I don’t know how he remembers that.
As if seeming to read my thoughts, he speaks again. “Do you not remember the first night we spent together? I do. I remember everything about it.”
Suddenly, his arms feel too tight. I forgot about it. I was so broken, sad, and ashamed at myself. “Quinn . . .”
“We sat in my room and watched it with you in my arms. You cried off and on and talked about how great it would be to close your eyes and follow the yellow brick road. I remember not understanding a damn thing because I was trying so hard not to want to kiss you. You said that having something laid out in front of you would make things easier.”
“I lied. Nothing worth having is that easy,” I tell him.
It’s true. No path is ever easy. Nothing in life is freaking easy. I thought I could find that stupid brick road by having my own baby without a man. I would give up the idea of a family that clearly didn’t exist. My life would be the path I paved.
But Quinn came back, I got pregnant, and now I’m in his arms on a busy street because he didn’t want my feet to hurt.
“No, nothing is, but when you found me, I was the Tin Man. I was hollow on the inside.”
He says it as though it’s no longer true. “And now?”
“Now, I found out I had a heart. You’ve had it this whole time.”
The heart that beats in my chest races. I release my hold from around his neck, and Quinn takes the hint. He sets me back on the ground, his eyes are unreadable, and I know he must take that as a rejection.
Slowly, my hands run up his chest and return back to their place around his neck. I lean forward, kissing him slowly as the world moves around us. It’s a short kiss, but I hope it conveys how much all of this means to me.
When I move back, breaking our connection, I give him a soft smile. “I see you also found your courage.”
Quinn chuckles. “I’d say my brain has also been located.”
Not wanting to give him too much confidence, I shrug. “I guess we’ll find out.”
The show is amazing. Beyond amazing. I cried, of course. I’m a girl and my heart was never lost. I’m pretty sure he did as well, but then again, he’s a master at disguising emotion when he needs to.
I’m on cloud nine . . . or maybe ten, if that’s a thing.
“I still can’t breathe,” I say as we exit the theater. “The love and the heartbreak. I just . . .”
“It was a great show,” he admits almost begrudgingly.
“Yeah, it was. My little Oz-loving heart is overjoyed.”
“I’m glad.”
This has been the best date of my life. “Thank you,” I say as we move back into the throngs of people.
“For?”
“Everything. The dinner, the date, the walk, the show, and not to mention how you took my big bomb drop.”
He pulls me to his side, one arm wrapped around my shoulders as I press closer to him. We walk like a couple in love, which maybe we are. I don’t know. Whatever we are, I don’t want to focus on it this second.
I want to enjoy the moment.
Us.
“Did I impress you?” Quinn asks as we find seats on the subway, still wrapped up around each other.
“Very much. Who knew under all that stupid was a guy that was so romantic?”
He smiles and laughs but I can still see the questions swirling in his gaze. When his attention drops to my lips, I know he wants to kiss me. I want it, too, but now that we’re flying away from the hustle of the city and back to my reality in Brooklyn, I wonder if I should.
While tonight was a night I’ll not soon forget, it doesn’t mean that our lives are less complicated.
My head and heart are struggling for the choice, and because no one side wins out, I turn and look away.
It’s not because I don’t love him. It’s because I love him so much that I wouldn’t survive another loss.
He’s the one guy I can’t seem to quit.
“Ashton.” Quinn barely whispers my name.
“Yes?” The fear in my voice doesn’t go unmissed.
“I don’t want you to be afraid anymore. I know I have to earn your trust again. When we get back to your place, I have one last surprise.”
My eyes narrow because that’s not a surprise. I’m well acquainted with what he wants to do in my apartment. I even have the baby as a souvenir.
“I bet you do.”
He laughs, despite the seriousness of a few seconds ago. “Not that—although, I won’t turn you away. Looking at you all night has been . . . hard.”
The dirty jokes float through my brain. “I’m not going to apologize if I’m making things hard on you.”
I look at his crotch. I really do love his dick. Maybe one more night won’t be a mistake. It’s not like I can get pregnant—again. Enjoying sex after a night like this would be a reasonable thing to do, right?
“Oh, I’ll show you hard,” he grumbles with his lips to my ear. “I’ll show you how very, very hard things can get.”
I try to smother my shiver, but I fail. Whatever. It’s not like he doesn’t know how much I enjoy sex with him.
“We should probably stop,” I suggest.
Quinn shifts in his seat, but he doesn’t let me go. “I promise to be a gentleman. I just would like this next part to be in private.”
I have no idea what it could be, but it seems to matter to him. I worry my bottom lip and then nod. “Okay.”
Then I say a silent prayer to the heavens that this isn’t another let down.
“Why don’t you go change, you can’t be comfortable,” Quinn suggests as he shrugs out of his suit jacket.
“Now you’re scaring me.”
Why would it matter what I’m wearing?
He runs his hand down his face and releases a groan. “I’m . . . it’s nothing bad, Ashton. Just, I hate seeing you uncomfortable all night.”
