SPENCER WATCHED HER FACE, saw the moment the pleasure overtook her, and much as he wanted to let go, he couldn’t give it up, couldn’t miss seeing her like this.
Never one to be inhibited, Arizona came with deep guttural groans, her face tight with release, her long dark hair tumbling everywhere. He felt her squeezing him tight, and he felt her wetness.
More than that, he felt her surprise.
As she eased, her cries quieted, and her body quivered in small aftershocks. Limp, a little sweaty, she came down over his chest with a moan. “Oh, my God.”
Moved by her honest response, he smiled and kissed her temple, then rearranged her a little, keeping her legs bent but stroking her spine and smoothing back her hair. It was the oddest thing, being so primed and so incredibly turned on, but content just to be with her, to hold her.
“I have no bones.”
“Mmm. Well, I still have one particular bone that I’ll continue sharing with you.”
She snickered. “I meant that I’m limp.”
“In a good way, I hope.” He kissed her temple again with affection and caring, though he doubted she knew it.
Could she recognize genuine caring? He just didn’t know.
“A very good way.” She stirred enough to run her fingers through his chest hair. “I like this.”
Damn, given the slick, snug way she still held him, when she moved her hand, even a finger, he felt it on his cock. “The release?”
“Actually, I meant your sexy, hairy chest. God, Spencer, I do love touching you.” She lifted her head and smiled at him. She had a glow about her, her blue eyes lazy, her honey-colored skin flushed a dusky rose. Almost timidly, she said, “But, yeah, the other was pretty amazing, too.”
Damn, but she pleased him. “I’m glad.”
“It was a surprise, you know? Sort of blew my socks off. At least it would have if I was wearing socks.”
Nervous chatter from Arizona?
Talking while still buried inside her sweet body wasn’t easy, but he managed. “Sometimes surprises are nice.”
She now had both hands running over his chest. “I mean, of course I knew about it. But getting that, going all goosey and tingly and that breathtaking wave of sensation, with you inside me, well, that was a big old first for me.”
Damn it, he couldn’t bear it. Hearing her talk about it was making him hotter. He caught her face and pulled her in close for another devouring kiss. He wanted to brand her in some way, to make her his and only his—and he wanted to treat her as gently as possible, to cherish her and show her that love didn’t hurt.
Love?
Oh, God. Determined to block that from his mind, Spencer tangled his hands in her hair and ate at her soft mouth. Not turning her to her back took great concentration on his part. He desperately wanted to be over her, in her, driving hard and deep…
His control shattered.
“My turn,” he whispered, and it took little enough for him to clasp that lush ass and press up into her. She still had her knees drawn up along his sides, her full, firm breasts pressing against his chest.
As he thrust, she moaned, clenched around him, and opened her mouth on his shoulder.
Surprised, he asked softly, “Again?”
As an answer, her short nails dug into his muscles, and she began rocking her hips in a cadence with his.
Amazing.
Holding back wasn’t easy, but no way would he cut her short. He hugged her closer so that she ground against him with each movement of their bodies, her clit on his shaft, her stiffened nipples against his chest. With her scent surrounding him, she got wetter, her body hotter, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from exploding.
Just when he thought he wouldn’t last a second more, she gave a vibrating moan and treated him to the slight sting of her sharp little teeth. Perfect. He let himself go with a harsh, guttural groan.
Coming was great.
Coming with Arizona was…hell, maybe life-altering. He felt a part of her, connected in an alarming way.
After what seemed an eternity, they both went lax, melting into the mattress with pounding heartbeats and labored breaths. Arizona was a warm, gentle weight on his chest, her scent spicier now, filling his head.
Seconds ticked by.
He didn’t want to move. Ever.
He didn’t want to talk, either. Not yet. Not until he’d reconciled all the ways she leveled him.
Nothing had really changed, and yet it felt as if everything had.
Sluggishly, Arizona pushed up on straightened arms and looked at him. With an amused shake of her head and a groan of near-discomfort, she unbent her legs—and collapsed again.
And even that, feeling her slim but strong limbs around him, her full breasts and now soft nipples on his sweat-damp chest…it moved him. A lot.
In myriad ways.
While trying to calm his chaotic thoughts, Spencer idly caressed her dewy skin. He could span the width of her back with one hand, and yet she had more courage than most grown men.
At six feet, five inches tall, he towered over a lot of people. His job as a bounty hunter, his demeanor of grim resolve, gave most reason for pause. But not Arizona. From their very first meeting, she’d gone head to head with him, her pride, her determination and confidence matching his in spades.
