Redeeming Justice Page 18

  She was surprised when after a bit she felt a cold, wet nose nudge her leg. Opening her eyes she found Zeus standing by the lounger, tongue hanging out and a goofy dog expression on her face. Looking about, she expected to see Alex somewhere in the vicinity, but he never materialized.

  “Where’s daddy?” she asked, scratching the dogs head and kissing her on the snout.

  Zeus’s response was a wet lick and a raised paw as she basked under the attentive strokes. Apparently she was on her own this morning, much to Meghan’s disappointment. Hmm. He was probably working in the bat cave, she concluded, and went back to her early morning sun worshipping. Soon it would be too hot for her pale skin so she had to take advantage of the early rays while she could.

  Not too long after that Tori appeared near the cabana and called out, “Hey! Irish. Time to get your ass out of the sun unless you want to look like a tomato later. Grab your stuff and come on inside. A package was just delivered for you.”

  A package? What in the world was that all about? Well, she better go and see, so Meghan gathered her big sun hat and flip flops, slid on a cute cover-up, and headed back to the house – patting her leg in command so Zeus would follow.

  When she stepped into the kitchen, there was the usual bustle of activity. Alex had been so right about the space being the heart of his home. Carmen was there along with Gus who looked awfully smitten with the feisty housekeeper. Betty was there too – grabbing a jug of cold drinks from the fridge and the whole crew along with Tori were talking over each other as several conversations seemed to be going on at once.

  The minute she appeared, Tori jumped off the stool she’d been sitting on and grabbed something from the counter.

  “FedEx delivered this for you,” she told her handing over a long box that looked big enough to hold a fishing rod.

  “I didn’t order anything,” Meghan mumbled, confused. Intrigued, she checked the delivery label and sure enough – it was addressed to her. Hmmmm.

  Ripping open the packaging as everyone gathered around, she found a shipping document that indicated whatever was in the box was a gift but no other details were available except for a short notation in the message box.

  It read: Parasol / ‘par e sôl / noun / A light umbrella to give shade from the sun. She almost choked with delight.

  Reaching into the box she pulled out a fantastic antique lace parasol with a wooden handle that was exactly what she would have ordered had she seen it herself. It was charming, feminine, and really, really pretty.

  “What is that?” Carmen asked. “An umbrella? What do you need an umbrella for in the middle of the desert?”

  Meghan grinned so wide her face almost hurt. “It’s called a parasol, actually. An umbrella, but not. Think of it more like protection from the sun rather than from falling raindrops.”

  She caught Tori’s eye, who was nodding with a smug expression on her face and looking at her like she’d just pulled the Hope Diamond from the box.

  Alex. The Major. Mister Thunder. Meghan was bursting with delight.

  “Where is he?” she asked Tori.

  “Ah, yes. About that. He’s off the radar today.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  Tori looked like she was considering what to say next. At the question, everyone else in the vicinity melted away. What the hell?

  “He’s having a bad day, Irish.”

  Meghan stiffened trying to read between the lines and failed miserably. “C’mon Mrs. St. John. I’m a teacher for Christ’s sake. Don’t play the dog ate my homework word games with me.”

  Tori laughed. “I like you, lady!” she trilled. “No pussyfooting around. You’re good for him.”

  “Uh huh. Whatever. Now answer the damn question.”

  “Around here, bad day is a euphemism for he’s probably doubled over in pain and hiding away in a darkened room until it passes. He hates bringing attention to himself that way so we’ve all learned to talk in code.”

  The other woman was watching her intently, gauging how she would react to this news. Her protective manner warmed Meghan’s heart. Not only did good people who genuinely cared about him surround Alex, Tori’s instincts drove home what a fantastic mother she would be.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how unmanageable is he when this happens?” she inquired as her brain started working overtime on how she could help.

  “This one is off the scale, I’m afraid. Personally, I think he should eat some pain pills and sleep if off but he refuses. Between you and me – it’s a combination of powering through and the belief that his physical issues are some sort of penance. Catch my meaning?”

  “Understood,” Meghan answered as she turned to leave. Grabbing her cell phone at the last second she added, “Give me your digits so I can text you if help is needed.”

  Alex was in agony. Dark, searing agony. Pain like he hadn’t experienced in a long time was wracking his body and battering his soul. Up half the night, he wondered a few times if he was gonna make it – it was that bad.

  It did not take a room full of doctors and therapists to tell him what was wrong. It had been ages since he’d put his leg through the hell of a drum session that went on far longer than he could realistically handle. Last night it had been a question of getting through it. In the harsh light of day, he had a whole different outlook.

  His back, hip, and leg were in full on spasm. As a result his head was thumping out of control and his unaffected side was tight as could be from overcompensating for the injured half. In short – he could barely move. Balls.

  It had been worth it even though at the time he’d been a complete douche about playing with his old band. Watching Meghan party her glorious ass off on the dance floor had been pure heaven. That woman knew how to shimmy and shake like a pro. He supposed it was the gym teacher in her soul. She loved being active, that much was clear.

