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  When nobody moved or spoke, she turned to Calder and said, “Maybe that tea would be a good idea now, hmm? Give them a chance to pick their jaws up off the floor.”

  RIDING ALONG IN absolute silence, Alex maneuvered the fancy new Polaris buggy along the access road to Cam and Lacey’s cabin. In the front passenger seat sat his mute and unusually reserved wife. Zeus lay across the back seats, kept safe in the open sided vehicle by a laced-mesh screen covering the blank space.

  They weren’t talking because, in all honesty, neither of them knew what to say.

  Stephanie. Pregnant.

  Calder—a first-time dad.

  Wow.

  And that wasn’t all.

  Tori revealing she was under a doctor’s care for postpartum depression. Her unsettling revelations about the true state of her marriage. Drae being off the radar and seemingly M.I.A.

  Some homecoming.

  Lacey was in a rocker on the front porch with Dylan resting in her arms when they pulled up. Her face split into a wide grin of pure happiness. Meghan was out of the buggy and running toward her before Alex turned off the motor.

  It was a teary but joyful reunion. Dylan, for his part, nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw them. Alex swept the almost one-year-old from his mama’s arms and walked back and forth across the porch engaging in guy chitchat as the ladies did whatever they did.

  “And there were bulls and riders on horses. Lots of flags and trumpets too!” Dylan smacked Alex’s arms as he listened to a detailed account of a bullfight he and Meghan went to in Spain. “Your daddy would love the parade. He’d join right in!”

  “Honey,” he heard his wife call out. “Let’s go inside, okay? It’s too hot out here for Dylan. Lacey says he’s still running a temperature.”

  “Women,” he griped to the attentive baby. “We’re manly men, right, big guy? Not gonna let a little temperature get us down.”

  Lacey was watching them closely, her eyes switching from her son’s face to Alex. He wondered what the hell she was thinking. Kissing his oldest nephew on the cheek, he sidestepped the outstretched arms of the kid’s mother and went reluctantly inside the house.

  “Step aside, Mrs. Cameron,” he joked. “Uncle Alex is back. You have plenty of opportunity to hold this handsome young man. It’s my turn.”

  “He’s missed you. Missed all the brothers,” she murmured with a self-conscious swoop of her head.

  Above all else, Lacey Cameron never showed an inkling of weakness. It was her superpower—that uncanny ability to hang tough and stay the course no matter what life threw her way. But the frightened, lonely lilt in her voice was telling. She was struggling. Jesus Christ. Why wouldn’t she? But the slightest hint of something else was there too. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

  An hour went by as they caught up, passed the baby around, and enjoyed each other’s company. When Dylan went down for a nap, they gathered in the living room to sit and talk. Meghan rummaged around in the kitchen and threw together a tray of ice-filled glasses and a pitcher of mint iced tea. It was one of Cam’s favorite drinks.

  “When was the last time you heard from him?” he asked, patting Zeus’s head as she lay at his feet.

  Lacey said, “Hmm,” and sipped some tea. “Let’s see. Not recently. Not by phone anyway.”

  Her offhand response got his antennae up.

  “What does that mean? Not by phone? Has he hired a plane to do skywriting? What? Tell me what you’re trying so hard not to.”

  “Oh, uh,” she stammered, shocked by his direct line of questioning. “I just meant that he hasn’t called. Not for weeks. Um,” she said again and pushed some stray hair away from her forehead. “But I think he sent a package.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah,” she said with a nod. “I mean it was definitely from him.”

  “What was in this package?”

  Lacey blushed and ducked her head. Frankly, he couldn’t really stop to consider her discomfort and didn’t give a good goddamn if Cam sent a box of dildos. He did this shit for a living. Everything was a clue. Everything. Lacey was going to have to buck up.

  Taking a somewhat different approach, he touched Lacey gently on the arm. “Show me,” he said.

  Quickly going to the built-in cabinets on either side of the massive fireplace, he watched as she reached in and pulled out a mound of stuff. When she brought it to him and set it on the coffee table, he looked at her with warm pride. She’d kept everything. The delivery box. Tissue paper. Paper labels. Everything.

