Dear Bella: A Family Justice Novella Page 5

  “Ah, shugah. What I need and what I am so lucky to have are sometimes very different things. Look around you. When I asked for a craft space my love, I envisioned a little corner and a couple of rolling carts that were easily stashed out of sight. Not the second floor of a big garage sporting built-ins and every conceivable Martha Stewart equipment and accessory on the market.”

  “And a few that aren’t,” he replied smoothly. “I hope the hand written note from Martha and an invitation to visit Skylands next time we’re in Maine scored me extra points.”

  This man! As if he needed extra points. That didn’t mean she had to make it easy. With a peeved frown she rubbed her belly on his. “I don’t know how I feel about you being all chummy and what not with her.”

  “You didn’t flinch when Garth stopped by.”

  “Yes, well, Garth wasn’t sizing you up for a mattress session.”

  He laughed. “Is that your way of saying you think Martha has a bad girl side?”

  “Oh lawd, shugah! Every lady has an inner bad girl. Martha’s is just craftier and shows up with a home baked pie.”

  He kissed her long, deep and slow. She sighed happily when the kiss ended.

  “Junior is awake,” her hunky fiancé chuckled. Caressing the bump where their baby currently resided, she laughed too and ruffled his hair.

  “Felt that did you?”

  His grin was big enough to be seen from space. She sheeshed him with a comical head shake.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said with dry mockery. “You big and bad.”

  His snickering, enthusiastic, ‘fuck-yeah’ head nod was adorable. “I fucked a baby into you.”

  Feigning outrage at his crude words, she reared back and gasped. “Is that how you’d talk to Martha? Fucked a baby into me? Really Calder?”

  “Hey,” he crowed. “I have a reputation to uphold. Don’t want anyone thinking that’s a Viagra baby.”

  “Oh dear god,” she cried with laughter. “Is that actually a thing? Viagra babies?”

  He laughed, kissed her nose and moved out of her embrace. “Fuck if I know. Make a lot of this shit up as I go along.” Gesturing at the bags tossed on the worktable he asked again, “Now tell me what all this is for.”

  Over the next half hour, she went into great detail about Project Red Suit and explained why this was so important to Bella. Calder adored the little girl. Hell. All the men did. She and the other women snickered quite often about it too because the precocious kindergartner had a real talent for snapping her fingers and getting the Justice crew involved in all sorts of things. In a way, she was showing all the big girls how to rock and roll.

  “So let me see if I have this right.”

  Stephanie gathered a rainbow of colored gel pens that scattered across the table and looked up. It was all sorts of cute to watch the pieces fall into place in his mind. For such a serious thinker, sometimes the little things completely baffled her man.

  “You’re staging a Christmas scene with all this stuff.”

  He picked up the gold-rimmed spectacles and white gloves and moved them next to the realistic Santa hat.

  “That’s right,” she said.

  Holding a piece of bright red cardstock, he asked for clarification about a particular part of the process.

  “And because Bella is smarter than all of us lumped together, you’re sending our house designer’s girlfriend a script and these cards so she can write a letter to Bella from Santa.”

  “You know damn well she’d recognize the handwriting if any of us did the actual writing. Charlize is the obvious solution. And because she’s an artist, Bella will get all the flourishes and curly-cues you’d expect in a letter from the North Pole.”

  “What’s the point of the picture?”

  “That’s where you come in, Thor.”

  He groaned at the reminder of Bella’s hilarious imagination where he was concerned.

  “When Charlize sends the card back, you’re going to put on the gloves and the Santa cuffs and pose like you’re writing.”

  “And you expect Bella Jensen to believe it’s a picture of Santa writing to her?”

  “She’s six Calder.”

  He snorted. “You’ve met her, right?”

  “I think it’s a brilliant plan.” She rubbed her belly and tried not to glare at him for being an asshat. “Watch it, Moondoggie,” she mumbled. “You’re starting to piss me off.”

