All the Right Places (RILEY O'BRIEN & CO #1) (18 page)

Nothing inflated a man’s ego—or his cock—more than a woman who wanted to tear off his clothes. Quinn laughed softly as Amelia fumbled to open the buttons on his fly, both amused and aroused by her eagerness.

“I want these off,” she panted, tugging at his Rileys.

“I have a better idea,” he countered. “Let’s take off
your
pants.”

Nodding eagerly, Amelia stepped back to toe off her shoes. He brought her back to him by the waistband of her cargo pants before flicking open the button. Staring into her eyes, he pulled down the zipper and slid his hands into her pants to cup her ass. It was both soft and supple, and he clenched his fingers in the round cheeks.

Her pants fell to her upper thighs, and she balanced herself by grabbing his shoulders as she stepped out of them. A couple of coppery curls tickled his face, and he tilted his head so he could feel the silky strands against his lips.

She leaned forward, licking and sucking the crook between his shoulder and his neck. Her teeth bit into him, and he gasped as his cock pulsed. He had the fleeting thought that he should have taken a few minutes alone to masturbate so he didn’t feel
like a rabid dog. He was afraid he’d barely get inside her snug body before he exploded.

“This is getting out of control,” he said hoarsely, a warning to himself and the curvy redhead in front of him.

Clenching his arms under her butt, he stood and picked her up in one smooth movement. He twisted his upper body, tossing her on the bed. Her hair came loose from its ponytail, the fiery curls contrasting sharply with his gray bedding.

“I’m the only person who’s slept on these sheets, so don’t say a word,” he growled before stepping back to remove his shoes.

As he unbuttoned his fly, he ran his gaze up and down her body. Pale pink areolas tipped her plump breasts, and her high-cut panties emphasized her creamy white skin and luscious hips.

He couldn’t hold back his appreciation. “
Goddamn
, Amelia. You’re gorgeous.”

Her whole body flushed at his words, and as she shifted restlessly against the comforter, her panties edged up. He held his breath, eager to see if the curls between her legs were as bright as the ones on her head, but he was denied the erotic vision.

That didn’t stop him from thinking about how wet she would be, and he fumbled a bit with the buttons on his jeans. When he finally got all of them open, he sighed in relief. It felt like he’d had an erection for hours, and his jeans had been strangling it.

Pushing his Rileys down his legs, he kicked them off. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs to remove them, too, but reconsidered. Maybe he should leave on his underwear since he was already so close to the edge.

Amelia rose up on her elbows, distracting him from his thoughts. Her big brown eyes focused on his crotch, and he grew even harder under her lustful gaze, although he didn’t know how that was possible.

She bit her plump lower lip, and the sight of that tiny gap between her front teeth made him think about what his cock would look like sliding in and out of her mouth. He took several deep breaths, hoping the extra oxygen would allow
him to muster some control over his unruly and too-long-deprived body.

“Take them off,” she demanded, her voice low and raspy. When he didn’t move, she cleared her throat. “Take them off.”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

Her eyes shot sparks at him, and her lower lip pushed out in a tiny pout, making him want to suck on it. Crawling onto the bed, he covered her body with his, moaning when his chest rubbed against her breasts.

She shifted, opening her legs, and he gasped when his cock settled snugly between her legs. He leaned down to kiss her, and when her tongue touched his, things quickly went from hot to incendiary. Her heat already scalded him, and he wasn’t even inside her yet.

Releasing her mouth, he rolled to the side and wiggled his fingers inside the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her legs. He could smell her arousal, and he was torn between wanting to taste it and plunging his cock into her.

He trailed his hand across her stomach and shifted slightly to eye her mound, smiling when he saw the hair covering her pussy was even redder than the curls on her head. Everything about Amelia was so vibrant, and he had the fanciful notion that his life before her had been as gray as his bedroom.

Quinn brushed his fingers across the springy hair, tracing the edge of her labia before sliding his finger down her wet, silky slit. When he reached the entrance to her body, he circled it tenderly until she panted. As he plunged two fingers inside her, she gasped and grabbed his shoulders.

“Does this feel good?” he asked, pumping his fingers slowly into her pussy. She nodded, and he dropped his head to whisper in her ear, “Tell me how much you like it.”

Withdrawing his fingers, he gave some attention to her hard little clit. He pressed against it, and she jerked. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and he pressed against the bundle of nerves again, making her moan.

“Should I do that again?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Please.”

He licked a trail down the side of her neck as he slipped
his fingers back into her body. He brushed his thumb lightly, so lightly against her clit, and she bucked against him.

