Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) (14 page)

Asking about the wedding was a brain fart. She was surprised when he didn’t elaborate. Just said yeah, that this group he referred to as Family Justice had a wedding coming up. And that was it. He didn’t elaborate further and she didn’t push.

While cycling through her thoughts, she didn’t see the curve ball he threw until it broke right in front of her.

“Now, it’s your turn. You gonna explain what happened earlier?” He chewed slowly and licked sauce residue from his mouth. “Or do I have to throw an interrogation lamp in your eyes to get answers.”

Thud.
That was the sound of her stomach dropping out.

“Was it me, Heather? Was something I said or did a trigger?”

“No!” She shook her head vehemently. “No, Brody. It wasn’t you. Not really.”

“Then what? Have there been other attacks? Do you need to talk to somebody?”

Discarding an empty skewer, she reached for a napkin and wiped her mouth. “I’m fine. Maybe better than fine.” When he arched a skeptical eyebrow at her, she added, “No, really. I’m serious.”

“Going pale as a ghost and almost hitting the floor is better than fine? In what world does that statement make sense?”

She knew word games and clever distractions weren’t a healthy way to deal with these things. Plus, the only way to stay true to herself was by answering truthfully. She’d deal with the blowback later.

“I meant it when I said it might be a good thing. Timing leaves a lot to be desired, though.” She lowered her voice and slid some sarcasm into her reply. Speaking over her shoulder from the sink where she’d gone to wash her hands, she chose her words carefully. “Maybe my mom’s constant harping about getting a life…” A shrug finished the sentence. “I don’t know. Can’t really see the bigger picture when I’m focused on the little things.”

Drying off with some paper towels, she tossed the crumpled wad into the trash like an NBA superstar. “You saw that, right?”

Brody growled and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. Three-point throw. I got it. Now, keep talking.”

Her heart rate picked up. A sure sign that she was headed to the intersection of overexcited and compulsive. The urge to pick up a cloth and start cleaning … just to take the edge off … was riding her, hard. It took every ounce of control she could muster to lean against the counter and remain in one place.

There it was again. That feeling of falling. She felt s vulnerable without a shield. Tense fingers began twirling a section of hair that lay on her shoulder.

“I, um … well.” She swallowed.
Just say it
, her mind screamed. Crossing her arms across her barely covered chest, she blurted the words quickly and held her breath. “I’m not so comfortable … that is, what I meant to say is, um. I’ve been experiencing some loneliness and admitting that has sort of led to holes appearing in my protective barrier.”

“I’m one of those holes.” He said it with certainty, and she didn’t try to disagree. “Aren’t I?”

“Yeah. You are. Look,” she argued. “You took me by surprise.”

“How?”

“Seriously, Brody? How?
Pfft.
We might not invest much time in chitchatting during our time together. I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean you get to play dumb. That’s what this entire discussion is about. You sent me a Christmas card. From Arizona. You show up unexpected and without as much as a hello, start seducing me, and …”

“Excuse me? Seducing you? A bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Heather. Look at you. I’m betting a dime would bounce off your ass you’re wrapped so damn tight. It’s killing you to remain still. I’ve been watching,” he sneered with a deliberate side-glance at a wall clock. “Eleven minutes. I’m impressed, but honey, why are you so wired? The thumbs inside your clenched fists tell me you’re almost ready to go off. All this because I sent you a Christmas card?”

Heather released her hands and shook them out. He was right, of course. Brody was someone who did not discount nuance. He was a silent observer … of every little thing. If she were to ask, he’d no doubt be able to tell her what the wind speed was inside her apartment. While she had a hard time relaxing and was rarely stationary … he was a goddamn sphinx. Solid. Imposing. Unmoving. At times, deathly still.

Trying to act all calm and controlled while running frantic circles in her mind was turning out to be an epic fail. She was all over the place emotionally. Touching down on specifics then darting away to focus on something else. If their conversation was a mess, it was because of her.

Unable to stay still any longer, she growled in frustration and whirled around, smacking her hands on the counter. “Dammit, Brody.” He was on top of her in seconds.

“Okay, enough,” he ground out. His hands sweeping slowly up and down her arms gave her the chills. She heard a deep sigh. Then he held her upper arms tight, gave a little squeeze, and put his lips in her hair for a kiss on the back of her head. “Don’t turn around,” he ordered in a grating voice. “Just listen.”

“O-Okay.” Her calm answer belied the tingling sensation racing up and down her spine. She wanted him to press his body to hers but not being able to see him was killing her.

“Half of every year, I train security dogs for the Justice Agency. In Arizona. You could say those folks are my family. Them and Pops. Pops is my grandfather. He raised me after my parents died in an accident. Any questions you have about my family or Justice, I will gladly answer.”

“Oh.”

“The other half of the year I spend here. In Maryland. Teaching. And … being with you.”

He went silent for a minute. “You okay so far?”

Okay might be stretching it. She was starting to tremble. Pinned to the counter by his nearness, all she could do was attempt to stay standing. Everything else was gravy. “Yes.”

He let go of her arms and wrapped both his around her waist, pulling until her back was nestled to his front. Being barely dressed made the contact seem shockingly hedonistic.

“I feel like I’m living in limbo with both parts of my life. I love being in Arizona. But … I meant it when I said I missed you.”

“Brody,” she choked out.

“Let me finish.”

With her hands on top of his, she held on tight. A heavy fluttering assailed her stomach, and she didn’t know how to just stand there and listen. Old fears nipped at her ass. Her failings were going to hurt him. That much she was sure of. But she couldn’t stop what was happening. And didn’t want to.

“I shouldn’t have let this go on as long as it has.”

Heather gasped. What the hell did that mean?

