Married to the Maverick Millionaire

by Joss Wood

  “Rubbish! I never wanted you to work overseas, in dangerous countries and situations, but you did and we still talk about your work. Your marriage is over. Your husband died. Okay, so it wasn’t great, but why won’t you talk about it? It’s not like you’re the first person in the world to make a mistake.”

  Because she still, years later, felt like an idiot. Because she’d found herself—a strong, independent woman—in an abusive relationship and not sure how she was going to get out of it. Toby had brainwashed her into thinking she couldn’t make it in the world alone. Up until the day he died and she had to make it on her own. And then she proved him wrong by surviving and then flourishing.

  She’d never allow a man to do that again, to climb so far inside her head to control how she felt about herself. To control anything she did or thought. No matter how much she wanted Quinn, she’d never let him control her, dominate her. And wasn’t sex a manifestation of dominance?

  Or was she just projecting her memories of Toby and sex onto Quinn?

  Cal tapped her finger on the stem of her wineglass, deep in thought. Quinn had never, not once, tried to control her, dominate her or manipulate her, so why did she assume he would be like that in bed? Quinn wasn’t Toby...

  Quinn. Was. Not. Toby. And she was not the woman she’d been with Toby. Everything was in her control. She could choose whether or not to have sex, how much to give or take, how much to allow. This was her life, her body.

  Her heart...

  She could do this.

  “Talk me through it, Quinn. Sleeping with you, I mean.” Her heart knew that sex with Quinn would not be like sex with Toby but her brain still needed a little convincing.

  Quinn pushed his plate away and reached for the wine bottle, dumping a healthy amount in both their glasses. He smiled and it was a potent mixture of slow and sexy. “I could make it good for you, Cal... No, I would make it amazing. You need amazing. You’d leave my bed boneless, satisfied, happy. I’m a good lover.”

  She didn’t doubt it.

  “And that’s not because I’m experienced but because it’s important to me that my lovers enjoy it as much as I do. And you are a hundred times more important to me than anyone I’ve ever taken to my bed before.”

  Cal heard his sincerity, his growly voice sparking a firestorm over her skin.

  “Sex, to me, is about so much more than my orgasm.” Quinn’s eyes on hers dried up all the moisture in her mouth. “It’s about discovering the exact texture of your skin. Is it as creamy, everywhere, as it looks? I’ve always loved your freckles and I need to know if you have freckles in unusual places.”

  His voice was grumbly and so freakin’ sexy as he continued. “I want to feel your hair tickle my stomach. I want to know whether you smell of wildflowers between your legs. I want to drown in the heat of your mouth. You have the sexiest mouth. I bet you don’t know that.”

  He was killing her, Cal decided. Her hands and panties both felt damp with excitement. “I want to hear your moans, your breathy voice in my ear telling me what you like. I want to hold you as you shudder, feel you as you go over the edge. I want to find out what it’s like making love to you, with you, Cal.”

  She couldn’t stay here, not for one more minute. His voice had whipped her up until all she could think about was allowing him to do everything he mentioned and anything else he thought of.

  “So let’s find out.”

  Hunger, hot and hard, flared in his eyes. He stood up and reached for his wallet. “Yeah, let’s.”

  She pushed her chair back and tossed her napkin on the table as she stood up. She looked up at him and nodded once, slowly. This was about sex, about physical relief, nothing more. She could do this...

  This wasn’t about control or deeper feelings or the future. Or her past. This was about walking on the wild side, tasting the storm, riding the wind. This was about Quinn.

  This was about tonight. The future could look after itself.

  * * *

  Quinn whipped open the sliding door and placed a hand on Cal’s back, urging her inside. He slammed the door shut behind him, wincing as she jumped. If she changed her mind, he’d cry like a little girl. He needed this...

  He needed her.

  Please don’t let her change her mind.

  Quinn stepped toward her, searching her face. In her eyes he saw a bit of what-the-hell-are-we-doing but nothing else that would make him back off. She wanted this, wanted him, and his heart swelled.

