Bound to Them (5 page)

Nash loved Quinn, despite the fact he could be a real
asshole. But could Nash trust him?

“I made a mistake.” Quinn sighed. “I pushed away the best
thing in my life because I was too scared to even try to make it work. But I
refuse to believe that you feel nothing for me anymore. I refuse to let you go.
I’m sorry.”

“Damn it, Quinn.” Nash slammed his fist down on the table,
rattling the glasses. That drew a few glances from those closest to them and he
sat back, waiting until they had all turned around again. “You can’t just
suddenly change your mind and expect everything to be all right.”

“You’re right,” Quinn agreed immediately, watching Nash
steadily.

Nash calmed slightly, unclenching his fists.

“All I’m asking for is a chance to show you that I want you
in my life. Forever,” he said, his face filled with determination. “And I think
there’s a possibility that Crista could be a part of that too.”

A few weeks ago Quinn had been terrified of his feelings for
Nash, of what people would think of their relationship, their lifestyle, and
now he was ready to just jump into a threesome? What the hell had happened to
him? As much as the idea might appeal to Nash, and shit did his cock think it
was a grand idea, he wasn’t about to risk Crista being hurt by Quinn’s
impulsiveness.

“You realize what you’re talking about, don’t you? A
permanent threesome. Because she is not a woman you can walk away from. She is
not some cheap hook-up,” Nash told him angrily.

“I know that,” Quinn replied, his voice taking on a wounded
air. “I see the way you look at each other. You care about her. You’re
attracted to her. And I am too. I think she could be important to both of us.”

Nash slid him a sideways glance. “You’re really interested
in her?” he asked. “I thought maybe you were pretending to make me jealous.”

Quinn snorted. “I thought the same thing about you. I’ll
admit I had thoughts of drawing you back to me by using her. But she doesn’t
deserve that. She’s not like other women. She’s special.”

Kayla had dropped hints about Quinn having been hurt by a
woman in the past, but Quinn had never mentioned her to Nash.

Quinn ran his hand over his bald head. “Look, the more I get
to know her, the more I fall for her. Am I attracted to her? Hell, yes. Do I
want her between us, beside us, with us? God, yes. And you feel the same,
right?”

Nash’s feelings were in turmoil. He gazed down at the table,
trying to pull his thoughts together. For a man used to being in control, to
taking the lead, it was strange to feel so confused.

“And if the two of us can’t be together then she’ll be stuck
in the middle,” he said. “Not fair to someone as sweet and innocent as she is.”

Quinn took a deep breath. “If that happens then I’ll step
away. I’ll leave the two of you.”

Nash gaped at him. “What? Why?”

“Because I would rather be miserable and know that the two
of you are happy. I want you to be happy, Nash. I owe you that much at least.”

Nash shook his head. Could he take this risk? Could he stand
to lose Quinn again? Probably not. But would he forever regret not trying?
Definitely.

“Look,” Quinn said almost desperately. “I know that I’m
asking a lot. I know I don’t deserve a second chance. I know I’m not perfect,
and I’m bound to fuck up from time to time. But I love you. I know we could be
happy.” Quinn grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze before letting go. A
surge of heat raced through Nash, his stomach dropping as pleasure enveloped
him. “I don’t intend for us to hide who we are. People will just have to get
used to us.”

Nash just raised a brow.

Quinn sighed. “I want this. Us. A home together. Will I have
moments of doubt? Sure, but once I make up my mind about something I throw all
that I am into it. I’m a bit stubborn like that.”

Nash snorted. “A bit?” But a home. Something he’d been
craving for years. Could he really have everything he’d dreamed of?

“Tell me something. Why did you always stay at the motel?
Why not move in with one of us?”

Nash shrugged. “Moving in with you would’ve been awkward and
I didn’t want to cramp Cord and Kayla.”

“Bullshit,” Quinn told him. “Why don’t you try the truth?”

“What? Suddenly you’ve become all communicative and open?”
Nash asked angrily.

“I’m trying,” Quinn said tiredly.

“I guess I prefer motels. I can come and go as I please.”

“You weren’t ready to make Seattle your home.”

“No, I guess not.” Nash looked him straight in the eyes.
“I’m not a city boy, never have been. I always feel suffocated in them.”

