Radar has always been that guy for the club, his family, and anyone else he happens to meet. In a word: dependable. When his daughter, who is like him in so many ways, approaches him about a troubled tourist, he’s willing to hear the beauty’s story. Of course, what he hears he’s totally not prepared for.
Justice has been through a lot and was just starting to feel safe again. This trip to Ft. Royal was supposed to be a fresh start to her new life; not a new kind of nightmare. Can she trust the kindness of a stranger in a strange place after having gone through what most would consider a literal hell?
When Radar discovers just how much the citizen justice system has failed Justice, he’s bound and determined to get her the justice she deserves. He has the resources, and his brothers, and what ensues is one of the wildest rides he’s ever taken. Will it be for the best cause anyone can stand for? Will love prevail?
“There’s something else there,” I muttered, and Atlas gave me some side-eye as he licked some frozen yogurt off his spoon.
Justice walked ahead of us on the beach, smiling with a ridiculous amount of delight at the little sandpipers scuttling along the beach, the sky turning all sorts of subtle pastel pinks and yellows as the sun dipped in the west.
“Most definitely. You going to fill me in on the full meal deal or what?” he asked.
“Later,” I said.
“Don’t want her to know you’re digging?” he asked.
“When do we ever let any of them know we’re digging?” I asked.
“Fair,” he said with a lift of his shoulder.
“It’s not like you to take on a project like this,” he said, and I nodded.
“I know it. Like, I don’t see anything long term and it’s not like that… I’m just saying—”
“It’s a puzzle,” he said, and I nodded.
“Been a while,” I agreed.
“Nothing serious since Marisol,” he agreed, and I scowled at him. He held up his hands, his spoon sticking out of his mouth.
“I just got done telling you it’s not like that, didn’t I? I mean, shit. I just met her today.”
“What is it about then?”
I took a bite of my own frozen yogurt and rolled it around my mouth as it melted, considering the question.
“She seems like genuinely good people,” I said.
“And? Good people get fucked over all the time, bro. Why her?”
I sighed. “Maybe I’m tired of good people getting fucked over without consequences. Maybe if I can do something about it this time, I should.”
“I mean, what if it were Lucia, or Mariposa?” I asked, rolling their names with their proper Cuban accent as I always did when I spoke of them.
Atlas sputtered, “Pssht! Don’t lie to yourself, bro. That woman is nowhere near your daughters’ ages—”
“No, she’s not, but it still stands.”
“Don’t move too fast,” he said with a grunt, and I rolled my eyes – apparently I was where Lucia got it from. I told him honestly, “I don’t plan on moving on her at all, bro. I mean, what’s the point? She lives in Texas, has a life there. My life’s here. It’s dead before it could even get a chance to begin.”
“So, you have thought this through,” he said with a wolfish grin, and I pushed him off balance.
“Fucker,” I snarled. “In passing, only. I mean, look at her. She’s gorgeous.”
“Oh, trust me,” he said. “I’ve been looking.” He eyed her back appreciatively.
I shook my head and said, “I don’t think that’d be the best idea given the circumstances.”
“Aw, spoilsport,” he said with a snicker.
I gave him a sidelong look and reassured he was just yanking my fucking chain, backed off white knighting for the moment.
“I don’t get it,” he said.
“Me either,” I intoned and my best friend and business partner, my club brother and all-around hetero life mate, clicked his tongue as we both stared after the woman walking slowly through the sand, eating her frozen treat ahead of us. She was wholly absorbed in watching the sandpipers with a faint smile and leaning down to look at the tiny shells along the sand.
It was warm, and so comfortable being fetched up against his side, head on his chest, his hand in my hair massaging my neck and the back of my head, his other hand smoothing up and down my arm. I was drowsing lightly the drone of the television in the background soothing, and I know, I know, it was so incredibly selfish of me to soak this up, but it’d been so long… if ever, that I’d felt so cared for and cherished.
Finally, with a contented sigh, he pressed his lips to my forehead and switched out the bedside light.
God, when his warm lips touched my forehead, I just melted. My light drowse deepening into sleep. I didn’t even notice when he twisted under me to settle himself, drawing me into the circle of his arms more completely. His free hand which had smoothed up and down my arm slipping beneath my satin cami’s top and suddenly I froze, eyes flying open and body drawing taut, on high alert as I grabbed his wrist and threw up resistance to his touching my ruined side.
“Shhhh, easy, baby. It’s okay,” he murmured and kissed my forehead again. I felt myself go slightly more lax under that touch of lips and I had to lick my suddenly dry ones and try a couple of times to get my voice out of my tightening throat.
“It’s not,” I said, voice thick with emotion.
“It is,” he insisted but he kept his hand from my side, and while he refused to move it back, he didn’t force me to do anything. It was my decision, let him touch or pull his wrist away, I could feel the vibration of his waiting all the way to my soul.
I looked up into his dark eyes, the look on his face impassive in the wavering blue light from the television and I didn’t see any judgment there… just patience, waiting on me to make my decision.
I released his wrist and his hand felt gentle and warm on my side. I closed my eyes as he smoothed it lightly over my raised scars and when I opened them, he was smiling faintly, his gaze warm.
“Thank you,” he murmured. He pressed his lips to mine with an almost reverence. I sucked in a sharp breath and opened to him as he dug his thumb and fingers slightly, massaging my flank. I swallowed hard and he rolled me onto my back, leaning over me protectively as he deepened the kiss as though he couldn’t get enough.
Which, fancy that, I couldn’t get enough either.
I cradled his face with one hand my other drifting to his ass and pulling myself closer and he groaned in appreciation.
“Mm, keep that up I’m going to do more than just pet you,” he purred, and I giggled.
“I think I’d honestly like that,” I said, surprising myself a bit. I mean… I had just been with Billy under a week ago and in Radar’s arms, he was almost all but forgotten and wasn’t that some sort of unseemly?
When he kissed me again, I didn’t care if it was unseemly or not. In fact, it felt as though all of my cares just fell away under his kiss, his touch, the shelter of his hard compact body.
He slid his hand from my side and dipped it below the waistband of my satin sleep shorts and the lace panties beneath, his fingers questing for and finding my pussy, gently stroking me until a gasp left my throat and a whimper left my lips for his.
Text Copyright © 2021 A.J. Downey
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved