Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (28 page)

Drae pulled against the restraints and grunted. She did it again. And again. And again. The fingers of one hand slid under his balls and began fondling as the other continued to stroke. Yeah. He wasn’t going to last much longer if she kept that up.

Yanking forcefully on the ropes, careful not to accidentally ruin her fun by freeing himself, Drae dug his heels into the mattress and began thrusting his hips.

Growling like an animal in heat, he demanded gruffly, “Fuck me or suck me, woman.”

She smiled sweetly, openly amused by his loss of control.

“Suck and fuck sounds good to me.”

So she did.

“A
LEX WENT AHEAD,” MEGHAN TOLD
Angie as they bumped along an old dirt road in one the Villa’s fancy electric carts on their way to this special spot everyone kept rhapsodizing about.

“Wait till you see what Draegyn did out here! He built a pergola and a couple of benches, and next, we’re building a hearth.”

“This is that place from the framed picture in the den, huh?”

Angie noticed that Meghan colored slightly as she nodded. “Yeah. A lot of history.”

It was too hard not to laugh so she did. It hadn’t taken long in Alex and Meghan’s company to understand that the happily engaged couple pretty much banged morning, noon, and night.

Grinning stupidly, she pithily asked, “Is there any place you two haven’t done it?”

Meghan didn’t bother pretending not to understand what she was implying.

“Well, your room for one,” she answered smugly. “And, apparently, we’ve missed a couple of feet in the family room.”

Their raucous laughter filled the desert air.

“
Mmmm hmmm,
” Angie chuckled. “Draegyn specifically told me not to wander into any room with an unlocked door. Something about traumatic visions and going blind. Or limp. One of the two.”

Meghan’s head whipped around and even through the dark shades she wore, Angie could see her shocked expression.

“That asshole!” she gasped. “Why in the world would he tell you that?”

“I suppose because the story is funny as shit, Red.”

“Oh, dear lord,” Meghan groaned. “He told you? What the fucking fuck?” she shrieked with a choked laugh. “Is nothing private with these Justice men?”

Angie snickered quietly as Meghan drove along muttering darkly about paybacks and men with big mouths.

Taking pity on the other woman’s discomfiture, she changed the subject. “So what’s up with the Cameron’s? They’ve both been off the radar since Las Vegas. What gives?”

“
Hmph,
” Meghan uttered huskily. “Dunno. Something’s up, though. The Major is saying nothing, but I’m not blind. He and Drae are sending smoke signals with their eyes.”

“Have you tried to get it out of him?”

Laughing as though what she’d asked was the funniest goddamn question ever, Meghan looked over at her with an eye roll.

“Oh, darlin’,” she drawled comically. “That’s not how this shit works.”

“Do tell,” Angie quipped with a short laugh.

“Take notes, sis. This is how you handle a Justice alpha.”

“Knowing about these so-called control issues you say my brother suffers from, I cannot wait to hear your next words of wisdom, oh wise one!”

“Okay, well, first of all . . . alphas like to think they’re in charge.”

Once again, they both cracked the fuck up hooting with laughter.

“Yeah, I got that,” Angie agreed with a snorting grin. “Did I tell you that at the fondue restaurant, Parker didn’t even let me glance at the damn menu? Honestly! There’s
in charge
and then there’s
overcharge.
”

Meghan roared. “Overcharge! That’s a good one.”

“Whatever,” Angie groused. “Pissed me off, actually. I kept thinking . . . who died and made him king?”

“Get used to it,” Meghan wisecracked. “I’m thinking since Parker basically showed Alex the ropes as they were growing up, all that bad-boy fuckery your brother does so well had to start somewhere, and I blame Parker Sullivan.”

Wow. She really thought about that comment long and hard. Great observation on Red’s part. A small shiver of excitement skated along her nerves. She’d have to be a mindless idiot not to have noticed the relationship dance Meghan did with her brother. He was and always had been what she and Soph called the top dog. With just one look, he had the gravitas to cower both his younger sisters. And while Meghan most certainly did not cower, she did pay extra attention to his alpha tendencies—something that Angie viewed as brilliant.

