All the Right Places (RILEY O'BRIEN & CO #1) (17 page)

Quinn stared at her unblinkingly as she swallowed. She felt icing all over her lips, and she looked for the napkin that had been in his hand, but it was gone.

“You look like a clown with a big brown mouth and a curly red wig,” he said, cocking his head to the side.

She was torn between mirth and indignation. “That’s
so
rude.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, laughing softly. “But
so
true.”

He reached out to wipe some icing from her upper lip and brought his thumb to his mouth to lick it off. She couldn’t pull her eyes from his mouth, and her stomach turned warm and liquid.

Quinn repeated the movement, slower this time, dragging his thumb against her lower lip before sucking the icing off his finger. She jerked her attention from his mouth and met
his eyes. The desire burning in his blue gaze made her knees tremble and her heart pound.

Dropping his cupcake to the ground, he shaped her face with his palms. “You taste better than anything we’ve had here today.” He leaned forward. “Let me have another taste,” he whispered against her mouth before stroking his tongue along the seam of her lips.

She opened to him, and he plunged his tongue inside her mouth. Letting go of her own cupcake, she fisted his shirt and sucked on his tongue. His chest was hard and hot, and she wanted to tear open his buttons and run her hands all over him.

“You’re sweeter than sugar,” he rasped.

He gave her several deep kisses, sucking and licking at her lips and tongue until she panted. He drew back, his chest heaving.

“You promised to keep your hands and your mouth to yourself,” she murmured, uncertain if the reminder was for Quinn or herself.

He leaned his forehead against hers. “I know,” he replied, but he didn’t apologize.

As Quinn wrapped his arms around her, she dropped her head to his chest. He rubbed her back with his big hands, and the soothing motion relaxed them enough for their breathing to return to normal.

Nuzzling her hair, he kissed the top of her head. She stood within his embrace, feeling a bewildering mix of peace and arousal. Somehow she knew that she would never feel this way about anyone else. She had never known anyone like him.

One moment he embodied the classic bad boy, sexy and intense, and the next, he was the proverbial golden boy, easygoing and kindhearted. She found the contrast fascinating and addicting.

And irresistible.

She wanted to be with Quinn, and she finally gave herself permission to take what she wanted. She told herself it would be okay. She told herself
she
would be okay no matter what happened.

Maybe he would embrace the work she was doing for
Teagan. Maybe he wouldn’t feel she’d gone behind his back. Maybe her heart wouldn’t end up broken and in pieces under his booted feet.

Maybe.
And in this moment, maybe was good enough.

She gave a gentle push to his chest so he’d loosen his hold. He was still close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes.

“Do you live near here?”

His gaze sharpened, and he nodded slowly. “Pretty close. Just a few miles away.”

“I’d like to see where you live.”

Amelia stood in Quinn’s large living area, trying not to look as awkward as she felt. She had a hard time dealing with spur-of-the-moment decisions, and even though she had fantasized about him, coming back to his house definitely had not been premeditated.

She turned in a slow circle to get a good look at Quinn’s personal space. It wasn’t anything like she had expected.

For one thing, he lived in a house, and she had been sure he was a high-rise condo kind of guy. Unsurprisingly, the fact that she’d been wrong about his living arrangements made her feel even less certain about getting naked with him.

His Victorian was gorgeously maintained, although very obviously lived in. Although he was a bachelor, his house lacked the single-guy vibe. Instead it felt comfortable and cozy, and under different circumstances, she would have found the space relaxing and inviting.

She tensed when Quinn moved to stand in front of her. He waited, still and silent, until she met his gaze. He extended his hand toward her face, and she flinched in nervousness. Halting mid-motion, he let his hand fall back to his side and gazed deeply into her eyes.

She was so annoyed with herself. She hadn’t been this
anxious when she’d been a virgin or when she’d had sex with Neal, the guitar player with the talented fingers.

She knew she was being stupid. She wasn’t afraid of Quinn, yet she acted as if he were a Viking who had gathered forces to raid her village. She laughed nervously when she realized the analogy wasn’t too far off, although her “village” was between her legs.

A high-pitched giggle emerged from her mouth, and Quinn nodded as if he agreed with someone. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hand through his hair.

“Juice, I think we should go and grab some dinner. Do you like Chinese? There’s a pretty good place just down the street. Their moo shu pork is really tasty.”

Moo shu pork? He wants moo shu pork?

When she didn’t answer, he sighed loudly and reached out to wrap a big hand around the back of her neck. It was so hot against her clammy skin that she shivered.