She’d been smart enough for wariness; she had a very real understanding of her own limitations. But she’d had no real fear of him.
Mostly because she thought she had little enough to lose. But also because she had real skill. Granted, the skills were limited by her size and strength, but put to the test, she’d do well under pressure or in a situation rife with danger.
He admired her.
And now, knowing she also matched him sexually…it was more than any man should have to deal with.
“Holy smokes, Spence.” She gave him a playful love bite, then rubbed her nose over his chest hair. “I’m almost speechless.”
Relishing all the tantalizing dips and curves of her body, he ran his hands from her shoulders to her ass and back again. She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
The most fearless. Most reckless.
And the most endearing.
What the hell was he going to do with her?
Unlike with other women, he couldn’t just decide to enjoy his time with her while it lasted. He squeezed his eyes shut, but he couldn’t shut out the reality of their relationship.
Complicated, difficult and important—to her, to her future and how she accepted life. How she valued herself.
He was the biggest fraud imaginable, because he’d known from the onset that he couldn’t play this game without eventually bedding her. He wasn’t superhuman, and that’s what it’d take to resist a woman like Arizona, especially while getting closer.
So he’d known, and still he’d used the excuse of trying to help her over the hurdles of emotional and physical abuse as a way to get her under him. Because he’d had to have her.
God, that sounded awful, even as it rang true.
And that made him a grade-A bastard.
Arizona would be the first to deny it, but she was by far the most vulnerable woman he’d ever met. She had no understanding of common courtesy, much less genuine kindness. She expected little and told herself she wanted, and deserved, nothing more.
For her, affection was an unfamiliar, even alien concept. As a grown and experienced man, he could decipher what he felt. He could deal with it.
He understood it.
But Arizona didn’t have the advantage of healthy relationships to contrast against this. Her emotional growth had been so badly stunted by traffickers that she might misconstrue sexual satisfaction for something…more.
She deserved all those exciting first discoveries that most girls started building in their late teens. Arizona deserved to have comparisons, to really know what she felt and what she wanted.
She should expect the best, because she deserved it.
“You’ve gotten awfully quiet.”
He cupped a big hand over her backside, palming one cheek. “You wore me out and my brain is sluggish.”
Sounding far too young, she asked with forced insouciance, “Not disappointed?”
Her uncertainty stabbed like a knife. “No, baby.” He kissed her crown, then the bridge of her nose. “I’m as far from disappointed as a man could get.”
“Good.” Relief lightened her tone. “Because I liked it, too.”
That made him smile. “I know.”
“You do?”
“I figured coming twice was a positive sign.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess.” She propped herself up with her pointy little elbows on his chest. “I’ve never done that before.”
“Come with a man?”
Nodding, she toyed again with his chest hair. “By myself, well, that’s different. But the idea of getting with a man willingly…”
“I understand.” And he was very glad to be the man who shared that with her.
“You surprised me.”
The room was quiet, the gray day intimate, the tumbled sheets comfortable. He ran his fingers through her tangled hair. Everything about her, physical and emotional, fascinated him more than he’d ever thought possible. “Give me an hour or so, and I can surprise you again.”
She didn’t smile with him. “So…”
That particular serious look on Arizona had him really curious. “Something on your mind, honey?”
She chewed her lower lip, then blurted, “Jackson is pretty notorious sex candy.”
Sex candy? Jackson? That wasn’t at all what he’d expected, and for a moment, he stalled. While exploring the curve of her behind, he explained quietly, “You probably don’t know this, but when you’re sprawled out over a naked man after having sex with him, it’s really bad form to talk about another guy.”
Her brows scrunched down. “But I’m curious.”
Worse and worse.
He didn’t want to discourage her—not in any way—so he tried to hide all disgruntlement. “About Jackson?”
She studied him, and her face brightened with a mocking grin. “Not that way.” Laughing, she slugged his shoulder. “It’s just that I was thinking of him being such a panty-dropper.”
The things she said could make his brain swim. “Former panty-dropper.”
She looked at him in confusion. “What?”
Because it was important for her to understand the distinction, which reflected not only on relationships in general but also highlighted the difference between honorable men and cheaters, Spencer tried to explain. “Jackson is in love with Alani. You know that, right?”
“He doesn’t exactly hide his feelings about her. So what?”
“Being in love means that Alani’s panties are the only ones Jackson wants to drop from now on.”
Perplexed, she thought about that. “So a guy has to be in love to give up variety?”
He had no idea about the direction of her thoughts. But he wanted to be patient with her, and he wanted her to feel comfortable asking him anything. “What’s this about, baby?”
