by Shara Azod
That apparently got under his skin given the way his face hardened. “That’s really not the way to get into my good graces, Miss Delaney. I’d expect at least a modicum of respect.”
“For what?” She gave a humorless laugh. The nerve of the man! “You’ve done nothing to earn my respect. All you’ve done is keep me waiting. All day. While I realize things happen and appointments run long, I’ve been sitting in your lobby for seven hours with no expectation of when my audience would be heard and with the promise that, if I left to, oh, say, get a bite to eat, and my number came up, I’d lose the meeting altogether. Not only have you not earned my respect, you’ve made me want to punch you in the nuts.” She said all this in an even tone, with a smile. That should count for something, right? Not exactly the way to get the giant corporation to fund her shelter, but it made her feel better. Of course, she felt more than a little guilty. The House really, desperately needed this.
“Miss Delaney, everything I do, I do for a reason.” What a smug son of a bitch!
“Oh, I see. Whoever doesn’t get tired of waiting for you gets serious consideration. Did you ever think that, had I not been here, I could have been doing something to raise money so I wouldn’t need to waste your precious time? Instead, you chose to waste mine.” Hands on her hips, Quinn was really getting going. She might not get this grant, but she’d make damned sure this bastard remembered her. “Understand me, Mr. Campbell. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t absolutely vital. Without your grant, Harmony House closes. Period. What we offer these women is the chance to make so much more for themselves if they had a little help. We offer a rare chance to get out of horrible situations they otherwise wouldn’t have. We give the powerless the power to fight. I’d thought this would be the perfect opportunity for both of us. Harmony House would stay open, and your company would have the chance to invest in the community in a positive way. Your company may have a stellar reputation, but you, Mr. Campbell, do not. Now, I can see that, not only did I waste my time, your company—you in particular—was never truly serious in the first place. Why did you even offer? Is it to strengthen your image at Christmas? If so, it lacks a little some-some.”
Through all her tirade, it was easy to see Carson struggling to keep his fierce demeanor. He’d lost the uninterested, bored expression the second he’d really looked at her. Now, he was losing the indignant, angry expression as well. It its place a look of something like awe took residence on his face and wouldn’t be chased away. That was just freaking weird.
When he didn’t say anything, she cocked a hip, resting a hand on it. “Well?”
He swallowed, then got a calculating look in his eyes that made Quinn immediately wary. Men like Carson generally looked like that when they were about to get all kinds of devious. Unfortunately for her, the look was good on him. Which was just straight bad. If Quinn had a weakness, it the bad boy. She liked her men intelligent, big, strong, loyal, with a very healthy naughty side.
“Okay, maybe we got started off on the wrong foot.” He fastened his suit jacket before standing and moving around his desk to stand before her. When he did, she caught a glimpse of why before the tails fell in front of him. The man was aroused. Extremely so. And he had a lot to arouse. “I suggest we start over.”
Quinn snorted, diverting her eyes from Carson for one fatal second. Truthfully that bulge was giving her all the wrong ideas. The next thing she knew, he’d grabbed her and pulled her against an impossibly hard body. And an impossibly hard erection. She gasped, sucking in a breath to deliver a scathing comment, but the second she opened her mouth, Carson swooped down, pressing his lips to hers.
At first, all she could do was stiffen, too shocked to do anything. But when his wicked tongue swept between her lips to flick against her own, something inside Quinn…shifted.
All her life, Quinn had this ideal about how a relationship should be. Her own parents had died before she’d had a chance to really appreciate the dynamics of romantic relationships but, though they’d never married, she remembered them as a very loving couple and doting parents. She’d always imagined they’d been like those men and women in fairy tales, the ones who knew the second they saw each other they’d spend the rest of their lives together. Well, she couldn’t say that about Carson Campbell, but his kiss more than curled her toes. It made her want to drop trou and proffer panties. Not that she would. At all. With a little helpless moan, Quinn kissed him back. If she was going to be helpless to resist him, by God, he was going to feel the same way about her.
