Indefinite (Book 1 in the Indefinite Duet): The Salvation Series

by Michaels, Corinne

  Quinn has man’s hands. They’re not soft or maintained because he works hard. I missed that feeling. Missed him touching me and making me feel it everywhere. There’s no doubt that he’s the one branding me with the scrapes from the callouses on his fingers. I can remember each scar from the bullets, knife fights, or whatever else happened that he wouldn’t tell me about.

  Then reality tries to weasel its way into my bliss. I’m kissing him when I’m trying to get rid of him. Damn him and his ability to scramble my brain.

  I need to stop this. I need to get some distance. The scent of him is intoxicating, and in order to get through it, I need my wits about me.

  I turn my head and struggle to catch my breath.

  “Ash?”

  “No,” I say as I rest my hand on his chest to keep him from kissing me again. “You’re not going to make me feel this way. I’m done. All the way done. I want my life and my heart back. The one you took three years ago. I want to go to a bar, dance with a guy, and maybe take him home. I want to walk through the streets without looking for you or thinking I want you there, because I don’t. I want to stop comparing every stupid man to you. You took that all from me! Give it back, damn it!”

  He grips my hand, holding it over his chest. “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. I won’t give it back because I want every guy to measure up short. I want you to feel my hands when another man touches you, and I want you not to be able to stand it. You think it’s only you who’s fucked up from this?” He laughs once. “I’m fucking lost without you. I’ve lowered myself to getting our friends and family involved. So, no, I won’t give anything back.”

  Asshole. “Stop saying these things! It’s too late! It’s too much!”

  “Then deny it, Ashton. Tell me you don’t love me,” he demands.

  My heart is racing, and my breathing is labored. I want to say it. I could make this all go away with one little lie. It should be so simple because him leaving is what I want, right? It’s the way I can move forward with my life. But I hate liars. I hate those who use other people to gain what they want. It’s not who I am. “I can’t deny it. I just don’t want to love you anymore!”

  We both move toward each other in a rush. I kiss him, anger mixed with passion whipping around us with so much force that I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to. His lips are all power as he slides his tongue into my mouth.

  We may not be right for each other, but there is nothing wrong about this.

  He kisses me hard, and I love the feel of his fingers as they wrap around the strands of my hair. Quinn kisses with a power that renders me helpless. It’s impossible to resist him.

  He moans against my mouth, and my hands press against his hard chest. I want him so much. I want to not want him even more, but I can’t stop it. He breaks the kiss, but his lips move to my neck.

  “I hate you,” I tell him.

  “No you don’t.”

  “Shut up.”

  His warm breath is right against my ear. “You shut up.”

  “Make me.”

  He slowly drags his lips back to mine, effectively doing exactly what I told him to do—shut me up.

  I can’t think when his hands start to roam my side. My head is jumbled with thoughts of how good it feels and how much I want him. When he moves to my stomach and starts up, I know I’m fucked.

  I try to buck up, but he grips my hip. “I need to touch you.”

  I need to stop this. If I don’t, there will be no backing out. Then his hand moves higher, brushing against the underside of my breast, eliciting a groan that escapes my lips. “Quinn,” I say, not sure what the hell I’m trying to get him to do. Touch me more or stop altogether.

  “Let me make you feel good.”

  God, that’s an interesting offer. “And then what?”

  His thumb brushes against my nipple. “And then we figure this out.”

  I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to talk first and then have sex, but Quinn and I have never exactly followed any kind of protocol. “One time,” I say both to him and to myself. It can only be this once.

  He grins. “I much prefer multiples, fragolina, and I know you do as well.”

  And then there are no more words.

  His hands are on my skin, and I’m lost to him. His power is intoxicating, and I want to drown in it. He tears my shirt off, revealing my breasts.

  He cups them, moving his thumbs against each nipple. Then he moves his hands to my back, pulling me up so he can take me into his mouth. His warm tongue circles my nipple, sucking at just the right pressure before moving to the next. My fingers thread into his hair as he alternates.