  “You are truly a Justice wife.”

  She smiled at the praise in his words.

  Meghan reached for Lacey’s hand and drew her down on the sofa. “Ya did good,” she assured her.

  Examining the wrapping, he noted several things and asked a question or two. He knew Cam and how his mind worked. Sending an off-the-cuff gift while he was in deep cover wasn’t either normal or his style. There was a message in every shred of paper.

  “Okay. Moving on. Now, what’s in the box?”

  His detective’s eyes noted that Lacey was tracing the tiny scar on her arm. Meghan noticed too because she looked directly at him with both brows raised, making sure he saw what she did.

  With a discernible tremble in her hands, Lacey lifted the lid on the box and set it aside. “Please don’t judge.”

  Not a nosy voyeur by any definition, Alex was surprisingly curious what earned the embarrassment and blushes gripping the youngest of the Justice wives. Imagining all sorts of wild kink of the types so easily accessible in Paris because the shop’s seal indicated it was located in the City of Lights, he expected something raunchy or at the very least risqué. What he got was some delicate tissue paper emblazoned with Paris, France and the shop logo covering a stack of white undies.

  He peeked to one side hoping a cock ring or something appeared but saw nothing. Just a bunch of sensible looking underwear. Alex glanced at Meghan. Her face told him she was thinking similar thoughts.

  Shit. He was going to have to ask. Now, he was embarrassed. What about a stack of white undies led her to be so fucking sure the box was from Cam? He needed the definitive clue. Needed to understand so he could fit all the pieces together. Only then would he know what to do.

  “Ooo-kay,” he said slowly. “Help me out here, Lace. What am I looking at?”

  She grabbed her long ponytail and pulled it over her shoulder, smoothing it with her fingers all the way to the ends. With every second that passed, her cheeks became rosier as the blush deepened and spread down her neck.

  Because he was as big a motherfucker as his two Justice brothers, he momentarily crossed his fingers hoping the dirty secret feeding her blushes was that Cam wore the underwear in question. He knew it was a wild shot, the things were way too small, but a guy could hope, right?

  “We met in a diner. Or actually, Cameron saw me in a diner. I wouldn’t be aware of him until later.”

  “Got it. And?”

  “Oh, and um, well, you see um … it happened like this.”

  Lacey’s stammer was so freaking cute he had to look at his wife and wink.

  “Yeah,” she choked out before clearing her throat. “He, um, he surveilled me.”

  “He what?” Meghan asked.

  “You know,” Lacey answered swiftly. “He did that thing he does. The watching. I guess you could say he spied on me.”

  Alex cut off a chuckle when his wife frowned at him.

  “Anyway,” she continued with a flustered glance in his direction. “I was using the diner’s restroom to, oh god!” she yelped. “This is so embarrassing!”

  “Sweetie,” Meghan cut in. “Guaranteed there’s nothing you could say that Alex or I haven’t heard before. He was military. I taught teenagers. Not a lot of shock value left.”

  With a horrified face, she blurted out, “I was washing my underwear. And Cameron was peeking at me through the door.” Then she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Period sta
ins. That was his first impression of me. Homeless and whining about stains on the first decent pair of panties I’d had in ages.”

  She touched the scar again. “The white panties are his way of telling me he remembered when we met.”

  Bingo! Mystery solved. All the pieces did indeed begin sliding into place only it wasn’t as easy as that. Not when the mystery still looked like a fucking Rubik’s Cube.

  “I need a computer,” he told them.

  “My laptop is in the kitchen,” Lacey offered.

  “No, no. I need Cam’s work computer. I have to log into the agency mainframe.”

  They headed to Cam’s study, and Alex quickly fired up the desktop system Cam had custom pimped with three side-by-side monitors. It was overkill, but hey, to each his own when it came to technology. Knowing Cam, the peripheral views probably enhanced his Waldo skills.