Firm lips sucked at hers; he even nipped her bottom lip just a little, which was a huge turn-on. Quinn found her fingers fisting in his jacket when one of his hands wandered down her waist to the curve of her hip, then to settle on her plump ass. When he squeezed, she squealed. What the fuck? She’d never made that sound before! Especially not with an asshole like Campbell.
With more strength than she thought she possessed, Quinn pushed him away. Though she was breathing hard after the erotic exchange, she did everything she could to make her face stern.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
A slow, sexy grin spread those exquisitely formed lips. “Kissing one of the most desirable women I’ve ever seen. You know, getting off to a better start than before.”
She shoved him farther backward. He didn’t let his hold on her waist go, but did back out of her personal space somewhat. “You think this is better? At least before you didn’t practically assault me.”
“Ah, but it’s only assault if you didn’t like it. Judging by your reaction, I’d say you enjoyed it very much indeed.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“Am I? If I slipped my hand between your legs, are you telling me I wouldn’t find you wet for me?”
That was it. Before she could stop herself, Quinn slapped his face. Hard. “Asshole!”
To her complete and utter astonishment, Carson…laughed. Laughed! Raising his hands in surrender, backing away from her slightly, he said, “All right, all right. No more kissing. Right now, anyway. How about this. I find myself…intrigued by you. Your passion for your cause is certainly admirable, but everything about you appeals to me on a primitive level.”
“I’m not sleeping with you,” she said flatly, strangely disappointed he’d headed there.
“Oh, I’m not looking to sleep with you, Miss Delaney. I want you, but for more than a night.”
Quinn’s bravado faltered. Confused, she found herself asking, “What do you mean?” Why had she asked that? Hell, she didn’t care what he meant, this was so not going to happen.
“I want you, Miss Delaney. Whenever I want you. What I’m proposing is that you give yourself to me until our arrangement is no longer…fulfilling for me. In exchange, I’ll give you the grant.”
She blinked, opened her mouth, then shut it again. Finally, she found her voice. “Are you out of your ever-loving mind? Prostitute myself? Fuck you until you’re tired of me?”
He shrugged. “You can look at it that way, I suppose. I see it as more of an exploration of all that fire between us a moment ago.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Come on, Quinn. Aren’t you even the least bit curious about how pleasurable it could be?”
“Curious enough to sell myself?” Did she sound bitter? Funny. The means to help so many women lay at her fingertips. All she had to do was sacrifice herself to take it. Could she do it? When she thought about the hopeful faces she’d left that morning, the women depending on her to figure out a way to keep Harmony House open, she realized she was defeated. It wasn’t that it would be a hardship. Carson Campbell was definitely drool-worthy. The question was, could she live with her decision in the morning? Could she sell her body for the cause?
Then she caught him looking at her lips, licking his own. She had the feeling if she said no, he had every intention of kissing her into submission. And she found she wasn’t so much repulsed as excited.
Chapter Three
Three days. Carso
n had given her three days to decide whether or not her precious shelter was enough of an incentive for her to be his for as long as he pleased. Generally he wouldn’t have given it a second thought until the end of that three days, but there was something very different about Quinn Delaney. Just the thought of the woman had him turned inside out, unable to concentrate on anything other than her. He found himself thinking of her at the oddest times, his mind wandering to fantasize about finally getting her where he wanted her—underneath him. And she wasn’t even the type of woman he usually found himself entangled with, but then, most of those women wouldn’t have slapped him. This woman, though…
He had to admit, he was more than a little bit enthralled. Not that he’d ever admit it to a soul. All those mouthwatering curves, all that dark skin—to say nothing of the fiery temper—all of it called to his baser nature. All of Miss Delaney was like a spicy-sweet dessert confection he wanted to devour down to the last drop. The thoughts of hot, sweaty, kinky sex with her had kept him hard as iron since meeting her.
God! Sweaty, kinky, depraved sex. He wanted it all from her. Would take it all from her. One way or another, Carson would have that woman in his bed. If he really had his way, she’d never leave it.
