A smile flirted with the corners of her mouth and she leaned forward, pressed her lips against his chest. “I’m not changing my mind,” she murmured, her breath a soft caress through his shirt.
“I thought you didn’t want anything complicating your life right now.” He cradled the back of her head in his hand, tangled his fingers in her hair, and tugged until she looked up at him.
She swallowed. Something flashed in her eyes. Then she smiled again, an easy, confident smile that matched her light and flirtatious voice as she murmured, “Maybe I realized it didn’t have to be all that complicated.”
“Trust me, Sara . . . if I put my hands on you the way I want to, it’s going to get complicated.” Hell, it was already complicated—for
him
. Against the back of his fingers, he could feel the soft, warm flesh of her belly and he used his thumb to stroke her skin.
A sigh shuddered out of her body and she closed her eyes. When she looked back at him, a rush of nerves appeared in her eyes. “As complicated as my life already is, maybe I won’t notice one more complication.”
“Oh, you’ll notice this one,” he muttered as he covered her mouth with his.
He’d damn well make sure of it.
It had been years since Sara had done anything remotely like this.
Years.
Maybe never. She had an impulsive nature, but when it came to some things, she was . . . well, reserved. Sex was one of those things. She wouldn’t have called herself overly cautious, but when it came to men, she tended to take her time. Look before she leaped. Not always, though.
Now her life was in upheaval and wasn’t at all conducive to romance. She wasn’t made for casual sex and yet the way she lived . . . well, casual was about all she could handle.
So now she was careful. Now she was cautious. Now she was all but celibate.
For two years, she’d lived a lie, letting caution and fear dictate her every step.
Tonight, though, she was going to be impulsive—in ways she hadn’t ever been impulsive. Tonight she was going to be reckless—in ways she hadn’t ever been reckless.
Tonight she was going to listen to desire, listen to need. A need that burned hotter and hotter with every passing second.
He held her hand—something so seemingly innocuous, but as they walked, he stroked his thumb along her inner wrist. Each light brush set her pulse all a-jitter.
She followed him down the narrow stairwell that led to his apartment, fighting to level out her breathing.
She wanted this.
There was no question about it.
But nerves were dropping down on her like leaded weights, nerves, old fears, and worries that never really wanted to die, no matter how hard she tried to bury them.
You barely know this guy.
You can’t
afford
to get to know this guy.
Why in the hell am I getting ready to have sex with some guy I hardly know?
Why does he want me?
What if I disappoint him?
Damn it, what kind of panties am I wearing? Shit, when did I shave my legs?
She followed him inside and leaned back against the door as he hit a light switch. When he turned to look at her, the voices clamoring for attention inside her head faded away into nothingness and there was only one thing that mattered.
The way he looked at her.
Like he saw only her.
Like nothing else existed.
Like she was every bit as beautiful and perfect to him as she wished she really was.
Flags of color rode high on his cheeks and those gray eyes glittered as he stared down at her. The heat of his body, so close to hers, was like a blanket, and she wanted to press herself against him, wanted to get lost in that heat.
He braced his hands on the door by her head and leaned in, nuzzling her neck.
“You sure about this?” he whispered, raking his teeth over her neck.
Turning her head, she brushed her lips against his cheek and said, “Haven’t we already gone over this?”
“Just wanted to make sure.” He lifted his head and gave her one of those faint grins. Then he dipped his head, nipped her lower lip, and added, “Trying to be a gentleman here, for a second at least. Don’t worry. The second’s over.”
She didn’t even have a chance to catch her breath—his mouth came crushing down on hers while his hands flew over her body. He stopped kissing her only long enough to strip her shirt away and then his mouth was back on hers. She gasped into his kiss as he cupped her breasts in his hands, dragging his thumbs over her cotton-covered nipples.
They throbbed, ached.
“Fuck, I love your body,” he muttered as he kissed a blazing line down her neck. At the same time, he jerked open the button of her jeans. The zipper sounded terribly loud as he lowered it. He stripped her jeans off, pausing just long enough to fight with her shoes.
