Everlasting (Family Justice Book 6) Read online

  “That doesn’t change the fact that, at the time, I took advantage.”

  “I liked it. You know that.”

  “You were too young, and I got what I deserved.”

  She didn’t want to dwell on the past. What he’d reminded her of about the way their relationship had always gone gave her a sense of calm assurance she didn’t realize had been lacking. So she picked a different feeling to share.

  A question sprang to life in her mind. “How long have you had the gold collar?”

  “A while.”

  Processing what that meant, she murmured, “I love it. Thank you.”

  “Nobody sees the collar but me. Understand?”

  “But,” she started to protest.

  “That wasn’t a request, Angel. Don’t make me say it again.”

  Aw, shit. That totally sucked. She pouted and took back her hand, forcing a sliver of space between them. He laughed and swatted her butt.

  “I know you so fucking well, Angelina.” His sexy growl did dangerous things to her insides.

  Vaulting over her, he landed on his feet next to the bed and swaggered into the adjoining dressing room and closet. Curious as to what he was up to, she sat up, scooted against the headboard, and drew the covers over her breasts.

  When he swaggered back into the room, she had a hard time ignoring the hefty sway of his manly cock. She loved watching him walk when he was naked.

  He stopped next to her, threw an edge of the covers back, and grabbed her ankle. Caught off guard, she howled her surprise and squirmed in his unrelenting grasp. “Hold still,” he demanded.

  “You made my life a living hell, Angel.”

  Her eyes went wide, and her mouth opened on an unspoken What?

  “All that bullshit about wearing my ring. Made me beg. In public!”

  She squirmed in earnest, remembering what a complete bitch she’d been.

  “But then, what do you do when you find out your pretty new sub collar is off-limits outside the playroom? You pout like a baby.”

  There was no defense. He was right. “But I like it, Parker. I like what it means.”

  His expression of sexy triumph made her look at him twice. “Again, Angel. Why the surprise? Think about it. You admitted to feeling trapped into wearing a ring but a symbol of my dominance and your loving submission? That you liked.”

  She saw what he was saying and shuddered head to toe.

  He took her foot and placed it in the middle of his stomach. “Hold that here.” From a pouch scrunched up in his hand, he withdrew a delicate gold anklet that was an exact replica, in miniature, of her collar right down to the tiny locking heart.

  “As I was saying, baby girl, I know you well.” He wrapped the sexy jewelry around her ankle and snapped the locking heart shut with a decisive click. “There.” He lifted her foot and kissed it. “Feel better now?”

  Two seconds later, she was on him, clutching his neck and shoulders, kissing his face and wrapping her legs strongly around his waist.

  “Can I wear it all the time?” she asked breathlessly between frantic nips, licks, and kisses.

  “I have the key,” he announced with lawyer cockiness. “There’s a price to be paid if you want me to unlock it.”

  It’d be a cold day in hell before … oh, wait. “So let’s say for example when I go for a pedicure. If I pay the price, you’ll remove it?”

  “Something like that.” He chuckled.

  “And then you’ll put it back on?”

  He gave her a mocking leer. “You’ll have to convince me.”

  Well, hot fucking damn! This would work out great. It was like scheduling wickedness. Need a polish change or a spa pedicure? Better be sure to clear her schedule and pencil in some extra kinky fuckery.

  Laughing merrily, she threw back her head. “Can we start now?”

  His amused snicker skittered across her nerves. “You want more? Really?”

  She leaned close and clutched his shoulders. Sucking on his earlobe, she ended with a sharp bite. “What can I say?” she drawled. “You give good jewelry.”

  He somehow managed to swat her butt again, and the next thing she knew, he’d pulled her from his waist and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Striding with confidence, he marched them from the bedroom straight to the playroom and dropped her to her knees on the floor.

  “Ass up, baby girl. If it’s jewelry you respond to, then I want your tight little ass plugged with something pretty.”

  He left her and went to the drawer where he picked through the amassed assortment of butt plugs.

