“You finally admit it.”
He ignored the dig. “Something freaked you out. I’ve never seen you that way, the fear in your eyes.” He ducked his head to meet her gaze when she suddenly found the ground easier to look at.
The tenderness in his gaze pulled at her. “Talk to me, Quinn. Please.”
She briefly closed her eyes at the lull in his voice. The same one he’d used in the elevator that morning. The one that made her want to trust him to help chase back the darkness she felt hovering every time she went to sleep, every time she now heard her mother’s voice whisper across her memory.
Quinn released a shaky breath and lifted a hand to straighten the undone button on Braxton’s shirt. Anything so she wouldn’t have to answer him just yet.
He caught her hand, his thumb sweeping back and forth across her skin. “Tell me.”
She didn’t take her eyes off him as he moved in, wanting to lean into him, slip her arms around his neck as she’d done this morning. Not because she really wanted to tell him any more than she had, but she ached for that closeness with someone. A moment where there was someone else to cling to when the ground felt ready to fall out from beneath her.
“I’ve been having these nightmares.” She exhaled sharply, both in relief and expectation. How much of an explanation was he looking for? How much was she willing to share when she didn’t know if he’d go back to playing the distant Destroyer again tomorrow?
“About what?”
Images and sounds flashed through her mind, distorted and garbled. She swallowed past the nest of panic thickening in her throat. She couldn’t do this now. Couldn’t talk about it.
Quinn closed her eyes, fighting not to be pulled under by the foggy pictures playing in both fast-forward and reverse in her head.
“It’s okay,” Braxton murmured against her temple.
She didn’t remember looping her arms around his neck, but they were there now, holding onto him the way she had in the elevator. “It’s not okay. We’re not okay. I…I don’t even know what we are anymore.”
“Complicated?” he offered, his hands spanning her lower back and drifting down to her hips. His thumb massaged her skin, and she bit her lip at the burst of warmth that scrolled up her spine.
“I don’t want to talk, Brax.”
His hands edged beneath the hem of her T-shirt. “I know.”
The brush of his fingers along her abdomen unleashed a torrent of bone-deep need. “Then why are you still here?”
“Because I’m an idiot.” The harsh confession surprised her.
Quinn tipped her face back. “Wow, you really know the right things to say to a girl.” Her attempt to keep things light died the second she glimpsed the raw determination in Braxton’s eyes.
The back of his hand brushed the underside of her breast.
“Why are you—”
His thumb circled her nipple, and she inhaled sharply.
“An idiot?” he repeated. The sound of his rapid-fire pulse echoed like cannon rounds in her head. “Because I keep telling myself this is a bad idea.”
“It is?” It sounded like a damn fine idea to her. The warming ache deep between her thighs thumped in delicious anticipation of just how fine it could be.
“I don’t know anymore. I thought…” He boldly cupped her breast, his palm hot against her skin. “Damn it, I can’t think straight this close.”
Because he sounded ready to back away, Quinn rocked up and slanted her mouth across his. His arms snapped around her, and he groaned against her mouth, his tongue sliding in to meet hers.
A hundred times she’d kissed him in her dreams—some far more real than others—but never once has she anticipated the possessive edge to the kiss. One that vowed she’d never forget it. And she never wanted to. Not when his mouth, the potent stroke of his tongue, teased along her senses until everything about him overwhelmed her.
Braxton jerked her shirt up, his lips snaring her nipple. The wet suction of his mouth competed with the soft tugging of his fingers at her other breast. She moaned at the sharp pull of release that shimmered deep in her sex. She clamped her legs together only to have Brax wedge his thigh between them, nestling his muscled flesh hard against her.
Quinn cried out, unable to stop from rocking against him where she needed to feel the tantalizing friction the most.
Braxton grunted in approval, dragging the flat of his tongue across her other nipple before his hands worked to pull her pants down. He greedily kneaded her ass before trailing back over to her hip.
“Tell me not to stop,” he growled, feasting at her throat, his unshaven jaw a scraping contrast to the wet heat of his mouth.
“If you stop, you’re a dead man.”
He parted her slick folds, not commenting on how damp she already was. Without warning, he plunged a finger into her sex. Then two.
Quinn trapped his face in her hands, hauling him back to her mouth. She didn’t know how it was possible to want someone as desperately as she craved Braxton. Craved the hard arousal digging into her hip to fill her completely.
He stripped off her pants and pulled her thigh up to hug his, opening her further. With more room, he lightly swirled the pad of his thumb across her clit.
She whimpered against his mouth.
The phone rang.
“Let the machine get it.”
She smiled against his lips. Until today she hadn’t realized how long it had been since Braxton had skipped actual speaking and projected his thoughts right into her mind. It felt familiar, reassuring—and right now—just a little bit arousing.
The phone continued to ring. Her brief recorded intro came over the speaker as the answering machine speaker clicked on.
“Quinn pick up. I’m in trouble. Someone’s in the house. I think I’m being followed. The police haven’t believed me. I should have called you sooner, I know.”
Cass? Quinn bolted for the phone.
Splintering wood crackled over the line. “Shit. Quinn!”