“Why stay so long then?”

Nash glared at him. “Why do you think?” He took a small
amount of pleasure in how red Quinn’s face grew. “I would’ve tried to make
Seattle my home. For you. You know that’s just another mark against us being
together, right? I mean, I’m a simple country boy, I don’t belong in the city.”

Quinn let out a bark of laughter. “There’s nothing simple
about you. Look, we can work all of that out. Let’s just try. Please.”

Nash saw the sincerity in his eyes. Quinn’s hands clasped
his glass tightly, his knuckles white. This meant a lot to Quinn. And it meant
a lot to Nash too.

“I’m an idiot for agreeing to this.”

Quinn smiled wolfishly.

“And I’m not convinced that Crista is ready for the two of
us. It’s not fair to use her as a buffer between us if we start fighting. We
need to take things slowly. It’s enough to deal with the two of us being
together without involving Crista. Deal?”

Quinn nodded. “Deal.”

They shook hands. Nash didn’t make a move toward anything
more physical, figuring Quinn wouldn’t be ready for that kind of public display
of affection.

Quinn slung his arm over his shoulders, surprising the hell
out of Nash as he drew him close and kissed him full on the lips. A brief kiss
that probably no one else saw, but warmth lingered on Nash’s lips.

They were silent for a long moment, sipping their beers.

“What do you suppose Crista meant when she said she’d been
hit before?” Quinn asked.

Nash had been worrying over that comment all afternoon. “I
don’t know. I’m going to ask her about it tomorrow. If someone has hurt her, I
want to know about it.”

“Well, speak of the devil. What is she doing here?” Quinn
growled.

Nash turned, his gaze narrowing in on the woman entering the
bar. And she was all woman. No baggy t-shirt and ill-fitting pants hid her body
now. The little black dress she wore displayed her beautiful hourglass figure
perfectly. The material hugged her chest, floating out around her thighs.

As she turned toward them, his breath caught in his throat.

Lord, just look at those breasts. Two beautiful mounds he
wanted to kiss, lick, caress. Part of him wanted to demand she never hide them
again. The possessive part of him wanted to cover them up, insist that they
were for his and Quinn’s eyes only.

Short red heels added a splash of color to the outfit. If
she were his, he’d dress her in bright colors. Not black. She was too vibrant
for black. She glanced around apprehensively. Nash clenched his fists. Crista
had no business being here alone. He could already see the wolves circling.

“Christ, they’re already making their move.” Quinn nodded
over at a couple of idiots who’d zeroed in on her, obviously taking her for an
easy mark.

Nash stood as Quinn did. They quickly strode over to Crista.
All thoughts of taking things slow fled. Now it was time to show everyone,
including Crista, that she was very much taken.

“Hey, baby,” Quinn greeted her. Stepping between the two
men, he pulled Crista against his side. She glanced up at Nash, who smiled at
her darkly, satisfied as she gulped nervously.

“Umm, hi,” she said quietly.

“You know these guys, babe?” The smaller of the other two
men asked.

“Ahh, yes, I work with them.”

“Oh, so they’re just colleagues,” the other guy said,
grinning slyly. Nash could smell the alcohol on his breath from where he stood.
“How about you come dance with us, baby? We’ll show you a good time.”

Crista looked from him to Quinn nervously. “No. Thank you.
I’d rather not.”

Nash shook his head. Now was not the time for her to be
polite.

The two drunk men ignored her rejection, the larger guy
reaching out to snatch her hand.

Nash grabbed the man by the arm before he could touch her.
“Back off. She’s with us. I suggest you go looking elsewhere. Got me?”

“She didn’t come in with you. How do we know you ain’t
bothering her?” the smaller one asked.

“Crista, tell our Good Samaritans here that we’re not
bothering you,” Nash ordered.

“I’m fine. I know these guys and they would never hurt me,”
she said firmly.

The smaller one continued to glare at them. Small man’s
syndrome for sure. But the other guy grabbed his shoulder. “Come on, man, she’s
not worth it. There’s plenty of pickings tonight.”

The little guy finally bought a clue and backed off with a
sneer.

Nash faced Crista. “Just what do you think you’re doing
here?”

