Back Against the Wall

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Tony scowled at her. “Probably not, but—Damn it, Beth, I wish you’d kept that to yourself.”

  “It’s so frustrating not to be able to remember!” she cried. “Maybe there isn’t anything to remember. We all get that déjà vu feeling out of the blue.”

  “We do,” he said on a sigh, “but this is different. You knew these people. You could have seen her lover showing your mother another drawing, or she left one out and you saw it. You were in and out of the pediatrician’s office. Could some of his own art have hung on the wall in the waiting room or even his office? What about the others? Did you ever go with your mom to the law firm or get invited into the bank manager’s office?”

  Frustrated, she only shook her head. “I don’t think so. You need to show the drawing to Dad. If any of their friends—or supposed friends—was that artistic, wouldn’t the subject have come up?”

  “Yeah.” Tony seemed to brood for a moment. “You’re right. Maybe I’ve underestimated him.”

  “I think I did, too.” Beth told him some of what her father had said when they had talked earlier. “I think he was ashamed of himself.”

  “He should be,” Tony said bluntly. “And I know you don’t like it when I criticize any of your family members, but he used you. He’s still using you.”

  She swallowed. “Or I enabled him.”

  “Don’t turn this around so you can blame yourself. Go on out to the mall, Beth. Loiter near a group of teenage girls. Take a really hard look. You were a kid just like them, at least until you had to become the adult in your family.”

  Her chin rose. “How’s the pressure your parents put on you any different?”

  He didn’t move, maybe didn’t even breathe. “In one way it wasn’t,” he said finally. “The difference was I always knew if I let down one of my sisters or brother, it wasn’t a big deal. My parents were there being parents. My attitude would have been different if I’d really been needed. If Dad had died earlier—” He shook his head. “You had to step up because nobody else would.”

  “You can’t have it both ways. Haven’t you been telling me Dad would have had to be the parent if I hadn’t made it easy for him to keep on the way he had been?”

  “No,” he said quietly. “Enabling, that’s your idea. He may be dysfunctional in some ways, but he just told you he was aware of what was happening, and he chose to let you make sacrifices to make his life easier.”

  She opened her mouth—and closed it. Because he was right. In one way, she’d been touched to have her father let her know that he did appreciate what she’d done. What she hadn’t entirely recognized was her resentment.

  It was funny because at the time she hadn’t felt any. She’d been scared, desperate to hold her family together, to make everything as much like it had been as she could. But sometime in the intervening years, she’d brewed her own bubbling pot of anger.

  “I don’t like being angry!” she burst out.

  “I know. Hey, come here.”

  His rueful smile caused a meltdown. She pushed back her chair and went around the table to be met with open arms. Tony helped her settle on his lap and cuddled her close. He had the most amazingly comforting shoulder. Except comfort wasn’t all she felt. The view of his strong neck and jaw, the shadow of stubble, lips that looked so soft, had heat curling inside her. She suddenly wanted to kiss his throat, maybe even lick that copper-brown skin, discover his taste. Feel the roughness of his cheek under her own lips.

  “Tony?” she whispered.

  He bent his head to see her face. “Hmm?”

  “No. Never mind.”

  “Now you have to tell me what you were going to say.” His long fingers slipped into her hair.

  “I was being silly. I guess I wanted...reassurance.”

  The groove in his cheek deepened with a smile. “You need to hear that I think you’re the sexiest woman alive? Again?”

  Beth snorted. “I won’t believe you at all if you lay it on that thick.”

  “You can probably tell how I react every time I touch you,” he said, his voice an octave deeper than usual.

  She had noticed the hard ridge against her hip. She wanted to stroke her hand over it. Even the idea gave her a cramping sensation between her thighs. She clenched them tighter to contain it.

  “Yes.”

  “But that’s not what you were talking about, was it?”

  She shook her head against his shoulder.