Except he didn’t do long-term relationships. Oh, well. He’d do a long-term…something. Fuck buddy? What did one call it? Not that it mattered. He still planned on keeping her. Who’d have thought parting with money could be so enjoyable? Now, Carson sat at his desk unable to focus on anything other than the intriguing way those slacks Quinn had worn stretched over her ass. What he wouldn’t do to cup that luscious ass in his hands. Preferably as he pounded into her from behind.
And just like that, his cock strained for attention. “Me, me, me, me!” it seemed to scream at him. Yeah, he definitely had an itch he needed to scratch.
“Mr. Campbell.” His assistant’s voice brought him back to reality. “Ms. Joyner is here to see you.”
Kaitlyn Joyner. The very tall, very blonde, most recent ex-lover. She’d never tried to hold on too tightly, but Carson suspected that had been to keep him interested. It had worked for the most part. He’d let her hang around, spending his money, for the better part of four months. Funny. Since speaking with Quinn yesterday, he hadn’t once thought about all the adventurous bed play Kaitlyn had allowed him to indulge in. Guess that was that.
“Send her in, then settle her account.” Irene knew that was code for cutting off her access to the account he’d set up for her when they’d first begun their arrangement. They’d been down this road a few times.
“Consider it done, sir.” Did Irene sound pleased? Whatever. The woman didn’t have to like his girlfriends; she just had to manage them.
On that note, Kaitlyn breezed in, cool as ever. “I didn’t hear from you yesterday, Carson.” She drew out the A in his name with an “ahhh” sound, making him wince every single time she said it. “I was worried.” Her bright red lips pouted prettily, her blonde hair perfectly in place. The short, sleeveless red dress perfectly matched her lips in color, as did the red platform pumps she wore. In other words, she looked as fake as a mannequin. Yeah. He’d found her sexy once.
“Because I’m finished,” he began without preamble.
She blinked. “Finished?” Looking adorably confused, Kaitlyn didn’t fool him for a second. Carson had seen her eyes flash briefly. Oh, yeah. She knew.
“With our arrangement. I’m sorry for the short notice, but I have a project coming up that will take all of my time. I’ll be out of touch from tonight until further notice, and I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”
“I see,” she said breezily. “Well, I suppose there’s no ill will.” When she smiled, Carson could almost believe it was genuine. Almost.
“You can stay in the apartment until you find a new place. If you’d rather pick up the lease and stay, just let me know.”
“I will. I’ll give you a call in a couple of weeks—”
“Leave a message with Ms. Donahue. She can make any arrangements in my absence.”
Kaitlyn finally allowed a shadow of emotion to cross her face. Not surprisingly, it was anger. Carson really didn’t blame her, but still. She’d known the score going in. “I see,” she replied mildly. “Well, I’ll be going then.” She flashed him a wicked smile. “Unless you’d like to see what I’m wearing under this dress. What do you say? One little parting fuck?” She only used graphic language when she wanted to distract him, usually from something she was about to do.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen everything you’ve got, Kaitlyn. I really don’t have time for this.” To emphasize his point, he glanced at his watch. Funny, he usually enjoyed her games.
“You can’t tell me you don’t want to spread me on top of that big ole mahogany desk, spread my legs and feast on me. I won’t believe you.” So she was going to try to seduce him. Odds said she’d suggest not using a condom next. She’d say because it was something they’d never done and she just had to feel him against her before they parted ways. As if to illustrate her words, she unbuttoned her dress, letting it pool at her feet. Did the red silk and lace against her pale skin seem less desirable than it used to? And why did he have a vision of Quinn wearing the same exact outfit standing in that very spot doing the very same thing? Fuck.
This would normally have been the point where he’d let her think she was playing him, then turn the tables on her. He’d have, indeed, fucked her, though not without protection. Then he’d have scoffed at her childish notion she could get one over on him. Today, however, he found the thought of fucking her…distasteful. Not to mention, he didn’t bloody want to. He wanted Quinn Delaney.