She veered offtrack to ask, “Why are you calling me baby?”
Leaning in to put his nose in her neck, Spencer smelled her. Touched her. Tasted her skin. “You are so soft, and so sweet. It’s just an endearment. You don’t like it?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s okay.”
He kissed her to keep from smiling. “So what are you thinking about?”
After a long hesitation that built the tension, she blurted, “Are you going to be doing this with any other women? I mean, while you’re doing it with me?”
Jealousy? Possessiveness? He suffered both, but he hadn’t expected it of her. Pretending to misunderstand, he mused aloud, “I did offer that redhead in the bar a three-way—”
She slugged him again, not so playfully this time. “Not funny, Spence.”
The grin got away from him. “It’s a little funny.”
She started to leave him, but he held on to her, and after the briefest wrestling match where he chuckled and she groused, she gave up. “Fine.” Plopping down on him again, she snapped, “Do whatever you want. Screw whoever you want.”
“I need a few minutes first, but thanks.”
Her mouth opened, then closed. After a second, she asked, “Me?”
“I’m a one-woman-at-a-time man.” He lifted her face and kissed her lightly on her mulish mouth. “Right now, you’re the only one I want.”
“Really?”
She looked so hopeful, wearing her heart on her sleeve, not bothering to protect herself. She would protect the world, anyone she thought needed her help.
But she wouldn’t protect her own heart.
“Silly Arizona.” He cupped her face, stroked her jaw with a thumb. “How on earth could I want any other woman when you’re around?”
Her mood lightened, and she surprised him by sitting up with a smile. “Let’s go eat some cake. I’m hungry.” She eyed him from head to toe and back again. “And maybe the sugar will speed along your recovery.”
So she wanted him again? Nice. “That particular hungry look from you might have done the trick.” He reached for her—and his doorbell rang.
Her expression went from impish to suspicious. “Who is that?”
“No idea.” Bodily, he lifted her out of his way and stood. “Why don’t you stay put and I’ll go find out?”
“Like that?” She nodded at his crotch. “Probably not a good idea.”
“Smart-ass.” He removed the spent condom and dropped it into the waste can, then reached for a pair of boxers.
Fascinated, Arizona watched him intently. “Well, you know who it is.”
He had an idea, but it wasn’t easy to banter with her while she sat there naked, in his bed, still warm from sex and staring so fixedly at his junk. “Who?”
“It’s Marla.”
“You don’t know that.” He pulled on jeans as the bell rang again. “Could be the postman.” And just to tease her, he said, “Or maybe Jackson decided to visit you.”
“Nah.” She sprawled to her back, one leg bent, arms over her head, and stretched. She was utterly comfortable in her nudity. “He’ll visit with us later today at Dare’s.”
Spencer had to take a turn staring. “I don’t suppose you’d want to stay exactly like that until I get back.”
She went still, then smiled. “You plan to take long?”
“No.” He wanted Arizona again, and he didn’t trust her to her own temper, so he’d send Marla on her way as quickly as he could.
“Will you bring me some cake?”
In two long strides, Spencer reached her. Without thinking about it, he leaned over her for a quick smooch and ended up kissing air when Arizona bolted to the other side of the bed.
She stood there, shoulders back with pride, face pinched with embarrassment.
Spencer straightened. They stared at each other. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”
Her mouth tightened, but she nodded. “It’s okay.”
No, it wasn’t, but the bell sounded again. “I was only going to kiss you.”
Suddenly bounding up and over the bed to land in front of him, she grabbed his face for a hard kiss. “I’m sorry I…reacted. Now go. But hurry back. If you’re gone long at all, my imagination is going to really tick me off.”
That made him grin. He left the room before he changed his mind and didn’t go at all. That would be unkind to Marla.
* * *
THE SECOND HE CLEARED the room, Arizona dropped back on the bed with a groan. Why did she have to act like a putz just because Spencer tried to kiss her? God, she despised her own weaknesses. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would never physically hurt her.
But deep down, in places where reason didn’t exist, it didn’t matter. Some fears remained, and they gnawed at her peace of mind, keeping her from true freedom.
Disgusted with herself, she lay there in the bed for a minute before jumping up to creep down the hallway, going far enough to listen in.
Sadly, she couldn’t hear a thing other than the soft drone of voices. Definitely Marla—not that she’d had a doubt.
Did Spencer still want that woman? Did he have fond memories of his time with her? Lustful memories? For certain, Marla didn’t go fleeing the bed in a panic over a kiss.
Marla, damn her, would not have hang-ups that limited what Spencer could do.