  “Blue to match my Angel’s pretty eyes,” he said as he showed her the small device.

  She wiggled her ass and giggled.

  He threw back his head and had a great laugh.

  After swatting her butt, he bit one fleshy globe. “Yeah, babe. I think you can cross a line through surprise.”

  And so began the saga of Parker Sullivan, beast Dominant, and his willing submissive, Angelina Marquez. To have this issue settled before they became husband and wife overjoyed her.

  As she felt a cold dribble of lubricant hit her butt followed by his manly fingers teasing her flesh, she closed her eyes and sighed. It was all coming together perfectly. She belonged to him, body and soul. He denied her nothing. The future looked perfect.

  14

  Plopped on the floor and leaning on a hand as he bent over a schematic of directions, Alex’s sounds were music to Meghan’s ears. She loved it when her beast was flustered or annoyed because he was so damn adorable if something, anything—flew right over his head.

  Today the over flight came courtesy of a self-rocking bassinet—baby equipment she knew damn well they’d never use. But that didn’t stop him from getting two.

  Putting them together, however, was proving to be more involved than the construction of the Titanic.

  Her perplexed husband was mumbling and pushing piles of teeny tiny pieces around on the carpet of the twins’ nursery.

  Seriously, she thought with a grin. Could he be any cuter?

  Gently rocking in the comfy extra-wide glider, she rubbed her belly and observed her deliciously hunky husband at work. Nobody did absent-minded professor better than he did. In fact, she was fairly certain he was destined to play that role.

  She glanced at her bump and wondered if one or both of their twins would be next-generation nerds. The thought was so funny that she choke-coughed a giggle. He looked at her and did his usual head-to-toe evaluation. If she sighed oddly or fidgeted—whatever—his attention shifted to her like a hound dog catching a scent.

  Feeling useless was driving her Major crazy and him being out of his comfort zone made her unhinged. Ah, yes, she thought with a sigh. Maybe she should write a book—Pregnant by an Alpha.

  Pushing off from the chair, she stood, caught her breath, and walked over to him. His clueless expression and mussed appearance were wreaking havoc with her raging sex drive.

  Didn’t he know how tightly wound she was when he looked like he did? The urge to do all sorts of dirty, inappropriate things on the floor of her unborn children’s bedroom was hard to rein in.

  Shit.

  Running her fingers through his messy mane of unstyled hair, she gave a little tug and winked. “I’m going to go grab a cookie bar. Do you want anything from the kitchen?”

  At her mention of food and the kitchen, he was ready to abandon the construction project and started to get up. She pressed a hand on his shoulder and made him stay.

  Feeling useless nipped at Alex’s heels twenty-four seven. At the drop of a dime, he was ready and willing to walk naked and barefoot across the scorching desert floor to deliver a cone of her favorite vanilla ice cream from the shop she and her dad went to in Boston. In fact, he was nearly desperate for tasks and drove her nuts with his constant offers to get, do, or say anything her heart desired.

  Her poor beastly alpha was having one hell of a hard time being the guy on the sidelines while
she carried and birthed two baby humans. His baby humans.

  On top of that was the whole weight issue. She wasn’t gaining the way she should. Jesus. What a change from every damn day of her life before getting pregnant.

  The babies were fine, and by all the usual prenatal standards, they were growing as expected. Somehow or another, though, as they got bigger, she lost ground. Having no appetite didn’t help, so she struggled to eat more but wasn’t having much luck. Indicating munchies were on the agenda meant he was ready to serve a four-course meal.

  “Relax, baby. I’ve got this. You worry about your project.”

  He didn’t appear convinced. She put her hand near his throat and undid two buttons on his shirt. Sighing contentedly, her fingers slid against his skin and disappeared for a few seconds inside the shirt. Scraping her fingernails on a nipple, she enjoyed the feel of his manly chest and purred.

  “There,” she said with a smirk. “I like the chest hair look.”

  His brows bumped together—he blinked—and did a double take.

