Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (51 page)

“I’ll help move this along,” he grumbled. “You’re going to tell me why you think you’re not enough for me and somewhere in that jumbled mess is a question.”

“Can you sit down, please?” she begged, patting the space next to her. “You freak me out like that.”

“Like what?”

An excess of energy, fueled by sexual tension and Cuervo Gold, burst free inside her. She manically shook her hands and pouted. “Oh god, I don’t know.”

Parker snickered softly but sat next to her.

It was now or never,
she thought. He was halfway smiling—because, as usual, he’d found something to tease her about—and there’d never be a better time to just say it all out loud.

“You frighten me sometimes,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

He went absolutely still.

“I don’t mean I’m afraid. From the very beginning, I felt so young and dumb and . . . and . . .” She paused and frowned, searching for the right words. “Um, unsexy or something. And you, well, you were the one who knew, who had all the experience, and were so matter-of-fact about everything.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, Parker. That always confused me. And even now, I don’t know what to call that whole weird time. We weren’t dating. It’s not like we were involved. Was it an affair? To say we slept together just sounds tacky but what else was there? I mean, would you even call that a relationship? I felt then and even a little now like a dumb kid that you were teaching the ropes to.”

He moaned. At least he was listening so she added one last thought to her mini-tirade. “Just like you taught my brother.”

T
HERE WASN’T ENOUGH TEQUILA LEFT
in the bottle to get him through this conversation,
he thought glumly. He’d asked for this years ago. Maybe he didn’t know the actual words she’d use but he knew what was at the core. Had even alluded to it earlier when he admitted he hadn’t treated her right before.

Everything they did together was a series of firsts for her, but he’d given zero effort or thought to what that meant. There had been no romance. No slow seduction over a carefully planned dinner, never a chance for her to indulge her girly side by taking her out and showing her off someplace where she could dress up and feel special.

Feel special.
What a dumbass motherfucker he was. Never once had he made her feel like a priority. From her standpoint, of course, it must feel like there hadn’t been a relationship at the core of what was going on.

Oh shiiiit,
his mind screamed. Shit, shit, shit. Clarity was a cruel bitch. By tying in her conflicted feelings from before with the knowledge that he’d been something of a mentor for Alex, she’d arrived at a conclusion that pretty much damned his sorry ass to hell.

Buck up, counselor. Now was not the time for glib so grab your balls, shithead, because that little lady hanging her head like she had anything at all to explain or apologize for had bigger ones than you!

Lowering his head into his hands, he rested his elbows on his thighs and groaned. He was older and supposed to be smarter, wiser. He had to say something significant. Immediately. Sooner than immediately. And then he had some serious explaining to do.

“When I made love to you,” he began cautiously, sitting up and angling toward her, “I . . .” He stopped cold at the angry look on her face.

“Do not call what we did making love. Don’t do that to me, Parker.”

Whoa. He never wanted to hear that tone again—Angel had teeth. And maybe claws.
Okay then.

He dipped his head to acknowledge her objection and pivoted to a rewording of his previously interrupted statement.

“Okay, maybe a bit blunt, but if that’s how this needs to go, so be it. So, the first time we had sex, I was such a fuckwad that until it was too late to change course, I was clueless on the state of your um . . . innocence.”

He heard a faint intake of breath on her part. “Are you saying you didn’t know I was a virgin?”

Jesus. Even now, he still cringed at the memory. Didn’t know. Wasn’t prepared. Reacted badly. Fucked her viciously. Guilty.

“I did
not
know, to my great shame, by the way. And then once I did, instead of telling you how I felt, well . . . you know.” He shrugged.

“Said nothing.”

“Right. I was embarrassed and yeah, I admit . . . my embarrassment trumped your innocence.”

“Oh.”

Yeah. Oh.

“Which brings me to the bullshit you have in your head about me and Alex and all that BDSM crap. You knowing about The Cavern only makes it worse. And honestly, most of it I can’t explain—especially not with half a bottle of tequila in me—but ask yourself this, baby. If I really saw myself as some all-powerful being who just wanted to take and be in control, would I just have admitted to being embarrassed? Don’t you think if that’s all I wanted, you’d be naked and on your knees with my cock buried inside you?”

“I don’t understand what you want,” she wailed softly. “I can’t just be a sex toy. I need more than that, but you never asked for anything else. Never wanted more than just that.”

Ouch. That fucking hurt.

“Fuck, Angie! Don’t you see? We already had all that other stuff. You were closer to me than family. We didn’t have to explore whether we shared interests. Shit. Please tell me you see that. I swear to god it wasn’t just about the sex.”

Fear, regret, desire, tequila—all roiled in his gut.

“Tell me what you want,” she pleaded again. “Tell me exactly where you see this going. I’ll always worry I’m not going to be enough unless you spell it out.”

He wanted to yell and maybe break something. Oh, dear god—she thought she wasn’t enough. What the fuck? She was
everything.
And all that other stuff? Time to set the record straight.

“I want
you.
All of you. No-holds-barred. I want you to speak your mind and be exactly who you
are
—not someone you think you
should
be.”

It bothered him that she had her arms crossed so rigidly that it looked like she was trying to keep from falling apart. But, at the same time, he saw a warmth in her eyes that was enough to keep him talking.

“Don’t believe all that shit you see in the movies,” he said and then quickly amended the comment. “Actually, I’m wrong. Believe all that shit because it does happen but I promise you—whatever you’re thinking about me and Alex is all wrong. Can I explain, please? About The Cavern, at least?”

Giving him a shaky nod, Angie sat quietly with a slightly defense in her posture but it was still there.