She figured it might have taken him all of forty-five seconds to strip her down to her bra and panties. Maybe. Dazed, she leaned her head back against the door as he went to his knees in front of her and pressed his mouth against the cotton that covered her sex.
“Love the way you smell,” he whispered, lifting his head to stare up at her.
Their gazes locked and held as he slid his hands inside the waistband of her plain white cotton bikini panties and stripped them down. Still staring up at her, he leaned in and nuzzled the tight, light brown curls that covered her mound.
Sara’s legs wobbled under her and she braced her hands on his shoulders, staring down into his storm-cloud eyes. The vivid blue and black bruise ringing his left eye didn’t do a thing to detract from how utterly beautiful he was to look at. If anything, it added to his harsh, uncompromising beauty.
He licked her, using his tongue to open the lips of her pussy and then teasing her clit with the tip of it. He groaned against her. The hungry male sound vibrated through her and she felt it all the way down to the soles of her feet. His hand, callused and rough, but oh so gentle, came up, gripped her calf, and then stroked higher and higher.
Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she just barely managed to keep from crying out when he pushed two fingers inside her and started to pump, in . . . out . . . all the while stroking her clit with his tongue.
“Damn it, Quinn, please . . .” she whimpered, reaching down and fisting her hands in his hair. The overlong, wheat blond strands felt like silk against her hands and she tugged him closer, arched against his mouth as he used his tongue in just the right . . . “There, please . . . just like that . . . oh . . .”
Hot and spicy-sweet. Now that he had the taste of her on his tongue, he wanted more. A lot more. Quinn groaned as he covered her clit with his mouth and sucked on her. She whimpered, panted, and whispered, hot, sexy little demands and pleas that set his already heated blood to boiling.
“Please . . . right . . . oh . . .”
As he worked her closer and closer to orgasm, her words became more and more broken. Right before it would have been too late, he stopped.
Sara snarled at him and reached for him. Laughing, he caught her wrists and stood. Pressing her hands back against the door, he bent and brushed his mouth against hers. “I’m going with you.”
Then he stepped back and dealt with his own clothes. He had to leave her standing by the door long enough to dip into the bathroom. When he came out, saw her standing there, still leaning against the door wearing nothing but a lacy white bra, his heart just about stopped.
Fuck—she was perfect. The white bra kept him from seeing her completely, but damn, there was no doubt in his mind, she was perfect. Pale, creamy skin, a narrow waist, and those hips that had been driving him insane for days. Weeks. Pale brown curls covered her mound, and he could see moisture gleaming there. She wasn’t very tall, but her legs seemed to go on forever and just like the rest of her, they were perfect. She was soft skin, soft curves, and so fucking female.
A grin curled her lips as she watched him watching her. A faint blush pinked her cheeks, but she didn’t look away and she didn’t try to hide herself either.
Her eyes lowered to the box of condoms he held in his hand. “If you plan on coming with me, you better hurry.”
“Why?” he asked, tearing the box open and pulling out the strip of rubbers. He tore one off and tossed the box onto the table before going back to her. “You going to go without me?”
“I just might.” A mischievous grin curled her lips, and she rested a hand on her belly, gliding lower and lower until the tips of her fingers brushed against the curls between her thighs.
Quinn’s hands shook as he ripped the foil packet open and pulled out the rubber. Staring at her hand, he muttered, “Let me see.”
The blush on her cheeks deepened. Then, her lashes lowered over her eyes and she started to stroke herself, circling her fingers around her clit.
Mesmerized, he watched her hand as he rolled the rubber down over his cock. The rigid flesh jerked under his touch and need screamed inside him.
Her fingers moved, quick and sure, stroking her clit. Her breathing sped up and then a soft, broken whimper fell from her lips and his control broke, falling to shreds around him. One long stride had him close enough to touch. Stooping low, he wrapped an arm around her waist and then straightened his legs. “Hold on,” he muttered against her lips.