  “Now, now, come on,” Calder laughed. “You promised to grade me on a curve. Do not have a lot of experience with women and in particular little girls. You’re gonna have to spell this one out. Sorry.”

  If he wasn’t so frickin’ hot and adorable…

  “Pay attention or I’ll have to hurt you.”

  He went stone-faced and gave her the thumbs up as though somehow that meant he was being in any way serious.

  “Bella has an ax to grind with the man in the red suit. If I had to guess, it seems to me poor Santa bears the brunt and represents the trauma she endured. It’s not like she can rip her biological mother’s head off for her part in what happened and somebody has to be the bad guy.”

  “She had a tough time…”

  They both showed surprise at her swift, harsh reaction. “Calder. She lived like an animal. It’s a miracle the child can talk and function at all. Who does that to an innocent kid?”

  “Brody said she harps about being forgotten. What you say is right on, Duchess. I see why she’s confused. And hurting.”

  “They tried everything to get her to soften but she’s immoveable. Christmas isn’t the problem—Santa is. Heather feels Bella will never more forward until this last cruel hurt is taken apart and replaced with something else. Something positive and forward-looking.”

  “Is this note from Santa part of an apology tour?”

  “I would say so,” she answered with a sigh.

  “Covert shit is fun,” he snickered. “Better light a fire then, darlin’ cause time’s a wasting and Christmas gets closer every day. Project Red Suit is top priority!”

  Framing her bump with both hands she gave him a contented smile. “Next year we’ll be a family of three.”

  He stepped up and lovingly stroked her belly. “And next year baby Dane will have his or her name on Santa’s list. Wow.”

  She heard the wonder and awe in his voice and loved him with all her heart.

  “Three stockings to hang on the mantle.” His husky murmur triggered a tingling response inside her.

  “Take that, Martha!” she hooted. “Christmas for three—now that’s what I call a very good thing.”

  “Are we finished here Duchess?”

  “Why? What’s up?”

  “I’m taking you to dinner,” he proudly exclaimed. “My ego needs stroking and you know what that means. Time to drag my sexy lady out in public. Show everyone what they’re missing. What’s mine.”

  She loved the possessive quality in his voice.

  “Dress code?” she inquired sweetly. “And if you say casual and we end up at Pete’s you can sleep in the den tonight.”

  Scoffing harshly, he took her arm and moved them to the stairs. “I said dinner. Not bar food.”

  Oh snap! Finn’s menu overhaul took Pete’s kitchen from run-of-the-mill fried foods and bar munchies to amazingly complex dishes worthy of a five star restaurant. But since Finn was part of the equation and Calder loathed the latest addition to Family Justice, there’d be a freeze warning in hell before he gave the guy any credit.

  “Wear that clingy green dress. The one that puts your gorgeous knockers front and center and makes your ass a work of art.”

  He turned off the lights and held her hand as she clutched the railing while descending the steps.

  “Will appetizers be made available?” she innocently inquired.

  When he paused slightly she knew he was trying to decide whether she referred to actual food or something appetizing that involved naked bodies and a comfortable bed.

 
She was hugging his arm as they hurried from the garage into the warmth of the house when he asked, “Did you have something in mind?”

  Smart man. He kept his response open-ended and left the decision entirely up to her. What a gentleman!

  “They say you should eat something before food shopping or hitting up a restaurant. That way you don’t lose control.”

  It was truly funny how hard he was thinking about every word she said. Stephanie liked keeping him on his toes. Gave the playing field a bit of leveling because she was half-a-step away from acting like a giggling fangirl every time he walked into the room.

  “Control isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.”

  She stopped and turned, pressing her tummy against him as she leaned in. Purring, she feathered her fingers through his hair and pressed a swift kiss on his mouth. “Whose control are we referring to? Mine or yours?”

  Her panties melted down when he turned a slow, sexy smile on her and said, “Is it negotiable?”

  Laughing, she swatted his chest, said, “No,” and turned a fifty thousand watt smiling spotlight on him. “But it seemed polite to infer a choice.”