She let her head drop forward against his chest, and he kneaded the tight muscles of her neck for several moments before speaking. “Amelia . . . Sweetheart, you asked to see my house, and now you’ve seen it. We don’t have to do anything else. There’s nothing to worry about.”

His voice was quiet, soothing. She could hear his heartbeat, a steady thump that proved he was much calmer than she was. She didn’t know if that made her feel relieved or not. At the festival, she’d thought he was as turned on as she was.

Why am I the only one who’s nervous?

She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he stiffened slightly, briefly halting the neck massage before resuming the gentle motion. He settled his other hand on her lower back just above her butt, a possessive and protective action that made the knots in her stomach loosen.

“If you don’t like moo shu pork, we can get Mongolian beef or sweet-and-sour chicken.”

Pulling back, she looked up into his face. His eyes were dark and serious, not even a tiny glint of humor.

“You want to go out to eat right now?” she asked incredulously.

He frowned. “No. There are a lot of things I want to do instead of eating Chinese food.” He paused meaningfully, his
voice deepening. “I want to strip you naked and put my hands and mouth all over your body. I want to be so deep inside you that you scream my name until your voice is gone.”

His voice faded to a husky whisper. “I want to make you come so many times you forget who you are and where you are. I want to take you over and over until the pleasure feels like pain.”

His raspy voice and raw words sent a flood of lava-like desire through her. She swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat so she could respond, but he stepped back, putting more space between them.

Holding out his hands, palms up, he shrugged his shoulders. “But I’m trying to be a decent guy here, Juice. I don’t think you’re ready for this. And I don’t want you to regret it.” He pointed to himself with his thumb. “Because
I
won’t regret it. And I’ll probably want to do it, and
you
, as often as possible.”

When she didn’t respond, he continued. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

His honest words shocked her. She must have a poor opinion of men in general because she had expected him to be annoyed. She had been so sure he would try to persuade her to get naked, and she never imagined he, or any other guy, would be understanding.

Apparently, he was willing to wait until
she
was ready, despite the fact that he obviously was raring to go. How astonishing.

How
wonderful
.

His attitude made her want him even more. And interestingly, his restraint convinced her that she wasn’t making a mistake.

“I understand,” she finally said. “But you’re wrong.”

His dark eyebrows rose. “About what?”

“You said I’ve seen your house, and that’s not entirely accurate, is it? I’ve only seen
part
of your house. I haven’t seen your bedroom.”

He gazed at her intently before his lips quirked in a slow, sexy smile. His eyes heated, and he closed the space between them until they touched. Reaching out, he gently rubbed her bottom lip with his thumb.

“That was clearly an oversight on my part.”

“Clearly,” she agreed. “Do you plan to address it?”

“Yes. Immediately, in fact.”

Tilting his head toward the staircase, he extended his hand to her. She took it, allowing him to lead her up the hardwood stairs, which were slick and shiny from decades of foot traffic.

He brought her to the door at the end of the hallway and ushered her in. She let her gaze wander around his bedroom. Decorated in shades of gray, it was almost monochromatic except for the clean lines of licorice-colored wood furniture.

His king-sized bed was situated against the longest wall, its tall headboard inset with black leather panels. Two nightstands flanked the bed, each boasting a lamp with a clear glass base and gray shade. A seating area near the bay window on the far side of the room featured two tall-backed chairs upholstered in gray velvet, while a long dresser with an attached mirror occupied one wall.

All in all, the room was masculine without being oppressive. And it would have been gorgeous if not for the fact that it was so messy.

The bed was unmade, and the light gray sheets were tangled as if he hadn’t slept well. Or maybe he’d been with someone the night before. She shot a censuring look toward Quinn, and he laughed at the mix of disapproval and dismay she didn’t bother to hide.

“I didn’t expect company,” he admitted.

“If you’ve had
company
recently, then we need to change the sheets.”

Her remark made him choke on his laughter. “What?” he sputtered.

“You heard me.”

Staring at her in disbelief, he shook his head. “I told you that I don’t have one-night stands. And I haven’t had
company
,
as you so delicately put it, in a while.”

She eyed him skeptically.
How long was “a while”?
She wanted to ask, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. She hadn’t been with anyone since Neal, and that had been more than a year ago.

He frowned when she didn’t respond, and after a moment,
he stalked back into the hallway. She heard a cabinet door open and slam shut before he returned to the room with a set of sheets identical to the ones on the bed.