“Not interested, Kaitlyn. I need to go.” He slung his jacket on, picking up his briefcase. “If there’s nothing else…?”
For a moment, Carson thought she might not leave. Then she turned dressed with jerky movements before turning on her heel to stalk out without another word. All of a sudden the office felt too stuffy. He had to get out of here. No, he needed to see Quinn. Kaitlyn left a bad taste in his mouth. The woman reminded him of—well, of meaningless sex. For some reason, the very thought repulsed him, which was nonsense.
Maybe it was because he was obsessing over his new decadent plaything. His libido had taken a dive as soon as Kaitlyn walked in. After a day and a half of being constantly hard, thinking of Quinn, it felt wrong to be deflated now.
“I’m going out.” He threw the words at Irene as he stalked past her, throwing on his winter overcoat as he walked away.
Chicago during the winter was colder than a witch’s tit, but thinking about Quinn had him growing warmer by the second. Waiting for the car to make the slow crawl to Old Town, Carson felt as if he were climbing out of his skin. Too many people on the streets, tourists come to see the lights of the Magnificent Mile, locals scurrying around doing their holiday shopping. Didn’t these assholes understand he had somewhere to be?
By the time the car rolled to a stop outside the Victorian that was Harmony House, Carson was in rare form. He needed Quinn, damn it. The why didn’t matter, partially because he didn’t understand it and partially because he didn’t fucking care.
But as soon as he walked up the steps he knew something was dreadfully wrong.
He’d barely lifted his hand to knock when the door flew open, a young woman with a nose ring, jet black hair shaved on the sides with the long, flowing, Mohawk-looking streak in the center colored winter white stood there staring at him belligerently.
“What the fuck? I’m going to be late for work. Move, man!” Giving him a shove, she flew down the steps with the agility of the very young and the gait of the very angry.
“Are you the lawyer?” Another woman appeared, this one much, much older, clutching her muumuu and looking like a mother hen. “You have to get Gia out of jail! She didn’t do nothing!”
What the ever-loving hell?
“Janice, I haven’t called a law—” Quinn. She came rushing to the door
and stopped cold when she saw him.
So, someone was in trouble, eh? Perhaps he wasn’t going to have to wait three days after all.
Chapter Four
Of all the people who could have walked in the fucking door at that very moment, Quinn did not need it to be Carson Campbell. First Gia had been taken in for soliciting—again—then Marsia, who had just run off in a huff, had a total meltdown. Marsia and Gia were sisters, but truthfully, keeping Gia from attempting to make money on her back was a feat none of them had managed to master just yet. There was no money for a lawyer, so Quinn had been just about to go down and try to negotiate with a bail bondsman. With no money, so she was really unsure how she was going to manage that. Being young and impetuous, Marsia didn’t understand that money didn’t just appear and didn’t understand why they couldn’t just magically get her sister out of jail.
And who comes to the door but money itself?
“I have two days,” Quinn growled under her breath, all too aware of the sweet but dimwitted Janice beside her.
“One and a half.” The wretch grinned, pushing his way inside then closing the door behind him. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private? I believe we can clear up the plight of—Gia, was it?—in no time.”
Unless Quinn wanted to make a scene that would bring more women to the vestibule to gawk, she had little choice but to show Carson in.
“Follow me,” she groused, turning to stomp toward her office. Holding the door open just long enough for him to clear it, she slammed it shut before locking it. Sometimes some of the girls had a bad habit of just walking in. The room was pretty much soundproof, though why it had been designed that way she had no idea. The door was more than solid. It should afford them much-needed privacy.
But as she turned to throw his offer back at him, cold hard reality slammed into her. There was little choice here. If she said no to his ridiculous offer, women like Gia would be forever lost in the system. Angry young women like Marsia would grow bitter, living from pillar to post, barely scraping by. Women like Janice, who couldn’t look after themselves, would be at the mercy of vicious men who would hurt them just because they could.
