by Dee J. Adams
Ellie sipped her water and set it on the coffee table. Her hair fell forward in a silky wave before she brushed it over her shoulder and sat back. Those dark green eyes watched him steadily. “What’s up?” She stifled a yawn.
“Nothing.” He rubbed his hands against his thighs. “I wanted to make sure you slept tonight.” That sounded decent. Actually, it sounded completely lame and he stood. He couldn’t sit here with her, wanting her so badly, not knowing if he should or shouldn’t make love to her. “Look, I’m going to…”
She looked away from him. “I keep thinking she’s going to come home, you know. I keep thinking she’s going to walk through the door any minute after a long day at work, but…”
Wham, right in the gut, she got him. With those unsure eyes and the quiver in her voice. Quinn sat down and put his arm around her. Ellie rested her head on his shoulder. This was why he’d come inside.
“God,” she said after a minute. “I’m not going to cry anymore.” She pressed her palms against her eyes, but didn’t move from her spot. “I’m tired of crying. I’m tired.”
“Then go to sleep,” he murmured against her head. “Go slip under your covers and—”
“But I like this. This is nice.” She snuggled deeper into him.
Shit, it was nice. Really fucking nice. Having his arm around her, feeling her next to him. Quinn took it a step farther and settled her on his lap, same as he’d done last night. Stupid thing to do since he’d just decided he wasn’t making love to her tonight. Not when she was so wiped out. He eased some hair behind her ear, breathed her in. He wanted to know more about her. “When did you swear off drinking?”
“I never swore it off. I just never did it, period.”
He found that hard to believe, especially in this town, where child actors entered rehab before they got their driver’s license. “You mean you’ve never taken a drink ever? I just figured that you had too much at a party and quit cold turkey.”
She shook her head, traced the Formula Racing Design logo on his T-shirt. “No. Last night was the only time I’ve had any alcohol.”
“Seriously? You mean you never even had the obligatory drink on your twenty-first birthday? How’s that possible? Ashley must’ve taken you out.”
Ellie grinned, clearly reliving a fond memory. “Oh, she did. She got blitzed enough for the both of us. But Ash is the party girl.”
“So why aren’t you a party girl like your best friend?”
Her smile faded. “My big brother was killed in an ‘alcohol-related incident.’” She put quotes around the words with her fingers. “And it was enough to scare me away from the stuff.”
Damn. This lady was no stranger to heartache. The knowledge sent another punch of emotion to Quinn’s gut. He exhaled and met her gaze. “I’m sorry.” He paused, needed to know… “How old were you?”
“Just shy of eight. He was sixteen.”
“Shit, that’s young,” he breathed. For both of them.
She nodded and swallowed. Her gaze focused on her lap. “It changed everything.”
“What happened? Unless you don’t want to tell me,” Quinn said.
“No, it’s okay. I can talk about it.” She rested her head against his shoulder and it felt so good Quinn nearly sighed. “Phil was great. He was the perfect big brother.”
Quinn held back his retort about big brothers.
“He was so smart. Sensitive too. But he was shy. He had horrible acne and aside from a couple of buddies, he was really self-conscious and kept to himself. One Friday night, he got invited to a friend’s house. The guy’s parents had gone out of town and they thought instead of hanging out at the house, it’d be more fun to go out to the family boat. I guess he’d talked about it at school and a few other kids showed up and the next thing you know there was a party on the boat. Phil’s friend had an older brother and he came by with some friends. They had alcohol. They egged Phil on and he drank. I don’t think he’d ever had a drink before. Not like that.
“Before he’d left the house for the party he’d been stung by a bee and his arm had swelled. He took a Benadryl, but he wasn’t going to let it stop him from going to Bobby’s place. Between the beer and the Benadryl, he got sick. The guys all laughed because they heard him getting sick over the rail. None of them realized that he’d gone overboard until it was too late.”
Quinn closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry. That must have been brutal.”
“Like I said, it changed everything.”