  His deep, appreciative laugh was the best foreplay she could think of.

  Slipping her small hand into his firm, warm grasp she put a finger to her lips, said “Shhh,” and pulled him along, stalking straight to their bedroom.

  With him still in tow, she went to her closet, searching for the green dress he suggested. “Grab that for me, shugah,” she murmured. And then because I think you’re awfully cute, it’s Gentleman’s Choice for lingerie. Choose whatever gets your heart thumping and I’ll wear it for you.”

  The gleam in his eyes let Stephanie know he was enjoying himself. She liked figuratively giving him the keys to her wardrobe. Being his dress up doll turned her on. Cue the feminist outrage. But she didn’t care what anyone thought. Dressing for her man was just part of her.

  While he ransacked her lingerie, she swaggered back into the bedroom and stripped in astonishingly no time at all the second she was out of eyesight. Listening carefully she picked up the sound of the dress hanger sliding onto a metal hook next to her vanity. He’d be in the bedroom within seconds. Reaching for a large, decorative bed pillow, she clutched it in front of her nakedness and waited for him to appear.

  “All set m’lady,” he announced. Two seconds later he stumbled to a halt and stared at her. “Is the pillow some new fashion statement?”

  With a sly smirk, she dropped it and posed proudly in all her naked glory. Her pregnant naked glory. As usual, he had a moment of gulping reaction to her nudity that quickly morphed into a lecherous grin.

  “Well, thank you for that,” he chuckled. Jerking a thumb over his shoulder he pointed to the back of the room. “You’re all set.”

  A melodramatic huff exploded from her mouth and she gave a mini foot stomp for good measure as her hands went to her swollen waist.

  “Are you under some impression that I’m going to dress myself?”

  All of a sudden he roared with laughter. “I think you scramble my brain because I’m fucking clueless right now. Like, whose control are we testing? And are we gonna do it or not?” He checked his watch. “Made a reservation, Duchess. Give me direction.”

  Breaking out a southern-twang infused parody of Austin Powers, she rubbed her hands in wide sweeping arcs on her belly and teased, “Do I make you horny, baby?”

  Making a circle with his forefinger, Calder snickered. “Side and rear view please.”

  Turning she cradled her bump demurely with one hand below and the other laying on top as she covered her boobs. Stephanie completely understood why women took pregnant boudoir shots. She found the whole being knocked up thing sexy and her wonderful man basically regarded her pregnancy as a huge universal paradigm shift.

  “Very nice. Now let me see that Georgia peach and decide if I want to take a bite.”

  Giggling, she did a perfect beauty queen pirouette. With her backside on display, she reached up with both hands and gathered her hair, holding it all up and out of the way as she playfully wiggled her butt.

  As she turned all the way around, she found he’d crossed his arms and had a decidedly lecherous expression on his face. His eyes were also glued to her ass.

  “So tell me again whose control is being tested.”

  “Yours, shugah.” Dropping to her knees she attacked his belt buckle and was lowering the zipper of his jeans before the man had enough time to recover from his apparent shock.

  With all the chutzpah and wicked charm she could muster, Stephanie smiled and opened her mouth. “Hungry. Feed me, darlin’.”

  Was it even a tiny bit surprising to find her handsome guy sporting a lovely, lovely erection? Good heavens, no! Didn’t take much at all to reduce him to a groveling, knuckle dragging troglodyte.

  Stroking his length gently, she grinned up at him. “Did you know that swallowing has health benefits?”

  “Do tell,” he growled.

  Squeezing firmly, she enjoyed watching the fat knob get plumper and swiftly licked a droplet of precum off the head.

  “Not only does your beautiful manhood deliver protein super food, I read that the calcium helps prevent tooth decay.”

  His husky laugh made her smile. “Protein super food. Tooth decay. Jesus woman!”

  “I know, right?” she giggled.

  Putting both hands to work, she twisted and stroked until there was no way he’d have the strength to stop her.

  “We can call this a mutually satisfying appetizer.”

