A Risk Worth Taking

by Victoria James

  “Holly, do you know what I want to do right now?”

  Holly swallowed. Hard. “Take a hot bath?”

  He shook his head and took a step closer.

  She could barely breathe. “A hot shower?”

  He shook his head again and his eyes dropped to her mouth. Her lips parted involuntarily.

  “Coffee?” she managed to whisper as she heard the beep signaling the brew cycle had finished. He shook his head again and stood a few inches away from her.

  “I want to kiss you,” he said, his voice deep, and then he gently took her wrist and tugged her toward him. “I want to kiss you and taste you and never stop.”

  Holly felt her knees wobble as her eyes went from his to his lips. “I really don’t taste that good, Quinn,” she whispered, all the while staring at his mouth.

  “Oh, yeah, I bet you do,” he said. Panic and desire intertwined throughout her body. Could she do this? Could she do this and survive? Would she still be able to leave and move on?

  His hand went to her waist, and she jumped at the feel of his hand on her body, hot and real and alive. Ten years of wanting, of waiting, had culminated into this very moment. And now that it was here, that he was here, she was the one turning into the chicken.

  “I have a feeling you’re going to taste better than all the fantasies I’ve had about you,” he murmured in a low, throaty voice that was as much a turn on as the words he spoke.

  “Fantasies?” she whispered, her breath shallow. Her eyes moved from his intense blue gaze to his sensual, chiseled lips so close to hers. She took in the rugged plains of his handsome face and knew that, yes, she could do this. This was Quinn.

  She wanted to feel the man that had filled her memories and dreams for the last ten years. She wanted to know what his skin felt like, tasted like. She wanted to know the feel of his mouth on hers. She wanted to know what it would be like to have her body pressed against his, skin against skin. Her hands climbed the taught, warm muscles of his arms, and she walked into the embrace that had been waiting for her for ten long years. It was as though she was finally coming home to the only man who’d ever been able to reach her heart and soul.

  “Oh, yeah, real hot fantasies. And I think you need to know how I really wanted to kiss you that last night,” he whispered. And then his mouth was on hers. Consuming, demanding, and so perfectly Quinn that she melted into the hard planes of his body and relinquished all thought. His mouth moved over hers again and again, until all her breath was gone. When she drew his tongue into her mouth, he captured the gasp that tore from her throat, and then she was plastered against the wet wall of his chest. Holly whimpered and felt her knees give as his hands roamed her body, each place he touched making her need him more.

  …

  “God, I think I’ve wanted you forever,” Quinn rasped against her lips. He couldn’t move away from her, not even for a second. But he needed to know that she was ready for this. There was a vulnerability about Holly that made him want to be certain that she was comfortable moving their relationship forward. She had been through so much, and he’d rather die than add to her sadness. He didn’t want any regrets tomorrow morning—for either of them.

  Her eyes, greener than he’d ever seen them and sparkling with life, with desire, dropped to his lips. “Me, too,” she whispered, and for a second he could have sworn he saw something flash across her eyes. But it was gone before he was sure. Quinn leaned down to pick her up, finding himself filled with the need to make love to her until she forgot all the pain, and surrendered only to the pleasure.

  “Don’t drop me,” she said with a kiss against his bare throat, and he felt her smile as he carried her up the stairs.

  “I’d never drop you,” he answered.

  “Well, you did, remember—”

  Quinn was laughing when he bent his head and halted the words from leaving her soft mouth.

  “You fell. That wasn’t my fault,” he said as he reached the bedroom. The fireplace was already lit and casting an inviting glow in the otherwise shadowed room. He slowly set her down so they were both standing in front of the fireplace. He didn’t take his hands from her as he circled her waist. He couldn’t let go, ever again. She was the one he couldn’t forget, and now she was here. And their age difference no longer mattered. This was the night that would change everything between them…forever.