  Quinn put his hands on her hips, swallowing a relieved sigh when her breasts flattened against his chest, when her hands slid over his pecs to his shoulders and up to his neck. He kissed her, slid his tongue into her open mouth and resisted the urge to squeeze her tighter, to suck her into him. Cal’s hand dropped down his back and yanked his shirt up, trying to find the skin of his lower back. Impatient, he grabbed the back of his collar and pulled his shirt off in one vicious yank. He heard Cal suck in a hard breath and a second later her mouth was on his chest, tasting his skin above his heart with the tip of her tongue.

  Such a small gesture, he thought, closing his eyes. Yet it sent a spark of pure light straight to his groin. Quinn took her face in his hands, bending his head to kiss her. He devoured her, pouring the frustration of the last few weeks of wanting her into his kiss. Cal moaned in his mouth and Quinn thought he was feeling far too much fabric and not enough skin.

  He walked her backward until the back of her calves hit the sofa. “I wish I had the patience to slowly undress you, but I don’t,” Quinn said, his mouth against her neck. “Get naked, as quickly as possible.”

  Quinn yanked off his shoes as she stepped out of her heels and when his hands went to unsnap his pants, she released the ties holding up the bodice of her dress and then pushed the fabric down her hips. Her sexy dress dropped to the floor and she stood in front of him, pink lingerie and most of her endlessly creamy skin on display.

  “I don’t see any freckles,” he murmured, his finger sliding across the tops of her round breasts.

  “You’re not looking closely enough,” Cal replied. She nodded to his still-buttoned pants. “Need some help getting those off?”

  “I can manage.” Quinn smiled as he pushed his pants and boxers over his hips revealing himself to her curious gaze. Her eyes deepened to black and her body flushed.

  With need. For him. Quinn felt a hundred feet tall, Hercules-strong. Unable to wait any longer, he unsnapped her bra and her breasts fell into his hands. Quinn skimmed over her breasts, across her nipples, his eyes falling to her flat stomach. He smiled when he saw her belly button ring. He dropped his hand and touched it, rolling the small diamond between his fingers.

  “I remember when you got this. You were sixteen and mad at your mom because she wouldn’t let you get a tattoo,” he whispered.

  Cal smiled. “And you bought me a chocolate milk shake and told me jokes to stop my tears.” She touched his cheek and then his chin. “You hated it when I cried.”

  “I still hate it when you cry,” Quinn told her, kissing the fingers that drifted over his lips.

  Cal sucked in her bottom lip. “Please don’t let this be a mistake, Quinn.”

  Quinn’s hand lay flat across her lower stomach, warm and solid. “No matter what, Red, we’ll always be friends. Nothing and nobody, not time and not this, will change that.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise. And I promise that I’ll make this good for you.”

  “It’s already amazing,” Cal stated as his fingers slid under the lace of her panties and touched the most feminine part of her.

  Man, she felt marvelous. Wet, hot, girly. God, he was rock-hard and he wanted nothing more than to slide into her, feel her engulf him, hot and ready. But this wasn’t about him; this was about Cal. He’d promised to make sex wonderful for her, to allow
her to feel what she never had before. He wanted to make this special, to build her up, to let her experience the magic that was fantastic sex. It felt right that he was sharing this with her, that he was showing her how hot, dirty, crazy and wonderful sex could be. They’d done so much else together, had experienced so many firsts, that it seemed, well, fitting that he should show her how amazing sex could be.

  Reminding himself to go slowly, he pushed her panties down her smooth thighs and gently lowered her to the couch. He bent down, dragged his wallet out of his pants pocket and found his emergency condom. He ripped the packaging open, slid the latex on and turned to face Cal, lying on the couch, open to his gaze. With her red curls, dark blue eyes, luscious skin and that made-to-sin-with-him mouth, she was the most beautiful woman he’d seen in his life.