“Lesson one. Never but never assume that you can manipulate a dominant male. It can’t be done.”

Angie made a face and groaned. “Great.”

Laughing, Meghan kept on. “But that doesn’t mean he has the upper hand. Far from it. Just by admitting that you can’t manipulate him, you’ve already won.”

“Missing the point, I’m afraid.”

“It’s simple, really. If he knows you’ve already thrown in the towel on trying to get the upper hand, he’ll be easier to handle. Mostly, I just wait Alex out. Sometimes,” she giggled, “I know he’s dying for me to ask about something, and I say nothing. Eventually, he’ll spill the beans because he has to!”

“I would have thought with how close you two are, that if something was going on with Lacey and Cam, he’d share it with you.”

“Oh, he will,” Meghan assured her, “when he’s ready. The bond between Draegyn, Cam, and the Major is a force of nature. They’re hardwired into each other. Whatever it is, the Justice men are handling it and that’s enough for me, right now.”

“Aren’t you worried, though? About Lacey?”

Something appeared off in the distance, making Angie sit up and take notice. She could just barely make out Alex’s old truck parked in a spot surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery she’d ever seen.

“Of course, I’m concerned, but Cameron worships Lacey. He’d never let anything happen to her. She’s in excellent hands and I trust him, and Alex and Drae, to keep her safe.”

“Will she be okay with singing at Pete’s this weekend?”

Meghan didn’t answer right away. Obviously, she was worried about the state of affairs down at the cabin.

As the buggy bumped along, getting closer and closer to this special spot, she got a clearer view of the setup. Eventually, a wide distinctive pergola took shape with a curved top that gave it an oddly Asian flair.

“Oh my,” she muttered.

“Just wait,” Red sniggered with a half-laugh. “Sedona has its vortexes and Villa de Valleja-Marquez does, too.”

Angie shivered from head to toe. An energy vortex. Damn, she loved that kind of shit. Was sort of why she felt so drawn to this locale. She grew up thinking people who were skeptical of such things were really missing out. She friggin’ lived for that feeling—out in nature and swept away by a beneficial source of energy.

All of a sudden, she was that eleven-year-old girl again—adventuring on her own out into the desert and stumbling upon such a spot. The very idea that this place they were headed to was infused with the energy of her ancestors made Angie giddy.

As the pergola came into better view the closer they got, her eager eyes took in a thousand little details since this was definitely something she wanted to remember later.

Cataloging every little thing that hit her eyes, she was startled when Meghan informed her, “Parker seems to be here as well.”

“What?”

“
Mmmm hmmm,
” Meghan drawled. “He’s kind of hard to miss. The guitar is a nice touch though, don’t you think?” she simpered mockingly.

Oh, for the love of all that’s holy,
Angie groaned inwardly. Really?

She hadn’t noticed him at first because he was standing against one of the massive wood posts supporting the wide arched top of the structure so he kind of blended in.

“Fuck my horny life,” she muttered under her breath, earning a loud giggle-snort from her companion.

Did he have to look so hot?
Goddammit.

Casually leaning, he had one foot up to mid-calf on the post behind him and a guitar in his hands looking every bit the rebel rocker sporting rumpled looking hair, a pair of dark Ray-Bans, and flashing a toothy grin at them as they approached.

They pulled up next to Alex’s truck and switched off the ignition. Half a second later, Angie jumped when she heard Meghan squeal as Alex came out of nowhere and hauled her from the cart.

“About time,” he barked in that funny He-Man way her brother excelled at. “We’re starving. What did Ria send?” Alex the barbarian inquired as he started pawing through the enormous cooler packed with all sorts of goodies for their afternoon delight.

“Brought that asshole with me,” he grumbled jokingly. “Hey! Dumbass. Come lend a hand.” He hollered at Parker who sauntered toward them, stopping to drop his guitar onto a bench.

“Thank god you’ve arrived, ladies,” he drawled. Making a clownish face, he whooped it up and pointed at Alex. “He’s worse than a three-year-old being told no in a candy store when he’s hungry. How do you put up with his shit, Irish?”