“I need you to come for me.” He pressed harder, flicking her clit and pumping his fingers inside her. “I want you to be all hot and wet around me when I slide into you.”

She cried out his name, her pussy contracting around his fingers. She writhed against him as her internal muscles clenched rhythmically.

He waited as long as he could before pulling his fingers from her body. His head felt like it was about to pop off, and he couldn’t think of anything but plunging balls-deep into her sweet little body.

Reaching over her, he grabbed a condom from the nightstand. She took it from him as she leaned over to give him a deep kiss.

“I’ll do it.”

He tugged down his boxer briefs, and she gave an appreciative sound that made his testicles tighten. She put the condom aside and grasped his cock in her hand, her fingers struggling to reach around it completely.

“Oh, yeah,” she breathed. “You
are
bigger than average. And you definitely won’t hear any complaints from me.”

He laughed breathlessly when he recalled their conversation on the day they’d met. “I’m glad you’re pleased.” His voice was little more than a croak.

She swiped a finger across the head of his penis where a drop of fluid had oozed out, licking her lips. The sight of her wet tongue created a sharp twinge deep inside his lower body.

He lightly squeezed her hand so she’d stop touching him. He knew where this was heading, and he wasn’t going to be satisfied with a hand job. He wanted to be deep inside her when he came.

Picking up the condom, he had it on in less than five seconds. He maneuvered Amelia under him, settling his cock against her pussy. Lust made his vision hazy, and her face was all he could see.

He stared into her dark eyes. “I can’t wait any longer.”

“Then don’t.”

He pulled one of her legs around his waist and over his
back to give him more room before palming her ass with both hands so he’d be able to control how deep he went. “Ready?”

She nodded, and he thrust inside her with one deep stroke. They both moaned as he bumped against her cervix, and she gripped his ass tightly, pressing him even deeper.

Resting his weight on his arms, he squeezed his eyes shut. He knew it had been a long time, but he couldn’t remember anyone or anything feeling this good. Lights sparked behind his eyelids, and he tried to count backward from one hundred to keep from exploding.

Amelia lightly touched his face, and he opened his eyes to see a tiny smile on her lips. He bent forward to trace it with his tongue.

“You should move, just a little,” she whispered against his mouth.

“You’re bossy,” he teased. “But you need to be more specific. Do you want it deeper?”

He nudged his hips, and she gasped. “Maybe faster?” He gave a series of hard, quick thrusts that had her moaning and his heart thundering in his chest.

“Both. Now.”

“You’re also greedy and demanding.” And he
loved
it.

She slapped his ass lightly. “Watch it.”

He grabbed her hand and shackled her wrist above her head. The position pushed out her chest, and he took the opportunity to tongue her nipple, swirling around it before sucking hard on the tip.

He was rooted deep inside her body, motionless, and she tightened her vaginal muscles around him. Those tiny internal squeezes forced him to move, and he set a fast pace, riding her lush body in deep strokes. Letting go of her wrist, he moved his hand between them, finding her clit and pressing against it counter to his thrusts.

They were panting, and he sensed the telltale tingle in his lower body. It radiated out from his spine to his testicles and finally spread to his cock. He gasped, trying to hold back until she was there with him.

“Close?” He was too far gone to even put together an entire sentence, but thankfully she understood him.

“Yes,” she moaned. “I’m there.”

Her pussy clenched around his cock, and he let go, erupting inside her in a huge gush that made his vision go dark for several heartbeats. She shifted her legs higher, the movement wringing several more deep pulses from him.

He lowered himself onto her body, just for a moment because he didn’t want to crush her. He was drained, emotionally and physically, and he pressed his face into her hair.

After a few moments, he dragged himself from the bed and headed to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. Returning to his bedroom, he grabbed the top sheet from the foot of the bed and pulled it and the comforter over Amelia. She was lying on her side, her dark brown gaze locked on him.

Climbing back into bed, he faced her. She leaned forward and gave him an openmouthed kiss.

“Thank you,” she said huskily.

“If you can still talk, I didn’t do a very good job.”

She laughed softly. “I disagree,” she said before rolling over and tucking her back against his front.

She wiggled her butt against his spent penis, and he dropped his arm across her waist to pull her closer. “You can try to make me speechless later,” she suggested. “If you’re up for it.”

Knotting his fist in her thick hair, he put his lips against her ear. “If you keep pressing your sweet ass against me, I’ll be up for it
sooner
rather than later.”

Amelia woke up alone in Quinn’s big bed, wrapped in his luxurious bedding like a burrito. The alarm clock on his nightstand read 10:33, and she double-checked the big red numbers with surprise. She’d never slept this late in her whole life. Of course, she had never had so much sex in a twenty-four-hour period either.