  “God, Cal,” he whispered and then moaned when her thighs opened as he settled on top of her, his erection finding her hot, secret, girly opening.

  “You haven’t found any more freckles yet and you don’t know if I smell like wildflowers,” Cal whispered into his ear as her nails dug into the skin of his butt and she lifted her hips in that age-old invitation to come on in.

  “I’ll do that later,” Quinn promised. He needed all of her, as much as he could get, so his tongue invaded her mouth and his cock pushed into her, finding her soft and hot and silky and perfect.

  Cal wrenched her mouth away and whimpered. He stopped, looking down at her in concern. “You okay?’

  A strand of red hair covered her cheek and her eyes blazed up at him. “Just don’t stop. Please!”

  Quinn wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t—it was all too much. He felt both honored and terrified that she needed him as much as he needed her. She was too much. So responsive, so sensitive.

  Quinn pumped his hips, Cal moaned and he never wanted to stop. “Quinn! Please...”

  Quinn pushed himself up on one hand and reached between them to touch her, his fingers immediately finding her special place. She bucked, moaned and her internal muscles clenched around him. She bowed her back and slammed her hips up, taking him deeper. He felt her vibrate, felt her release and, having no willpower left, let go, pulsing into her.

  Quinn felt her hands running up his butt and his back. He listened to her breathing. Instead of rolling right off as he usually he did, he took the moment to inhale her sex-and-flowers scent, enjoying the feel of her lips as she dropped tiny kisses on his jaw, her soft hands roaming his body.

  When he finally lifted his head to look at her, her eyes were languid and soft and oh-so-satisfied.

  “Well, that was fun. Want to do it again?” she asked with a husky laugh.

  Hell yes.

  Seven

  Quinn looked across the picnic area at Ferguson Point in Stanley Park and noticed that Cal was surrounded by kids. She had a toddler leaning against her shoulder, another in her lap and an older girl had a slim arm around her neck. Six or seven kids, all of different ages, were sitting on the grass in front of her, fascinated by whatever she was saying.

  This event—a picnic for children who’d survived a life-threatening illness—was another of the foundation’s annual events. Quinn didn’t mind joining her and supporting the event. He believed in what they were trying to achieve. And spending the day sitting in the sun and eating junk food in Stanley Park was good for anyone’s soul, sick or not.

  Kade and Brodie sat on a park bench with him, watching the activity. Some of the older kids were throwing a Frisbee. There were kids on the swings. Toddlers were chasing bubbles and squealing.

  “What is she doing?” Quinn asked Brodie, gently nudging her with his elbow, wincing when he connected with little Cody’s foot instead of Brodie’s side. Her and Kade’s brand-new son was asleep in her arms. “Sorry, sorry... Did I wake him?”

  “It would take a bomb to wake Cody,” Kade replied. He sat on the other side of Brodie, his arm around her shoulder. “And, from what I gathered when I walked past, Cal is telling them a story, something to do with the animals in the forest.”

  “She’s really good with kids,” Brodie said, twisting to put Cody into Kade’s spare arm and snuggling into her husband’s side. Cody’s eyes flicked open as he was resettled, looked up at his dad and fell back asleep, utterly content.

  Kade was a good dad, Quinn realized and his heart bumped. He looked across at Mac who was talking to Wren, his arm across Rosie’s small chest, holding her between his legs, her back to his stomach. He was oblivious to the fact that his daughter was drooling over his hand. Kade and Mac had made the transition from bachelors to husbands to fathers easily and happily, taking the added responsibility in stride.

  Quinn was proud of them for stepping up to the plate, for putting their women and their children first, for making them a priority in their lives. They’d embraced love and this new stage of their lives with enthusiasm and joy and Quinn was happy for them.

  He would never make that transition, would never have to rearrange his life to make room for a family and he was okay with that. Wasn’t he?

  Of course you are! And really, why do you want to borrow trouble thinking like that? Don’t you have enough problems dealing with your attraction to your temporary wife and best friend?