Was I uncomfortable? I don’t think so. Sure, the dress kept riding up and my boobs are so freaking sore that I couldn’t wear a bra, but I didn’t think that was anything big.
“Do I need to change for this talk? I’d rather not delay it since my overactive imagination has conjured a million different possibilities.”
He rolls his eyes, probably seeing that my patience is non-existent and he’s going to lose this fight. “No, I guess not.”
“Okay then, talk.”
Quinn doesn’t do that though, he takes a paper out of his pants pocket, and unfolds it. Then, he takes two strides over to me and extends it. “Here, I wanted to show you this.”
What the hell is it? Maybe it’s a warrant for his arrest. Or a deed to a house. Oh, or it could be a letter saying he won some kind of prize. Maybe it’s a paternity test for another girl he wooed. With Quinn, I never know.
However, of all the other possibilities I thought of. None of them prepared me for this.
I look up, my eyes meeting his and my lips parted. “This is a discharge paper.”
“Yes.”
“From the navy.”
“Yes.”
“With your name on it,” I say, needing to keep clarifying each point.
“It is. I’m officially out in thirty days. I’m technically on leave, and I don’t have to go back, so I guess, I’m out now,” he rambles.
My gaze drops to the paper again, waiting for the joke to finally hit. “You . . . got out of the navy?”
“I told you before that I talked to my commander.”
I nod. He did, but talking to and getting discharge papers from are two different things. This isn’t some abstract thought or hope. This is concrete. This is signed, sealed, delivered and he doesn’t ever have to go back.
My heart is pounding. “I . . . I can’t believe it.”
He steps closer, his hand touches my chin, lifting it gently to look at him. “I know that part of what our issues were before was that I didn’t talk to you about whether I should’ve stayed in or out. You wanted to be an active partici
pant in our life together, and I wasn’t listening to you. I realize that I did that again, but I did it because I wanted you to know that I was doing it without any assurances that you were going to be with me. I wanted you to know that I love you enough to take that risk. I’ve broken promises. I’ve failed you, and I need to prove to you that I won’t make those mistakes again.”
My heart races. He did all of this before he even knew there was a baby. He chose me, which is all I ever wanted. He told me he’d done it, but I didn’t believe he would go through with it.
A tear falls down my cheek, and he wipes it away.
“Why are you crying?” Quinn’s voice is soft.
“Because . . .” I try to find the words to describe it. I don’t know why. There are so many different reasons.
“Because?”
I can see how uncertain he is, and that only makes me feel more things. Quinn is always the steady legs in the rough seas. He’s the guy who knows what he wants and makes the choice, damn the consequences.
Now, he doesn’t seem so sure of anything.
“Because,” I make another attempt. “Because you confuse me! I love you and then I don’t and then I love you and I don’t want to. I want to have a baby and then you knock me up! Here I was, worried about everything with you in the military and us having a baby, but then you take me on this date. Not just dinner and a show, but a show that you chose because of me. Because you remembered something about me and my heart. Why can’t you go back to being an idiot who didn’t love me?” I shout the last part and try to move away.
Quinn doesn’t let me. He grips my arms, holding me right there. “I was never an idiot who didn’t love you. I was an idiot who didn’t tell you.”
And right there is the exact moment that Quinn broke the very last part of my walls.
25
Ashton
“Kiss me,” I say breathlessly.
He doesn’t ask again or give me any chance to refute him. His lips press against mine, and I soften against him. My hands travel up his thick arms, his neck, and then to the back of his head. I hold him, drinking in the glorious way he attacks my mouth.
Our lips move together, and it’s as if I’ve finally come home.
I was a fool to think I’d end up anywhere but here.
He’s the person who I’ve wanted, and he’s giving me everything I want. I can’t possibly turn it down.
We’re lost in each other for a few moments, and I want to give him something this time. I don’t want another screw on the couch, not that it wasn’t fabulous, but this time, I want it to be more than that.
Giving myself to him, freely and without restraint.
“Quinn,” I say against his lips.
“What, sweetheart?”
I preen at the term of endearment. “Come with me,” I say as I drop my hand to his.
We walk wordlessly to my bedroom.
As much as I’d like to say that I didn’t anticipate this, that would be bullshit. I cleaned, made sure there were fresh flowers on the dresser, and strategically placed candles in the room—a girl has to plan for any possibility.
And, yet, none of that is noticed. Quinn is focused solely on me. “You’re so damn gorgeous.”
“You make me feel pretty.”
“Why is that?” he asks as he circles around me, finger grazing against the skin of my collarbone.
“The way you look at me,” I admit. “The way you kiss me.”
He stops behind me, his arm hooking around my front and his lips gliding along my neck. “There’s no other woman in the world who can hold a candle to you, Ashton. You’re the sun, the flames, the stars, the heat that consumes this world.”
My head falls back to his shoulder, and I close my eyes. It’s nice to feel adored. “And aren’t you afraid to get burned?”
Quinn rubs his nose along my ear, the warmth of his breath causing my flesh to break out in goose bumps. “I welcome the burn, fragolina. Your fire doesn’t destroy, it gives me life.” Then his hand moves down to my belly, resting there. “Look at what your warmth gave us.”
