Dear Bella: A Family Justice Novella Read online

  Copyright © 2016 by Suzanne Halliday

  DEAR BELLA ~ A Family Justice Novella

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by an means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  This book is meant for mature readers who are 18+.

  It contains explicit language, and graphic sexual content.

  ISBN: 978-1-945399-05-3

  Edited by Gemma Rowland

  Book Cover Design by www.ashleybaumann.com

  Formatting By Champagne Formats

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  New Year’s Eve

  Other Books

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To everyone who still believes

  BRODY SHUT THE laptop and sat back in his desk chair. From habit, he kicked off with his foot and sent the chair into a slow rotation. The walls of his office study spun by as his mind chewed up and spat out pieces of information.

  His daughter was six years old and her opinion of the fat, jolly, red suit wearing big guy that every other kid her age had on the A List fell somewhere between Brussels sprouts and haircuts. Two things she was belligerently opposed to.

  In short, Santa was an asshole because in the mind of a child, losing track of her and forgetting to drop by once a year showed an unforgiveable lack of manners. And manners were a big deal to Miss Bella Mia Jensen. Manners created a bridge between the horror of her early days and the much different life she enjoyed today. Santa turning out to be a manner-less dick was complicating his Dad-ing.

  “Uh oh.”

  He spun toward the softly murmured sound and stopped. Heather. Just seeing her made everything okay. She would help him figure out what to do.

  The gentle sway of her hips as she crossed the room caught his attention. Whoever thinks yoga pants aren’t sexy as fuck needs a head exam because seer-ee-osly, unf.

  Spearing her fingers into his hair, she pushed the dirty blonde mess off his forehead and grabbed the sides of his face.

  “You’ve got a bummed out dad look again. What’d I tell you about that shit?”

  Brody’s expression lightened. Her words lightly scolded and teased.

  “If you don’t stop making that face Mr. Jensen, I will be forced to fuck away your pout.”

  “I beg your pardon,” he growled with mock offense. “Manly men do not pout. And according to the Dick Chart, I am the manliest of men.”

  She laughed and dropped a quick kiss on his lips. Straightening, her hands went to her waist as she gazed down at him with that ‘Oh, here we go,’ expression that women do so well.

  Was it all kinds of fucked up that her stern nanny act turned his dick to stone? Oh god, yeah. And she knew it too.

  “The Dick Chart,” she groaned. “I’m going to regret asking but you set it up so go ahead darlin’. What the hell is a Dick Chart?”

  His eyes went to the juncture of her thighs He was endowed with a very nice cock and he wasn’t being a shithead for putting it that way. Thick and long, Brody liked to think of his manhood as a secret weapon. A weapon Heather tamed a long time ago. Looking at her, his brain struggled with the basic concept of his considerable size inside her and how the hell it fit. And fit did it ever.

  The space they occupied became infused with sexual energy and in the blink of an eye his senses steadily ratcheted up until he was taking her in. Desperate for a taste, his mouth tingled with hunger. Her scent, sweet and intoxicating, over-ran his brain.

  A thin white scoop neck tee clung to her torso and tied in a knot on her hip. Brody licked his lips. Her nipples pressed against the flimsy fabric, their outline visible and begging for his teeth.

  Answering her question was his pleasure because he knew damn well her pleasure would be the end result and nothing turned him on more than the chance to make her come with his throbbing flesh buried in her wet heat.

  “A Dick Chart my love is the standard by which all men are graded. There’s the little dick classification.” He rubbed his hand over the growing bulge evident in his pants. “That one’s mostly reserved for pricks like Finn O’Brien.”

  Heather snickered softly and slid a mocking expression onto her face. “That’s not what I heard.”

  He did a double take. What?

  “It’s not just about size, you know,” he growled. “And how do you know anything at all about Cocky Brisket’s man meat?”