  He didn’t respond for a minute, although his arms tightened. “This guy would be a fool to go after you. It would be like waving his hand in the air and saying, ‘I did it.’” He paused. “I do wish your sister hadn’t painted a target on your back, though. It makes me not want to take my eyes off you.”

  Beth straightened, bracing herself with a hand flattened on his chest. “You’re supposed to be reassuring me, remember?”

  “I’m...feeling a little distracted.” His eyes darkened, if such a thing was possible. “Maybe kissing you will help.”

  She tipped her face up in silent answer. Please.

  He took her mouth, but gently. Brushing his lips over hers, waiting until she strained upward before doing it again. Sucking her lower lip into his mouth had her gasping. She gripped the back of his neck and held on, returning each caress, each nip. When he stroked his tongue into her mouth, she dug her fingers into the hard muscles on his chest.

  The kiss became hungry, making her feel as if she’d needed him forever. His urgency was reassurance, if not what she’d asked for. He truly wanted her. Nobody had ever kissed her like this, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if touching her could push him to his limits.

  He lifted his head, looking at her with such intensity Beth heard herself make a small, broken sound. Then she seized her opportunity and kissed his neck. His skin was salty and something else that tasted inexplicably male. She nibbled and kissed her way up to the scratchy jaw that had so tempted her. All the while, his eyes blazed down at her.

  One of his hands squeezed her waist. The other closed over her breast, lifting, shaping. His hips pushed up, and he groaned.

  “Beth?”

  “Umm?” She rubbed her cheek against his, loving the contrast in textures.

  “If this isn’t going anywhere, I think I need to stop.”

  She went utterly still, disappointment flooding her. “You don’t want...?”

  * * *

  DON’T WANT? Did she really not get it?

  “I want,” he said harshly. “Too much.” Even as he spoke, his thumb played with the hard nub of her nipple. He couldn’t seem to make himself take his hand from her breast. “I’m sorry. I usually have better self-control than this.”

  “Oh. I want you, too.”

  His muscles locked. She was going to explain again that this was too soon, and Tony knew it was for her. But, damn, he was on the edge. Having her full hip pressing against his cock, her lips on his skin, her nipples hard, had him feeling like a sixteen-year-old boy who’d put his hand on a woman’s breast for the first time. Self-control was not in that boy’s capability.

  The fingers on his neck stroked, then kneaded. She had strong hands. One more thing to turn him on.

  “I’m not on birth control,” she said shyly.

  “I have a condom in my wallet.” He wished he had two. Once wouldn’t be enough. When he got home—

  “Do you...always carry them?”

  Tony shook his head, his mouth brushing her hair. “Only when I’m in a relationship.” He smiled crookedly. “Or hoping. I don’t do bar pickups.”

  “Do you do bars?”

  The sexual tension hadn’t eased, but he was able to laugh. “No. A lot of cops I know do—Edgar’s, near the police station, is a favorite. Me, I’ve broken up too many brawls, seen the results of drunk driving too many times, investigated too many deaths in tave
rn parking lots to find them very appealing.”

  “I should send you home, but I don’t want to.”

  His brain was hazy enough that it took him a second to untangle that. “You mean—”

  Beth nodded, and he surged to his feet with her in his arms. “This chair is a little too hard for what I have in mind.”

  “You’re a detective. Can you find my bedroom?” she teased.

  Laughing again, he strode toward the short hall. He felt sure this was a one-bedroom unit and was proved right. Bathroom on the left, bedroom on the right. He barely had an impression of the room, beyond creamy white walls, art and textiles adding color and a bed that had to be full size, with an antique spool bed frame and a fuzzy, butter-yellow spread. Too short for him, but they’d manage.

  To slow himself, he resisted the temptation to drop her on the mattress and come down on top of her. Instead, he lowered her to her feet, her body sliding along his. The pleasure of feeling every soft curve had him gritting his teeth.

  He framed her face with his hands and asked gutturally, “You’re sure?”