  And then there was what happened after. All through the long, painful night, there had been the memories of her sucking on his dick and the incredible sensation of her hot, wet cunt squeezing the fucking come out of him that helped him manage his torment.

  But it was late morning now and instead of backing off, his suffering only seemed to be getting worse. Last night his foot had gone numb. Today it felt like someone was sticking needles in it while hot pokers jabbed him all along his left side.

  Wearing nothing but the smallest briefs he had, Alex was slumped in a big easy chair as sweat covered him like a second skin. It hurt to have anything on his body, touching his enflamed scars, and in another minute or so he was going to chuck the briefs too. Anything to find even a second of relief.

  His phone buzzed alerting him to an incoming message. Thankful for the distraction he opened the text box and stopped dead.

  Warning, Will Robinson. I’m coming in.

  What the fuck? Five seconds later he looked up and found Meghan standing by the doorway with a cool, assessing expression on her face.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he grumbled.

  “Says you and what army? Shut up Major and let me have a good look at you.”

  “Seriously Meghan, get the fuck out of here. You don’t know. You just don’t know.”

  She snorted at his comment and moved deeper into his room. “Let me take this moment to remind your sorry ass that this is what I’m trained for.”

  He felt like she was giving him an eyeball MRI. Talk about an odd feeling. She looked him over, head to toe, and if he wasn’t mistaken she zeroed in, time and again, on all the trouble spots.

  “You look like shit, baby,” she husked.

  God. He loved it when she called him baby. For a big, burly dude, he had a marshmallow core when it came to this woman.

  Sighing, he scraped his hands along his skull, tugging at his hair. “Yeah. And I feel like shit too.”

  Why was it that just when he felt like nothing could surprise him she went and did just that, surprised him. She knelt down at his feet facing him on his good side a
nd put her palm upon his thigh. It was an innocent move but seeing Meghan on her knees and the way she was looking at him, ramped up every dominant impulse in his pain wracked body. Did she know how provocative her choice of positions was?

  “I can help but you have to trust me, Alex.”

  “Unless you have a magic wand, I’m not sure what anyone could possibly do. It’s just a matter of riding it out until the pain passes.” His voice didn’t sound all that convincing, even to him.

  “Well, it’s your lucky day, really.” Pulling out her cell phone she tapped on the screen and rose to her feet. “I’m a licensed massage therapist and as it happens, I have a brand new portable therapy table in my car that I picked up in L.A. It would be my pleasure to break it in by working on you.”

  He couldn’t help the grimace that crossed his face. The idea of being touched in the state he was in didn’t sound all that appealing.

  She was watching him closely. “Baby, you have to trust me, okay?”

  “Who are you texting,” he asked, dodging the question.

  “I’m having Tori send one of the guys to my car to get the table and bring it up here.”

  Growling like an animal in pain he bit out, “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

  She was on her knees again in a hurry so she could look him directly in the eye without him having to arch his neck to see her. “You didn’t even have to say that. Don’t worry. They’ll leave it in the hallway for me. I’m gonna go put on some clothes and grab some things I need. If you think you’re up to it, make sure your bladder is empty and lose the briefs. Wrap a towel around your waist and don’t do anything dumb while I’m gone.”

  He really must be out of his mind with pain because he realized she was in a bathing suit and cover-up only when she said something about getting changed.

  “Alex,” she said. “Look at me.”

  He did and almost lost his way in her amazing green eyes.

  “I do this for a living. If I didn’t think a massage would help, I wouldn’t suggest it.”

  She didn’t wait for his reaction, just leaned in, kissed him on the forehead, then rose and hurried from his room, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

  They turned out to be the longest minutes of his life. Stumbling to the bathroom he’d done as she said and returned to the bedroom with only a towel slung low on his hips. Even that hurt like fucking hell where it came into contact with his spasming muscles and tingling scars.

  She returned ten minutes later dressed in a plain t-shirt and a simple skirt made of stretchy material that molded to her curves like a second skin.

  It only took a few minutes for her to set up the massage table and lay out her supplies.

  With hands resting on her hips she assessed him. “Think you can get onto the table, stomach down, or do you need my help? Oh, and by the way, undo the towel. I want it loose so all it does is drape.”

  It took every once of strength Alex had to move onto the table while she busied herself with other things. He heard the light strains of music from the iPhone she’d plugged into his stereo dock as he tried to relax. She showed him how to lay his arms on a padded rest underneath the table and from the unusual position with his head in a padded oval and his shoulders relaxed, he felt some of the strain leave his upper body.

  He didn’t know how long he lay there but once her hands started gliding across his skin, he went somewhere in his mind. Someplace peaceful and calm. Starting on his neck she kneaded, stroked, and prodded in all the right places as sweet relief started coursing through his body. She was using some kind of oil that felt like liquid velvet, adding to the sensory experience.

