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Over his shoulder, Leia saw his friends’ worried glances. She wanted to say something reassuring… but she was fresh out.
Noah settled her on the bed and drew her tight into his arms. A sharp knock on the door made him tense.
“Yeah?” Noah snapped.
Gabe walked in with a bottle of Macallan whiskey and two glasses. He placed them on the nightstand and looked down at them. “You need anything, you call. Before or after you do something stupid. We’ll have your back either way.” His gaze shifted to Leia and he sent her a crooked smile. “Good night, princess.”
He left quietly.
They lay in silence for several minutes, Noah passing his fingers through her hair and sliding his hand up and down her body, as if reassuring himself that she was all right. Against her breast, his heart thudded into his ribs.
She looked up to see his face contorted in a mask of anger.
“Noah, I’m okay,” she ventured.
His fist slammed into the headboard. “He got to you, Leia. The bastard got to you right under my fucking nose.”
She twisted in his arms and wrapped herself tight around him. “Please, don’t do this to yourself.”
He caught her by the shoulders and rolled her beneath him. His eyes blazed with fury and self-recrimination. “What if he’d talked his way around that idiot at the front desk? He could’ve entered your condo… hurt you…” His voice fractured.
She speared her hand through his hair, the other sliding around his waist. “But he didn’t. He didn’t get in. And I’m still safe. Here with you.”
His hands shook uncontrollably as he cradled her face. “God, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you.” A broken sound rumbled from his throat.
They stared at each other for a single heartbeat.
Then he was kissing her. Desperately. Ravenously. He devoured her like she was the answer to world famine, plunging his tongue into her mouth to dominate hers.
Her numbness fled, replaced by the blanketing heat and sustenance of Noah’s attention. The pictures of the dolls flashed intermittently behind her lids, sending shudders through her body. At her gasp, Noah raised his head.
“Look at me. See only me,” he commanded.
Nodding frantically, she raised her mouth to his. He offered her what she needed, pressing back the horrific images and replacing them with his essence. She tore at his clothes, and he helped her undress him. When he was naked, she clamped her thighs around him and scoured her nails up and down his back.
Rewarded with his predatory growl, she offered him more. Her mouth, her tongue, the wet hunger between her legs.
Her panties came away with one rough rip. Her top met the same treatment but, desperate for each other, he pulled up her skirt and thrust hard inside her. They held their breathsthrough the harsh storm of sensation, their eyes staring deeply into each other.
When her need clawed through her, she moved her hips.
He met her thrusts, slammed her repeatedly into the bed. One hand drifted down her side, seeking her tattoo. When he found it, he caressed the words.
He gritted his jaw and clamped a hand around her throat. “I won’t let him break us, Leia. I won’t lose you. I won’t.”
26
Noah’s eyes popped open a second before his phone beeped. Silencing it before it woke Leia, he read the message.
Terrace. Now.
Tugging on his jeans, he didn’t bother to speculate on how his PI had gotten inside his condo. But he fully planned on tripling his security asap. Right after he tore a few heads off at the concierge desk in the morning.
Paddy sat in one of the deck chairs, cradling a glass of bourbon.
Noah took a seat across from him. The sky above was an inky black with a smattering of stars.
“Since you’ve helped yourself to my expensive booze, I’m assuming you have news?”