The sound of the phone clattering across a floor pushed Quinn’s heart into her throat as she hit the talk button on the cordless.
“Cass?”
More shuffling from the other end. A muffled whimper. Then the line went dead.
* * *
“Have you heard from her?”Braxton pushed back from his desk, snapped off his computer monitor with a stab of his finger. “Not yet.”
Jordan perched on the edge of his desk, her head bowed thoughtfully. “Did she say anything?”
This was the third time Jordan had asked him to tell her exactly what had happened. He knew it was out of concern for Quinn that she continued to bring it up, so he only shook his head. If he wasn’t also worried about the fact that Quinn hadn’t checked in, he’d be pissed that she took off on him. During the brief moment Quinn’s guard had dropped and fear for her sister stormed through him, he understood the dynamic.
She rarely mentioned Cass anymore, but he knew Quinn cherished her sister. A year ago he probably knew as much of what was happening in Cass’s life as he did Quinn’s. But things had changed there, as they had in about every aspect of his and Quinn’s relationship. And there was no one to blame for that but himself. The way she had eagerly welcomed his touch last night made him question why he’d convinced himself Quinn would have regretted being intimate with him.
After the call from Cass, Quinn had been ready to tear out the door and fly across the country to some small town to find out what had happened to her sister. He’d foolishly thought he got through to her, having convinced her to call the local police first and have them send someone over, and that they could go from there.
While she calmly agreed and asked him to call directory assistance for the local authority’s office, she’d changed and slipped out the door in less time than it would have taken him to have a piss. He would have gone with her, assuming Rae cleared it for him. All she had to do was hang in there a few minutes and let him help her. Instead she bol
ted, wanting to handle it herself.
Why did the woman have to be so goddamn impulsive all the time?
“I just heard about Quinn taking off. I hope her sister is okay.”
Jordan frowned. “How did you hear about that already?”
Drew rolled his eyes as he stepped up next to Braxton’s desk. “I could hear you guys talking from the elevator.” He dropped his bag on the floor.
With a push from the top of the desk that sent a folder flying—which Drew caught and replaced in a blink—Jordan’s feet hit the floor. “I thought you were headed out an hour ago?”
“I was. Rae called and said there might be some change in assignments, and to stop in here first.”
Most likely because Braxton and Quinn’s assignment was on hold. Another European field office had sent Destroyers to track down the mimic demon causing havoc. While all the hot zones had round-the-clock Shadow Destroyers stationed in those areas, it was freelance field offices like theirs that took care of the demons that popped up sporadically.
Gage came down the hall, skimming printouts. “There was a distortion last evening two counties over. You guys come across any of our favorite hostiles lately?”
Braxton nodded. “Took out a telepath demon last night.”
“Where?”
“Outside Jake’s.”
“Glad it was you,” Jordan said. “Another few blocks to the east and Gage would have made me leave the movie theatre once we felt it.” Not only did Gage and Jordan both heal quickly, but their common war demon essence gave them the ability to hone in on all other types of demons.
“Speaking of demons.” Drew dug through his bag and tossed a tracking device on Braxton’s desk.
“Easy with the equipment,” Braxton growled. He picked up the hand-held device and gave it a once over. “Problems?”
“Malfunctioning again.”
Gage snorted. “Surprise, surprise.”
Braxton loosened the compartment on the back, then sat in front of his computer and popped the device into the docking station. “Maybe if you all treated the device with a little more care.”
The other three agents expelled a collective sigh. Braxton saved himself the trouble of reminding them all again that this device had saved their asses more than once. Even with Gage and Jordan having their special built-in radar and Drew and Quinn able to hear a demon a long way off, many agents still relied on the electronic trackers to zero in on any Shadow Demon while on assignment. With the exception of a few minor glitches, the device gave an earlier and more precise warning than any agent’s physiology was capable of detecting.
The tracking device was also how he had stumbled across Quinn last night. He’d been surprised the device picked up a demon so close to home to begin with, but not that shocked to find Quinn engaging it. She had a knack for finding trouble.
His fingers paused over the keys. Why hadn’t she called in? Was she hurt? Had she had another panic attack?
“I’m going to skim the database, see what parts of the world need the most saving since Rae plans to shuffle things some.” Drew nodded to Gage. “Did you do a coffee run this morning?”
Gage nodded absently, his face still glued to the printout he carried.
“Pick up some tea?”
“Did you ask me to pick up some tea?” Gage asked without looking up.
“No.”
“Have you ever asked me to get you tea?”
Drew mulled it over. “No.”
“Then why would I?”
“Hey, if you guys aren’t into a little peppermint or chamomile, that’s your deal. Don’t give me a hard time because I happen to enjoy the odd cup.”
Jordan didn’t bother to smother her laugh. “You haven’t gotten laid in a while have you?”
Drew glared at her and strode away.
Braxton couldn’t help himself. “Not in nearly three months.”
Drew flipped them both off and continued without a break in stride.
Gage started down the hall in the same direction, but paused. “Where was Quinn headed to?”
“Some small town in northern New Hampshire.”