Turning to face the wall, Arizona clunked her head once, then stalked into the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror, but her frown looked the same, as did her eyes, mouth, nose. And other than a few whisker burns here and there, and a possible hickey on her neck, her body didn’t look any different, either.
She touched the interesting passion bruise on her neck and went all soft and mushy again.
Man, oh, man, Spencer knew how to play it in the sack. The guy had some serious skills. With his mouth, his hands.
Skills he’d used with other women.
How had Marla put it? If you’d ever had him, you’d feel differently about having him again.
Yeah, she got that.
Now.
Because she definitely wanted him again.
But what did she know about hanging on to a guy? Before Spencer, she’d just wanted men to keep their distance. Shoot, she would have kicked their butts to ensure they didn’t get too close. Well, except for Jackson, but that was different. She and Jackson were…friends. Almost like family.
But not exactly.
Now, with Spencer, she wanted to get as close as two people could get.
Sure, he’d seemed content enough with their little go-around in the sack. But Spencer had told her all along that he wanted to normalize her—her words, not his—and that once she got over her hang-ups, he intended to send her packing off to some other nameless, faceless dude.
Arizona curled her lip. Not happening. No other guy appealed to her like he did. If forced to it, she could screw another guy, and she’d survive it just as she always had.
But she would never crave another man the way she craved Spencer.
She wouldn’t enjoy anyone else like she did Spencer. She snorted. Enjoy. What a wimpy word for how she’d felt.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Arizona thought of all the ways he excited her senses. She loved looking at him. The man had a seriously hard, sexy body. He was so damned big. All over. And his body hair…fascinating. It added to his manliness, not that he needed any help with that. He was so macho, he could define the word.
Breathing in his hot scent made her tingly all over. Other than noticing unpleasant odors, like sweat and alcohol, she’d never paid attention to a man’s aroma. But Spencer smelled so delicious that she practically hyperventilated when near him, because she kept breathing deep, filling her lungs with him.
Oh, and his taste… A flock of butterflies rioted in her stomach with just the memory of his kiss, the stroke of his damp tongue, the heat of his mouth. Knowing how good his sleek flesh tasted under her tongue, she wondered about tasting him everywhere. Maybe, once she got more used to him, she’d give it a go. Would Spencer like that? She snorted again.
All guys liked the pleasure of a woman’s mouth.
But most of all, she really, really loved touching him. All over. With her hands, her mouth. Sliding her body over his—
The unexpected peal of her cell phone nearly stopped her heart.
Good grief, she’d been totally immersed in a stand-up, vivid, hot-and-bothered fantasy. All about Spencer.
A guy she’d just had sex with and who was, at this very moment, standing in his doorway wearing nothing but jeans, showing off his awesome bod while chatting with Marla, a woman who’d shared his bed.
Bleh. She’d have to visualize stomping them both later. Right now, she had to answer her phone. Because her separate phones had distinctive rings, she knew it was a social call. But because she had few enough people who ever called her, she assumed Jackson wanted to make sure she wouldn’t back out of the visit today.
She managed to find her purse and dig out the correct cell on the fourth ring.
Without checking the caller ID, she said, “What’s up?”
“Candy?”
Oh, no. No way.
Luckily the bed was right there, because her backside landed on it before she’d even realized her knees were bending. “Yes?”
“It’s Quin.”
No reply came to mind.
“From the Green Goose.”
Her tongue felt thick when she said, “Quinto?”
“You gave me this number. On a note, in my pocket. Last night. Do you remember?”
Yeah, now she remembered. But until she’d heard his voice, she’d forgotten all about that. What did the call mean?
And what the hell had she been thinking?
“I am sorry to bother you,” Quin said with strained apology. “You were drinking, so you probably do not—”
Thoughts scrambling, Arizona interrupted him, anxious to keep him on the phone. “No, it’s fine. I’m glad to hear from you.” Trying for cheerfulness to cover her shock, wishing she could order her memories so that they made sense, she asked stupidly, “What’s up, Quin?”
Audible breathing, along with a lot of hesitation, filled her ear. “Since I will not be able to see you at the bar again, I wanted to thank you.”
Her mouth went dry as dust. Think, Arizona, think.
She cleared her throat. “Why wouldn’t you see me?” Oh, God, that sounded lame, not at all convincing. But was she supposed to know of the raid? Should she remain undercover? Hadn’t Dare busted that whole gig wide open?
Think, think, think.
Hoping for inspiration, she said, “Maybe you don’t know, but I got hired to work there. I report in tonight.”
She heard some shuffling, as if he’d muffled the phone, or his groan, then Quin whispered, “No, you do not.”