Meghan stepped up and let Parker throw his arm around her shoulders while she wrapped one of hers around his waist. They both stood there with sad expressions as they considered poor Alex.

“I’ve got him on a feeding schedule,” Meghan teased. “No! I shit you not,” she insisted when Parker broke out with a laugh. “Seriously. It’s the only way to manage him! He’s like Dylan. Or Daniel. Or hell, all of you boys,” Meghan jested as she turned and socked Parker on the arm. “Don’t try and pretend you don’t tie the feed bag on every couple of hours,” she taunted.

Alex snickered, held up a roast beef slider, and said, “Word,” then went back to stuffing his face. Angie had to laugh. These people were a living, breathing comedy act. Their dynamic was something to see. She wondered where she fit in.

Parker chuckled and turned all of his attention to Angie. She could feel his sexy x-ray vision through the dark glasses covering his eyes. His lip curled. She liked to think of it as his Elvis move.

“Don’t suppose you brought an instrument with you?” he asked.

Now . . . why the hell did it seem like everything he said made her sizzle? He was asking if she had a guitar. He knew she played. It was a normal question seeing as how he had his. But it was the way he asked and the suggestive emphasis on the word
instrument
that rendered her half-a-moron.

Meghan heard the inquiry and jumped in.

“Oh, that’s right. You told us you could play. Guitar, right?”

“She plays beautifully,” Parker declared with a warmth that surprised her.

Alex walked past them carrying the enormous cooler by himself and sneered at Parker as he went by. “I thought you were here to be helpful, dude. Not drool like a twelve-year-old over my sister.”

As if on cue, Meghan dissolved into giggles as Parker opened and closed his mouth like he might say something but no sound ever came out.

“C’mon,” Meghan said as she twined her arm around Angie’s. “Let me show you around. We call this place Amor Vórtice. Our very own power place.”

The minute Meghan led her into the shade of the pergola, Angie was in heaven. Oh, my god. This was amazing!

A big circular area, quite large in fact, had been laid with muted earth tone pavers that bore the shadow created by the lattice worked over the arched top of the pergola. Small wind chimes hung at opposite ends of the structure from the top of the vertical posts. Two heavy wood benches were at one end and a couple of Adirondack style chairs and a small table sat nearby.

Next to a large storage chest was a pile of brick and stone that Meghan told her was there for the hearth they wanted to add. It was a unique, in-the-middle-of-nowhere oasis.

“The chairs are new,” Red chimed happily as Alex plopped down in one.

“Yep. Lugged ’em out here in the truck. And Tori sent along some chick thing. A couple of hand-blown hanging candleholders. Very cool. They’re boxed in bubble wrap and in the truck bed.”

“This is amazing,” Angie murmured. And it was. Big enough to handle at least a dozen people comfortably, the space was blooming with potential.

“Place needs a grill,” Parker declared rather decisively.

Angie ducked her head and smiled. Meat and fire? Yep. Seemed about right.

They dragged the benches and rearranged what furniture they had until everyone was comfortable. Settled, an hour flew by as the four of them lounged, ate, drank a little bit, laughed, teased, and told stories.

It was, as far as Angie was concerned, a little slice of Southwest heaven.

After a bit, while she and Meghan cleared away their trash and secured the leftovers, the guys sat across from each other on the big benches and started doing what was essentially a form of dueling banjos.
So competitive, these two!
she thought. Just as it had always been

She sighed, looked with loving eyes on her brother, and sighed again. By putting so much distance between them, she’d deprived Alex of this. The three of them hanging out; only now, the numbers weren’t so lopsided with Meghan along. Now it really was boy-girl, boy-girl.

Enjoying their bawdy repartee—something that would never get old—she sprawled in one of the chairs and quite simply, drank it all in. The beautiful setting, the clear blue sky overhead, the distinctive red-hued rock formations, all second to the two men who had settled into a strikingly beautiful acoustic version of an old Bon Jovi standard.