  Entering an encrypted code, he accessed several data files and sent a few official emails. Then he fired up one of his best-kept secrets, a detection program based on custom algorithms only he understood. If he were right, in a couple of hours he’d have Cam’s location. Maybe not his exact GPS coordinates, but damn close.

  “First, I’m going to pin down as much information as I can. And then, I’m going to reach out to the Bureau. Work a few key contacts to see if we can back channel our way into a better understanding of what the fuck is going on.”

  He took Lacey’s hands and squeezed. “You were right, Ponytail. The package was full of clues. The good news is that he was able to send something. Cam knew either Drae or I would do the forensics. I might be going out on a limb but not a short one when I assure you he’s fine. They have him in deep cover, but the package is a message. Hang in there a little while longer. Okay?”

  Not long after, he, Meghan, and Zeus left for home. His wife was looking a bit rough around the edges. It had been a long, emotional day, and they were still on East Coast time. What was the approach of the dinner hour here was still nearly evening for them.

  Turning his attention away from everybody else’s business, he focused solely on her.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he drawled.

  “Does this surprise involve food?”

  “Food first and then a surprise?” He said it like a question in order to get a laugh out of her.

  “Oh god,” she groaned. “What are you up to, Major?”

  “You’ll see,” he taunted with a leering grin.

  “Ria outdid herself. I can’t eat another bite.”

  Meghan pushed her plate away and dropped the napkin over it. She was surprised by how hearty her appetite was and couldn’t remember when she’d eaten so much.

  A loud belch erupted from her stomach and burst into the air. “Oh my god,” she wailed half in embarrassment and half in amusement. “What’s happening to me? Cowgirl boots and now Sonic burps?”

  Her sexy-as-fuck husband snickered. “Ah, the dulcet sound of a well-fed female before being led to her downfall.”

  “Oh! My downfall, is it? Well, hot damn! I was wondering when you were going to stop being a pussy and get serious.”

  Alex’s shocked expression was priceless.

  “Why’s it gotta be this way, woman?” he groused. “Always with the pussy. Hasn’t your husband taught you any manners?”

  “What? No good?” she teased playfully. “But baby, you ARE a pussy. This is a firmly established fact. Everyone knows it and agrees. Glenfiddich is for pussies, and you drink that shit so …” She shrugged. “Pussy.”

  Major Badass tossed his napkin onto the table and stood abruptly. “I don’t think you take me seriously,” he grunted. Grabbing her forearm, he yanked, gently—but still—and pulled her out of the chair. “You need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.”

  It was probably all kinds of wrong that she loved his alpha beastly dominance and giggle-snickered when he started pulling her along as he stormed up the back steps to the family quarters. In the echo chamber of the ancient hidden stairwell, her naughty cackle bounced off every surface.

  He pushed her against the cool stone wall and shoved a sturdy thigh between her legs. Taking both wrists in his one beefy hand, Alex pinned them above her head and put his face an inch from hers. She expected him to ravish her mouth, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared into her eyes while shifting his stance and her weight until she was riding his thigh.

  Without any movement from her, each time he flexed his thigh and raised it a little, she felt a charge of erotic electricity fire off in her core. He held her arms firm, raising them higher until she was helpless, and never stopped staring.

  “Shall I make you come right here, Meghan? You know I could. Look at you trying not to grind on my leg,” he growled so close to her that she felt his hot breath on her skin. Shivering, she couldn’t help the way her pelvis undulated. “I know you, wife.” He told her with bold assurance. “You’re already wet.”

  His face so close to hers, his breath on her skin, the way his knowing eyes bored into hers. She whimpered in response. Heat poured into her center.

  Alex’s earthy grunt let her know he felt it too. Knew what he was doing to her body.

  Pushing back, he put some space between them and gave her a wicked grin. “No. I don’t think just yet. A bit of orgasm denial might tame your obedience issues.”

  Meghan freakin’ loved him when he was like this. It was her alpha Major’s natural state. His masculine vibe and the way he took complete control was enough to make her willingly follow. On her hands and knees, if she must.