  Her face was flushed, her eyes brilliant, reflecting her desire. “Well, you still could have caught me.” She smiled, her hands, soft and light, slowly climbing his forearms until they settled around his neck.

  “I told you I’d hang the damn chandelier,” he murmured, finding it increasingly difficult to have a conversation. The overwhelming urge to have his mouth on her body won out and he leaned down to kiss her neck. When she sighed against him, his lips traveled the length of her impossibly soft and fragrant neck until he reached her earlobe. He took the gentle flesh between his teeth and caught Holly as she sank into him.

  “Quinn,” she said in a husky voice before tugging the front of his shirt and pulling him lower for a kiss. She lifted his T-shirt over his head and dropped it to the ground. She pulled back to look at him, her lips parted, and he had never felt so aroused by a woman’s stare. Her hands clutched his waist and then roamed up his torso and his chest, and all he could do was clench his teeth at the excruciating torment. He felt her lips slowly open over his hot skin as she planted featherlike kisses across his chest, and her hands moved to the top button of his jeans. Sweet torture. But enough was enough. He wanted Holly naked and hot with him. He wanted to feel her bare skin against his, and then he wanted to be inside of her.

  He felt her breasts graze against his chest and he groaned from deep in his throat. “God, I want to see you, and taste you, and kiss you.” He drew her shirt over her head and she stood in front of him in the sexiest lace bra. It wasn’t the bra he realized a half second later, it was the woman. He traced his tongue along her collarbone and felt her knees buckle as his mouth closed over the nipple that was begging for his attention through the transparent lace. He caught her against him, and he dragged them both to the bed. Quinn covered her body with his, his lips exploring her skin, his hands moving to cup her breasts. She filled his hands, and then his lips replaced his hand as he took her nipple in his mouth, groaning against her as she arched under him and helped shrug off her jeans.

  “Quinn,” she said in a voice that sent off a few warning bells, even in his state of all-out arousal.

  “Yeah,” he said, on his way to remove the last piece of lace covering her with his teeth.

  “Nevermind,” she moaned as he reached his destination, her hands now on his head, clutching his hair between her fingers.

  “Just hurry up and tell me—whatever it is,” he said, lowering her panties on the sweet journey down her long, silky legs.

  “There was just something I thought I should mention,” she whispered, drawing him back up to her. Her eyes were on him, and her hands were on the front of his jeans.

  “Tell me,” he ground out as she cupped him through his jeans. He squeezed his eyes shut, balancing himself on his forearms, and prayed she would hurry up with whatever it was that she thought was so dire.

  “Do you remember when I said I’d wait for you?” she whispered, her green eyes locking onto his, her hands slowly starting to unbutton his jeans. He bit down hard on his back teeth.

  He gave a short nod, trying to concentrate on her words. But now her breasts were pressed against him, and her hands began stroking him.

  “Right. Well, I just thought it might be a good time to tell you that I did.”

  Everything in Quinn’s body came to a grinding halt. What the hell was she talking about? God, not that. It all stopped for one painful moment, before blood came roaring to his ears and he found his voice. He shook his head. “No. No, you didn’t,” he whispered.

  She nodded, staring straight through him in that way only she could. “Yeah, uh-huh, I did,” and then
she slid her hands down his pants.

  He swore out loud.

  “I waited. For this. For you,” she whispered, reaching up to kiss him again.

  Quinn’s mind whirled. “What about that ugly Daniel guy Claire told me about?” he rasped against her lips, trying to form coherent thoughts, trying to wrap his head around this.

  She pressed her head into the pillow and frowned at him. “Claire said what? Daniel isn’t ugly—”

  “What about—”

  “I never thought you’d be such a talker in bed, Quinn.”

  Quinn opened his mouth, about to remedy her impression of him, but Holly continued speaking.

  “His hands weren’t your hands, and, God, I just wanted your hands on me, Quinn.”

