Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (64 page)

Parker swiftly grabbed her hand. This was getting ridiculous. He had to make her stop. “Angelina,” he growled.

“Parker,” she answered with a mocking growl of her own.

Only thing was, while he’d grabbed her hand, he also made no real effort to remove it or stop her from rather boldly fondling him. With one hand thoroughly mapping his erection, she took two fingers of her other hand and tapped them lightly on her lips.

“Kiss, kiss Parker.”

He froze. She used to do the same thing as a little girl, always asking for kisses. During their torrid liaison, she’d turned the gesture into a private intimacy.

Her hand upon his straining flesh and those words still clinging to her lips pushed him to the edge. Grabbing her face in both hands, he pulled her into his mouth and went deep. A kiss wouldn’t hurt, right? Just one kiss. Maybe a really, really, really long kiss. With lots of tongue. Something wet and slow and sensuous.

Yeah. He was cool. They’d just kiss.

And kiss.

And kiss.

And kiss.

Moaning, she welcomed his mouth and wound her arms around his head, rubbing her silk covered tits on his bare chest while her tongue dueled lustfully with his.

Banding an arm about her torso, he held on, grabbing a handful of her sweet ass to knead and massage. Their faces were getting wet from the saliva and each time the need for air forced them apart, she licked his lips and whimpered until he returned and ravished her mouth some more.

Parker hung in there as long as he could. She was just this side of insatiable and so demanding that the kiss threatened to go supersonic until a point was reached that tested his limits and he knew they had to back off.

But each time he tried to peel her off and put some space between them, she protested and pushed him further.

Finally, when he was hanging by the thinnest of threads, he shook her off with a frustrated grunt. “Enough.”

She sat back on her feet and frowned sullenly. Running her hands over his thighs, she made a plea he was unprepared for.

“Please don’t make me leave here without having some part of you.”

Her words stunned Parker. “What is it you want, baby girl?” he asked. In a way, he dreaded her response.

“I think you know,” she replied, her busy hands making it difficult to think.

“We can’t,” he declared vehemently.

“But I want you.”

Why the hell did she have to lick her lips like that?
“Angie. Please. This isn’t a button you should push.”

“I.
Want.
You.”

She wickedly squeezed him in a demonstration of her want and that was it for him. Giving up, he sat back heavily in the big chair, gripped the soft leather upholstery on the arms and tilted his head back. Growling a terse, “Fuck,” he pinned her in place with a look. “You’d make a shitty submissive.”

She beamed at his scolding tone.
Dammit.

Once he surrendered, she went into overdrive, swiftly divesting him of his sweats. His shaft exposed, she gasped and exclaimed, “Oh, Parker!”

Keeping his hands on the arms of the chair was torture. Through eyes at half-mast, he examined the expression lighting up her face as she studied his bared flesh. His cock was a self-centered bastard, used to the admiring glances of women. Thick and long enough that he was accustomed to the thrilled sighs accompanying an unveiling, Parker was bowled over by the immense satisfaction he got from her obvious delight.

She got busy damn quick after that. Putting those soft hands of hers to good use, she thoroughly fondled and stroked his swollen flesh, making little noises that read like erotic shorthand in his mind.

Showing a particular fascination with the fat head of his sex and the ridges of sensitive flesh that ached for her attention, she created a mesmerizing sensual ballet out of handling his pulsing cock. By the time she bent forward and added her lips and tongue to the effort, he was so far over the edge that freefalling was guaranteed.

No stranger to a blowjob, Parker was nonetheless spellbound watching as Angel feasted on his manhood. She was on fire, greedily licking, nipping, and kissing the length of him.

It was a fucking given that he very much liked what she was doing. The wildcard was that she so obviously did, too. An adrenaline rush thundered through his body and he grunted along as she began taking him deeper and deeper on a journey of such exquisite pleasure, he ended up closing his eyes, his head thrashing on the back of the chair as she sucked him into an erotic trance.

He was so close—yearning for release—but not wanting to end the torture of pleasure that she was creating. Forcing his eyes to open, he watched through the ravenous craving clouding his vision.

Parker pounded his fist on the chair’s arm, grunting wildly at the sight of her luscious lips stretched around his swollen cock. Oh,
fuck.
It was too much. When she looked at him, half his dick in her mouth, eyes glazed with desire, he cried her name lustfully.

“Angelina!”

Plunging up and down on his staff, she worked his flesh until an orgasm of such intensity overtook him that he gave up his determination not to touch her and grabbed her head.

She welcomed his rough handling with eager moans as he pushed her to take him deep.
Deeper.
Until he felt her throat working the head of his cock.

When he exploded, she groaned and accepted the pulses and throbs of his wildly jerking flesh as he released in her mouth. She hadn’t wanted to leave without some part of him. Well, she certainly got what she wanted.

But he wasn’t happy about it.