  Something about him dragging her along was hot. She felt like a heroine being led to some especially sexy fuckery from one of the erotic romance books she devoured.

  When they reached the top of the stairs, he gave her a forceful shove and gestured with his head for her to walk in front of him.

  “Hands behind your back. Chin up. Shoulders back. Walk with pride, wife. And know your man is behind you, sizing up your ass for his pleasure.”

  Seriously? How the hell did he come up with this stuff? It was a wonder the amount of moisture flooding her panties with every word he uttered didn’t seriously dehydrate her.

  Strutting like the queen of all she surveyed, Meghan gave him the performance he wanted. Rocking and rolling down the hallway, her hips swaying seductively as she led the way, head held high, she knew full well he really was planning his pleasure as she walked.

  Stopping outside the door, she waited obediently for him to wave her into the privacy of their marital bedroom.

  SHE WAS PERFECTION. If he looked up the word in the dictionary, Alex fully expected to find a picture of his wife as she was now. Gloriously naked. Hair spread around her face and shoulders as it clung to the pillow beneath her head.

  Red shibari rope wound around each wrist and held her fast to the sturdy posts of their bed. The same for each ankle. Seeing her spread eagle excited him, with her golden skin and sexy red hair a marked contrast to the bright white linens beneath her.

  Her bewitching green eyes were a smoky jade color. The result of a seductive warm-up that had her moaning with sweet arousal as she twisted and shifted in the restraints.

  Using a long piece of black lace he found in a box of his grandfather’s things, he dragged it across her naked body causing her smooth skin to prickle with awareness. Admittedly, he might be a bit twisted in his thinking, but he liked to imagine one of the Spanish Don’s in his family tree using the same length of handmade lace to excite their woman the same way.

  And his sexy Irish wife loved it. Her response as he wrapped the material around each of her tits and teased the plump mounds until she cried out turned his cock to stone.

  The same when he ran the sexy material between her legs.

  Now, she was a quivering mass of supersensitive nerve endings and heightened arousal. Time for his surprise.

  Leaving her bound to the bed, he casually walked away and left her. From the depths of their dressing closet, he called out. “Hav
e something special for my Fuck Goddess.”

  Quickly disrobing, Alex slid on a pair of old Justice sweats. He’d just as soon be naked, but experience had already proven when he went to town on his wife’s voluptuous body, it was better if his dick wasn’t in the way. Digging through the duffel bag Ben had brought by earlier, he found his flogger and something new. Something unexpected he found on the spur of the moment when he took an expensive stroll through a D.C. sex shop.

  When he went back to the bedroom, he paused in the doorway for a minute to enjoy the scene. Tying one’s wife to the bed might not be a mainstream activity, but he and his lovely bride enjoyed and indulged in it frequently. At the beginning of the relationship, he struggled a bit with where some of his heavy-handed passions led them, afraid he was more beast than gentleman at times.

  But his wife was a willing participant. Not only that, the depth of communication they shared through these kinky activities opened his eyes to what all his dominance and thundering sex drive was like on the other end.

  Meghan needed the surrender. She needed him to dominate her. Through lots of trial and error, he’d discovered that when she was his willing submissive, her mind calmed and anything causing an imbalance simply ceased to exist. That sort of domination and response was a powerful thing. Something he respected and cherished because it was Meghan and because he knew her response was for him. And him alone.

  “Keep those knees wide, baby,” he growled from his spot leaning in the archway. “Show me what’s mine.”

  He approached her from the end of the bed, running his fingers from the ticklish sole of her foot up her calf and to the top of her thigh, moving slowly up her body till he encountered a tightly puckered nipple.

  He smiled.

  Dropping the flogger to the floor, he watched her react to the heavy thud. It was a familiar sound. She whimpered sexily when she heard it, knowing what was to come.

  Or so she thought.

  “This surprise,” he told her with some well-placed teasing, “is also a gift.”

  Taking the purple tissue paper folded into a neat pouch, he laid it on her stomach, crossed his arms and stood back to leer at her.