  Quinn pulled his gaze off Cal to look at the panoramic view of English Bay. Yet the amazing scenery was no competition for the woman sitting on the grass, her bright hair in a long braid, freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. God, he loved her freckles, loved that lush mouth, the fascinating dark blue of her eyes. The gorgeous dip of her back above her butt cheeks, her elegant toes, the perfection of her breasts, her pretty—

  “So, is there any chance of making this fake marriage real?”

  Quinn’s head snapped around and he looked across the empty space where Brodie had been sitting. He’d been so focused on watching Cal he hadn’t noticed Brodie leaving the bench.

  His frustration with himself, and his discomfort over the fact that Cal had him under her spell, made him scowl. “What?”

  “You and Cal.”

  “What about me and Cal?”

  “You look good together, you enjoy each other’s company and you’re more real with her than you’ve ever been with any of your previous women—”

  “Real? What does that mean?”

  Kade didn’t react to Quinn’s hot tone; he just kept his steady gaze on Quinn’s face. He tried not to squirm. “With her, you’re you. The real you.”

  “I’m exactly the same person whomever I’m with,” Quinn protested.

  “You are degrees of you,” Kade replied, tipping his head. “You can be charming, the life and soul of the party, a daredevil, all determination and hotheadedness. You are also a don’t-give-a-toss bad boy.”

  Quinn thought about arguing and then realized that he couldn’t think of anything to say that would counter Kade’s argument.

  “When you are relaxed, quieter, not trying so hard to show everyone that you’re such a bad ass—that’s who you are when you are with us, when you are with Cal. The real Quinn.”

  Right now he was the wanting-to-punch-Kade version of himself. The truth always hurts, he realized. He did use different elements of his personality to navigate different areas of his life, but that didn’t mean he liked to be called on it.

  “Doesn’t everybody pull on different sides of their personality to get through the day? To get them through life?”

  Kade nodded as his finger slid down Cody’s nose, his expression contemplative. “Sure. But it’s important to have a person you can relax with, who you can drop the pretense with. Cal is your person.”

  No, she wasn’t. Not like that. Well, maybe like that but not in a happy-ever-after way. She was his best friend and the person he was sleeping with. He was temporarily, legally bound to her and when they were done being married,
they’d still be best friends.

  They had to be. It was what they’d promised.

  “It isn’t like that,” Quinn protested.

  “It’s like that,” Kade insisted. “Why won’t you see it?”

  Everything was changing, Quinn thought, ignoring Kade’s question. A few short months ago his life made sense. He’d been wild and free, but he was now married and sleeping with his best friend. He’d spent more time thinking about kids and families in the past weeks than he had all his life.

  His world had shifted off its axis and he didn’t know how to move it back, or if he even wanted to. Being a husband, having a family wasn’t something he could wrap his head around, but, somewhere and somehow, he’d stopped dismissing the notion for the nonsense he’d always thought it to be.

  Irritated with himself, he watched as Cal stood up. His heart stumbled as she scooped up the smallest toddler and easily settled the dark-haired boy on her hip. The child dropped his head onto her shoulder and shoved his thumb into his mouth. Cal patted heads, squeezed shoulders and started to walk toward Quinn, her cheek against that small, dark head.

  God, she’d be a good mom. Even if he could imagine a life with her, he could never give her children. He’d want to give her children. Kids, for Cal, would be a deal-breaker. He knew Cal wanted a big family one day and he would never be able to give her what she truly deserved.

  Sometimes he thought that he should tell her, just blurt it out and get it done. Didn’t she deserve to know? He should have told her years ago, as his best friend. Then again, he hadn’t told Mac or Kade. He hadn’t told anyone...

  Sometimes, like now, he felt like he wanted to tell Cal. That could be because he was feeling connected to her, dammit—emotionally connected. Great sex had the ability to create those connections and usually, when that happened, he distanced himself from the source of the connection. That couldn’t happen with Cal thanks to their friendship and the wedding band on his finger.