A
NGIE CREPT SILENTLY FROM THE
study a while later, hurriedly making for her room. She shuddered to think what would happen if Alex found her sneaking around the downstairs in a nightie. Especially since there was no way to disguise the rather telltale aftermath of the oral seduction she’d lavished on the body of a certain lawyer. Biggest clues? Her hair was a total mess, and she had what Tori called BJ Lips, a polite way of saying her mouth had that puffy, swollen post blowjob look.
Eeek.
No way to hide that.

Safely back in her room, she threw herself onto the bed and hugged a pillow close. There was no way to explain what she’d just done. One minute, she’d been enjoying a hot spicy dream, and the next, she was demanding things from Parker she never had before.

All she knew was, when she woke up from a deep doze, surrounded by his heat and incredible smell and with the remnants of a highly erotic dream still in her thoughts, the first thing that occurred to her was
this man is mine.

She was done with all the bullshit and decided on a sleepy, sexy whim that no matter what it took, she was going to make Parker Sullivan love her. Luck didn’t happen to those who stood on the sidelines. If he was what she wanted, well . . . men, y’know? She’d be waiting forever for him to get a freakin’ clue unless she took matters into her own hands, or mouth, as the case might be.

Angie rolled into the pillow to hide her face and groaned loudly.
What had she done?
It wasn’t the balls-to-the chin, blowjob that was the problem. It was the expression on Parker’s face after. She’d struck a nerve, and it didn’t look like a good one.

Dawn had finally come but Parker had yet to return to the tiny room adjacent to Angie’s that he’d settled in despite a glowering frown from Alex. Nobody said fucking shit when he declared that he wasn’t leaving Angie’s side while Esperanza was still around, but that didn’t mean any of them were stupid. Putting him and Angie in nearby rooms was sexual suicide.

So he’d made a vow on the fly that no matter what, he’d show the proper respect to his friend and behave. He was a guest in the man’s home and sleeping with Alex’s sister while they were under his roof just wasn’t going to happen.

Why the hell did everything keep getting more and more complicated? And fucked up?

Flipping the fireplace control to off, he plodded on bare feet to the tall arched window looking out over an expanse of Villa property. He was at war with himself and needed the calm that the bucolic vista brought.

Ready to jump out of his skin at any second, Parker remembered other times he’d felt this unhinged. Months after he and Angie fell into their deadly silence, he and a small team of government lawyers and a handful of agents fresh from Quantico had been quietly dispatched into the middle of two fucking wars. Every goddamn thing the military and the government did was under constant legal scrutiny. It had been a busy time.

He’d bounced around to more black and special op compounds than he cared to remember. Brutal shit went on around him morning, noon, and night. Dropping into the middle of a war zone wasn’t unusual for him right up until he left Washington.

During a couple of those trips, he’d hooked up with Alex and learned a new term . . .
feral anxiety.
The conditions those guys lived under was staggering. What they were doing was terrifying. To say he developed a new level of respect for his friend was the understatement of all time. And he couldn’t even think about how much deeper that respect and gratitude went after the bombing, which nearly killed him.

Guard-dogging Angie had been his reason for staying at the Villa. Parker was a lot of things, but a total dog wasn’t one of them. His intentions had been genuine. Keeping that jackass Esperanza on a short leash and away from her was his primary motivation.

But he also had an itchy conscience because Alex trusted him to . . . well, he trusted him to keep it in his goddamn pants and remember where the hell they were.

Vigorously scraping both hands back and forth through his hair until his scalp tingled, Parker tried valiantly to rein in the angst eating him up. Never intending to disrespect his friend and supremely conscious of the privilege afforded him not only as a guest at the Villa but as a card-carrying member of Family Justice, his loss of control with Angie felt like a tawdry betrayal.
Ugh. Fuck.

The morning view was beautiful, but he was still jumpy and off balance. And it didn’t help at all that his inner beast complicated this emotional turmoil. The knuckle-dragging caveman was threatening to break free so he could thunder upstairs, push open her door, scoop her badass up and toss it over his shoulder—take her away from here where they could be alone and figure out what the fuck they were doing.

The figuring out part was admittedly second on the to-do list. First up was some bone-melting lovemaking and once and for all, he was going to tell her how he felt. That he’d loved her for her whole life and could never love another. And that he was more sorry than she will ever know for the years they lost.

Humming happily to herself as she ambled through the big hacienda, Meghan stopped to chat with the portrait of Alex’s great-great grandmother that hung in an upstairs hallway. She liked the beautiful señora’s enigmatic smile and knowing expression. Must be a family trait because she often saw the same look on the Major’s face.

“Morning, Abuela,” she chirped. “Did I say that right?” she chuckled. Shaking her head in mock annoyance, she teased the silent portrait, “Your great, great grandson dropped the ball, I’m sorry to say, when it comes to learning the language. But don’t you worry! I’m on it.”