Rolling onto her back, she stared at the ceiling. This was her first official “morning after.” She’d been eager to leave her previous lovers, and she’d never spent the night with them.

Quinn had asked her to stay, though, and apparently she was unable to say no to the man since she’d agreed to that request and so many more. She blushed at the thought of all the ways she had said yes with her mouth and her body.

She had given him everything he said he wanted, calling out his name until she was hoarse. After her fifth or sixth orgasm, she’d lost her ability to think. He’d had her over and over, including some early morning sex that sent her into a coma.

Untangling herself from the sheets, she searched the room until she found the T-shirt Quinn had loaned her. She pulled it on and headed to the bathroom, where she slipped on the panties she’d washed out last night.

As she brushed her teeth with the extra toothbrush Quinn had offered, she realized a sexy sleepover was fun until you had to put on the same underwear you’d worn the day before.

After she rinsed her mouth, she looked in the mirror. A bleat of horror escaped her at the sight, and she clapped her hands over her mouth to silence the sound. Her hair was frizzy, and ringlets protruded from her head like tiny copper snakes.

I’m Medusa!

If Quinn saw her this way, he’d surely turn into stone. At the very least, he would run screaming from the house.

She looked around frantically for anything that could subdue the terrifying mess on her head, but all she could find was a measly plastic comb. She whimpered when she remembered she had left her backpack downstairs in the living area. It held the tools she needed to get her hair under control.

Opening the bedroom door as quietly as she could, she scampered down the stairs in her bare feet, trying to avoid any squeaky boards. She peeked around the wall to see if she could spot Quinn, and when it looked like the coast was clear, she tiptoed to her backpack.

“Why are you sneaking around like Inspector Clouseau in
The Pink Panther
?”

Quinn’s deep voice startled her, and she let out a little scream of surprise. She spun around with her hands on her heart to find him leaning against the breakfast bar. Even though he wore a faded USC T-shirt and a pair of plaid flannel pajama bottoms, he looked gorgeous.

He smiled slowly, his dark blue eyes glinting with amusement. “Good morning.”

Dropping her hands, she smiled weakly. “Hi.”

He straightened and walked over to her. He smoothed a hand over her hair before putting his finger under her chin and tilting up her head. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“How are you feeling, Juice?” he asked softly, staring into her eyes. “I worked you over pretty good last night.”

She suddenly felt shy, and she dropped her gaze. Unfortunately, she now had a much better understanding of how awkward the morning after could be, and she had a hard time untangling her tongue.

“Fine,” she finally mumbled.

He laughed softly before kissing her again, a deep caress that made her insides liquid. “I hope you’re better than fine, sweetheart.”

Clearing her throat, she managed to squeeze out another word. “Yes.”

“Good. Because I thought we could play tourists today and visit Alcatraz. We can drop by the penthouse so you can change.”

“Haven’t you had enough of my company yet?”

“I haven’t had enough of
you.
” He tapped her on the tip of her nose.
“Not even close.”

•   •   •

Sighing in exasperation, Amelia leaned her elbows on the kitchen counter. “Just try it. It’s not going to kill you.”

Quinn eyed the juice she’d given him. “What’s in it?”

“Stuff that’s good for you.”

Frowning, he picked up the glass and sniffed it. He looked longingly at the cup of coffee sitting on the bar nearby.

On the drive from his house to Riley Plaza, she had agreed to make a late breakfast at the penthouse. He had asked if she had any coffee, and when she’d said no, he’d cut off another car to dart into the Starbucks drive-thru.

She’d already mixed together the ingredients for an egg white and vegetable frittata, and while it cooked in the oven, she had made some juice for both of them. She didn’t really expect him to drink it, but it was fun to tease him.

He shifted on the barstool. “I guess I should be relieved it’s purple instead of green.”

“The beets make it purple.”

He looked up, disgust filling his handsome face. “Seriously?”

She laughed. He obviously hadn’t been paying attention when she made the juice.

“No. It’s just blueberries, you big baby.”

She turned to pull the frittata from the oven, and when she glanced back, his glass of juice was empty. Her glass, however, nearly overflowed. He was sneaky, no doubt about it.

“Did you just pour your juice into my glass?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because my glass was nearly empty and now it’s full.”

He widened his eyes in an effort to look innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She gave him a look of mock outrage, and he winked at her. She pushed down a smile, knowing it would only encourage him, and turned her attention to their brunch. She sprinkled a mix of white and yellow cheddar on top of the frittata, pleased with the way it had turned out. The spinach, red peppers, and mushrooms were a colorful, tasty combination.