  “There was a secret gossip crew meeting. Meghan wasn’t invited. Finn’s, uh, attributes, may or may not have been discussed.” Leaning in with a conspiratorial chuckle she murmured, “The dumb fuck got his bad self manhandled after the Halloween party.” Disdain rolled off every word when she straightened again and derisively sneered, “By a veteran, tattle tale cock wrangler. Serves him right for being an indiscreet moron.”

  Jesus Christ. This might actually turn out to be funny. So what did he just learn? Finn earned himself front-of-the-line status in the gossip flying around Bendover and unless he was missing something, his lady cared less about whatever dickish behavior the Irish fucknut engaged in and more about opening himself up to ridicule for being an easy mark by an experienced cock gobbler.

  That she graded Meghan’s tiresome little brother on a curve piqued his interest. But no amount of curiosity was going to deflate the insistent hard-on dominating his senses.

  “Well be that as it may,” he drawled. “Finn and his dubious brisket aside, the Dick Chart isn’t just about having one. It’s also about being one. And since my specimen is of the prime grade A quality, I get Manly Man status, and with Manly Man comes an automatic pass for the occasional guy behavior faux pas or brain fart.”

  The air around them exploded with sparkles of light when Heather threw back her head and laughed for all she was worth.

  “How the hell did we go from me threatening to fuck away your sexy pout to you claiming a free pass for brain farts and guy behavior?”

  He smiled.

  “Seriously, Brody. I can’t have you looking like the Christmas fairy shit in your Captain Crunch. Whatever it is putting that expression on your face aside, do you want me to fuck you or not?”

  Loving this woman was the easiest thing he’d ever done. She was his everything and if his Christmas plan came off as he hoped, next year was going to be the start of something really special.

  But right now he had an obviously horny female practically straddling his lap. Automatically swiping his lips when her scent invaded his senses, his tongue lingered at the corner of his mouth. Her eyes zeroed in on the movement. Was she thinking about all the things he wanted to do to her?

  “I wasn’t pouting,” he grumbled, “but yeah, baby. I want you to fuck me stupid.”

  “Winning!” she giggled and then proceeded to break into a sexy touchdown dance that guaranteed a fuckfest worthy of their dirty minded Stan and Francine alter-egos.

  Ripping the t-shirt over her head, his paramour bunched it into a ball and sent it sailing across the room until it skidded across the top of his desk.

  Heather’s tits were fantastic. Words were coming out of her mouth but all he could ponder at the moment was the sight of the delectable mounds bouncing and swa
ying as she moved.

  “So your choice Manly Man. Heads, tails, standing up, laying down, on the desk, bent over the sofa.” She put a finger in her mouth and struck a little girl pose. “And I’m starved. Hungry.”

  Her voice had a deepening, smoky quality. He grunted at her suggestive words and pushed for clarification. “What are you starving for?”

  “Here,” she cooed. Licking the end of her finger she gazed on him with a ravenous hunger. “On my tongue. I’m starving to feel your cock sliding into my mouth.”

  Yep. Consider whatever tenuous control he fought to hang on to as dunzo. The thoughts he had before about his fat cock inside her gave way to another favorite fantasy. The one where she made exquisite love to his manhood with her mouth. Brody was pretty god damn sure that until he’d experienced Heather’s adoration of his cock with her tongue that he’d never really lived before. What she did to his flesh and his senses took him to another place.

  Being a gentleman however meant that she needed a couple of mind blowing orgasms before getting on her knees. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Thoroughly enjoying the little girl charade, he casually reached for her nipples, rolling the tight nubs between his fingers and pinching until she moaned. Knowing his woman as he did, Brody was confident the moan accompanied a flood of hot wet desire.

  With a hoarse grunt he met her eyes. “I like your hunger. It,” he paused and let her tension build, “excites me.” Taking her hand he covered his hard-on with it and pressed her fingers into his flesh. “That’s all you. All for you,” he growled.