  Yep, yep, yep. Her poor beast. Utterly and completely without a clue.

  She bent down and kissed him. “BRB, okay?”

  As she exited, Meghan was sure she heard him murmur, “Yeah, I never stood a chance.”

  With a big grin on her face, she headed for the kitchen.

  Following her delicious tongue exploration of his mouth, Alex watched his wife’s fabulous ass as she sashayed from the nursery with what he was sure was a deliberate wiggle.

  He shook his head and murmured, “Yeah, I never stood a chance.”

  And thank god too. Over the course of his life, he’d become sure of any number of things. The love of his parents. The importance of honor and duty. All sorts of sure things like that.

  But when Meghan happened, he added something new to the list. When an alpha found its mate, everything changed. Darkness turned to light, and things that once made no sense suddenly and irrevocably meant everything.

  Her swinging ass and the twinkle from her happy smile were two such things. Hidden beneath her clothes where only he could see, the Valleja-Marquez tattoo on her bodacious ass, inked as a sort of ownership brand, just made it that much better.

  But salivating over his wife’s ass wasn’t getting these goddamn rocking things built.

  He squirmed around a bit until he could pull the phone from his pocket. Sometimes, you had to know when to throw in the towel. Or delegate, as he liked to think of it.

  Texting Parker, he pulled the ultimate in dick moves and dumped it in his lap. A couple of minutes later, he was standing by the window looking out over the view his babies would see when his phone vibrated to indicate his friend’s answer. Typical Parker. With the finger emoji.

  Alex smiled and checked his watch. How long, he thought with droll amusement. Maybe an hour? It would take about that long for either Parker or Uncle Matt to pick up his dad and arrive at the Villa.

  How was he sure Uncle Matt would be involved? Because no way would his Rube Goldberg-loving uncle miss a chance to partner with Cristián Marquez to lord it over Alex. Those two found little funnier than the times when, despite his superior intellect, he sucked balls at following some idiot developer’s instructions. Last week, they came by to demonstrate how to open and lock the stupid foldable baby stroller that came with directions written in German. And laughed in his face the whole time.

  What wasn’t there to love about his quirky family?

  A lemon cookie bar or one of Carmen’s yummy custards?

  Hmmm. Meghan tapped a finger on her chin as she contemplated the available options.

  The custard would involve a spoon, but all she was after was a quick nosh, so she opted for the gooey lemon bar, took a bite, and dropped the rest on a napkin. Remembering the emails that had to be answered for the family center, she headed to her cozy office behind the back stairs. It would only take a few minutes to get some business out of the way.

  The odd-shaped little room with no purpose had been transformed into a home office where she could keep tabs on the Double M and organize the busy schedule she kept as the wife of a Valleja-Marquez.

  Meghan treasured everything about her life.

  She loved being married.

  Loved being pregnant.

  Loved being a wife.

  Loved the cachet of her role as the spouse of a Spanish Don.

  Loved being at Alex’s side.

  Hell—she even practiced her signature. Meghan Marquez. Meghan Valleja-Marquez. Meghan Elizabeth O’Brien Valleja-Marquez.

  Life was damn good. She just loved, loved, loved the whole thing.

  Gingerly lowering onto the rolling chair at her corner desk, she scooted around till she was comfy. The first thing she did was answer Sophie’s email about the spring fling for the family center. Taking another bit of the gooey lemon bar, she licked her fingers and composed a reply.

  Her other sister-in-law was turning out to be one hell of a powerhouse. Not that she should be all that surprised. Alex was a rule unto himself, and Angie rocked like a hurricane on her off days, so why the hell not with Sophia?

  The woman had organizational skills and a head for business details that made Meghan feel like some rich dude’s wife having a little go at being a do-gooder. Just because the family center was her idea didn’t mean she had clue one about how to run it.

  From practically the second it opened, the Double M met and exceeded their most pie-in-the-sky expectations. Her little sanctuary for kids and families with a heavy emphasis on military outreach turned into a mega-important community-based organization that suddenly became the go-to for a ton of things. They didn’t just do programming. The resource and referral angle morphed into a major deal overnight.