Crista lowered her gaze, feeling as if she were a naughty
child caught with her fingers in the cookie jar. Reminding herself she was an
adult who answered to no one, particularly not two of her employees, she
straightened her shoulders. “That is none of your business. You can go back to
whatever you were doing.”

“Now that’s not very nice. Not when we just saved you,” Nash
said.

She frowned. “Saved me from what?”

“Those jerks.”

Crista placed her hands on her hips. “Look, I could’ve
handled that myself. I’m not some helpless child who needs supervision.”

“No, a child you’re definitely not,” Quinn agreed with a hot
look. Her breath caught in her throat. “But you are out of your league here,
sweetheart. You come in here looking like sin on two legs and you’re just
asking for trouble. No way are we leaving you here alone. Now why don’t you
tell us why you’re here so we can help?”

With an impatient sigh, Crista folded her arms over her
chest. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve come to find my brother.”

Quinn frowned. He cuddled her close, surrounding her with
his scent, making her feel almost petite. Where her skin met his, there was
tingling, warmth. She shivered.

Nash stared down at her with knowing eyes. Surely he
couldn’t realize how turned-on she was, could he?

His gaze dropped to her chest. She looked down, blushing
wildly as she realized her nipples were pressing against her dress. How
mortifying. Crossing her arms over her chest, she attempted to hide the
evidence of her arousal.

“Have you seen Doug anywhere?” she squeaked nervously,
trying to move away from Quinn. He simply held her tighter.

“Yes, he’s over there.” Nash pointed to the far corner of
the room. “But you don’t want to talk to him right now.”

“Why not?” she asked, frowning in confusion.

“Because you won’t get a sensible answer. He’s had a few.”

Crista snorted. “If I waited for Doug to be sober I’d never
talk to him. Excuse me, please.”

Surprisingly, Quinn let her go. Feeling foolishly bereft at
the loss of his touch, Crista turned away and walked over to the dark corner
Nash had indicated. The back of her neck itched and she glanced over her
shoulder. Drat. They were right behind her.

She took a deep, steadying breath when she reached Doug. He
sat at a table with three men she didn’t know.

“Doug,” she said. He didn’t even look up. “Doug,” she said
louder, very aware of Nash and Quinn standing behind her.

“Crista.” Doug spoke cheerfully, smiling goofily up at her.

Great, he was in a good mood. He wasn’t always a happy
drunk. Sometimes he’d sink into a depression while other times he’d become
downright nasty.

“What you doing here, honey? Do you want a drink?”

“You know I don’t drink, Doug,” she said impatiently.

His mouth immediately drooped. She had to be nicer about
this. Hard as that was.

“Doug, can I talk to you in private?”

“Sure. Guys, give me a minute with my sister, will ya?” he
asked the men sitting with him. With a grumble, they left. Crista took a seat
and then frowned at Nash and Quinn, who sat on either side of her.

“I want to talk to my brother alone,” she insisted.

“Not while he’s like this,” Quinn replied, frowning at Doug.
Her clueless brother smiled back, completely unaware of the anger in Quinn’s
gaze.

Crista didn’t understand his anger. Folding her arms over
her chest, she glowered at them. They might be able to keep her off-center and
shaken when it came to her reaction to them, but she was no pushover.

Nash leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, and
winked. Quinn slouched back, sending her a lazy smile that was disturbingly
sharklike. Great, these two took stubborn and arrogant to a whole new level.

Giving them one more disgruntled look, she decided to ignore
them as she turned back to Doug.

“Doug, Sam turned up at the site today. Did you really tell
him that he could come by and get some money he thought he was owed?” Part of
her hoped Sam had lied, even knowing he probably hadn’t.

Her brother looked at her from under droopy eyelids. “Yeah,
he said we did.”

“Doug, you can’t do things like that without checking with
me,” she said, exasperated. “We didn’t owe him anything.”

“Oh.” Doug frowned. “Well, Sam’s a good guy. I’m sure he’ll
give us the money back.”

“Doug, I fired Sam. He is not a good guy. He stole from us.”

Nash turned to her, grabbing her chin in his hand. She
peered up into his angry gaze. “He stole from you? Why didn’t you call the cops
on him?”

