by Laura Iding
He should be glad Delores hadn’t noticed, because he had promised Leila he’d be discreet. It would be just his luck for Delores to blurt out the truth while picking up Danny at school.
Reassured that Delores was in good hands, he headed back down to the ED. Another patient had come in, but only a young mother with a minor laceration, the result of two kids playing football in the house and a broken mirror. A complex multiple trauma would have made the time pass, but he couldn’t be callous enough to hope some poor soul would get hurt.
As the end of his shift finally drew near, he found himself watching the clock even more closely and hoping this time that a major trauma didn’t roll through the doors at the last minute, since that would definitely make him late for his date with Leila.
He didn’t want to give her any opportunity to change her mind about seeing him. About spending the night with him.
Thankfully, the trauma pager remained quiet and Jadon arrived for his night shift promptly on time. Quinn bolted from the hospital, rushing over to Leila’s house, but he was standing on her front porch when he belatedly noticed there weren’t many lights on inside.
Had she fallen asleep?
Would she hear his knock? And if so, would she let him in or simply tell him to get lost?
He rapped sharply on the door and held his breath, praying she’d answer. He was just about to knock again, louder this time, when the door opened.
“Hi, Quinn,” she said with a shy smile.
Light-headed with relief, he stepped inside the warmth of her home. She was beautiful, her long straight dark hair loose around her shoulders and her curvy figure showcased perfectly in a stretchy knit cream-colored sweater and black leggings. He had to talk himself out of picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder to search for the closest bedroom.
“Thanks for waiting up for me.” Now that he was here, he felt awkward. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her earlier that he hadn’t done this in a long time.
Years. Too many years to count.
She closed the door behind him. “I’ll take your coat. Would you like something to drink? I have beer and wine.”
He noticed a half-full glass of wine next to a laptop computer on the end table beside the sofa, surmising it was hers. “Wine, if that’s what you’re drinking.”
“All right. Have a seat, I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the kitchen.
He wandered over to look at the computer, seeing a search engine up on the screen. His stomach tightened with apprehension. Had she searched for information about Danny’s mother?
No. If Leila had known, she’d have asked him about it. He’d learned from the incident with Trevor’s mother that Leila didn’t hesitate to confront him if she felt the need.
And now that he was here, how did he broach the subject of their affair? He’d made his intention clear during dinner a couple of nights ago, but in his opinion, a guy couldn’t be too careful. Best for Leila to go into this affair with her eyes wide open and her expectations reasonable.
“Here you go,” she said, returning to the living room with another glass of wine. “I hope you like Merlot.”
“I do.” He took the wine from her fingers, feeling a bit like a clumsy oaf next to her daintiness. “Have you been working?” he asked, gesturing to the computer.
“Just researching.” She shrugged and closed the computer, effectively shutting it off. “I’ve been staring at the screen for so long, my eyes are blurry.”
“I don’t know much about computers,” he confessed, taking a seat on her comfortable sofa. “It’s scary to think Danny will pass me in another year or two.”
She laughed as she sank down next to him, sending a stab of desire shooting straight to his groin. “You’re like my husband. He didn’t have much use for computers either.”
Her husband. Not his favorite topic, but he could maybe gently remind her about his no-future rules in a roundabout way. “How long were you married?”
“Two years.” Her smile was melancholy and he wondered if she missed her husband at times like this, especially around the holidays. “I’m thankful for the time I had with him, though.”
“You didn’t have children?” He knew he was probing into dangerous territory, but he couldn’t help himself. He was more curious about her than he had a right to be.
“No. George wanted them, but I didn’t think it was fair.”
He frowned. Most women he knew wanted babies. Celeste, especially, had wanted a large family. But that had been before one child had proven to be too much. Oh, at first she’d been thrilled to have Danny, but then him working too many hours, leaving her alone with a small baby, had taken its toll. By the time Danny was two, she’d sunk into deep depression. By the time he’d been four and a half, she’d taken her own life. “Because of your career?”
She shook her head. “Because I don’t know anything about my past, including my family health history. Are my genes prone to cancer? Heart disease? Psychiatric disorders? Neurological diseases? What if I have some obscure genetic illness that I haven’t discovered yet?” She took a sip of her wine, her gaze pensive. “Now that George is gone, it’s probably for the best that we didn’t have children.”
He didn’t necessarily agree. His life wouldn’t be worth living if not for Danny. He wouldn’t ever regret marrying Celeste because she’d given him the gift of their son. He and Danny were a team. But for now he thought it was best to play along. “You’re probably right. Being a single parent is challenging.”
“Yes, although you and Danny appear to have a great relationship,” she mused.
“We do. And that’s the main reason I’m not looking for anything more.” He glanced at her, hoping he hadn’t sounded too blunt. “Leila, I want you, very much. But I need to tell you, I can’t offer you a future.”
He winced when her eyes flashed with hurt. But then the moment of pain was gone and her chin lifted defiantly. “I don’t remember asking for a future.”