Her head fell back and she stared at him, her breath coming in harsh, ragged little pants. Her nails dug into his shoulders. Tucking the head of his cock against her entrance, he pressed against her. She closed around him, tight, slick, and hot. Through the thin barrier of the rubber, he could feel her heat, feel how soft she was. How fucking tight . . .
She clenched around him, the silken hot flesh rippling around his cock.
Take
—
It was a driving rhythm pulsing through his head, the need to take, take, take, but she was so tight . . . he retreated, then slowly sank back inside her.
Slow. Nice. Easy. Slow . . .
he told himself.
Sara arched against him, wrapping her legs around his hips and tightening them, urging him deeper. “Easy, girl,” he whispered against her mouth.
“Don’t want easy.” She caught his lower lip between her teeth and said, “Want you.”
Want you
—
With a growl, he gripped her waist and held her steady as he drove deep, impaling her on his cock. Sara cried out. He went still.
“Am I hurting you?” he demanded.
“No . . . oh, no . . . again, do it again,” she pleaded, sliding a hand into his hair and tugging his head down until she could kiss him. A hot, greedy, hungry kiss.
Greed, hunger—
“Fuck nice and easy,” he muttered.
“Fuck nice and easy,” she agreed. She bit his lower lip and then added, “Fuck me
hard
.”
Hard.
He took her hard, took her deep. Harsh ragged breaths filled the air, echoed with the slap of flesh against flesh. He caught her behind the knees with his arms, holding her open. He stared down at where they joined, watched as he drove his sheathed cock into her pussy. The sight of it, watching himself take her as it happened, was enough to kick his hunger into overtime. Growling, he dipped his head and kissed her again.
Starving—fuck, he was starving for the taste of her. For the feel of her. She writhed in his arms, rubbing her breasts against his chest. Naked. Damn it, he needed her completely naked and he’d forgotten about the damn bra. Dragging his mouth away from hers, he rasped, “Your bra’s in the way. I want to see you . . . all of you.”
She let go of his arms and reached for the cups of the bra, shoving them down until the cotton and lace bunched up under her breasts, lifting them higher. Her nipples were dark pink and tight. She tugged him back to her and rubbed herself against him. The soft mounds pressed flat against his chest. She shivered and sighed.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, sliding her hands up over his arms, along his shoulders until she could lace her fingers behind his neck. “I love the way you kiss me.”
Quinn rubbed his lips against hers. “How do I kiss you?”
“Like you’re starving for me . . . like you don’t ever want to stop.”
“I am starving for you.” He nipped her lower lip and licked her. “I don’t ever want to stop. Open for me, pretty girl . . . let me in.”
As their mouths met, each seeking the other, he leaned into her, shifting higher until he could stroke his body against her clit every time he sank inside her. She arched against him, crying out into his mouth, while her pussy clenched around his cock.
The muscles in her belly started to spasm—he felt them jumping under her soft skin. Her pussy hugged him, clutching around his dick, gripping him with a milking caress.
“I want you to come for me,” he whispered against her mouth. She was close . . . so close to coming. He could feel it, in the way her pussy convulsed around his cock, the way her body tensed and tightened, fighting his possession and at the same time, demanding more.
She was close . . . but she fought it. He could see in her eyes that she was fighting it.
“You coming with me?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
As though that was all she’d been waiting for, she started to come. Her pussy rippled around him, tightened and clenched and stroked. As she cried out, he swallowed the soft, whimpering sounds.
His own orgasm bore down on him and he gave himself up to it, lost himself to her. Shuddering, shaking, he collapsed against her as the most powerful climax of his life took hold of him.
NINE
Q
UINN came awake in the early hours before dawn and lay there, feeling the soft caress of Sara’s breaths against his chest. They’d fallen asleep tangled in each other’s arms, and that was something of a novelty for him.
He didn’t sleep very well around others and he hadn’t ever been able to sleep with somebody in the bed next to him. Not once in his entire life.