“Letting it seem like all we had was sex was a bonehead blunder on my part. You hide behind that farce, honey. We both know it.”

Feeling the blunt statement’s honesty straight through to her bones, she groaned. Oh, no.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” he asked with a gentle squeeze. “Knowing so much about each other. Maybe that’s why we find it hard to share the other stuff. That’s what you meant before. I get it, m’lady. I do. But things are changing. They have to or else we never move forward as individuals.”

She snorted a reply. “Therapy speak.”

He laughed too. “I know, right?”

There was something she wanted to say. Something she needed to add. “I haven’t been to group in months,” she admitted in a hushed murmur.

“Is that why you had an attack?”

“No. I mean, maybe. But in a good way.”

“Care to explain?”

“I will if you let me turn around.” Having her senses cut off was making her more jumpy than usual. How could she weigh his facial expressions and judge his body language if she couldn’t see him? It was driving her crazy that he crushed her against him, a control position coming at her from behind. He knew he was challenging her.

“No. I don’t want you to turn around.”

She struggled briefly—a reflex.

His deep chuckle made her shiver. “Surrender.”

Her heart did a somersault, but she complied, more or less. When she relaxed, the sinking feeling returned. Pushing against him gave her comfort. She nervously laid her head back on his shoulder and let everything she was feeling have free rein.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Now, tell me why you haven’t gone to therapy, and why you think that’s a good thing.”

She took a deep breath and let the words come. “Picked up two newbies after you left last summer. Along the way, one of them called me a widow.”

His deep sigh was like a warm blanket for her soul.

“Just because the guy I married is dead does not make me a widow. I divorced his miserable ass long before he met his maker.”

“Bob didn’t shut that shit down?”

“No. I don’t know what happened.” She shrugged. “Maybe he was distracted or didn’t hear.”

His chest rose and fell a bunch of times. She could feel the tension in his torso. Brody knew she specifically abhorred that term. It was like hitting the pity party jackpot, and people immediately felt sorry for you. But she didn’t want or need anyone else’s emotional bullshit. Not after what Jason put her through. She was divorced. Period. Case closed.

“I guess it was right after that when I felt like, maybe, group wasn’t doing much for me.” She lowered her voice. “It wasn’t the same without you.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“No. Don’t be. You see, that’s what I’m having such a hard time explaining. Shit happens for a reason, you know? I think it’s time for me to move on. Figure out who I really am without a PTSD label following along. As Bob says, from victim to survivor. Right?”

“You shouldn’t try to do it on your own.”

“I know. But timing took over, and once I cut the therapy cord, things got clearer. And then you came back and well, here we are.”

“Oh, my god.” He chuckled. “Is this your way of saying you’re going to let me in?”

Good grief. Men were a challenge sometimes. “You’ve been let in plenty of times,” she quipped drily.

When he thrust his manhood against her lace covered ass and laughed, she tried again to turn around in his arms.

“Hold still. You wiggle worse than a kid does. I have an idea. How about we test your new resolve?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t like tests.”

Pfft.
“I know. Never a debater, always the moderator. It’s also time to cut the control cord, honey.”

“If this is your way of getting me into bed, you’re wasting your time. I’m a sure bet, remember?”

Just about the last thing she expected was the stinging bite he placed on her neck. Aw, come on. Biting was like a red flag to a bull.

“Yeah, it’s also a sure bet that if I let go of you, you’ll flip the cards and have me on my back in a heartbeat. I think it’s time you loosen the reins.”

Jesus. His words inflamed every one of her nerve endings. What was he suggesting? Surprised didn’t come close to describing the sensation when he reached for her wrists and gently pulled them behind her back. Holding them with a firm grip, he pressed into her softness and murmured close to her ear.

“Would you let me tie your hands …”

“No,” she answered a bit too quickly. And a tad too frantically. The loss of control terrified her.

“Okay. We’ll revisit the tying later. How about you just keep your wrists crossed behind you? Think you can do that?”

“Why?”

Her body was humming. Keeping hold of her wrists, Brody reached around with his free hand and laid it flat, fingers spread wide, on her exposed stomach.

“Do you trust me?”

Aw, shit. She hated when a question got answered with a question.

“Yesss,” she replied with a bit of hesitation.

He laughed. “But you only trust me as long as your hands are free.”

“Oh.” He made a good point.

“Trust becomes a different issue when the senses are cut off. Let’s say you can’t move your hands. And maybe you’re blindfolded too.”

Excitement flooded her core. He was wading into dangerous waters. Touching on things she kept from view. Everyone’s view. Even hers.

His hand moved, reaching up to trace her lips. “Piece of cloth, maybe stretch lace like your panties, made into a gag.”

Heather gasped. All those things frightened the crap out of her. And made her disturbingly wet. When his hand moved between her legs and rubbed the dampening lace, she quietly whimpered.

“That’s what I thought,” he growled lustfully. Swiftly turning her around, so fast she wobbled and grabbed onto him for balance, he took hold of her face and lowered his till barely an inch separated them.

“The fucking. It’s not enough anymore … is it?”

She couldn’t look away. Not with the way he held her face. Afraid, she closed her eyes and tried to stay upright.

“Don’t close your eyes, honey. I feel it too. That’s what all this is about. I think about you, Heather. And I want more. You do too no matter how hard you try to play it cool.”

She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Remembering the spike of jealousy she felt when a woman’s name appeared on his phone, she said the words before thinking them through.

“Do you have a girlfriend in Arizona?”

He didn’t pause, flinch, or hesitate in any way. “No. I jerk off to thoughts of you. Frequently. I guess you could say that’s why getting inside you was the only thing on my agenda the minute I hit town.”

My goodness, but he was being all sorts of direct. “Where is all this going?” she questioned.