Then I read the text and scowled.
I expect to be kept in the loop.
It looked like tonight was not the night he was going to get over his shit.
I made my way into Quinn’s room, tossed my phone on her nightstand, and pulled off my jeans. I hit the bed, rolled Quinn to me, and tugged her close. The moment I did she melted into me. All thoughts of Jackson, her dad, and gangbangers were gone. It was just me and Quinn and her soft body wrapped around mine.
* * *
Quinn trembled in my arms. I gave it a minute to see if she’d settle down and stay asleep but she gasped and jerked awake before I could make my decision.
“Shh, baby, I got you.”
Her nails dug into my chest and my gut burned.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You got nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart.”
My hand on her hip flexed and her leg hitched higher as she burrowed closer. The side of her face nuzzled my chest and now my gut was burning for a different reason.
Quinn felt damn good in my arms, the only woman who’d ever felt right, had ever made me feel and want things I didn’t know existed.
“Brice?”
“Right here, baby.”
“I need you.”
Fucking hell.
“What do you need?”
“You.”
“You have me, Quinn—all of me.”
“Please make it go away.”
“Baby—”
My protest died when she rolled on top of me and straddled my lap. Dawn had kissed the sky and filled the room with a soft glow. Just enough light for me to see Quinn’s hands shake as she reached for the hem of my tee she’d worn to bed. Then it was gone. Her fantastic tits came into view and my cock’s reaction was immediate—hard and throbbing.
Christ, all that thick black hair, tussled from sleep, most of it over her shoulder but a lock of it covering one breast, a tightly-pebbled nipple peeking through the strands. Good God, she was a wet dream perched on top of me.
Mine for the taking.
Mine to keep.
“Quinn, baby,” I groaned as she glided her panty-covered pussy against my erection.
My hands went to her thighs in an effort to stop her from moving, but the second my palms hit her warm, soft skin they were itching to do the opposite.
“Need you.” Her groan filled my ears as she lifted up and tugged down my boxers just enough for my cock to spring free. Then her hand wrapped around my shaft and stroked.
Fuck my life. I wanted to wait. I wanted her to be sure about us before I fucked her again. Hell, I needed her to be sure she wanted me and not just what we had in bed.
But I couldn’t deny her.
“Take what you need,” I said through gritted teeth.
And Quinn did not delay. A nanosecond later, she pulled her sexy, white lacy panties to the side and notched the head of my cock at her wet center, and on a slow glide her heat enveloped me.
“Condom,” I bit out as her excitement coated my bare cock.
“Don’t need one.”
“Christ.” My head tipped back and I fought for control. I’d never gone without a latex barrier—not once, not ever—and it must be said I was pleased beyond reason Quinn was my first.
It took a moment, four strokes to be exact and I’d counted, before I righted my head and took her in.
Green eyes stared down at me, watching me, searching, and I knew down to the deepest depths of my soul I was lost in her in a way that I’d never let her go. She was beyond compare, the best I’d ever had, the only woman who would ever own my heart.
“Lean forward and kiss me, Quinn,” I demanded even though I knifed up to take her mouth.
Our lips met, her tongue brushed mine, and it wasn’t like coming home, because she’d never left. Even as she tried to pull away, she couldn’t, the tether that bound us together was unforgiving, unbreakable.
Quinn Walker was the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted. Past, present, and future swirled together. So fucking perfect I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around how I’d gotten so lucky.
I slowed the kiss as desperation started to take over and nearly smiled at her growl of frustration. My hands on her hips limited the speed in which she could take me as she fought to move faster. Her pussy hugged my cock and without a condom I could feel everything, the tiniest spasm ricocheted through my balls and shot up my spine.
“Faster,” Quinn complained.
“Slow.”
“More.”
“Look at me, baby.”
She lifted her head, her eyes hazy and unfocused. So damn hot but I needed her with me, needed to know she understood what was happening.
“What do you see, Quinn?”
“Wh…what?”
One hand left her hip, moved up her back gathering her hair as I went, until I fisted it at the nape and held her in place.
“Tell me, baby, while you’re riding my dick, looking down at me, what do you see?”
“I see you,” she whispered.
“Right. When I look at you I see my future. I see the beautiful, strong woman I’ve fallen in love with and it takes my breath.” Quinn’s eyes lost the haze and then widened in shock. “And before this goes any further, and by that I mean, before I loosen my hold and let you go wild, I need you to know where I’m at. What it means to me to be inside of you. What you mean to me. I’m not looking to get off, I do not want a quick fuck, then you going back to a place where you think you can hide from me. This means something to me, you mean something to me. I’m laying my shit bare, Quinn, I want all of you. All the promises you can give me. I’m in deep, baby, and it would suck if you weren’t there with me. But if you’re not, I’ll work my ass off to get you there.”
“Brice—”
“Just needed you to know, baby, not looking for anything else.”
Her chin dipped and I lost her eyes. But when they came back to mine, hers were glossy. I’d seen enough of her tears to last a lifetime and she’d already shed too many.