  The warmth of her hands was like heaven and everywhere her skilled touch focused, his body relaxed and gave up the pain, little by little. She was working on his lower back along his hip, having discreetly moved the towel to expose one butt cheek when he felt her fingers press and rotate on a spot that exploded in pain, followed a heartbeat later by a flood of relief that made him groan.

  It was like she’d flipped a switch. One minute he was in agony body and soul, and the next…it was gone. The sudden alleviation of suffering made Alex overly emotional. His body quivered slightly, and he had to shut his eyes to bring himself back under control.

  Her magic touch continued down his leg and then began all over again on the other side – his damaged side – starting at his neck and moving slowly downward. No longer tense and filled with burning pain, he relaxed under her hands and gave himself up to her entirely.

  She flipped that same switch on the other side and suddenly Alex felt like jumping off the table and going for a run. Something he hadn’t been able to do for a very long time. When she told him to turn over, he moved without an awareness of pain for the first time in forever.

  The next twenty minutes passed in a blur of contentment. Her touch. The music playing. The oil gliding on his skin wherever she put her hands.

  When she was finished, she covered him with a big body towel and told him to lay there while she cleaned up.

  He heard her in the bathroom, washing up, and felt his awareness level increase until he swore time slowed down. Returning to his side, she pushed an errant lock of hair off his face as his eyes snapped open and held her in place. Grabbing her hand he told her, “If you ever use your hands on anyone else quite like that, I’ll have to kill them.”

  She looked shell shocked by the comment. He meant every word but it probably came out all wrong.

  Meghan was totally undone by the territorial vibe in Alex’s voice. “If you ever use your hands on anyone else quite like that, I’ll have to kill them.” Whoa. That sounded more than a little serious.

  How could she tell him she’d never experienced anything like what had just passed between them? Desperate to ease his suffering she’d focused the healing power of her hands to draw the pain from his body and infuse him with her love and affection as an exchange of energy took place. Shit. She’d fallen for him so completely that she didn’t know which revelation rocked her world more; knowing how she felt or hearing the power of possession in his words.

  “Can you get up?” she asked. “Swing your legs off the table slowly, and I’ll help you stand.”

  Tossing the towel off, Alex sat up swiftly, flexing his shoulders and arching his back.

  “My God, Meghan. What you did. I can’t thank you enough sweetheart.”

  She beamed at him, thrilled to learn he was feeling better. “I’m glad I could help,” she murmured, unsure of herself now that she understood her feelings.

  Meghan admired his impressive physique as he climbed off the table and headed for the easy chair. He was completely naked and seemingly unconcerned about his state of undress. From behind he looked like one of those drool-worthy models in a magazine. Broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist and an ass that would make a saint blush. It was the front view however that melted her brain into her panties.

  There wasn’t any use in pretending she saw anything at all except his impressive cock as it rose from a thatch of dark hair swaying proudly with each movement. What she wanted to do to him just then gave new meaning to the expression happy ending.

  He saw where she was looking and leered at her with a knowing smirk that set her senses on fire.

  “That’s all you, y’know,” he told her pointing at his erection. It was the same expression she’d used last night when he found her wet and ready for him.

  She blushed and shrugged, quickly saying, “It’s just a physiological reaction to the massage.”

  “It so is fucking not, baby. Come here,” he told her with a hand stretched in her direction.

  Meghan hesitated. The professional knew she should back off but the woman wanted nothing more than to sink to her knees and explore him with her hands and mouth.

  The woman won out. Going to him she slid gracefully to her knees between his spread thighs and watched his face, biting her damn lip the whole time. She f
elt stupid and inexperienced, not knowing what to do next. Or first. Or second.

  She’d put her hair up in a clip for the massage so it didn’t get in her way but he quickly made short work of taking it out as her long curls tumbled across her shoulders.

  “I love your hair,” he murmured. A distinct huskiness to his voice.

  There was no way he didn’t sense her frustration at being so completely without game when it came to pleasing him this way. She was way too old to be such a novice yet somehow the knowledge that she’d never indulged her carnal desires this way with anyone else made it so very special.

  He smiled that devilishly wicked smile that turned her to jelly. “Want to claim your reward, baby?”

  Meghan nodded her head enthusiastically and eyed his hardness.

  He laughed and said, “Class is in session Miss O’Brien.”

  Gripping the base of his cock he held it close to her mouth, “Just relax, and do whatever feels good to you.”

  She looked at him like he was crazy. Wasn’t she supposed to be making him feel good?

  He read her thoughts and said, “Honey, there’s nothing sexier for a man than watching his woman enjoy his body. Whatever way she wants. There’s no pre-set agenda.”

  “But I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  His nostrils flared at her admission and heat from his eyes seared her skin. “Your innocence excites me. I can smell your desire. Would it help if I told you what I’d like? Full on? No holding back?”

  Nodding, she searched his face for assurance and felt a surge of confidence invade her senses when he looked back at her with such desire she sucked in a quick breath.

  “First. This isn’t a challenge. You only do what feels good to you, okay?”

  He was stroking his hard shaft, hypnotizing her with each movement of his hand.