  He might have been ready to object to the one sided nature of a knees delivered blowjob but she simply put an end to the noise in his head by pushing his inner gentleman aside and taking him in her mouth.

  After that, nothing could stop his groaning response or her eager attention. He wanted his ego stroked? Fine. She’d do the stroking with her mouth and then proudly perform through dinner because nothing guaranteed an end-of-evening ravishment like a pre-cocktail blow job.

  “What’s this?”

  Angie held up the Christmas stocking made to resemble a fishnet-covered leg with a red and green stiletto at the bottom.

  Parker swung around the sofa and lowered onto the cushion next to her. “With everyone else working overtime to come up with holiday traditions, I figured we should start with this.”

  “A fishnet leg?” She giggled. “Have you been watching The Christmas Story again?”

  He clutched at his heart. “I’m wounded angel. Got my own moves without having to find inspiration in a fucking movie.”

  Laying her head on the back of the sofa, she observed his rugged profile with loving eyes. She’d lucked out with him as her soul mate. They knew each other well. Maybe too well sometimes which is why they each tried extra hard to keep things interesting. Spontaneous fuckery and well thought out interludes that fed their passions were on the daily agenda.

  Poor her.

  “We were talking. You know, me and the guys.”

  The snarky grunt and sneer that she cut him off with came so easily she didn’t think to rein it in. A blast of delicious heat exploded inside her when he arched a brow and tilted his head. The clucking sound of disapproval felt like a sensual caress.

  “The spanking bench?” He ran one finger very lightly on her collarbone. The ripple of awareness his touch conjured up made her shiver. “It’s for moments like this.”

  “Why? Because of an eye roll? I can’t help it sometimes.” Wrong time to snicker, but she did.

  In a gentle voice that belied the underlying meaning he drawled, “We’ll need to go over a few things. Again,” he added with a bite. “I know you think being disrespectful will end with a discipline fuck.”

  She had a hard time not purring.

  “And while I admire your bravery, kitten,” he added gently, “and bow to your passion,” he nodded and let the words hang in the air. “I think your continuing willfulness demands a different approach.”
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  Well, damn! That got her attention. An approach different than a discipline fuck? She didn’t know whether to sigh or bit her lip with concern.

  Now that Parker’s hidden mastery of the crop led to understanding just how talented he was, she had a mental checklist going of things she longed to try. But she’d be a fool to disregard how intense some of those experiences would be.

  While busy daydreaming about Parker dressed in one of his sexy shirt and tie combos flogging her as she hung bound to the harem cross, his thoughts took a different path. Pushing aside the yummy fantasy, Angie’s eyes snapped to his in full awareness when he spoke and disavowed her sexy musings.

  “Discipline fuck? Absolutely. With some orgasm denial thrown in.”

  “What?”

  He kissed her shoulder and then bit down hard.

  “Hands tied to the sides of the bed platform. Legs on my shoulders. Great leverage by the way, the headboard.”

  His rumbling “Unf,” caused a deluge of shocking wet heat to pour into her center and soak her panties.

  “Grab hold and fuck your disrespect away. No coming for you though. When you treat me with willful disrespect, I will treat you like a fuck toy.”

  “Parker!”

  Damn him for the devil he is, she thought when he reached for her hand, the one with the eye catching sparkler, and kissed the expensive symbol of his claim. “Sorry, kitten. Part of the wife thing.”

  When she squirmed and spouted off like an antsy kid, even she saw how funny her reaction was but dammit she couldn’t help herself.

  “I was not being disrespectful. It’s just that when you said the guys, I automat–”

  He shut her up with a demanding kiss.

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” he said with triumph lacing every word. “Just because you’re Alex’s sister doesn’t mean the whole lot of them earn a snort-roll with every mention.”

  “What’s a snort-roll?”

  “Are you changing the subject?”

  She laughed. “Sorry, Counselor, but you have only yourself to blame for this one. You know how I am. And you cannot introduce a new term and not expect me to stop the presses.”