“New Hampshire?”
“Yeah, I think that’s what she said.” A fresh wave of apprehension lodged in Braxton’s throat.
“A few towns in that part of the state have been seeing increasing temporal distortions.”
Jordan sighed. “Just another friendly neighborhood demon convention. Damn I hate sacrifices.”
“Doesn’t mean they’re trying to bring a Scion across,” Gage said absently. But when too much activity went unchecked, that was often exactly what happened. Unlike lesser Shadow Demons, Scions couldn’t open a gateway to this realm from their side, and only through a number of sacrifices and plenty of bloodshed were they able to cross over.
“I should make sure Rae’s seen this.” Gage vanished down the hall, headed for their boss’s office.
Braxton stared blankly at the onscreen diagnosis of Drew’s tracking device, aware of Jordan still watching him closely.
“Did you two talk last night before she got the call from her sister?”
“That woman is stubborn.” The declaration came out much sharper than he intended. He’d hated the look in Quinn’s eyes in the parking lot after the demon had been vanquished, the sheer haunted vulnerability he had felt earlier that same morning. As expected, her true colors came through soon enough and she’d been quick to avoid the subject. But the ache inside her, the whispers, the voices that troubled her, left his insides cold.
Just when he was finally close to getting her to open up, he’d had to fuck it all up by trying to get into her pants. If the phone hadn’t rung… Unlike the night two months ago, he didn’t regret touching her, knowing there wouldn’t be a doubt in his mind she would remember the feel of his hands on her.
Still, he should have pushed harder to get her to talk about the nightmares. It wasn’t the first time he’d let his own wants rise to the forefront. Only this time Cass’s call had saved him from screwing up again. He and Quinn had some issues to work out—he had some issues to work out—and none of them were going to get fixed by feeling her up.
He pushed away from his desk and stared at his phone, willing it to ring. Not that she’d call him. There were plenty of other people that warranted a call before him given the current state of their professional relationship. He couldn’t even say they had a personal one any longer. The few minutes in her apartment last night made him regret just how much he’d pulled back from her.
“Did she tell you what’s been going on with her?”
“We were just starting to get into it when her sister called.” Seeing as he and Quinn hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about what happened between them, he certainly wasn’t about to mention it to Jordan.
Jordan nodded thoughtfully.
“Guys.” Gage poked his head around the corner. “Our resident eavesdropper says Rae is talking to Quinn.”
Braxton was already headed down the hall when Rae stepped out of her office.
“She okay?”
“Quinn’s fine. Her plane just landed and she’s heard from the police who have already been by her sister’s house but haven’t found anything out of place.”
“What about Cass?”
“They couldn’t find her either.”
Gage stepped up beside them. “You should take a look at these.”
Rae gave the pages a skim, her brow furrowing. “I’m sending Drew down there to help Quinn.”
“I’ll go,” Braxton said.
Rae didn’t spare him a glance. “Last time I checked you weren’t big on taking assignments with her.”
“This isn’t a real assignment.”
She tipped her chin towards the folder in Gage’s hand. “It is now.”
“I want to be the one to go.”
“Quinn specifically asked for it not to be you.”
That stung a little, but Braxton didn’t let it show. “I s
till believe that you’re in charge here, not Quinn.”
She turned away. “I try to respect my agents’ requests.”
“Believe me, sending Drew down there isn’t what she needs.”
A resounding, “Hey, I can hear you,” echoed up the hall from the break room.
Braxton rolled his eyes. “Send me.”
Rae gave him her militant stance, but it didn’t fool him. Her glacier-colored eyes were considering the offer.
“Please. Send Drew to France.”
“Tell me it’s the Riviera.” Drew poked his head out the door.
No more than a harsh glance over Rae’s shoulder sent Drew ducking back into the break room.
“Is there anything going on with you and Quinn I should know about?” The small flicker in Rae’s expression left his stomach tight, and the hard press of her mouth warned Braxton not to let her catch him in a lie.
He shook his head anyway. At the rate he was going, he might be able to get a lie in to every team member by the end of the week.
“Fine. I want progress reports three times a day. More if the information warrants it.
“No problem.”
She nodded. “Get out of here then.”
* * *
Quinn let herself into the dark house with the spare key she’d found earlier in the fake rock at the edge of her sister’s flower garden. She’d given it to Cass as a gift since her sister had the habit of continually misplacing her keys.Another wave of fear for her sister rushed over her as she closed the kitchen door behind her. She’d already been by the police station, and the second the officer at the main desk spotted her, he had sighed. She’d figured it was the blue streaks in her hair, then realized it was because the cop actually confused her with her twin. His initial reaction had proved to Quinn that Cass had been by the police station enough times to have made an impression. She just didn’t understand why Cass hadn’t called her before if something was wrong.
Her trip to the station turned out to be useless. They hadn’t had any new information and said they had followed up after Quinn’s initial call, but found nothing out of the ordinary at her sister’s. She hadn’t expected otherwise. Not when the scent of Shadow Demon was bitter to her nostrils. It was the first scent she caught when she came straight here after her plane landed.
Stripped Away Page 7