“While I’m changing the sheets, I want you to take off every piece of clothing you’re wearing,” he ordered as he made his way toward the bed. “The moment I finish, I am going to throw you on this bed, and you’re not going to get off of it for a good long while.”

Pulling back the duvet-enclosed comforter with one hand, he tossed it over the footboard, his movements quick and economical. When he noticed she hadn’t moved, he dropped the stack of clean sheets on the bed and pointed at her.

“Why are you still dressed?”

She recognized the look on his face. “I’m making you crazy again, aren’t I?”

He propped his hands on his hips, an aggressively masculine stance. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes.

“God,
yes
, you make me crazy.”

Amelia joined Quinn by the bed. She unsnapped the first couple of buttons on his checked shirt before he gripped her hands.

“Uh-uh. You first,” he demanded, grabbing the hem of her T-shirt and whipping it over her head. He didn’t move for a moment, just stared down at her breasts in their midnight-blue bra.

After years of buying clothes in thrift shops and underwear in cheap discount stores, she now had the money to splurge, and she liked lacy, girly underwear. The set she wore was one of her favorites, a deep demi-cup and cheeky panties. She was so glad she’d worn them today because they made her girls look bigger and her butt look smaller.

Quinn ran the tips of his fingers across the lacy edge of her bra. The fleshy pads were slightly rough, and her breath caught in her throat as he moved them closer to her cleavage.

He abruptly jerked his hands away and turned to sit on the side of the bed. Widening his legs, he pulled her in between them. The new position put her breasts right in his face, and he murmured his appreciation.

“
This
is the best view in the city,” he said reverently, making her smile.

She ran her hand over his hair, the strands silky and cool against her palm, and traced his hairline with the tip of her finger. His eyelids fell as she touched his face, and she noticed his long, spiky eyelashes.

He opened his eyes, and they stared at each other, their faces only inches apart. His dark blue gaze was hazy with desire.

For me.

She leaned forward to kiss him, and he wrapped his arms all the way around her, pulling her closer and deeper into the V of his legs. As their lips met, he palmed her butt cheeks and squeezed. The unexpected gesture made her gasp and pull back slightly.

“Sorry. Too hard?”

She shook her head, and he rubbed the spots where he had squeezed. “I love your ass,” he breathed. “It’s so round and delicious, and I can’t wait to get you out of these pants so I can touch it skin-to-skin.”

A strangled laugh escaped her. “I hate my butt. It’s too big.”

He shook his head. “No,” he countered fiercely. “You can’t hate something that makes me hard every time I see it.”

Well, when you put it that way . . .

Leaning forward, he placed tiny kisses on the corners of her mouth. “I don’t want to let go, so you’re going to have to take off your bra. I need to put my mouth on you.”

His words made her nipples harden. Quinn was a talker, and it made her
hot.
Her panties were already soaked, and he hadn’t even touched her below the waist. And he was still fully clothed, something she needed to remedy immediately.

“Not yet,” she said, shaking her head. “You need to give me something first.”

A naughty smile crossed his face. “What do you have in mind, Juice?”

In response, she unsnapped the rest of the buttons on his shirt and spread it open, uncovering a strongly muscled chest and well-defined abs dusted with fine, dark hair. She pushed on his shoulders to get his attention.

“You need to let go so I can take off your shirt.”

Releasing his grip on her butt, he shrugged off his shirt,
the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexing. After tossing it on the floor, he pulled her back to him.

Reaching into her cleavage, he unhooked the clasp of her bra and pulled the lacy cups away from her breasts. Once freed, they bounced into his face, and he moaned at the sight, a deep sound that made her break out in goose bumps.

“Bring one of those sweet nipples to my mouth.”

She protested. “But I want to touch you.”

“Later,” he growled. “Now give me what I want.”

Cupping one of her breasts, she fed him a plump nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, and she moaned at the exquisite feeling of his hot mouth. Blood rushed through her veins, and her skin flushed from the heat of it.

He licked and sucked until her nipple was pebbled, and she brought her other breast to his mouth. “Good girl,” he murmured against her nipple, squeezing her butt cheeks again. She would have bruises there tomorrow, and perversely, the thought made her even wetter.

He tongued her nipple until it was so tight and hard it was almost painful. He bit down gently, sending a spark of pleasure from her nipple straight to her center. She didn’t want to wait even one more second to feel him inside her.

“Quinn,” she gasped. “You need to take off your pants.
Now.
”