Plating the frittata, she added a couple of orange slices and strawberries before delivering the plates to the dining room table. He grabbed his coffee and her juice and followed her.

He pulled out a chair for her, and when she sat down, he kissed the top of her head. He was so affectionate, and she wasn’t used to being touched.

She hadn’t been with her other lovers long enough to experience the casual affection most couples shared. She hadn’t wanted it from them, but she was afraid she could become addicted to Quinn’s attention.

Amelia had grown up with little or no affection. Her mother certainly hadn’t paid any attention to her, so she hadn’t exactly been showered with hugs and kisses.

Ava Grace’s grandmother had been the only other person in her young life, and she had been more of the “spare the rod and spoil the child” mentality. In fact, Amelia couldn’t remember receiving a hug of comfort from anyone other than Ava Grace.

Amelia was physically and emotionally reserved with everyone except her best friend. She had no doubt Ava Grace would rather die than hurt her so she didn’t need to protect herself.

Somehow Quinn had slipped through her protective outer shell, though. Sometimes she forgot to be careful and cautious with him, and she’d relax enough to laugh and tease . . . to be herself. She was more vulnerable with him than she wanted to be, and it scared her.

She and Quinn didn’t have a chance at a real relationship until she stopped lying to him, and once she told him the truth, she doubted he’d want anything to do with her. Her
chest ached at the thought of how he would respond when he knew about her project with Teagan.

His low moan distracted her from her depressing thoughts. The man really loved his food.

“Whatever this is, it’s delicious,” he said, pointing to his plate before taking another bite. “Thank you for cooking for me.”

His praise gave her a warm glow. She didn’t like to fail, and she didn’t like to do things if she couldn’t do them well. That was why she’d been willing to give up the gig with Riley O’Brien when she thought Cherry hated her designs.

“You’re welcome. But you have to do the dishes.”

“That seems fair.”

While they enjoyed the frittata, she and Quinn talked about Ava Grace’s recent nomination for two awards from the American Association of Country Music. It was a big deal to win one of the awards, which were called Aces. This was the first year Ava Grace had been nominated, and she also had been asked to perform at the awards show, which was scheduled for early November.

“Have you heard Ava Grace’s newest song?”

Quinn nodded. “Yes. I like it a lot.”

“So you’re a fan?”

He shrugged. “I’m a fan of all music. I can find something to like about every song and every singer.”

“So you’re not one of those guys who constantly changes stations?”

He laughed. “No. I’m good with anything you want to listen to.”

She studied him across the dining room table. He was a lot more complicated than he seemed. He masked his intensity with banter and laughter, but she wasn’t fooled. She had witnessed it up close and personal. She’d felt it against her skin and inside her body.

They finished their meals, and she decided to help him with the dishes. They worked side by side without speaking until he abruptly broke the silence.

“You don’t have to worry, Juice.”

His words came out of the blue, and she eyed him intently. “What are you talking about?”

“Whatever we do in private won’t affect our professional
relationship.” His voice was quiet, but the sincerity was evident. “I promise you it won’t.”

She looked down, staring at the damp dishcloth in her hands. If she were concerned solely about her lack of professionalism, his words would have gone a long way toward soothing her.

“Do you really think that’s possible?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I don’t.”

She had been very stupid to think she could have sex with Quinn without it impacting every other part of her life.

“Amelia, we can keep things just between us. No one has to know if you don’t want them to. Not Teagan. Not Cal. No one.”

His efforts to reassure her spoke volumes about the innate decency she had recognized in him, and she felt even worse about her deception. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to ignore the voice in her head. It reminded her that she didn’t have to lie to Quinn if she was willing to give up the redesign and turn down Teagan’s offer to fund her boutiques.

“I know you believe what you’re saying. I just hope you’re right.” She tossed the dishtowel on the counter. “I’m going to take a shower and change.”

As she turned to walk out of the kitchen, Quinn hooked his fingers in her waistband to stop her. “How would you feel about some company?”

She shivered at the thought of some sudsy sex with him. It was a fantasy she’d had for a few weeks now, and she just didn’t have the willpower to turn him down.

“What about Alcatraz?” she asked.

“Alcatraz has been standing for more than one hundred years, and I’m pretty sure it will still be standing no matter what time we get there.”

Moving behind her, he pulled her to him. She could feel his erection, and her knees trembled a little.

“I hope you’ve got plenty of soap,” he said, pressing his hard length against her, “because I’m feeling really dirty.”