She shifted nervously, turning her face. He let her go. “I
don’t trust the police.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize,” Doug said, clearly surprised. Then
he shrugged. “Oh well, no harm no foul, right?”

Doug raised his glass to take another sip. Quinn grabbed her
brother’s wrist, forcing his hand down.

“What the hell?” Doug muttered.

“No harm?” Quinn said in a low, dark voice. “No foul? The
bastard hit your sister. Are you too drunk to notice the bruise on her cheek?
You made that happen.”

Doug gaped at her. “I hit you?”

“No, Doug,” she said gently, feeling sorry for him. “Sam
did.”

“It might as well have been you,” Quinn insisted. “Instead
of protecting your baby sister, you sent some asshole around who hurt her. What
kind of man are you?”

“Quinn,” Crista scolded. “Doug, I know you didn’t mean for
me to get hurt…” Her voice trailed off at the misery in her brother’s eyes.

Doug simply stared at Quinn, shocked. He turned to look at
Crista, his gaze caught on her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Crista. You know I’d never hurt you for the
world.”

“I know, I know, Doug.” She grabbed his hand, squeezing
tightly. She couldn’t tell him about all the times he’d gotten nasty when
drunk. Even then though he’d never touched her physically. But words could
hurt.

He rose, weaving unsteadily. “I’ve got to go, I don’t feel
well.”

“Doug, wait.”

She shifted, ready to follow him. Nash grabbed her hand.
“Let him be.”

“But—”

“He’s ashamed of himself,” Quinn said. “He wants to be
alone.”

She glared at Quinn. “You didn’t have to be so hard on him,”
she snapped.

Quinn stared back at her, his gaze thoughtful. Crista
struggled not to look away. What was wrong with her? She fought to hold on to
her irritation.

“He needed to be told. Now let it go.”

The firm instruction did something weird to her insides. The
power he radiated made her stomach drop and set her clit dancing.

“He’s my brother. Butt out.” They continued to glare at each
other, the heat between them making it nearly impossible to breathe.

“Come on.” Nash grabbed her hand as he stood, squeezing
gently. “I think we’ve all had enough excitement for the night.”

“Oh.” Disappointment smothered her arousal. What did she
think this was? A date? Yeah right. She should be pleased to get away from them
and their domineering attitudes. “Okay then,” she agreed.

Crista stared longingly at the people dancing to a Trace
Adkins country tune. What would it be like to have the confidence to walk out
onto that dance floor and start rolling her hips? Crista loved to dance, but
other than a few weddings and school functions, she’d never actually danced in
public. Or with a man. Family didn’t count.

Quinn watched Crista as she gazed hungrily at the dance
floor.

Shit.

“Would you like to dance, darlin’?” Nash asked her, but his
gaze held Quinn’s, pure devil swimming in his eyes.

Bastard
, Quinn thought ruefully.

Crista bit her bottom lip, making Quinn groan. She stared up
at him innocently. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about him,” Nash said as he pulled her toward
the dance floor. “He’s just got hip problems.”

“Hip problems?” she asked as Quinn followed them.
“Arthritis?”

“No, darlin’. No rhythm.”

“Oh,” she said, giggling as Nash twirled her under his arm.
He drew her close to his chest, swaying.

Suddenly Quinn wished he danced. Then it would be him
holding her close, feeling that decadent body in his arms. Nash dropped his
hand, resting it just above her shapely butt. Crista jerked then settled down
when he didn’t move his hand any lower.

Ahh, stuff it.

Quinn stepped in behind her, trying to move his hips in time
with theirs. Worry about his skill flew straight out of his head as her body
grinded against his, pressing against his cock, writhing against him
intimately.

Sweet ecstasy and nasty torture all wrapped into one. Each
brush of her butt had his dick begging for attention. He fought to gain some
control over his arousal—otherwise he was at risk of coming in his pants as
though he were some randy teenager on his first date. The pained pleasure on
Nash’s face told Quinn he was feeling the same way.

Crista jiggled her hips, innocently teasing them. Their
groans made her glance up with concern.

“Oh no, I didn’t stand on your toes, did I?” she asked,
slowing down her movement. “I’m sorry, I haven’t really done this much. Perhaps
I should go home now.”