It was time to move things along. Our mid-sex discussion did nothing to calm the throbbing in my cock and if I didn’t get her worked up, I’d go before her.
“I want your tits in my face, darlin’, lean forward.”
Her eyes flashed before she glided up and my lips captured her nipple. It would’ve been easier to use my hands to hold her breasts where I wanted them but that would mean I’d have to let go of her hair. There were a lot of places on Quinn’s body I enjoyed. Some I liked more than others, some were downright awe-inspiring, but her long, midnight hair turned me on, and when I had a fistful of it, something I dreamt about for longer than I cared to admit, it drove me crazy feeling her silky strands.
“Brice,” she moaned and arched her back and I sucked deeper. “The other one.”
I did as she demanded, licking around her neglected nipple before I sucked it deep.
Wetness flooded and her hips started grinding.
“Ride me, Quinn.”
She needed no further encouragement and I grunted when she used my chest for leverage and slammed down hard before she pulled up and set a fast and hard pace.
“Never using a condom again,” I told her and drove my hips up to meet her thrusts. “You’re always hot, tight, and wet. But, baby, this way you’re on fire. You feel so goddamn good I can’t take it.”
My hand left her hip and found her clit. There was no slow, gentle build-up. My thumb honed in and I knew I hit the right spot when Quinn bucked and threw her head back.
From there it was a race to completion. Only I was going to lose, there was no stopping the rush of my orgasm.
“Look at me,” I demanded.
Her gaze came to mine just as the first painful spurt of come shot from my cock coating her pussy.
“Goddamn,” I grunted and ground my teeth as rope after rope spilled into her.
Her pussy clamped down, prolonging my orgasm, and
I swear to God my vision blurred and my ears roared as she rode out her pleasure.
Quinn finally collapsed on top of me, my arms went around her, connected in every way.
And then she gave it to me with her face in my neck, hair draped across my chest and arms. A gift—the best gift I’d received.
“I love you, Brice.”
“Say it again,” I demanded.
“I love you.”
Fuck.
“Again.”
“I love you.”
My eyes closed and warmth hit my chest. Best goddamned gift—ever.
“I love you, too, Quinn.”
Her body twitched right before I felt the first tear leak onto my skin. I’d take these tears and soak them in. Absorb them and never forget them—not for the rest of my life.
19
Brice’s hand tightened around mine as we walked across the police station parking lot. I didn’t want to be here, and by the way Brice held my hand, he didn’t want me to be here, either.
Then there was my dad. He stood outside the sliding glass doors in front of the station with his arms crossed against his chest, his legs shoulder-width apart, and a deep scowl completed the look. Yeah, he didn’t want me to be here anymore than Brice and I wanted to be.
This morning when Brice woke me up with a kiss and the smell of brewing coffee wafting into the bedroom, this was not how I thought my day would go. I thought after last night he’d keep us in bed all day. I thought since we’d both admitted how we felt, the hard part was over and we would stay safely behind closed doors and live in our own bubble. That’s how naïve I was.
And that absolutely did not happen.
The closer we got to the entrance, the more fear ticked at my spine.
“You’re not alone, Quinn. Your dad and I will be with you every step.”
If Brice thought that made it easier, he was mistaken. I could have him and an entire army at my back and I’d still be afraid.
“I know.”
Brice sighed and stopped us in front of my dad.
“Mornin’, darlin’.” Dad gentled his face, and much like he’d done my whole life, he examined me closely.
I knew he saw it, how I felt about being at the police station, facing pointing out a murderer in a lineup.
“Mornin’,” I grumbled.
Brice moved closer and dropped my hand, but only so he could haul me to his side and put his arm around me. That still didn’t make me feel any better.
“Mom wants you and Brice over for coffee after we’re done here,” my dad told us.
“Fine.”
My dad continued to stare, all the gentleness gone. I hated my dad looked so worried, I fucking hated that he was having to go through all of this because of me. I was so, so, stupid.
“Let’s get this done so we can leave,” Brice declared, then kissed the top of my head.
Any other day, I would love that. His arms around me, his lips touching my hair, but not today.
Today I felt like I was coming out of my skin.
My dad jerked his chin and started for the door, Brice and I wordlessly followed behind him. The station was busy, officers buzzed around, phones rang, people talked, and I ignored it all.
The first time here, I’d been so traumatized I hadn’t paid a lick of attention. And this time was no different. I couldn’t say what color the walls were, what the room looked like, not a single desk or chair registered. I was looking down at my shoes concentrating so hard on putting one foot in front of the other. All in an effort to stop myself from screaming in frustration.
I did not want to see the man who’d plagued my dreams, turning them into nightmares. It was selfish. It was the cowardly thing to do but I wanted to tell the detective I couldn’t remember anything. That I’d been mistaken and I hadn’t seen anything.
I wanted to crawl under a rock and pretend my life away.
“Mr. Walker. Miss Walker. Thank you for coming down.”
I heard Detective Henderson greet my father but I didn’t look up. It was rude but I also didn’t care. I was still trying to figure out a way to weasel out of being there.