I still struggle with how genuinely happy he seems about this. “How are you this okay with it?”
He turns me so I can see his face. “When you told me you wanted to have another man’s child, I thought I would lose my mind. It was then that I knew I would do anything to be the man who gave it to you. I’m okay with it because I want this with you. I want everything with you.”
My fingers lift, touching his face. “For how long?”
He shakes his head as though I’m missing the obvious. “Indefinitely.”
Our lips crash together in haste. There are no more words because anything he says after that, I don’t want to hear. His hands are on my neck, controlling my head, moving me from side to side. It’s a sign of power and control, one I welcome.
His tongue slides into my mouth, pushing and fighting for dominance. Quinn’s fingers glide against my neck and cup my breasts, squeezing, and I push back in pain. Well, pregnancy joy number one.
Quinn takes a few steps back, confusion sweeping across his gorgeous face.
“Really fucking tender,” I explain.
His eyes are filled with understanding as he moves back to me. “Then I’ll have to pay attention to other things.”
Heat fills my body, warming every inch of skin, every ounce of blood. “Yeah?”
He takes another step as I move back, legs hitting the bed. “Want me to show you?”
“Very much so.”
“Take your dress off while I watch.”
My hand reaches behind me, slowly sliding the zipper lower. I might like when he’s bossy in bed, but I like teasing him. When he gets broody, it’s fucking hot, and nothing makes him react more than when I toy with him.
The sound of the metal teeth coming apart sets him on edge. He clenches his hands at his sides, and I don’t do anything but take my time.
His chest rises and falls a little harder as we stare at each other. He knows exactly what I’m doing, and I wait for him to snap.
One.
Two.
Three.
Quinn moves with lightning speed, his hands push mine aside as he releases the zipper and pulls the dress from my body.
He leans down, fingers gripping the back of my thighs as I grab his arms for support. Normally, he’d toss my ass onto the bed, but he slows himself.
“I don’t want to fuck you tonight.” His voice is low and gruff, restraint in every syllable.
“Then what exactly do you want?” Because I would very much like that.
He lays me on the bed softly, as though I’m a delicate flower he’s afraid to break.
Quinn’s eyes are intense as he climbs over me. “I want to worship you.”
Well, that sounds just fine to me.
Then I realize what he means by that. He wants to make love. He wants us to join together, not in anger or in one of our typical very hot and sweaty sex sessions but in a slow show of emotions. Quinn wants to show me more.
I don’t welcome the tears that pool because I’m clearly an emotional idiot, but they come anyway. “Make love to me, Quinn,” I say the words, and then he kisses me.
His lips are no less intense, but there’s something else between us. An understanding that this is different. Everything about tonight has been the same way. It wasn’t our normal time together. It was filled with smiles and . . . love.
We kiss, but then his mouth starts to move. He kisses my neck, shoulders, and down my chest.
While my breasts are sore, they’re also very sensitive in a way they’ve never been before. When his tongue slides over my nipple, I could come right there.
He reads my body, always aware of things that I don’t think he could know, and does it again, this time making a circle.
“Jesus.” I breathe the word.
Quinn does the same to the other, causing another moan to escape my mouth.
He keeps doing it until my
hips are moving, needing more, needing him.
I ache with desire. My limbs are tight, and my fingers dig into his back. “I’m so close.”
He chuckles against my skin. “We may break a record tonight.”
I don’t think I’ll mind this one bit. If pregnant sex is like this, I may get knocked up again just to keep it.
“Please, baby,” I whimper, internally groaning at the sound of my own voice.
“Be patient, fragolina,” Quinn’s lust-filled tone urges as he moves lower.
Oh, I’m so not going to be patient if that’s what he’s doing. Nothing in this world comes close to the feel of his mouth on me.
He slowly moves down my body, lingering over my belly as his lips press there gently. He descends farther and then his tongue makes a torturously slow swipe against my core. My back arches, eyes closed, as he does it again. “You taste like heaven.”
“You feel like heaven,” I tell him.
“Well, let’s see if we can make the angels sing.”
And sing they do. I cry out his name as he makes circles around my clit. My hands fist the comforter as he pumps a finger into my pussy while his mouth sucks and flicks the nerves that drive me wild.
I don’t even fight it.
I come so hard that I’m not sure I’m even tethered to this earth anymore. A sheen of sweat covers my chest, and I’m panting.
He’s back to eye level and he’s trying to hide the smirk on his lips. The man should be proud. That was freaking fantastic.
“And now what are you going to do?” I ask him.
His answer is to slide into me, filling me to the hilt. I grip his shoulders, trying to accommodate for the intrusion.
“Are you okay?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“Yes.”
“The baby?”
I look at him, brows furrowed. “Huh?”
“I just . . . I mean, I’m not sure. If the . . . the baby.”
And then I realize what he’s asking. He’s worried that sex will hurt the baby. “No, the baby is fine, but I won’t be if you don’t start moving soon.”
Indefinite Page 15
