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His nostrils flared and his teeth clenched and Hannah knew he was struggling to control his hunger. She raised her hips again, trying to get closer and he bit his bottom lip until it turned white. His words rattled from his throat, “We need to get something straight in this marriage, right from the start.”
His finger pushed harder and Hannah closed her eyes as delirious pleasure consumed her. She barely managed to speak, knowing she’d agree to anything. “Okay.”
His grip left her knee and slid down to take her hand away from his body. He captured her wrist and lifted it over her head, imprisoning her to the bed as he loomed over her, his finger still buried inside of her. His head fell to the side of hers, his mouth at her ear. “You’re mine. You belong to me, heart, body, and soul.”
Hannah panted harder. “Yes.”
“No one will ever touch you, not now and not in the future.”
She swallowed and mewled in the back of her throat, dying to feel him inside of her.
“Say it, baby.” His voice was hard.
“Just you,” she rasped, a warm, sweet ache building and threatening to spill over.
“Say it baby, repeat it.”
“No one—” Hannah’s brain was gone, her thoughts scattered in all directions.
“No one will ever touch me. Say it.”
“No one will ever t-touch me.” Her voice broke as a rush of wet heat enveloped her.
His hand left her body and he brought the head of his penis to her wet opening and hung over her, ready to penetrate her. “That’s good, sweetheart.” He pushed in an inch, to the point where he was stretching her and then he stilled. He lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist and then found her other hand and pulled it above her head, holding her in a clasp she couldn’t get away from, a clasp she had no desire to get away from. “Now say, I belong to Josh Turner.”
A river of molten heat hit Hannah and she swallowed and tried to concentrate. “I belong to Josh Turner.”
“That’s right, princess.” He strained above her, not giving her anymore and Hannah grew frantic to feel all of him.
He held her hands with one strong hand and brought the other to her chin and lifted it gently but firmly. Her eyes flew open and she found him staring down at her, the scars on his face pronounced with the lines of arousal tightening his skin. They pressed together, staring at each other, pulling oxygen in and out of their lungs. “You want to be my wife?”
Hannah felt her eyes fill with tears of joy and she began nodding her head frantically.
His features softened. “Then say it,” he whispered.
Her eyes clung to his. “I want to be your wife.”
Pure satisfaction crossed his face as his eyes narrowed on hers. Hannah was pierced with a thousand points of light as he tightened his grip and slammed into her, joining their lives and making them one.
Chapter Eighteen
Josh breathed a sigh of relief as he walked inside the Redwood Falls bank. He was back on duty now, and had left his wife at home with his aunt and uncle, temporarily, until they could get their own place. The visit had gone well and he was still vibrating from the hum of having Hannah as his wife. The fact that his aunt and uncle were happy about the marriage was the icing on the cake. Diana already loved Hannah; finding out they were married had been a surprise, but a pleasant one. Hannah’s parents were fine with the marriage, but they weren’t happy they hadn’t been included. They’d have to get over it. Josh was disappointed to learn Katie was on an extended vacation with a friend from work. There would be no problems in that corner, he knew. Katie might worry about Zachary McIntyre’s reaction to the news, but she herself would be pleased for them.
As Josh stood in line he glanced around the building. It was a small bank and the only one in Redwood Falls. It had received a facelift since the last time he’d been in here. His money was direct deposited and he used a debit card for his transactions, so he rarely had to actually visit the bank. His pay as a deputy sheriff was adequate, and combined with the fact that his need for money was small, Josh’s account balance was steadily growing.
He had come in today to pick up the paperwork to add Hannah to his accounts. He was waiting his turn behind a farmer who he vaguely recognized, when Mr. Whitfield, the president of the bank, came up to him and offered his hand.
“How’ve you been, Josh?” the man was probably in his mid-sixties and had a jovial voice.
Josh shook his hand. “Fine, sir. And you?”
“Very well, son. The town thanks you for your service. Everyone is very proud of you and we all feel safe with you wearing the badge.”
“Thank you and you’re very welcome.”
“If you have a minute, I’d like to speak to you in private.”
Josh felt a mild curiosity slide through him from the request. “Sure, now is good, I just need to get my wife added to my account.” He couldn’t control the sound of pride in his voice when he elaborated, “I married Hannah McIntyre a few days ago.”