  Changes were needed. Fast, smart, forward-thinking changes. Lately, she’d been feeling out Sophie to see if she had any interest in taking on a formal role. Every day, the idea seemed better and better. The only thing holding her back was the fact that Sophie was coming to the end of a pregnancy, so maybe working wasn’t high on her agenda.

  And then there was Heather. Just thinking about the feisty lady made her smile. Not only was Heather Clarke a true original, but she also made Brody deliriously happy and had transformed sweet baby Bella Mia from a confused, bedraggled child into a confident, kickass kindergartener. They could all take a lesson from Heather in how to get shit done because not only did she make a total life change by coming to Arizona, but she’d also taken on the dual role of mother-slash-live-in girlfriend and wrestled it to the ground like a boss.

  Heather was also wavering and on the fence about her vital role at the family center. Right before Calder and Stephanie’s wedding, she had shifted most of her day-to-day responsibilities for the counseling services and classes under her control to her able assistant, Diane.

  Lacey too had taken several large steps back and for good reason. Baby girl Cameron wasn’t proving to be an easy pregnancy, and she’d reluctantly cut back on everything except what was happening under her own roof. She’d even pushed off the final semester of her college courses. Getting a degree in Early Childhood Education was still important, but Lacey’s health and family came first.

  That pretty much left Victoria shouldering more than a lioness’s share of the workload. She was doing double duty too—juggling Alex’s foibles as his assistant while keeping the Double M on track.

  Yeah. It was time to speak with Sophie. Perhaps, she could look at things and suggest ways to manage before things turned to chaos. A bunch of pregnant women trying to build, develop, and then open a community center? Sheer lunacy. They needed help before they petered out and it affected the center.

  She didn’t hear yelling from upstairs or seen any bassinets flying out a window, so when business was accomplished, she clicked on her Pinterest page and scrolled to the parties and celebrations board. Her in-laws had a wedding anniversary coming up, and at her insistence, she and Alex were planning a low-key celebration.
/>   Talking it over with Carmen had led to an eye-opening revelation about Cristián and Ashleigh that put Meghan on the floor with laughter. Alex would turn thirty-nine in June. Right around the twins’ due date.

  February second marked Cris and Ash’s thirty-ninth anniversary. Do the math!

  Carmen wasn’t much help with anything other than the facts. She was younger and having her own life challenges at the time, so all she could offer was a blanket assessment of how Alex’s parents and grandfather reacted to a very pregnant California blonde with hippy overtones dragging her feet about marrying into the family. At the time, Ed was already making priesthood noises, so that only left Cristián to continue the family line. The last thing the aging Valleja-Marquez Don ever expected was for his grandson to be a free spirit.

  Knowing Wendy and Matt had towed the socially correct line and married before Parker made his debut made the whole story deliciously funny. Especially since she imagined Cristián hauling Ashleigh over his shoulder, swatting her butt, and dragging her off to a Justice of the Peace.

  Finding what she was looking for, she jotted down a few quick notes and shut down the computer. She’d wasted enough time and had better hurry upstairs to check on Alex’s progress—or lack thereof.

  Spying her photography equipment on the way from the room, she picked up the digital camera and checked the battery charge. There was plenty of space on the removable card after she’d uploaded a ton of pictures from the wedding, so she thought it would be fun to add some candid shots of Alex to her baby bump scrapbook.

  In the short hallway between her cubbyhole office and the big kitchen, Meghan slowed her steps when a sound caught her attention. Listening carefully, she stood still and waited. There it was again! Like a muffled rustling.

  What the hell? She waited to hear something again, so she could pinpoint where the noise came from when a random thought occurred.

  Oh, hey. Hold up. Maybe Zeus got stuck in the pantry again.

  Smiling and shaking her head over the trials and tribulations of canine ownership, she put her hand on the iron knob of the pantry door and started to pull.