They sat on the couch, not speaking for several minutes, but the silence was comfortable and neither seemed compelled to fill it with inane conversation. Ellie seemed lost in thought. Maybe about her brother. Probably about Ashley. But what she needed was not to think for a while and when she lifted her face, her dark green eyes glassy, she cupped his cheek in her warm hand. Her touch was so soft, so tender. Almost as if she were consoling him when it should be the other way around.
When she looked at his mouth, it was all over.
“Elle,” he whispered. He bent his head a few inches and kissed her. Touched his lips to hers in a soft caress. Yeah…they were good at kissing. She didn’t deny him or hold back, but she didn’t devour him either. Didn’t throw herself at him like last night.
God, she tasted like heaven, all soft and sweet and warm. Their lips molded together perfectly. On and on, the absolute best kisses he’d ever had. Her fingers eased to the back of his head, teased the hair at his neck, stroking subtly and building heat in his body.
“I want you to forget for a little while.” He kissed her again, worshipped her lips with his mouth, ran his fingers against her scalp and through her hair. A little hum vibrated in her throat and his own body stirred to life. But this wasn’t about him. Not for one second.
Aw, hell. He was a lying sack of shit. Because moving his tongue inside her mouth and tasting her sweetness made him feel good too. Made him want more. He wanted to touch all of her, taste all of her.
Only she was wiped out and needed sleep. Not sex.
Bingo. He knew exactly how to put her to bed.
“You’re all covered up,” he whispered at her lips. He kissed her again, nibbled a little. “But tonight I’m touching all the skin I can’t see.”
Chapter Seventeen
Quinn watched Ellie’s lids snap open. Her eyes flashed, understanding clear. Tonight he’d touch every inch of skin under the cotton. But he didn’t give her a chance to think about it before kissing her again. He fed at her mouth, loved her with his lips.
She was right on board, giving exactly what she got, turning him inside out with her little hum and her outrageous curves.
“I’m going to touch you,” he told her, “the way I’ve wanted to touch you for days.”
A low throaty moan as he swept his tongue in her mouth was her only reply. He ran his hand along the side of her body, over the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist and the perfection of her hip, down her thigh, her leg and to her foot. Curled up as she was on his lap, it was easy to reach all of her. He started the trek back up, but under her baggy pajamas this time. Slowly his hand traveled up her leg, along her calf. She flexed and her strength sent a sharp jolt of lust to his groin. The pajamas gave way to his probing hand, bunching together as he continued the exploration of her thigh. She moaned into his mouth as his fingers moved farther up, pressing against her flesh. At the top of her thigh, his thumb neared dangerously hot territory and she rolled her body in an arch, seeking more. But so subtly.
He retreated back down her leg, skimming the soft length, learning the curves he’d seen already. Still he kissed her. Soft and deep. A hint of mint and the smell of strawberries surrounded him. When his hand crept under her shirt, she arched into him, her breast fitting into his palm as if it were made for him. No bra to fumble with. A sexy little sound vibrated from her throat and Quinn struggled with his raging libido. Her tight nipple prodded his palm before he rolled it in his fingers. He wanted to taste that part of
her, suck that sweet bud into his mouth…
Quinn adjusted Ellie on his lap and moved his kisses down her throat. He worked the buttons of her top with swift fingers and opened her up to his eyes. She had the kind of body that kept men fantasizing for a lifetime.
“Jesus, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He cupped her fully with one hand and drew her nipple into his mouth the way he’d done that morning. He teased with his tongue, lapped at her, swirled around the tip. Anything and everything to get her thinking nothing but how good it felt to be worshipped. By the way she gripped his head and held him close, he figured it was working. Her breathy panting had him harder than a frickin’ post. As he kept his mouth busy at her breast, his free hand traveled south, heading toward the drawstring of her bottoms. Her flat belly felt smoother than silk.
But he wanted this to last as he long as he could, wanted her to forget for as long as possible, so he dodged the most important spot and ran his hand along her hip. Her bare hip.