He should have been relieved, but instead he was vexed at her tone. Why wouldn’t she want a future with him? Because he didn’t measure up to her precious George? What had been so wonderful about her first husband? And so what if he didn’t measure up to the guy? Ridiculous to be jealous of a dead man.
“You didn’t. I’m sorry, please give me a chance to start over.” He reached across and took her glass of wine away, setting it on the end table next to his. Then he took her hand, cradling it in his as he edged closer. “Leila, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all evening.”
“Oh, really?” Her dry tone said she didn’t believe him, but her pupils dilated in response when he lifted her hand and brushed his mouth across her knuckles.
“Yes. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He turned her hand so he could press another lingering kiss on the delicate skin covering the pulse of her wrist. “It’s a good thing I didn’t have any complicated patients, as I couldn’t concentrate worth a damn. All I could think of was you. Us.”
“You don’t have to seduce me,” she protested, in a husky tone. “I invited you here, remember?”
If any woman needed seduction, it was Leila. She was a complex mix of experience, brilliance, tenderheartedness and innocence. He didn’t understand exactly what was going on in that brain of hers, but he sensed she was unsure of herself, or at least unsure of the situation.
Which meant he needed to take his time, until she was comfortable with him.
He didn’t mind. After all, they had all night.
Leila wondered if it was too late to back out of their arrangement. She’d almost canceled a dozen times while waiting for Quinn to get off work. And from the moment he’d arrived, she’d suspected they were making a mistake.
Him reinforcing this was nothing more than an affair didn’t help her feel any better.
Yet she couldn’t make herself send him away. And when he tugged the sleeve of her sweater up and pressed his hot mouth to the ins
ide of her elbow, she nearly gasped.
Since when had the inside of her elbow been an erogenous zone? And how many other erogenous zones did she possess that she was unaware of?
“Remember the night I massaged your feet?” he asked in a low murmur.
The way his mouth moved against her skin, causing every nerve ending to sizzle, made it difficult to think. “Yes.”
“I’d like to do that again, only this time I’d work my way upward until you were completely naked and I’ve had the opportunity to massage every glorious inch of your body.”
The thought of him doing exactly that was intoxicating. Her heart thundered in her ears, making her dizzy. His hands and his mouth teased and tortured her simultaneously.
“That sounds very…one-sided,” she finally managed. Lifting her hand, she threaded her fingers through his dark hair, urging him to continue his heady exploration. “I think this is supposed to be a mutually rewarding experience.”
He let out a low, husky laugh. “Trust me, I’ll enjoy every minute of pleasuring you.”
When he said things like that, she almost believed him. His mouth found the tender skin along her jaw, his hand pushing up the hem of her sweater until he could caress the bare skin of her abdomen. She dropped her head back to give him greater access to her neck and wondered what it would be like if he kissed her there on her stomach, too.
No man had ever treated her like this, as if every inch of her body intrigued him. Excited him. Thrilled him. She ran her hand up his arm, squeezing his shoulder as she urged him closer. They were still on her sofa, although she was lounging back, trying to pull Quinn on top of her. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to get her into bed, but took his time as he nuzzled, nipped and licked her neck, her throat, even the hidden spot behind her ear, before claiming her mouth with his.
Her entire body shimmered with tension, and she wished she’d greeted him at the door wearing nothing but her birthday suit because their clothes were definitely in the way.
“Quinn, please,” she begged, wishing she could explore his body the way he was touching her. The hardness of his muscles cushioning her softness felt wonderful but she wanted more. She tugged at his shirt, dragging it up his back. “I want you.”
“God, Leila,” he said with a groan when she finally succeeded in yanking his shirt over his head and tossing the inside-out garment to the floor before smoothing her hands over the rock-hard muscles of his chest. “Not as much as I want you.”
Wanna bet? she thought with a secret smile. Her smile faded when he stripped her sweater off and kissed her stomach, sending a jolt of electricity straight to the already moist juncture of her thighs.
Her humorous thoughts were quickly replaced with serious, urgent desire. As Quinn deftly opened her front-clasp bra, freeing her breasts, she dimly realized she was close to having an orgasm and he hadn’t even taken all her clothes off yet.
“My bedroom,” she gasped. “First door on the right.”
He lifted his head, gazing intently down at her. “We’ll get to the bedroom soon enough, don’t worry.”
His soon wasn’t soon enough for her. He began peeling off her leggings, and she helped the best she could, given her rather awkward position on the sofa. “Now, Quinn. There isn’t enough room on this sofa.”
“There’s plenty of room.” His piercing gaze stroked her nearly naked body and she’d never before had a man look at her with such appreciation and longing. “At least for what I have in mind. I have to say, there’s nothing as delicious as a good antipasto.”
An appetizer? Like the sampling before the main meal? She was almost afraid to ask. But then he kissed her bare breasts, moved lower to her quivering abdomen and her breath lodged in her throat when he moved lower still, drawing her underwear out of the way.
She wanted to protest. Her sex life with George hadn’t included this level of intimacy, but Quinn’s mouth felt so good, she couldn’t find the words to ask him to stop.