  Quinn pushes me back onto the couch. The soft leather causes me to shiver as the heat of his body covers me.

  He kisses me again, his tongue dueling against mine. Kissing a man like him is an entire body experience.

  I sigh against his lips when his fingers move down my shorts. “I love that you don’t wear underwear,” he says with a chuckle. “I love that you’re dripping wet and all I’ve done is this.”

  “It’s because it’s been a long time,” I retort. His hand stills, and I realize I just gave something away. Quinn thinks I’m pregnant already. “For us.”

  “Have you been dreaming about me?”

  Fuck yes, I have. “No.”

  “Tell me the truth,” Quinn commands. “Is it me you wanted when you were with that man? Is it me you thought of when he was inside you?”

  I can’t answer. No matter what the hell he does, I have to keep my mouth shut. He thinks I’ve been with someone else, and it needs to stay that way. “Why don’t you fuck me and we can find out?” I say as I move my hands against his bare chest.

  Quinn smirks. “Oh, I’m going to, that’s not even a question, but how many times I let you come is dependent on your answer.”

  I will not let this smug bastard win. He wants to know if I thought about him while I was with someone else? Too bad. “If you wanted to know the answers to your questions, then you should’ve been around. And how many times you make me come will determine whether you ever touch me again.”

  I throw my own gauntlet down. It’s up to him if he picks it up.

  He leans onto his knees. Towering over me. “Well, then I better get to work.”

  Quinn unties his shorts, watching me watch him, and then pulls them off, freeing his dick.

  I am one of the few women who love a man’s dick. There’s something oddly sexy about it. How it grows, tastes, and moves. My body was made for him to fit inside me, and I am so going to enjoy this ride.

  My hand reaches out to touch him, but he pushes it away. “You want to touch me?”

  I nod.

  “I thought I was the one who had to earn it?”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  His eyes fill with mischief and a hint of challenge. “It’s only been you, Ashton,” Quinn informs me and then wraps his hand around his cock. “I’ve been hard for you, wanting you and no one else. I don’t give a fuck if you believe me or not because you’re the only woman I want.”

  My breathing accelerates as I watch him stroke himself while looking at me. I’m jarring back and forth from anger to love. Each side gets the lead only to be dealt a losing blow. I can see that he’s aware of what this is doing to me.

  His words are penetrating the armor I thought I had around my heart.

  I don’t want to hear anything else. “I want my orgasm.”

  Quinn shakes his head, his hand stilling. “How badly?”

  “Enough for me to go find my vibrator if you won’t complete your task.”

  I’m not even joking. I’m about two seconds away from attempting to lock myself in my bedroom. I’m not naïve enough to think I’ll actually get that far, but I’m not about idle threats.

  His fingers tuck into the waistband of my shorts, and he pulls down. He lifts my legs to remove them completely, and then his hands grip my thighs and the backs of m
y knees are on his shoulders.

  Before I can make a noise, his tongue is against my clit. He takes a few slow swipes, and I start to climb. He moves in small circles, adding and adjusting the pressure according to the sounds I make. I try to fight it off as long as I can, but he’s too damn good. Quinn knows my body and what I like, and he pushes me.

  “Quinn,” I start to call his name as a pant. “There! Yes!” I yell as he starts to increase the pressure. Then he inserts a finger, curving it, driving me higher until there’s nowhere to go but over the edge. “Holy shit!”

  He keeps going, milking every ounce of pleasure from me as I thrash my head back and forth.

  “There’s one, I’m thinking it’s a threepeat kind of night,” Quinn says as he climbs my body.

  “Yeah?”

  He thrusts into me in one motion, causing me to cry out. “Yeah, maybe even four.”

  Death by dick . . . what a way to go.

  11

  Ashton

  Quinn brings my body to all the heights, and now we’re both sweaty, sated, and I’m lying on his chest. So much for self-control.