  Beth bobbed her head, her gaze shy but eager, too.

  “God, I want you.” Despite his determination to be gentle, this kiss went ballistic from the beginning. It was as much her fault as his. She pushed herself up, her tongue tangling with his, her body rubbing against him. Desperate, he wrenched his mouth away long enough to strip her knit shirt over her head. He bent her back and sucked her breast through her bra, but enough brain cells were functioning for him to realize belatedly that it had a front clasp. One flick and it fell open.

  Her breasts were glorious, luscious swells of creamy flesh topped with generously sized areolae and taut nipples. He licked one nipple, then had to have her flat on the bed.

  Beth squeaked when he lifted her but, when he zeroed in on her breasts, she blocked him with both hands. “Shirt off.”

  Oh, yeah. Fortunately, he was wearing a polo shirt, which he could rip right off, but he also had to remove his holstered gun and badge. He tossed them on the bedside table along with his belt and phone, pulled out his wallet and removed the condom, then let the wallet fall.

  She looked as fascinated with his chest as he was with hers. He teased and suckled until her hips rocked. Her hands moved the whole while, tangling with his chest hair, teasing his flat nipples, squeezing muscle.

  Tony didn’t even remember disposing of the rest of their clothing. Naked, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, a man’s dream come true. Slim and yet rounded in all the right places. Long legs. He tore himself away from her breasts and her mouth to explore those legs, kissing the arched bottom of her feet until her toes curled, running his mouth up smooth calves, tickling the tender flesh behind her knees. The skin on the inside of her thighs was so silky, his fingers and mouth lingered, until he was drawn upward to nuzzle the moist curls.

  She gripped his hair and gasped. He lifted his head to see her alarm, which made him smile even as he continued stringing kisses upward. Had no man ever put his mouth on her that intimately? That primitive side of him was pleased. Next time, he told himself. Once this wasn’t so new. Hipbones, belly with a tiny bit of give, ribs that felt delicate beneath more smooth skin.

  While he sank into a luxuriant kiss, he slipped his fingers between her folds, finding her wet and so responsive, his need intensified. He twisted away to don the condom, then went back to kissing her as she clutched at him.

  Her legs fell open at the slightest nudge. The blood roared in his ears as he eased his way inside her. Once he was deeply seated, he hesitated.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

  Blind with need, he pulled out and drove deep again, and again. She planted both feet on the mattress so she could grip him with her thighs and push up to meet his every thrust.

  Her throaty cries and the feel of her fingernails biting into his back ripped away any tattered remnants of self-control. He was lost, their bodies rocking, him on the brink. He hooked an arm around one of her thighs, pulling it higher—and she began to spasm around him. He let himself go, slammed by a release so powerful, his mind shut down.

  When the stunning pleasure finally ebbed, he couldn’t even manage to roll to one side.

  * * *

  TEARS PRICKED BETH’S EYES as she wrapped her arms around the hot, male body pressing her deep into the mattress. Wonder and tenderness filled her. So that’s what it’s supposed to be like. She loved having Tony sprawled atop her, somehow vulnerable in a way she’d never seen him. His weight felt so good, she held on tight when he groaned and tried to move. “Don’t.”

  “I’m crushing you.” His voice was deep, creating a vibration against her breasts.

  “No.”

  He rolled anyway, but took her with him, so that she remained snug against his body. “That was amazing,” he murmured, as he rubbed his cheek on her head.

  “Yes.” She’d call it an understatement, at least where she was concerned. Extraordinary for her might be average sex for him.

  A faint buzzing came from the bedside table. He lifted his head, reached over her for the phone and touched the screen to open a text. After reading it, he said a word she was sure he wouldn’t use in front of his mother and let his head fall back on the pillow.

  “Your job?”

  “No.” His chest rose and fell on a long sigh. “My sister. Eloisa. Her husband’s out of town. My mother says Eloisa isn’t answering her phone. She’s been so nauseated she’s losing weight instead of gaining, and her little boy is too young to know to answer her phone if mommy has collapsed.”