“Look, this may sound like a ton of horseshit, but it’s really the simple truth. Ninety-nine percent of anything that happened during that time can be chalked up to one thing . . . Washington. The other one percent was normal curiosity.”

“You told me once you hated it. All the phoniness.”

Had he said that? Thank god because maybe having that as a reference she’d listen to what he was trying to say.

Not able to sit still any longer, Parker lumbered to his feet and moved aimlessly about the room. It helped him think. Like pacing back and forth in front of a jury.

“What I did there, well. . . . that shit never lets you go,” he told her. “It’s been a couple of years, but that doesn’t keep me from being involved. Still.”

He was uncomfortable making the statement mostly because he hoped if he didn’t say that stuff out loud maybe it really would just go away. But for guys like him who had been heavily involved on the legal end of the early days of the war on terror, they’d be tied to it forever.

“In that type of environment, where the reality is so horrific and gruesome that you become numb to it, people tend blow off steam in unusual ways.”

The time he spent in the nation’s capital had been formative years for Parker professionally. With a little effort, he’d found himself on a fast-moving, inside track. Almost overnight, he was in with the power hitters and superstars—lobbyists, politicians, the FBI, military. With Washington being ground zero for doing everything legally, his sharp mind and impressive verbal skills got him noticed quickly. Everyone wanted to either be his friend or have him as one of their entourage. It was a heady time during which he’d seen history being made first hand. He’d also seen way too up close and personally the darker, grittier side of the power town.

“The Cavern was a particular favorite of the special ops guys, the security contractors. The badass motherfuckers who didn’t have time for downshifting to hearts and flowers. For them . . . well, it was different. Each time your brother came statewide, he always did a long stay-over in D.C. That’s how either of us even knew about that place, so for real . . . Alex brought me into it. Not the other way around.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes, but there was the hint of a smile near her lips.

“Hey! Don’t be hatin’!” he teased. “I coulda’ been blowing rails off some high paid hooker’s ass.” He actually shuddered at the thought. “So a sex dungeon that was all watch and no play doesn’t seem all that bad now, huh?”

“All you did was watch?” she asked.

“Yep.”

Even though half the room was between them, he saw her facial expression shift as she considered what he said.

“You never . . .”

“Fuck, no. Angie. Do I seem like a
do it in public
kind of guy? Or someone who’d find the presence of another dude even remotely okay?”

Finally, she changed position. Loosened up. Tucking her feet beneath her, she sat on them, her long skirt completing covering her legs. Adjusting the unbuttoned blouse, she pulled her clothes together while he watched.

The tension of a frown marked her face, but by the time she was buttoned up and had pulled her hair into a single tumble over one shoulder, she looked remarkably less troubled.

“So that’s not what you want? I always thought because of some of the stuff we did that . . .”

He cut her off as quickly as he could. “No! And that’s my point if you’d let me finish.”

She sat back on her feet with a startled flash of shyness.

“No, that’s
not
what I want but I see where you’d get that impression. I’m not a dominant,” he growled, making air quotes and saying the word with as much sarcasm as possible. “And I’m not in the market for a submissive. No contracts. No crazy rules. No need to inflict pain. Understand?”

Parker gritted his teeth—he hadn’t meant to raise his voice. He also broke out the cross-armed, naked chest, feet wide apart stance that generally made mere mortals quake.

Shaking his head, he muttered, “Shit,” and uncrossed his arms. “Sorry for yelling.”

“Oh no,” she choked out. “Feel free to yell all you want.”

What did she say? Go ahead and yell all he wanted? Wait a minute. Parker walked over to the leather bench where she sat perched on her knees to get a good view of her face to try and read her expression.

What the hell? She was literally bent over in half, her face on her knees, slapping a hand on the leather as her screams of laughter split the air.

“I’m sorry,” she wailed a bit hysterically as a fresh wave of uncontrollable giggles left her flailing uncontrollably.

Parker couldn’t help but laugh. She was completely undone with laughter. Full throated, tears rolling down her cheeks, hysterical shrieks that filled up the room with her joy.

Play-acting with a deep scowl on her face and a comical gruff voice she said, “I like it when you yell and do that caveman thing.
Rrrroar!
”

And then she giggled some more. “Especially when you play all badass—try to distract me with the killer chest and are you fucking kidding me jeans.”

He was grinning like an idiot. Just like that, they were officially too drunk to know what they were doing so no more serious discussion and now that she brought it up, he thought,
maybe I should put my shirt back on.
The very last thing they needed was a tequila injected sex romp in the Villa tack room to help them navigate this weirdness.

He bent to pick up the t-shirt and she was suddenly all over him like an eager puppy anxious to play.

Swaying ever so slightly, she told him emphatically, “You told me what you wanted so now I have to say something . . . about that, I think. I should say something, right?” she asked.

He nodded solemnly knowing he was egging her drunk ass on.

“Well, wouldn’t you like to know?” she taunted while he laughed at her inebriated state.

Straightening as tall as she could muster and with all the dignity of a drunken duchess, she tossed her hair back and stuck her cute little nose up in the air.

“I may be a lady, sir,” she told him with a weak wristed wave, “but I like it dirty.”

Parker blinked. Did she say dirty?

“You did that, you know. Taught me from the start that dirty was what I did best.”

Once the words were out there, they both froze.

A freight train of emotion derailed inside his chest. He couldn’t prevent what he said next.

“Were you dirty with him? That motherfucker you were going to marry?”

He knew damn well that he shouldn’t have asked—he didn’t have the right, but he didn’t know he was going to say it until the words came out.