“Brice Lancaster.” Brice introduced himself but made no move to unwrap his arm from me to shake the other man’s hand. That should’ve been comforting, I should’ve felt something, but I didn’t.
“Everything’s ready to go. Right this way,” the detective said and we were moving again.
A few moments later we stopped and Detective Henderson explained, “This should only take a moment. Firstly, no one can see you. The men will walk in, line up, they’ll be instructed to face forward, then they’ll turn to give you their profile, then they’ll face forward again. There is no rush. You may ask any or all of the men to step closer for a better look. It doesn’t matter how close they get to the glass, they cannot see you. The suspect will not be able to communicate with you. The room is soundproof, so you may speak freely. However, the accused will have an attorney present in the room with us. The attorney will be observing and listening.”
“What?” I finally spoke.
“According to state and federal law, the suspect has the right to have an attorney present during the lineup,” Detective Henderson clarified. “However, he is not permitted to speak to you and if he tries, I’ll be right next to you and I’ll put a stop to it.”
“You’ll be next to me? What about Brice and my dad?”
“Sorry, Quinn.” The detective gentled his tone. “No one is allowed in with you.”
“But—”
“Can you give us a moment,” Brice cut in.
Obviously this wasn’t a question—Brice didn’t wait for Detective Henderson to answer before he moved us a few feet away and positioned me so my back was against the wall and he crowded my front.
“Look at me, Quinn.”
I didn’t. I couldn’t. This was getting worse by the second. I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to acknowledge I was so damn weak, I needed my daddy and boyfriend in the room with me or I was going to collapse.
Brice didn’t ask again, both of his hands went to my face, and he softly brought my gaze to his.
“What’s scaring you the most?”
“Seeing him again,” I whispered.
“He cannot hurt you. He can’t even see you. And after today he’ll be locked in a fuckin’ cage where he belongs.”
“I’m not strong—”
“Bullshit,” he snapped. “You are. You are so damn strong and brave. You can do this, Quinn. I know you can. Your dad and I will be right outside the door waiting for you.”
“I want to leave. I want to lie and say I was wrong, that I didn’t see anything,” I admitted and my stomach roiled.
God, I was such a coward.
“That doesn’t make you weak. That makes you human. Everything about this—from start to finish—is jacked. Every goddamned thing, from you not being able to go to your favorite market because the streets are filled with drugs and gangbangers, to you witnessing a murder. To you having to relive that moment. To you having to face a lineup. It’s fucked-up, all of it. And if there was a way I could take it all, I would. It kills me knowing what this fucktard did haunts you. I’d like nothing more than to have five minutes alone with him. But we don’t have those options. The only one we do have, the only one that will take a criminal off the streets, is you identifying him and putting him away. And, sweetheart, I know you can do it. I know you’re strong enough. I know it, your dad knows it, your family knows it, and deep down you know it, too. You know, Quinn. You’re fucking brave. Go into that room, stand strong, point out the motherfucker, and walk out with your head high knowing you did good. Don’t let this asswipe scare you, he’s nothing. He’s a pissant who’s gonna rot in jail, and he’ll be there because you are goddamned strong and you put him there.”
Brice’s eyes bore into mine. No softness. He looked intimidating—almost frightening. I tried to soak up his words, tried to believe I was everything h
e said I was but I couldn’t. There was a mental block, a picket line I couldn’t cross.
“Dammit, Quinn.” Brice glowered. “Dig deep and find it. It’s in there, I know it is.”
I caught my dad’s approach out of the corner of my eye but he stopped before he reached Brice and me.
“I can do it,” I lied.
“No, baby. Dig deep. Find it, Quinn. You do not walk into that room with your shoulders hunched forward like you’re beaten down. You go in there fucking strong. Strong, baby. You got this—you’re a Walker. Walkers do not ever cower from anything.”
“Okay.”
“Say it.”
“I can do it.”
“No, tell me you’re strong.”
“I’m strong.”
Brice leaned forward, closing the small gap between us, and whispered, “Goddamned right you are. Now go in there, make your ID, and let’s get the hell out of here. We got better shit to do than hang out in a police station.”
I nodded but he didn’t move back.
“Proud of you, Quinn.”
And finally for the first time that morning since Brice told me where we were going, I wasn’t frozen inside.
I had to do this.
I could do this.
Brice wouldn’t let me crumble.
“I’m ready.”
Brice’s mouth curved up and he smiled. It wasn’t one of his megawatt smiles that hit his eyes when I said something funny, or did something he liked a whole lot, but it was still a smile.
“Damn, but I love you.”
“I love you,” I whispered, wondering if I’d ever get used to hearing those words from him.
I hoped I didn’t. I prayed that each time he said them, they would sizzle through me, heat me from the inside out, and make me feel exactly what I was feeling right then—special.
* * *
Jasper
Jasper Walker stood close and unapologetically listened to his daughter’s man lay it out. He did this with his fists clenched and gut in a constant state of turmoil. He wasn’t ready—didn’t think he’d ever be ready—to hand off the care of his second-born daughter.
Keeping Quinn: The Next Generation Page 14