  “Oh. You’d better go.” She only hoped he wasn’t making up an excuse to extract himself from her bed.

  “Yeah. Let me try her. She may just be dodging Mamá.” One ring followed another, nobody picking up. “Damn.” He kissed her cheek and sat up, making a grumbly sound. “I’m sorry, Beth. I don’t want to leave.”

  She managed what she thought was a credible smile. “I hope your sister is okay.”

  “Me, too.” He found his knit boxer shorts and pulled them on, followed by his pants and shirt.

  Feeling ridiculously shy, considering his hands and mouth had explored so much of her body, she slipped out of bed and started getting dressed, too. Out of the corner of her eye, she was very aware of Tony putting on his socks and shoes before feeding his belt through the loops on his pants. The badge he shoved in a pocket, but he snapped his holster back on. She hadn’t had very many men in her bed, and watching him do such everyday things gave her unexpected joy.

  Unless he was running out on her.

  She slipped on flip-flops, perfectly adequate to walk him out. She’d kick even those off once he was gone. She liked going barefoot at home.

  On the way to the back door, he said, “I should help you clean up.”

  “Don’t be silly. It won’t take a minute.”

  The cool night air felt good, so she stepped out on the concrete landing with him. A three-quarter moon hung high in the sky. It would have been a romantic night to go for a walk or a drive. But, no. Tony gave her a hasty kiss, said, “I’ll call you in the morning,” and loped toward his pickup truck.

  She watched as he backed out, wondering if he so much as glanced back through the rearview mirror as he drove away down the alley. Probably not; he had to be more worried about his sister than he’d let her see.

  He had turned the corner and gone out of sight when a crunch on gravel close by made her pulse leap. Beth spun toward the sound, except one of the flimsy flip-flops didn’t pivot. Tangled with it, she was stumbling when she saw the tall, dark shape swinging a baseball bat at her head.

  Chapter Twelve

  BETH SCREAMED AS she fell forward, a whip of wind lifting her hair when the bat passed above her head. Even as she crashed painfully to her hands and knees, she kept screaming. She wante
d to scrabble away, but this monster out of the darkness had to be readying another swing. So instead, she flung herself at him.

  The crack of bone and searing pain sent her down again, her fingertips barely grazing his pants. This time, she rolled but bumped up against her own concrete stoop almost immediately.

  Back porchlights came on and voices called out. Running footsteps approached, and her attacker bolted. She saw his back as he crossed the alley at an angle, almost beneath a streetlight.

  Then a young man was crouching at her side. “Jesus. Are you all right?” He raised his voice. “Has anyone called 9-1-1?”

  “I did,” a woman answered. “What happened?”

  “Call again. Make sure they know we need an ambulance.”

  Beth had never felt pain like this. It was all she could do to keep herself from whimpering. “Arm,” she whispered.

  At his tentative touch, she cried out.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  Was she?

  He dropped to his knees beside her and talked to her, telling her she’d be fine, he’d broken a leg once and it hurt like hell but once it was casted, it quit hurting. She could have people sign her cast, he told her.

  She realized at some point that she was gripping his hand, and then that he was the guy who played his music too loud but right now was being so kind she’d never mind again.

  A patrol car reached them first, and she told the officer she’d been assaulted by a man swinging a baseball bat. “He ran away. That way.” She managed to point. “Tell Detective Navarro. Just here.”

  He went to his car and talked on his radio. An ambulance finally pulled up. She must have passed out when the two EMTs lifted her onto a gurney because the next thing she knew, she was being unloaded at the hospital.

  Someone asked who they could call for her. She wanted Tony, but what if his sister had collapsed? Besides, they’d be contacting him anyway. She gave them Matt’s name and phone number, then endured as a nurse washed grit from her raw hands and knees with a stinging solution.

  No, she had no known allergies to medications.