  Both of us have been silent, either afraid to speak or afraid to acknowledge what just happened. Having sex with Quinn was definitely not in my plans. In fact, it was the opposite of what I was going to do.

  Now, it’s done, and I’m left feeling things I would rather ignore. Like I love him. Too bad he thinks I’m pregnant with another man’s baby and will probably lose his mind when it sets in. Sure, he says that he doesn’t care, but I know him. He’s a prideful bastard. I’ll really be dead when he finds out I was lying all along.

  I rest my chin on my hand, looking up at him. “Loving you has never been an issue, you know?”

  His eyes fill with an emotion I can’t place and wish I could read. “No.” He sighs. “It’s been mine. I wasn’t the man you needed, and you’re pushing me away now because I deserve that.” With that confession, the emotion in the room shifts. “If I were a better man, I would do what you’re asking. I’d leave and let you have the life you want—without me. But, you see, I’ve tried that for the last six months. I’ve lived in this world without talking to you, touching you, or knowing you were there, and I was miserable. I wished I had died that day in the accident because a life without you, Ashton, isn’t worth shit.”

  I shift to sit, covering myself with the blanket as I take in what he said. My heart is breaking because I’ve felt the same in some ways. I’ve missed him desperately. Our love is infinite and there are no breaks, but even though that is a truth, it doesn’t mean it’s healthy. We have very real, very major issues.

  “I’m sorry I tried to slap you. I never should’ve done that.”

  He takes my hand in his. “I’m not. I was out of line. Here I am, trying to prove that I’ve changed, and I hurt you so that you can’t hurt me first.”

  “And here you are, doing what I’ve asked you to do for years, and I can’t accept it.”

  Quinn’s fingers tangle with mine as though, if he just holds on tight enough, we can’t break apart. “I will do whatever it takes. I’m on leave for a month, and I’ll take a month after that if I have to. I’m sor—”

  This is not going to end well for me. I already know it. When he wants something, he gets it. I have to remember that sometimes when someone gets something they want, they also give it back.

  “Don’t,” I say quickly. “Don’t apologize. We’re both at fault. I know you’re hurting right now.” My hand touches his chin, drawing his attention back to me. “Let me in. Tell me what happened and how you got injured and sent home early.”

  He seems to debate for a moment, and then his eyes close as he does what I ask. “We were in the Humvee, talking about King’s upcoming wedding. He was fucking happy. He couldn’t wait to get back home so that he could make Tessa his—not like she didn’t own him already, but that’s beside the point. Then it was like nothing. No Earth, no ground, no world around me. The laughter was gone, and it was replaced with deafening sounds.”

  I fight back the tears that form when I think of him and the fear that must’ve been in that vehicle. He takes my hand in his, holding it against his chest and lacing our fingers.

  “I was watching it all happen, but there was no slow motion. It was so fast that I couldn’t process anything. There was screaming, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, blood was splattered on my face, and I had no idea if it was one of the guys’ or mine. When the flipping finally stopped, I didn’t want to focus. I wanted to pretend it didn’t happen because the quiet was worse than the noise. Quiet means that people were dead.”

  I tighten my fingers, letting him know I’m here, but he doesn’t respond. This had to be incredibly difficult to recount. I raise my other hand to his face, going very slowly and giving him time to escape. “I’m so sorry. I wish . . . I wish I could . . .” I don’t know what I wish for because nothing will make it better. “I know how much those guys meant to you.”

  He nods, his eyes on mine but the anguish is hard to see. This man, this strong, fighter of a man, is breaking. “I was able to get everyone out, but we lost King. Of all the guys we lost, it shouldn’t have been him. I was so upset, but then all I could fucking think about was you. You, Ashton. There, in the middle of me possibly dying, your face was the only thing I could focus on. The regrets that filled me were sitting on my chest, and all I could think about was getting back to you. So, don’t fucking tell me I don’t love you.”