“Why not?” Somehow she knew, absolutely knew, that Quin was in big trouble.
“The police came, with others. You were a part of that, right?”
“The police?” She’d drunk so much that she couldn’t recall if she was supposed to be aware of the raid or not. Rubbing her forehead, she asked, “What are you talking about?”
Hadn’t she and Spencer covered their connection even then? Or, no, wait—they’d sort of fought together against a few of the rowdier drunks. Joel had been there, but far as she could remember, he hadn’t gotten hurt. Spencer’s bimbo had already split, so she hadn’t been around.
But Terry Janes…no, she hadn’t come across him again. She hadn’t seen Carl, either—not until he tried jumping her in the alley outside the bar.
She had no memory of Quin being about at all.
“The raid that shut down the bar?” Quin prompted. “You were with the artist, and with Mr. Janes. There was a fight, and then the police came.”
Oh, God. She didn’t know whether to trust him or not. He sounded like Quin, but the boy she’d met had been almost silent. She couldn’t imagine him calling her for a chat.
After chewing her lip, Arizona asked, “Is this really you, Quin?”
Flat, with no inflection at all, he replied, “Who else would it be?”
If only she had a few minutes to think, or if she’d anticipated this—but she’d gone straight from waking, to wanting Spencer, to indulging her first full-participant carnal encounter—with no time for configuring various scenarios about her performance of the night before. “I don’t know. What happened to Joel? Did he get hurt in the fight?”
“I can not say.”
“What about Terry Janes?”
“Again, I do not know.”
She chewed her lips, weighing his answers, trying to find the truth in them.
At her continued silence, he asked, “You did not want me to call you?”
“Sure I did.” But the circumstances had all changed. She didn’t need to get closer to him now, because thanks to Dare, it was shut down. Permanently.
Quin was safe. Or…at least he should have been.
Why hadn’t they gathered Quin into the net, though? Why wasn’t he in some kind of safe house, getting questions answered? Being reunited with loved ones? She’d thought—
“Candy? Are you still there?”
“Yeah.” She had to get it together. Now. “Sorry. I drank way too much last night and I’m still a little hungover.”
“I know. I saw.” With sympathy, he added, “You had no choice but to drink, and I had no choice—”
“It’s okay.” Quin had to play along, or he’d be hurt. She got that. “So I don’t have a job?”
“You truly do not remember?”
“I remember I got hired.” Without any real despondence, she added, “Bummer that the job is gone.”
He drew a breath, then shattered what remained of her cool composure. “Do you think I could see you, Candy?”
Oh, no, no, no.
“See me?”
“We could meet somewhere. And…talk. I can tell you about the raid, explain all that has happened. I could even help you find another job. A better job.”
She needed a viable excuse, and she needed it fast. She needed a plan even more. “Umm…”
“It is important that I speak to you,” he stressed, and a certain strain sounded in his tone. A strain of desperation. “I…I need your help.”
“Okay, yeah, I’ll try.” To stall for time, she asked, “Will you give me a number where I can reach you?”
Another long pause and more shuffling. “The best that I can do is a pay phone. Will that work?”
“Sure.” She snatched a pen and paper from her purse. “Where is the phone?”
“It is in the south side, by the gravel pit. Away from the bar.” He read the phone number to her.
Not a great neighborhood, but she was familiar with it, so that was a plus. Was he hiding out there? Or setting up an ambush?
She could scope out the area, find the best way in and out of the locale, all the side streets and dead ends. And using the program Jackson had given her, it’d be easy enough to check up on Quin’s info.
She pressed him, asking more questions. “Is it by a business? Someplace that’ll make it easier for me to find it?”
“There is a pawn shop. Harry’s Hocks.” He drew an audible breath. “You cannot miss it.”
“When?”
“Today,” he suggested in a rush. “Right now, even.”
“Sorry, no can do.” She wanted to help him, but she wasn’t a fool. “I already have other plans.”
He fell silent for such a long time that she thought he might have hung up. Then he asked, “Tomorrow, then?”
“Sure, I can probably do that.” Somehow she’d figure it out. “What time?”
“Noon.”
Because he hadn’t taken a single moment to think about it, Arizona knew he’d already had that time specified to him.
But by who?
Knowing he was pressured made up her mind more than anything else could have. Guessing how Spencer and Jackson, even Dare and Trace, were likely to react, Arizona closed her eyes. “I’ll be there. And, Quin?” Even though he wouldn’t understand, she said, “Don’t worry too much, okay?”
She waited, but he didn’t answer. The phone died with a soft but deafening click.