marriage, because I didn’t want any more heated words to mar what I hoped one day he’d see as an unstoppable love.

We’d arranged for cocktails and an open spread on one of the intimate verandahs when they showed up. There were hugs and kisses, handshakes, first greetings, and second meetings. I worked at the tie around my throat, feeling like a hanged man after Lawless lasered me with moss green eyes and his most unpleased expression—the one I remembered very well.

Tilly, always on point, charmed my folks the moment they set eyes on her even though they’d never heard her name until exactly three weeks ago. She introduced them to the ambassador and before long the soon-to-be in-laws were enjoying the free drinks and the fucking canapés and laughing it up while I felt like an awkward outsider.

The only respite came when Tilly flashed a dazzling smile at me. She waltzed away from our parents to join me at the stone balustrade.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” I caught her in a kiss.

“So are you.” She winked. “And I like your parents.”

I wished I could say the same about her father. When she left to check on last minute wedding details I considered tagging along after her. Instead I decided to man-up and grow a pair of balls.

Approaching the group, I hung on the edges, nursing a whisky I barely sipped from. Tilly returned, engaging my mom and dad in effortless conversation. I however felt like my mouth was full of the white sand just outside.

I finally bit the bullet, turning toward Lawless.

“May I have a word, Ambassador?” I asked, still stifling with the tie around my neck.

“
Ah reckon
.” He laid on the southern drawl.

I led the way, just a few steps toward the table full of fresh food kept chilled on ice.

“I know we’ve had some differences, and you would’ve rather seen Tilly with anyone else but me. And I should’ve asked you for her hand, sir.”

“Well, now.” He spread his hands over his hips. “That took some gumbo and getting to, didn’t it?”

“You’re a little intimidating.”

He lifted his head to the sky and his loud laugh called the attention of Tilly and my mom and dad. “Intimidating? Damn, son. Not sure how you can say that to me after the feat you masterminded in Sana’a.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Boy, I thought for sure we were done for. But you came in like Captain America, and I can’t find fault with how you handled the situation. I admit, I got a hot temper, and I got a little hot under the collar when I figured you had intentions toward Tilly—”

Seeing me itching around my neck, he stopped and laughed again. “Looks like you’re hot under the collar too,
huh
?”

This was the goddamnedest conversation I never figured I’d have.

“If anyone should be shouldering the blame about Tilly’s situation—the fact she was even in Yemen—it’s me.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “I shouldn’t have let her visit me in the first place.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Doubt you could’ve stopped her.”

“You got that right. She’s headstrong, that one. Not many men would know what to do with her.”

“I do, sir. I know exactly how she should be treated. Like she’s the most precious woman in the world.”

“You don’t have to convince me, son.” In all seriousness, he mentioned, “You got my message from Blaize.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If I’m going to be your father-in-law, enough with the sir. Told you that once before. I meant everything I said in my report to Blaize. She’s got a crop of fine operatives and you’re one of the best. So despite the fact you didn’t ask for my blessing”—he winked—“I’m giving it.”

“Thank you, sir . . . James.” I held out my hand, and he pumped it twice between his.

“It’s not my say so, it’s Tilly’s. And she’s more in love and happier than I’ve ever seen her.” His voice dropped to a menacing note. “Now just don’t be stupid or hurt her, because I carry a gun too.”

Later that night Tilly and I whispered in the upstairs hall of the hotel. We’d rented a house farther down the beach for the honeymoon where we’d relocate after the wedding. The rest of our guests were due to arrive tomorrow morning in plenty of time for the afternoon nuptials, and this married-man thing was getting real.

Not as real as Lawless’s last threat, though.

“Your dad said he carries a gun and he’ll still shoot me.” I kissed Tilly’s shoulder, bared by her summery strapless dress.

Her fingers threaded through my hair. “Your parents think I’m utterly lovely and incredibly talented.”

“You are mean, Miss Tilly Lawless.” I prodded her against the wall, slanting my mouth over hers.

“I am not. I’m thoroughly in love.” She kissed my chin. “And soon to be Mrs. Justice Lawless-Chase as you seem so fond of informin’ everyone.”

With a kick of her heel, she opened her door—she’d insisted on separate rooms this final night before we were to be wed—and hurried inside.