Page 66 of Justice For Me

He slammed the bottle down again. “Nope. No alcohol at all. Ever. How long before I’m shit-faced?”

“Why have you never drank alcohol before? I thought all young guys stole liquor from their parents.” She was truly intrigued. It was just another piece to the Justice puzzle. “And it won’t be long at all before you are shit-faced if you’ve never drank before, hot shot.” His eyes were already starting to look droopy and loopy.

“My real mom was a junkie. I figured I probably had it in my blood to be one too,” he answered with a shrug. “Holy fuck me seven ways to Sunday…this is starting to feel weird. Should I be feeling weird?” He tried to focus on her but she was suddenly spinning wildly around the room. “You need to sit your ass down, you’re making me dizzy,” he muttered as he flounced back on the bed.

Within minutes, he was down for the count. Megan couldn’t believe he’d never drunk before. One look at his all-American body and she would have pegged him for college frat boy that wasn’t sober two days in a row while in college He looked so cute passed out drunk, snoring softly with his mouth wide open. After about twenty minutes, she went to work with her ointment. His eye lashes fluttered irritably when she got anywhere near his precious nose, but that was the only hint that he had a clue what she was doing to him The ointment would heal him up very nicely…she just hoped Malachi found the courage to heal the rest of him.

Chapter 19

Justice woke up with the mother-of-all headaches, his stomach rolling wildly, and his entire body feeling like it had spent the night in a sauna. He blinked his eyes open and found himself eye-to-eye with Megan. Her head lay on the pillow next to his and her eyes were, as always, burning with love and sweet adoration. She blinked slowly and smiled at him.

He offered a weak grin and turned his head in the other direction, totally worried about how bitter his breath probably smelled, but was shocked to find his head was resting on Malachi’s chest. The man he’d screamed at in front of everybody last night…the man he’d told to not touch him again, was holding him in a loving embrace and looking down at him like he was worried to death about his physical and mental health.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Justice muttered and shot from the bed, stumbling over his feet but thankfully making it to the toilet before he puked…and puked…and puked. He threw up so much his throat felt raw and his insides felt like they were hanging on for dear life to keep from being purged from his body and flushed down the toilet. His head was still pounding and he had to pee so fucking bad he suspected the tears creeping out of his eyes were probably urine. It would have been physically impossible to feel any worse than he did at the moment. Why the hell did people willingly do this to themselves over and over again? This was the most magnificently worse feeling in the fucking world.

When Megan tried to come in to help him, he sent her running for safety with an angry glare…and he had to admit the smell in the room probably didn’t do much in the arena of persuading her to stay. God, he was disgusting. After another few minutes, Malachi came into the room and all the angry glares in the world didn’t seem to faze the man. He patiently ignored all the hate being sent his way, turned on the shower to get it nice and warm, and laid out a toothbrush and toothpaste.

“Brush first and then get in the shower. Megan went to get something for your headache.” He put the toothpaste on the brush and handed it to Justice.

Justice took it and started brushing because he was seriously afraid Malachi might start brushing his teeth for him if he didn’t act fast enough to suit the man. After rinsing his mouth, he gulped down a full glass of ice-cold water and started to refill it for another when Malachi grasped his hand and shook his head.

“Not a good idea, pet. Let’s get you in the shower before the second wave hits, okay?”

Malachi slipped into the shower with him but made absolutely no move to touch him in a sexual way. In an almost clinical way, his hands gently scrubbed every crevice as he hummed softly. Justice found it rather creepy. This was not his Malachi. Had he done this to the man? His last love victim had just gotten a restraining order, Malachi had undergone some type of personality switch.

“I’m okay. I’ve got this,” he muttered. “I’m sorry about last night. I…I was tired and sore, talking when I should have shut the fuck up. It’s one of my many weaknesses, isn’t it?” Endless chatter, number fourteen on the symptom list.

“You’re important to me, pet. I can learn to be whatever you need me to be, just tell me how to act. I promise I’ll listen and I won’t disappoint you again.”

Justice looked at the man he loved. Malachi was saying all the wrong things but he was saying them so fucking earnestly that Justice just let it go. Maybe he was wanting too much? Maybe he was asking something of Malachi that the other man could never give? Maybe he needed to not be such a greedy son of a bitch that thought he deserved to have it all?

“You guys look really hot,” Megan said with a saucy smile as she joined them in the bathroom, discreetly lighting a candle while they finished their shower. When they both stepped out, Megan immediately wrapped Jasper in a warm towel and started drying him, top to bottom. With a wink in Malachi’s direction, she said, “Saddle up, baby. Dante wants you in the war room right away. Operation Hunt-Down-and-Destroy Nicholas is in full swing.”

“Give me a second and I’ll be ready,” Justice muttered, wondering why his stomach was rolling the way it was. There couldn’t be a fucking thing left in him after his pukefest earlier. “No, sir,” Megan snatched him back, pulling him against her. “You’re staying here with me, soldier. You need to rest before you join the militia.”

“Hell, no. I’m going.”

“Staying.”

Malachi shrugged and walked away. Fucking traitorous coward.

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Megan started tenderly drying his body with a warm, fluffy towel. She babied every delicious inch of his body, teasing certain spots until he moaned with pleasure. Well, it still worked, at least. His heart might be broken, but his cock still responded like there wasn’t a fucking concern in the world.

“I’m going to cut your hair,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together with glee and excitement. “Sit down at the vanity and let me grab my stuff!”

Justice knew he looked fucking terrified because hewasfucking terrified. No way was she cutting his hair.

“You are not cutting my hair,” Justice countered but, quickly remembering his role, hoping it was still intact, he changed it to, “Please don’t cut my hair, Mistress.”

She giggled, enjoying his discomfort and cuter-than-cute little boy pout. Malachi had never had a fucking chance going head to head with this kid. “Don’t be such a baby, pet. You’ll look absolutely adorable with a sexy little shag.”

His gulp caused her to laugh hysterically. “You should see your face! Priceless! I’m just going to give you a trim, pet.” She grabbed her comb and scissors and quickly cornered him on the vanity stool before he could make a runaway exit. “Nu uh, pet. I’ve been dying to get my fingers on this blonde silk ever since I found your photo that Malachi left behind.” Her fingers shuffled through the locks, massaging his scalp until his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Okay. You can do whatever you want,” he mumbled lazily. “That feels so good.”

She kissed the back of his neck, loving him so much it took her breath away. Her ability to love both men, so beautifully opposite in every way but both so damned lovable, still amazed her. Their relationship, viewed strange or unnatural by some, was so perfectly perfect to her…worth fighting for. Both her men were stubborn and emotionally damaged by forces beyond their control. Watching them fumble and stumble around each other, trying to weave through testosterone and the ‘baggage’ of their childhoods was exhausting. Clearly, she was going to have to take charge and gently nudge them in the right direction…or smash their heads together until they cried uncle.

“Malachi loves this hair, I wouldn’t dare do more than a trim.” She let it tease her fingertips. “He might try spanking my ass instead of yours!”

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