  The gleam in her eyes turned him on. Heather was an intensely sexual being. He needed that. Finding an extraordinary woman with primal passions much like his changed his life. With her he felt whole. Knowing she loved every part of him was Brody’s sanctuary from a ton of fucked up shit that might have destroyed him otherwise.

  “Do you like this desk?” He asked, rising to his feet. “I wasn’t sure at first. Had an oval office feel to it to start with.”

  Her eyebrows bumped together and she glanced at the enormous piece of furniture dominating the room. God, she was cute.

  “Um, yeah. It’s a good desk. Big. Sturdy.” She shrugged. He silently chuckled knowing she was wondering what the fuck he was talking about.

  Turning her around, he positioned her where he wanted. Hands resting on the edge of the wood slab, slightly bent forward. Palming her ass through the yoga pants, he took a second to thoroughly enjoy the sight of her tits hanging.

  Standing behind her he deliberately pressed his hard bulge to her ass and ground against her while holding her hips. Her hushed whimper sounded a lot like it was cut short by some lip biting.

  Tearing his shirt off, he threw it onto the desk. His pants were next. Yanking on the buckle, he made quick work of unzipping his jeans and pushing them down his legs. The sound from the heavy metal belt buckle hitting the floor acted like a starting gun on his libido.

  Leaving his briefs on, because being butt ass naked would only undermine his plan, he lowered behind her ass, enjoyed the view and then slowly peeled the clingy pants down her gorgeous legs. When he leaned closer to help her step out of the legs, the scent of female excitement made his heart pound harder.

  Beneath the exercise gear she wore a skimpy thong that drew his eyes to the crack of her ass. As beautiful as her tits were, nothing quite compared to Heather’s perfect bottom. It was like the gods had it made from specifications and desires unique to him alone. And since taking her ass was pretty high on his bucket list, he gave himself a few moments to admire her sweet rear.

  Stroking the skin, he took pleasure in seeing a swath of goosebumps spread wherever he caressed. Tracing the lines of the thong he made her shiver with nothing more than some careful tantalizing.

  Although his lady liked soft and gentle, she had an animalistic side too that preferred something a bit more… direct. He liked direct. Liked playing with her primal nature.

  Using his fingertips to draw sensuous designs on her sensitive flesh, he waited for her moan and then immediately sank his teeth into the fleshy part of her ass and bit. Hard.

  Heather’s sexy grunt turned to a whimpering cry and to his amazement, her legs began to tremble. Ravishing her was going to be damn easy, a thought which did not bum him out in the least.

  The flimsy panties had to go. Hooking his fingers into the sides, he pulled them down, peeling the damp fabric off her leaking mound. She was positively vibrating once her ass was naked.

  He kissed the cheek of her ass. She sighed so he gently kissed the other side. Standing up, he swung her around to face him and slid his hand between her legs. Tempting though it was to push his fingers inside her, he cupped her mound and used his hand to lift her onto the desk.

  “Up you go, baby. Plant that sweet ass on my desk.”

  She gasped but wiggled and shimmied until her knees were bent and ass hanging close to the edge.

  “What do you say we christen this bad boy with some of your sweet juices? Hmm?”

  He ran two fingers up and down her slit. She undulated and growled her pleasure.

  Spreading her arms wide, Heather claimed the space and pushed shit off the wood surface, sending papers and a framed picture onto the floor. When she rolled her hips and spread her thighs wider, he laughed.

  “Note to self,” he chuckle-murmured before dropping a soft kiss onto her belly. “Keep a vibrator in the desk drawer. This is a fantastic view,” he told her just before lowering into his desk chair. “I could sit here and watch your pussy cream on that Lelo you like so much.”

  Thinking he was being Mr. Smooth and Sexy, the last thing he expected was for her to make a joke. Somehow, being naked and spread open on his damn desk for his wicked delectation didn’t seem like a time for funny. He was wrong.

  “Put it on your list for Santa. Maybe he’ll load your stocking up with naughty bits.”

  “Naughty bits, hmm?” he murmured. Gently parting the outer lips of her pussy with his hands, he toyed with a dribble of arousal and used it like icing as he spread it on her beautifully swollen clit.

  “Brody,” she growled. The scent of arousal, hers, hung heavily in the air. He saw her toes curl and heard a hushed whimper. Remarkably, her hips relaxed and her thighs opened fully.

  Playing with her clit was the sexiest fun he ever imagined. He teased the pretty little nub, rubbing it and then stopping to admire his work. Each time he spread her open with his hands for a good look she groaned, and her pussy leaked more.

  This is getting good, he thought. Sticking his face close to her damp curls, Brody inhaled and enjoyed the aroma of her body’s primitive signal. There was something sexy as all hell knowing that she was readying to be fucked. His excitement increased as he thought about what she was feeling. What she was thinking.

  With excruciating slowness he used two fingers to penetrate her. She was hot, wet, and untethering quickly from decorum and reality.

  Small whimpering “Ohs” and a few grunting “Unfs” turned his cock to marble. When he saw her hands massage her tits and felt the surge of fresh hot wetness on his fingers, he grinned.

  “That’s my girl,” he murmured soft and low. Encouraging her to let go with his fingers and words, he told her in graphic terms how much he liked fingering her pussy.

  Rotating his hand, he switched angles and used his thumb to tease her hardened clit.

  “Watching your pussy get ready to come is so fucking hot.”

  She moaned and writhed while he fingered her wet depths and rubbed at the bundle of nerves. Actively chasing an orgasm now, he studied her response. Felt her inner muscles clutch his fingers as sweet smelling nectar leaked profusely onto his hand.

  It didn’t take much to send her rocketing into a loud climax. Hips jerking, her head thrashed side to side and she wailed out short, grunting cries.

  When it was over, he sat back in his chair and stared between her legs, watching as aftershocks pulsed. She was groan
ing and he was well pleased. Rubbing her swollen mound, he patted her like a good dog.

  “Ready for my tongue, pretty lady?”

  Brody chuckled when she moaned.

  “Hey,” he teased while tapping lightly on her clit. “Don’t give up so easily. You’ve got a couple more pulsing orgasms to go before my desk is covered with your sweet come.”

  “But,” she whined breathlessly.

  He laughed and rolled her clit between his fingers. “I know. You want my cock. On your tongue I believe was the way you put it. We’ll get to that baby. No worries. But first, my tongue, your pussy and then my cock stroking so deep you’ll beg for more. After you drench my dick, and I do mean drench,” he added with a wicked chuckle, “you can suck me dry.”

  She let out a low, satisfied moan of consent and encouragement. It seemed a shame to waste such enthusiastic desire so he sat back and gripped the arms of his chair.

  “But first, show me with your fingers what turns you on. Get those fingers pumping darlin’. No coming though. Not unless my mouth is on your pussy.”

  The show she put on was pure triple X-rated fuckery. Watching as she pleasured herself had a dangerous effect on his body. He’d never make it to the cock sucking part of things if he let this go on much longer.

  Pushing her hands away, he wasted no time, diving straight in. No joke. He could lick Heather’s pussy twenty-four seven and still complain there wasn’t enough time.

  He hung somewhere between satisfaction and regret when she came with a keening cry and a rush of energy within a minute or two of starting. Lapping greedily at her arousal he moved away from her pussy to chomp down on the super sensitive fleshy part of her inner thigh.

  Jerking, she cried out for more so he lovingly cleaned her up with his tongue and then rather viciously mauled the other inner thigh.

  “I need you, Brody,” she groaned. Her voice was hoarse but desperate. “Oh god, please.”

  He was one lucky motherfucking son of a goddamn bitch because the universe had seen fit to gift him with a woman capable of multiple orgasms. And if you caught the wave of her response just right, sometimes she surrendered to a relentless tsunami of extended pleasure that was mesmerizing and sexy as fuck.