Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (42 page)

Leaving out the emotional connection had been so huge a mistake that he was certain a page existed in some Alpha handbook somewhere with a subheading that read
How to Shoot Yourself in the Foot
with his picture alongside and a caption that read—Wanted for Grave Stupidity.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently.

She didn’t hesitate to jump right in.

“Is that how you see yourself, counselor? As a dominant.”

Parker snorted, amused. Instead of using his name, she thought to distance herself from the discussion with a shrug and the use of his lame ass title. He also noted she all but choked on the word
dominant.

“I don’t care for the emotional reaction that word evokes in people. And I don’t . . .
appreciate
. . . the posers who hide behind the power implied and use it to manipulate and abuse.”

He let that statement sink in as they drove.

She was fixed on him, and even in the darkened car, he imagined he could see flecks of gold swirling in her sapphire gaze.

“I’m a man who doesn’t take shit. Am I controlling? You know damn well, I am. But not in an asshole way.”

She made a noise . . .”
Hmmph.
”

“What’s the real question, Angel? Are you asking me if I want that in a relationship? With you?

She gasped.

Parker smirked. “Oh, and I don’t play word games. I cut to the chase. It’s an occupational hazard.”

W
HAT WAS IT ABOUT DRIVING
through the dark that sent a person inside their thoughts? Maybe the nighttime was imbued with special powers that helped to clear away cobwebs and open the mind.

Did
she want a relationship like that? Angie was surprised he was so direct, but at the same time, as the pieces began falling into place, she simply started seeing things she already knew, in a different light. This side of her brother’s best friend had always been there. It wasn’t new. Not at all.

Her thoughts were tempered by knowing that the last time she’d fallen under his commanding spell, she’d had been woefully unprepared for what she was getting herself into. This guy did not fuck around.

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.”

She 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.”