  My lip trembles. “And then you get back and were met with my glowing reception.”

  He gives a half-smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t expect this to be easy.”

  “No, it definitely won’t be.”

  “I know that I have a lot of groveling to do.”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “I’d say that.”

  “But I’m willing to do it. I’ll fight through whatever line of men is trying to take my place. I’ll slay any dragon if it means I get you in the end. I know talk is cheap and that I’ve made promises I couldn’t keep before, but I want to give you whatever you want.”

  His fingers wipe away a tear I didn’t feel fall. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

  “You have me.” His voice is soft.

  “I mean all of you. I want a life, Quinn. That means you coming home to me, loving me, having a family. I don’t want a relationship that is so confined that it’s easy to walk away from. Regardless of how much you thought pushing me away would make losing you any easier—it didn’t.”

  “I know. I know I can’t give you everything you want, but I will do what I can. I will be a better man.” He shifts, forcing me to sit up. “I need time to figure out how to do it, and I need you to help me.”

  I close my eyes and let another tear fall as an echo of a past promise whispers to me.

  He’d asked that of me before.

  Said almost those exact words.

  What happens when he realizes it’s not for him? I’m the one who is left stranded. That’s what.

  No. I said one time only and that’s what this will be. A goodbye to the girl who believed Quinn would be her savior.

  “There’s no point, Quinn.” I get up, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapping it around myself. “I’m going to have a baby, and we both know this won’t work.”

  “How won’t it?”

  “Because I won’t allow myself to hope for more. This never should’ve happened.”

  His head jerks back. “What shouldn’t have happened?”

  I point to the couch. “This! It was a one-time deal, and now I think it’s time for you to go.”

  I don’t want him to leave. I want him to stay, love me, give me everything, and yet, I know that’s a fallacy I can’t afford to hold on to. I’ve allowed Quinn to treat me the way he does. There was a precedence set that he could do what he wanted and I would stand by him. When I asked him to make concessions and he didn’t, by not putting my foot down or wa
lking away, I basically told him it was allowable. I’ve given him permission to break my heart so many times, and that is not going to end if I don’t change.

  Could things be different? Maybe.

  Maybe he could end up being the best husband in the world, but based on the fight we had, I’m going to say it’s not likely.

  “So, that’s it? You’re going to give up? I already told you that I’ll be here for you and the baby.”

  I scoff. “Please, you weren’t even there for me when it was just me. How am I to believe that you’ll stick around and help raise another man’s child? How can you ask me to set myself up for that kind of letdown?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I’ll help raise your child, and that child will be mine. Just like you are.”

  I don’t believe him at all. “Leave,” I say with sadness.

  “If that’s what you want . . . then, fine, Ash. I won’t keep fucking begging you to see that it’s different this time.”

  If he were anyone else, I might have believed that. I wish so much that I could run to him, wrap him in my arms, and let him care for me. That isn’t what we’ve ever been, which is heartbreaking. Our love has always been filled with contingencies. It’s not the way I want to live anymore.

  So, I shouldn’t feel like someone is ripping my heart out right now. It shouldn’t be hard to breathe as I watch him get to his feet and grab his clothes off the floor.

  “I’m sorry it’s like this,” I say, and then my eyes drop to what’s stolen his attention—the black book of baby daddies. I close my eyes and pray he doesn’t realize what it is. He’ll know I am . . . intentionally leading him to a false conclusion of my pregnancy, and then I’ll really be in trouble.

  His eyes meet mine. “Are you? Because, maybe you’re right. I tell you that I’ve changed and then I show up here, fight with you, and we end up fucking on the couch. I’m sorry I keep doing this.” Quinn pulls his shorts on and yanks his shirt back over his head. “I should go.”

  I turn and head to the window, not wanting to watch him leave me again. I stare out at the world that’s moving on around me, ever-turning, changing, and I feel like I’m going in circles.