Oh, Jesus. No wonder there hadn’t been panty lines. She wasn’t wearing underwear. Not even a thong. His dick protested sharply with the injustice of it all because this party was strictly for Ellie.
But even with his hand in her pajamas, he took his time. Slowly he caressed her hip, let his thumb play along her nonexistent bikini line. Unmistakable heat radiated from her core and her little whimper begged for his touch.
“You’re so hot,” he murmured, and he took her mouth again. Kissed her a little harder this time, and just as thoroughly.
She clutched his T-shirt, hung on with a grip so powerful she pulled it tight across his shoulders. Her sweet tongue glided against his in perfect rhythm. He could only tease her for so long. Every time she arched into him she sent a searing bolt of sensation exploding through his veins, revving his blood.
“I’m going to touch you,” he rasped at her lips. But this time the touch he meant was obvious. His hand lingered above the exact spot where she wanted him most. Her breath stalled, waiting for him. Slowly, so slowly he cupped her mound, slid four fingers between her legs and palmed her.
Groaning against his mouth, she pressed into his hand, already hot and slick.
“Is that good?” he asked.
The rhetorical question stayed unanswered when he kissed her and made it impossible for words. Nevertheless, her moan told him all he needed. So did her body. Two fingers slid along her entrance. She was silky smooth except for a little patch of soft curly hair.
“You’re wet for me,” he whispered.
“Oh, God,” she panted, eyes closed tight. He didn’t want her talking, didn’t want her doing anything but feeling his hand on her. In her. So he kissed her again, drove his tongue deep into her mouth and reaped the reward of her panting gasp.
“Shh. Don’t say anything. Just let me make you feel good.” His dick was so hard he almost couldn’t stand the pressure of his jeans. He’d never been this painfully hard before, had never wanted so badly, not only with his body, but with everything in his system. He’d also never wanted so desperately to please a woman.
She shook her head restlessly against his arm. “I can’t,” she said. But as she uttered the words, she moved into his touch once again.
“Yes, you can,” he told her. “It’s okay to feel good. Let me make you feel good.”
One tear streaked down her temple and he kissed it away. Tasted the salt and the sweetness of her skin. He eased a finger inside of her and clenched his teeth at the erotic slide, the way her body took him in and grabbed hold.
“Jesus,” he whispered. “That’s so sexy.” So he pushed another finger in, crowded the tight slick entrance and swept his tongue into her mouth.
She sucked on his tongue as her muscles clenched tight around his fingers, and the sensation nearly shot Quinn off the sofa. He wanted nothing more than to strip them both bare and thrust into her with everything he had. He wanted to own her. Drive inside her until neither one of them could think straight.
Instead, he forced himself to stay still. Except for his hands and his mouth. He worked her with his tongue, with his fingers, his hand. He teased, he stroked, caressed. He delved deep, then shallow, then deep again. Perspiration beaded her brow. A drop of sweat trickled down his face. He circled her clit with his thumb and she gasped into his mouth.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Just feel it.”
“It’s too much. I c-can’t.” She was close. He felt it every time she pressed against his hand. Heard it in every ragged breath.
“Yes, you can. Let it happen,” he urged softly. “Let go.” He increased the pressure and the pace, driving her faster to the end. She moved into his hand, already slick with her cream, keeping rhythm with his strokes. She was so damn beautiful giving it up for him. “That’s it. Come around my fingers. Come into my hand, Elle. I want to feel you come.”
She cried out at the same time her body tensed. Her inner muscles squeezed his fingers, milking him with spasm after spasm and he felt every pulse in his rock-hard dick. Only when her climax ended did Quinn realize he was breathing as hard as Ellie. He pulled her closely against him and held tight.
He didn’t know what to say, what to do. Their breathing returned to normal and still he kept her close. Their clothes were damp with sweat, his hand soaked with her come. Despite the burning in his body, a foreign sense of satisfaction bubbled to the surface. He kissed her forehead and pulled his hand out of her pajamas before adjusting her against him more comfortably.