  Quinn stared at her, their bodies still pressed together, and he couldn’t find the words for the emotion coursing through his body.

  Every single ounce of self-control he’d been desperately holding on to was obliterated. He locked his eyes with hers as he pulled Holly’s hands from his body, holding them above her head on the pillow. He bent his head and showed her with his mouth, with his body, what she meant to him. He wanted to make up for the years they’d been apart, for the years they’d gone without loving each other. As he worshiped her body, her words echoed in his mind. As she whimpered beneath him, as she clutched his head, tugging at his hair, as her nails dug into his skin, and as he entered her, he knew that no matter what happened, this woman would always claim a piece of him.

  Chapter Eight

  Quinn lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

  His hands weren’t your hands… How on earth did she expect that he’d hear her say these things and be able to just say good-bye in a few weeks? He couldn’t. He knew what that meant, even if she didn’t want to admit it. She’d waited for him, just as she’d said that night ten years ago. It humbled him. And it made him never want to be without her again.

  What the hell were they going to do now? Somehow, someway, Holly always managed to complicate things. Two hours ago, was he even thinking that he’d be in this bed, after having what had to be the most profound, intense sexual experience of his entire life? No. And a few nights ago, when Holly was calling him a chicken, did he even entertain that the hot-as-hell woman had actually kept her promise and “waited” for him?

  What were their options? He’d offered her a job and she’d refused. She was scared to live here again. How could he argue that? He hadn’t lived through what she had, couldn’t fully understand her fears. But he also knew that she was living in denial if she thought that running back to her old life could make the memories disappear.

  He had his own demons, his own guilt. But if working through them meant having Holly in his life, then he’d do it. He was going to see Christine. He needed to fully atone for what he did and how he failed her. He had tried once, but it had been too soon, and the wounds had been too fresh for both of them. And despite the fact that he and Christine would never have worked, and they never should have been together in the first place, he needed to apologize. He needed to, in order to move on.

  Holly was going to push him away. He knew that. Or she was going to try, anyway. She put on this brave front, but she was probably the most vulnerable woman he’d ever met. And she didn’t deal with her feelings. Hell, not that he was an expert, but the amount of emotion that Holly was holding on to inside—the amount that she thought she had control over—was going to come to the surface one way or another. And he was determined to be the man she needed him to be when those emotions finally surfaced. He listened to her deep, even breathing as she slept curled against him, while the rain pattered against the windows, and he wished that they could stay here forever.

  …

  She was warm, and she was safe, and everything was as it should be.

  Hard, firm flesh beneath her fingertips and the increasing rhythm of her heart told her Quinn was still beside her—or half under her. Her head was on his chest, and her leg was wrapped around his. And there wasn’t any place in the world she’d rather be. She could fool herself for the rest of the night that this could last. Why did she need to think of all the reasons this was wrong? Why couldn’t she live in the moment, just this once?

  “Welcome back, Holly,” Quinn said, the smile in his voice obvious, the words achingly familiar. Quinn. Exquisite memories wafted over her like a billowing silk scarf. Much better than any dream. She slowly lifted her head and looked into the face she adored.

  “Hi,” she said, smiling at him. He was magnificent to look at. His hair was mussed, and a five o’clock shadow outlined the strong lines of his face. There was warmth in his eyes that was so disarming, and so genuine, that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

  “Feels like I’ve been waiting forever to make love to you,” Quinn said gruffly, a gentle smile teasing his lips as he smoothed the tangled hair off her shoulders.

  “You were worth waiting for,” Holly whispered as her eyes traced his features, and inevitably trailed down his bare flesh. She felt desire begin to bubble again. No man she’d ever dated had that effect on her. And it occurred to her that this was the first time since Jennifer and Rick had died that she felt peace. And truly happy.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, Holly, I don’t think we’ll make it out of this bed until next week,” Quinn said, one hand grazing her spine.

  “If only that were an option,” she murmured, resting her chin on his chest.

