“Everything’s okay,” he said, curving his naked frame around hers spoon-fashion. “I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”
She started to protest, to press him for more, but the feel of his warm mouth against the nape of her neck and the hard ridge cradled against her convinced her to wait.
“I need you,” Josh said, nibbling an earlobe as he cupped and massaged a breast. “I need to be inside you.”
There was something in the way he said it, something that pulled at her, told her this was important. She gave herself up to him, let him work his magic. Her nightgown slid up to her waist. His hand smoothed over her bottom as he reached around to touch her, tease and torture and drive her insane.
Her body began to move of its own volition, silently begging for more. Still nestled against her, her back to his front, Josh slid deep inside, then came up off the bed, taking her with him so she was on her hands and knees and he was behind her. God, he felt so good, fit her so perfectly.
His hard body cocooned her, his hands smoothed over her hot damp skin. Gripping her hips to hold her in place, he began to move, slowly at first, then faster, deeper, harder. Pleasure rolled through her, hot and intense. Need coiled low in her belly. Her mouth went dry while her body flushed with heat.
Deep thrusts carried her higher. She moaned and started coming, gave in to the hot, thick ripples of sensation that blotted everything but the hunger burning through her.
Josh didn’t let up, just kept driving into her until she came again, so fiercely she cried out his name. Seconds later, he followed, his muscles taut as he reached his own release.
Little by little, the pleasure slowly spun out. Josh eased her back down on the bed and snuggled her against him. No condom tonight. They had talked about it. She was on birth control. She hadn’t been with a man since she’d left the hospital after the beating, and Josh had been checked. Being so natural with him felt incredible.
She had always wanted another baby, imagined a little boy who looked just like Josh. Ivy would love a little brother. Tory pushed the image away. They were nowhere near that kind of thinking. There was no reason to believe they ever would be.
Josh moved her curls aside and pressed a last soft kiss on the side of her neck. He snuggled her a few minutes, then gave in with a sigh, eased out of bed, and left her alone in the bed.
She was in deep trouble with this man. She should have learned her lesson with Damon, should be holding back, keeping her emotions in check until she could be certain he was the man he seemed.
But there was something about Josh Cain, a combination of incredible strength tempered with a hint of vulnerability that drew her as no man ever had.
She wished he had told her what had happened with Damon, but he was already asleep in the other room. She could hear his deep breathing through the open door; clearly, he was as tired as she. Tomorrow would be soon enough to find out what had happened, she told herself.
But tomorrow came sooner than she expected when her sleep was disturbed by a determined pounding on the hotel room door. Tory had a feeling it wasn’t going to be good news.
*
While Tory slept in the other room, Josh rose and showered. He’d just dried off when he heard knocking outside the door to the other room. He had a bad feeling he knew who it was.
Cursing, he pulled on just his jeans and hurried into Tory’s room, saw her grab her robe off the chair and pull it on.
“Scottsdale Police! Open the door!”
Sonofabitch. He’d known this could happen. He wasn’t a fool. He’d hoped Damon would have the balls to keep his mouth shut, keep the conversation between the two of them. He should have known it was too much to expect from a slimeball woman-beater like Bridger.
He checked the peephole, saw uniformed officers, took a deep breath, stepped back, and pulled open the door.
“We’re looking for Joshua Cain. That you?”
“That’s me.”
“We’ve got a warrant for your arrest, Mr. Cain. You’ll need to come with us.”
Josh held up his hands, showing them he wasn’t a danger, which wasn’t actually true, but still . . . “I won’t give you any trouble, but I need to make a call first. The guy who’s pressing charges? The lady had a restraining order against him. There’s a chance he’ll come after her. I need to phone a friend of mine, a bodyguard. He’ll make sure she’s safe while I’m gone.”
Officers McElroy and Rodriguez shared a glance between them. They assessed Tory, who clutched her robe together, her face pale and frightened. She looked sleep-rumpled, her fiery hair tousled around her face, and sexy as hell.
“What’s the bodyguard’s name?” McElroy asked.
“Hamilton Brown. Works for Maximum Security.”
“I know him,” Rodriguez said. “Good guy.”
“Make the call,” McElroy said.
Josh pulled out his phone and called Ham, who answered groggily, still sleepy from being up so late last night. “Not you again.”
“Sorry, buddy. I’m headed for jail. I need you to look out for Tory.”
“Jesus, man. I thought you said nothing happened last night.”
“I said nothing much.”
Ham sighed. “I should have figured. Whatever you need to do, don’t worry about Tory. I’m on my way.” Ham hung up the phone and Josh turned to the cops. “Mind if I finish getting dressed?”
“Make it fast,” McElroy said.
Josh started for the adjoining room and the older cop followed. Josh noticed he’d unsnapped his holster, letting his hand rest on the butt of his pistol. If Josh had wanted to disarm him, the gun wouldn’t have mattered. With any luck, those days were past.
Tory hurried after them. “What happened last night?” she asked as Josh grabbed a bright blue, Dallas Cowboys T-shirt and pulled it on over his head.
“Damon and I had a chat. I told him not to bother you again. That didn’t sit well. He swung at me. I swung back. Then I left.”
“That’s it?”
He sat down to pull on his socks and boots. “Pretty much.”
He didn’t tell her that afterward he’d been too wound up to come straight back to the room. That his confrontation with Damon, thinking about him with Tory, thinking about the beating Bridger had given her, had pushed him right to the edge.
He’d left the Jeep in the hotel parking lot and walked down the block to the Silver Spur Saloon, drank three beers and a shot of Jack.
Afterward, he’d been calm enough to come up to his own room, thank Ham, and send him home. But the edginess hadn’t completely left him, the powerful need for Tory he hadn’t expected to feel and didn’t really like.
It wasn’t until he had taken her, claimed her in some primal way, that the restless feeling had left him and he had been able to sleep.
He looked over at her now. She was biting her lower lip, worry stamped into every line of her face. He felt bad about that, but Damon had to be dealt with. He didn’t regret what he had done.
“I know an attorney here in town,” she said. “But he specializes in family law. I’m not sure—”
Josh tossed her his cell phone. “Call Linc. Explain things, tell him what’s going on. He’ll know what to do.”
He had phoned his brother last night before he’d gone to see Damon, had asked him to send the jet back to pick them up. It was scheduled to arrive at noon. Way it was looking, that might have to change.
“Time’s up, Cain. Turn around and put your hands behind you.”
Josh did as he was told and McElroy locked the cuffs in place. “Stay here till Ham shows up,” he said to Tory as McElroy nudged him forward.
Tory caught his arm. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this.”
His pulse shot up. “I told you, dammit, this isn’t your fault. No one’s to blame but Bridger.”
“Let’s go.” Rodriguez pushed him out of the room.
Chapter Nineteen