And then she couldn’t speak at all, even if she wanted to. Couldn’t stop herself from responding to his most intimate touch by raising her hips higher, silently urging him on, lost in the sensation until the curling tension exploded with an unprecedented rush. “Quinn!”
“Shh,” he soothed between kisses as he gently worked his way back up her body. “It’s all right, quierda. We have all night.”
All night? The very thought made her feel weak. Somehow she knew he was completely serious, not one bit overstating his ability to make love all night long.
And suddenly a trickle of concern made its way into her pleasure-soaked brain.
She already felt closer to Quinn than she should. For him, this was just a sexual diversion.
For her, it had the potential to become more.
“Come, quierda,” he said, drawing her upright from where she’d been sprawled on the sofa. “First door on the right?”
“Yes.” She barely recognized her hoarse croak.
He must have noticed her moment of indecision because he swept her into his arms, stepping over their discarded clothing as he carried her to the bedroom, like a pirate striding off with his booty.
He set her down and she was grateful for the darkness, as only the little bit of light from the living room illuminated the room. Her pirate didn’t disregard her feelings, though. Instead, he smoothed her hair away from her damp face. “Are you okay?” he murmured.
His concern made her want to smile.
“Fine.” He held her close enough that she could feel the hard evidence of his arousal. And, impossibly, she felt the desperate need to have him, all over again. “Perfect. Couldn’t be better.”
“Good.” He put a little distance between them to shuck off the rest of his clothing until he was as naked as she. Quinn without clothes was breathtaking and now she wished for the light so she could see him better.
Reaching out, she stroked her hands over his chest, relishing the way he sucked in a harsh breath when she moved her hands lower, over his abdomen. “I think it’s my turn.”
“Our turn,” he corrected, putting his hands on hers as if to stop her. He tried to nudge her toward the bed.
“My turn,” she insisted, moving her hands lower still, until she could wrap her hand around him.
“Leila,” he groaned when she gently squeezed and stroked. “You’re killing me.”
Bringing him pleasure only made her want him more. And suddenly she understood what he’d meant when he’d told her that he’d enjoy every minute of her full body massage. Making love like this was good for both of them.
“Come to bed with me, Quinn,” she whispered.
He crushed her close, kissing her deeply as they tumbled to the mattress. He braced himself above her, their limbs entwined, but she tried to pull him closer, anxious to feel the weight of him against her.
“Wait,” he muttered, when she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Condom.”
She almost whimpered when he pulled away, reaching for his pants on the floor to dig the necessary foil packet out of his pocket. Good thing he’d remembered because protection hadn’t been at the forefront in her mind. Still, she took the condom from him, and prolonged the pleasure by slowly rolling the latex protection over him.
At that moment the thin thread of his control snapped. He groaned low in his throat as he rocked her backward against the bed, urgently spreading her legs and thrusting deep.
Yes! This was what she’d wanted. He pulled out and thrust again, harder, and she welcomed him, wrapping her legs around him and clinging to his shoulders as he set the pace.
And this time, when the explosion came, they were both in it together.
Afterward, she was surprised when he rolled to the side, holding her close, as if loath to let her go.
Afraid to say anything to ruin the afterglow of pleasure, she curled up beside him, loving the reassuring sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
A tiny part of her mind wanted to believe Quinn cared about
her more than he’d let on.
Because surely if this was nothing more than an affair, he’d already be out the door heading back to his house, not cuddled up next to her like this.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EARLY the next morning, she awoke and stretched luxuriously, her body tender and sore in several places but unable to muster the energy to care. She felt good. Wickedly good. Quinn had made love to her several times in the wee hours of the morning before they’d both fallen into a deep sleep.
But now their night together was over. She glanced over at Quinn, his hair black against her cream-colored pillows, thinking how long it had been since she’d shared her bed with a man. And being with Quinn had been so different from what she’d been used to.
Since thinking of George, even fleetingly, made her feel guilty, she quickly pushed those thoughts away. George had always wanted her to be happy.
The covers had slipped down, exposing Quinn’s bare chest. She’d kissed and stroked that beautiful body of his all night, but now just looking at him thrilled her.
As if he felt her gaze on him, Quinn stirred, rolling toward her and opening his eyes halfway. A satisfied male smile tugged the corner of his lips. “Quierda,” he murmured, pulling her close for a kiss and then tucking her beside him.
“Good morning,” she said breathlessly, her body tingling with awareness when she’d thought it would be impossible to want him again after their nonstop lovemaking last night. She pressed her face into the hollow of his shoulder, breathing in his musky, unique scent and wishing they could spend the rest of the day together, just like this.
Well, maybe with the occasional break for meals, as she was starving. She imagined they’d burned more than the average amount of calories last night with the strength of their passion.
Ignoring the gnawing in her stomach, she kissed his neck, her mouth lingering on his skin. Maybe he wouldn’t have to go just yet.
“Leila, you’d tempt the celibacy of a monk,” he said with a low groan, pulling away so he could look down at her. “As much as I want to stay, I need to leave. Michael Hendricks told me he’d discharge Delores today and I promised to pick up Danny first thing. She’ll expect us to be there soon.”