“Hannah McIntyre?” Josh could tell the banker was surprised. “No, I didn’t know. She’s a sweet little thing.”
“Yes sir, thank you.”
The older man clasped him on the shoulder. “I can get that paperwork going for you. Let’s go in my office and talk.”
Josh turned and followed the other man into a large office with a mahogany door that the banker closed behind them. He sank down in one of the two leather chairs in front of the man’s desk and waited while Mr. Whitfield settled himself down and took a few strokes on his computer keyboard.
There was silence for a few moments until the man cleared his throat and began talking in a deep voice. “Son, like I said before, we’re all proud of you in this town. You took yourself from your humble, trying beginnings, and pulled yourself up by your bootstraps. I’ve got something to show you here, but first let me say that confidentiality precludes what I can and can’t tell you. Let me just show you first, and then I’ll tell you a little story.”
Josh was becoming increasingly puzzled by the banker’s words and whatever it was on the screen the man was looking at. His stomach muscles tightened in anticipation of receiving a hit, although the man’s tone of voice didn’t indicate the need for self-protection.
The printer began a buzzing noise and Josh waited until a piece of paper was placed in front of him. He scanned it quickly and his brow creased in confusion. It initially looked like a statement of an account belonging to his father, an account that had over three hundred thousand dollars in it.
Shock made Josh’s voice harsh. “What does this mean?”
“This is yours, son,” the banker said, indicating the account with a wave of his hand. “Your father died without a will, but when he set this account up years ago, he set it up with you as not only a cosigner, but a co-owner.” As Josh tried to wrap his mind around what was happening, Mr. Whitfield continued, “You might even remember coming in here to sign papers. If my memory serves correctly, you were only eleven or twelve at the time. Of course, there wasn’t much money in it back then. But, obviously, things are different now. So it’s nice that this account doesn’t have to go through the courts, or probate. It’s legally yours and has been since your father passed away. Since you haven’t come in here for some time, and the account has been inactive, it occurred to me that you probably didn’t know about it.”
Thunderstruck, Josh sat in stunned silence a moment, knowing that wherever the money came from, it was no doubt tainted in some way. Finally, he was able to get his vocal chords to work. “Where’d it come from?”
Mr. Whitfield leaned back in his desk and clasped his hands behind his head. “Well, now, that’s where my tale comes in. You need t
o be armed with knowledge so you can make appropriate decisions. I can tell you where this kind of money might have come from. But, mind you understand, I can’t give out confidential personal information, so you might have to extrapolate a bit, and you didn’t find this out from me.” he answered.
“Go on,” Josh urged.
“You may or may not know some of what I’m going to tell you. Bear with me, please. When your father—left town with—” The older man’s words came to a crashing halt when he must have realized how the situation had taken a new twist with Josh’s recent marriage to Hannah McIntyre.
Josh lifted his hand to his forehead and rubbed at the tension between his brows. “Yeah, I know who he ran off with. Please, just go on.”
“Your father wanted money when he left town with … her.” The banker’s words stopped again.
Josh grunted in frustration at the delay. “And? What’d he do? Rob your bank?” The tone in his voice was satirical, he was only half joking.
Mr. Whitfield took the question seriously. “No, not that.” He paused, drew a deep breath and continued, “Well, suppose there were two brothers. Two brothers who had inherited equal amounts of land and then farmed it together as one entity. Suppose one of those brothers wanted to sell out, to raise cash … maybe to leave town. Well, the other brother might not want that to happen. The second brother might have taken out a mortgage for the land in question. The first brother received the money, the second brother got the land, although it would be heavily mortgaged.”
Stunned, understanding immediately what had transpired, and pissed at his father once again, thinking that the motherfucker was now haunting him from his grave, Josh ran his hand through his short hair. “Jesus Christ.”
Both men stared at each other while Josh took in the ramifications of what he had just found out. He cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to understand. “And the only reason there’s any money left is because the first brother died before he could spend it.”
“Seems like that could be the case, yes.”
“I’m not going to delude myself with a fairytale about how my father wanted me to have the money,” Josh said harshly.