Her grip loosened on his shirt. “I think I ruined this,” she whispered, trying to ease the wrinkles out of the cotton.
“I don’t care.” He dipped his head, found her lips and kissed her softly. “You can ruin any of my clothes anytime you want. We’ll add this to my suit and start a list.” He caught the smile on her lips with another kiss before meeting her heavy lidded gaze. “Go to sleep,” he murmured.
“Quinn…” She stroked his jaw with tender fingers in an intimacy he’d never known. He couldn’t name the mix of emotion in her eyes. Regret? Satisfaction? He was afraid to find out. On top of that she looked bone tired. She squirmed on his lap and made him harder in the process. “What about you?” she whispered. “Let m—”
“Shh,” he said at her lips. “I’ll be fine. Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She snuggled against him and a surge of possessiveness took solid root in Quinn’s chest. She’d opened for him, let him in. Getting that far with this woman meant a whole hell of a lot more than it should. She was his. He’d marked her. Maybe he still hadn’t had her the way he wanted, but when she woke up, he was going to fix that.
Quinn eased off the sofa and carried Ellie into her room. The bed had already been turned back and he slid her inside the cool sheets. She never opened her eyes as he kissed her cheek and stroked some hair out of her face.
Then, only to prove what a masochistic idiot he was, he stripped off his damp T-shirt and climbed in next to her. He didn’t dare take off his jeans and unleash the animal in his pants. He didn’t have that much control. After he pulled her into his arms, she cuddled closer and sighed against him.
He might not sleep tonight, but at least she would.
Something woke Ellie, but she didn’t immediately open her eyes. The soft cotton of her pajamas slid against her skin and a smile spread across her lips. How long had it been since she’d felt this relaxed? This…sated?
Sated? Her eyes snapped open to a dark room and an empty bed, but she heard the pipes squeaking in Ashley’s bathroom. Falling against the pillows, she covered her face with her hands. Last night hadn’t been a dream. Quinn had made her come so hard she’d seen spots.
And he’d slept with her for the second night in a row. She vaguely remembered his touches during the night. The soft caress of his hand along her arm, her waist, his lips sliding along her neck, her collarbone. She tingled remembering how the sensations had shimmied through her in delicious waves.
How many years had
it been since she’d been really touched by a man? How many years since a man had given her an orgasm? A star-studded climax like none other she’d ever experienced. That was just with his hand. Imagine what he could do with the rest of his body.
She checked the clock. 5:20 in the blessed a.m. Early morning sun was just beginning to lighten the day. Hopefully, Quinn hadn’t been up all night. He’d needed sleep as badly as she had.
Ellie padded to her bathroom, used the toilet, rinsed with mouthwash and ran a brush through her hair. Hospital visiting hours didn’t begin until eight so she had a couple more hours to sleep.
Who was she kidding? Not with Quinn around.
That same mix of guilt and wanting tussled in her heart.
In the course of a day, everything had changed. The night before last, she’d wanted him and the comfort his body could provide and he’d balked. Last night, everything had changed again. The road was clear. If he wanted her, he could have her. They both knew it. The sparks between them were bound to explode.
She came out of her bathroom and found Quinn standing in the doorway, looking a little rumpled and very gorgeous. No shirt, no shoes, top button of his jeans undone and an erection straining against the zipper. Drops of water glistened on a chest rippling with muscles. Oh, she’d felt them under his shirt, but looking at them was a whole different reality. Yum with a capital Y.
“Hope I didn’t wake you. I purposely used the other bathroom so I wouldn’t,” he said.
She shook her head. “You didn’t. I…uh…” Looking at him made it hard to concentrate on anything. “I had about eight hours so…” She shrugged. “My internal clock is ready to go.”
His light eyes sparked and he took a step toward her, a grin curving his lips. “Oh, yeah?”
Oh baby.
He stopped in front of her and Ellie knew the time had come. The moment they’d been dancing around for over a week. His spicy aftershave surrounded her in a sinfully delicious haze. He’d shaved for her. At five-twenty in the morning.