  “I can’t think of any other thing I’d rather do for the entire week than stay right here. Speaking of which, where’s Ella?”

  “She’s with Claire for the night,” Holly said, as his eyes reflected her thoughts.

  “So, we’ve got the whole night.”

  “Yup, and I think we need wine,” she said with a sly smile.

  “And food. Do you have anything to eat in that kitchen?”

  “I spent it all on the counters,” she teased.

  “Cute. Very cute,” he said, smiling as he kissed her.

  “I have about six jars of organic baby food and a giant bag of kettle chips,” she said sheepishly. She had planned on devouring that bag in lieu of dinner and in dedication to her sorry life. “Groceries were the last item on my to-do list, but then you showed up, and look what’s happened.”

  “Yeah, a real shame.” He laughed. “Fine, you like Chinese food?”

  Holly nodded. Really, she couldn’t care less what they ate.

  “Okay, I’ll order,” he said, sitting up. He reached for his jeans and pulled his cell phone from the pocket. Holly contentedly watched as he ordered enough for ten people.

  “You keep the Chinese restaurant on speed dial?” she asked, smiling.

  He grinned. “I don’t have time to cook,” he said, falling back on the pillows and tugging her along with him. “So let’s talk.”

  “About what?” Dread hummed through her. “We don’t need to talk about anything,” she said, drumming her fingers against his chest. She couldn’t stop touching him.

  The corner of Quinn’s mouth lifted. “Funny, because a few hours ago, when your hands were down my pants, you couldn’t seem to stop talking—”

  Holly swallowed the nervous laugh in her throat and pursed her lips. “That is crass.”

  “Not crass. Honest,” he said with one of those disarming smiles.

  “Well, that was then and this is now. And really, now that everything is out in the open, what more could there possibly be to discuss?” she asked, her voice trailing off as he rolled his eyes.

  “Haven’t you figured out yet that your clever little attempts at getting out of honest conversation only make me more intent on figuring you out?”

  “I thought men hated talking. Isn’t it me who’s supposed to want the heartfelt discussion?”

  “Yeah, normally the last thing I’d want to do is have a heart-to-heart. But nothing about us is normal,” Quinn said, his eyes not leaving her face.

  “Fine. I figured you
might…have a few questions,” she said hesitantly as she touched the hairs on Quinn’s chest.

  “Can you stop doing that?” Quinn asked when she accidentally pulled at one.

  “Sorry, I thought it was gray,” she said, barely holding onto her smile.

  He laughed and then kissed her. “Nice try.”

  “There is nothing to tell. Really. I just never met anyone that interested me. I’ve been busy. Now that I’m back here and have time off work—”

  Quinn’s laugh and the rumbling of his chest under her chin made her stop speaking to glare at him—or try to glare at him, anyway. He kissed her, long and hard, and then ruined that when he began laughing against her lips.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You’re such a liar. You expect me to believe that the only reason we’re in this bed is because you happened to have some spare time?”

  Holly nodded. She couldn’t look him in the eye though, so she concentrated on looking at his eyebrows. “You don’t have to make it sound absurd.”

  “It is absurd—and a pile of bull. We are here because this is what we’ve both wanted for a long, long time. And correct me if I’m wrong, but while you happened to be naked under me, I believe you where whispering something about my hands.”

  “It was just an expression.”

  “Funny, I’m not familiar with that one.”

  “And it’s actually quite rude for you to bring up random things we said while we were in bed together.”

  “Well, you can bring up anything I said and repeat it to me now if you’d like. I stand by whatever I said while I was taking off your clothes or inside—”

  “No need to repeat anything. And I didn’t say anything, anyways,” Holly said in a shrill voice as the recollection of the words he’d whispered infused her with a searing heat. Quinn was very talented in expressing his thoughts, she’d learned.

  He tapped his finger on his chin. “Well, I’m pretty sure I heard the words faster and hard—”