“What? Wait.” Nash grabbed for her as she attempted to
escape. “You didn’t stand on our toes, darlin’. Quinn stood on mine. No rhythm,
remember?”

“He did not.” She smiled up at Quinn. “He’s a very good
dancer.” She patted his chest as if to soothe his feelings. Quinn wondered how
she’d react if he asked her to pat him lower. Actually, he’d best cut this
short now. Having them both so close wreaked havoc with his control.

“I’m kind of tired,” Crista said a few minutes later, trying
to hold back a yawn unsuccessfully.

“Okay, darlin’, we’ll leave,” Nash told her, looking over at
Quinn, who nodded in agreement. Crista looked dead on her feet. Time to get her
home and tuck her into bed.

She gazed up at them, surprise evident in her wide eyes.
“You guys don’t have to leave with me,” she protested.

“We’re tired too,” Quinn lied.

Crista eyed them. “No, you’re not. I’m a big girl, you know.
I can walk myself home.”

“You walked here?” Nash asked loudly.

“Yes, why?” she asked, her voice filled with innocent
surprise. Anger surged through Quinn as he thought of everything that could’ve
happened to her, wandering around the streets in the dark.

Quinn grabbed one hand while Nash latched on to the other
and they steered her out to the parking lot.

“Hey, guys, slow down,” she exclaimed, pulling at their hold
on her.

Both of them stopped. Quinn glanced down into her
disgruntled face.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking by myself,” she insisted,
although she avoided eye contact.

Quinn tucked a finger under her chin, raising her face.
“Crista, you can’t walk around in the dark by yourself. It’s too dangerous.”
She would give him a heart attack. She really would. The thought of her being
assaulted made him ill.

“Why didn’t you drive?” Nash asked with frustration as they
steered her toward Quinn’s Jeep. They’d ridden over together, united in a
common cause—to beat on Doug. Well, okay, Quinn had wanted to beat on him. “Not
that your car is all that safe. It’s a rust bucket. I’m surprised it passed its
last inspection.”

“There is nothing wrong with my car,” she protested.

Quinn unlocked his Jeep, climbing in the driver’s side as
Nash helped her into the passenger seat. Nash got into the back.

“You know, you two are very bossy. Especially considering
that I’m your boss!”

Crista’s shy side was retreating. This new Crista was
mouthy, obstinate and bratty. Quinn really liked her.

Not that shy Crista didn’t stir both his heart and his dick.
When she bit her lip or lowered her gaze in submission, she could make him hard
instantly. But this bratty side… Well, all the more reason to spank her, right?
Her scent filled his car as he pulled out of the parking lot. Clean, pure
arousal. Damn, he knew it. She was wet. She had to be.

“No way could we just drive home, knowing you were walking
around in the dark. You have to take better care of yourself,” Quinn told her.

“And you’re only the boss at work, darlin’. Outside of work
hours, you’re ours.”

She turned a panicked gaze on him. “What exactly does that
mean?”

“It means we want you, Crista Grayson,” Nash threw down the
gauntlet. “And we intend to have you.”

* * * * *

It means we want you, Crista Grayson.

Surely they didn’t mean it? Crista rolled over, thumping her
pillow as sleep eluded her. Looking over at the bedside clock, she groaned—2:21
a.m.

She sat up. No way she’d be getting any sleep tonight. Not
with arousal riding her. She wanted them, couldn’t stop thinking about them
and, try as she might, she simply could not bring herself off.

Goddamn it.

What would it be like, having the two of them touch her,
taste her? One driving deep into her mouth while the other penetrated her
pussy. Taking her together.

Her hottest fantasy. Two men. Two mouths. Two cocks. What
wasn’t to like? A threesome might not be everyone’s dream but just the idea
drove Crista wild.

Urgh. Why torture herself this way? They must have had more
to drink than she’d thought. That was it. They were drunk and she’d been the
closest female around.

They couldn’t seriously want her.

She bet neither of them was losing sleep over that statement.
Right now they were probably sleeping peacefully, not a worry in their heads.

* * * * *

Nash bit Quinn’s nipple, knowing he enjoyed the mix of
pleasure and pain. Quinn had an amazing body, wide and thick with muscle. Hard.
Hot. Heaven. Nash licked down his firm stomach.