Maximum Risk

by Lowery, Jennifer

  “How can you say that? Of course she’d care. It’s me.”

  His brow quirked. “Yes, it is, and I don’t want anyone else in my bed.”

  Butterflies set flight low in her belly. Did Quinn Wolff really just say he wanted her in his bed? After everything, he wasn’t turning her away?

  Before she could guess his intention, he dipped his head and took her mouth in a hungry kiss that was over much too soon. She was breathing hard by time he lifted his head, the cup of tea in her hand dangerously close to spilling in his lap.

  “You’re going to get us in trouble,” she said, pulling away and setting the cup safely on the coffee table. “Now go help your mother before she suspects something.”

  Quinn’s gaze lingered on her lips momentarily before he rose and strode into the kitchen. Avery fell back against the sofa, resisting the urge to fan herself.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Quinn opened his eyes to morning sun shining through the window and Avery sprawled across his chest. One of her gorgeous legs twined with his, her face tucked into his neck. As much as he wanted to roll her over and wake her up slowly, he’d broken Rule Number One last night. His rule. Again.

  After breakfast with his mom—despite his insistence to Avery, he was certain she knew he’d slept with Avery—he’d spent the day avoiding her. Or, trying to. A meeting with his brothers to discuss strategy hadn’t kept his mind off her. A swim at dark hadn’t rid his body of the sexual energy humming through his system. He’d even gone through his workout routine before his swim. Hell, he’d even tried a cold shower.

  Until the vixen joined him.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. What the hell had he been thinking, making love to her? Best damn sex he ever had, but it didn’t erase the fact he’d fucked up. Again. Would he never get enough of this woman?

  A soft sigh escaped Avery’s lips. He stifled a groan. Even asleep she turned him on. She rubbed her foot down his leg.

  Quinn clenched his jaw. Repeating his mistake again wasn’t an option.

  Her hand slid down his chest.

  He drew in a sharp breath and looked down to find Avery staring back at him with a wicked smile.

  “Good morning,” she murmured, wrapping her hand around him.

  “It’s about to be,” Quinn growled and rolled her beneath him. He kissed her, distracted from the warning in the back of his mind by the taste of her.

  A noise brought his head up.

  Avery made a disgruntled sound, pulling his head down. She kissed him.

  The sound came again and he pulled away with a curse.

  “Someone’s downstairs.” He rolled out of bed and slipped into a pair of jeans and t-shirt. “Stay here.” On his way out the door he grabbed his 9mm off the dresser.

  “What? I didn’t hear anything.”

  “Just stay put.”

  Taking the stairs down, he skipped the ones that creaked. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled as soon as he hit the landing. Thumbing the safety, he edged his way into the hall leading to Avery’s bedroom.

  A noise from inside had him swinging into the room, gun aimed at the dark-skinned man standing over Avery’s bed with a knife gripped in his raised hand.

  “Don’t move,” Quinn said.

  The man turned his head to look at him and Quinn recognized him from the video surveillance footage. Fury shot through him and his finger tightened on the trigger. This was the man who had managed to get close to Avery at his parents’ house. Now he’d done it again. How the hell did he get past Chris’s security system?

  Only this time he’d done more than get on the property. He’d gotten inside the house. In Avery’s bedroom.

  Damn it.

  Because he’d been too busy making love to Avery to set the security alarm.

  “Drop the knife,” he ordered, not sure if the guy understood English or not. When he didn’t obey, Quinn took a step closer and spoke in Azebek. “I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your brain. Now drop the fucking knife.”

  Challenge flashed in his black eyes. He knew Quinn needed him alive for information.

  Quinn aimed the barrel of his gun at the guy’s forehead. They both knew he would die before he talked.

  “Quinn?”

  Avery’s voice came down the hallway, distracted him for a split second. “Avery, go back upstairs,” he barked. Fire sliced across his midsection before the gun wrenched from his hand and was kicked across the room. It slid beneath the dresser.

  Reacting, he grabbed the bastard by the throat with his free hand and slammed him back against the wall. A picture shattered to the floor from impact. The knife clattered to the floor along with it. Replacing his hand with his forearm, he leaned in close to growl in Azebek, “You made a big mistake coming here. Where’s your boss?”

  The man pressed his lips together.

  Quinn applied a little more pressure, cutting off more air. “This isn’t going to go well for you if you remain silent.”

  A slight widening of his eyes.

  Quinn reached up and tore the copper earring out of his ear. The man howled, then clamped his mouth shut.

  “Quinn? What’s going on?” Avery asked hesitantly from behind him.

  “Get the hell out of here, Avery.”

  “But—”

  “Now. And close the door behind you.”

  When he used that tone no one defied him. The door closed seconds later, but not without a defiant click. He would handle her later.

  Determination filled the man’s eyes.

  “You aren’t getting to her,” Quinn told him. “It’ll be over my dead body. Then you’ll have to go through my four brothers.”

  The bastard spit in his face.

  Disgusted, Quinn wiped it on his shoulder and drove a fist into his ribs. The guy would have doubled over if Quinn’s forearm hadn’t pinned him to the wall.

  “Were you one of the bastards in the Diakameli’s bordello?” Quinn demanded, his voice deceptively calm.

  The man’s nostrils flared, but his lips thinned.

  “You son of a bitch.” He pressed his arm tighter. “Did you hurt her?”

  No answer, but the man’s muscles went tense and his chest heaved from lack of oxygen.

  “Did you fucking hurt her?” Quinn shouted and jammed his fist into the man’s ribs. He gasped for air, eyes going wide.

  Images of Avery, bruised and battered, filled his head and he leaned on the guy even more. “This is how Avery felt when you waterboarded her,” he thundered.

  “Ah, Christ.” Kell was there to muscle him off the guy and shove him aside. “Get the hell out of here, Quinn,” he ordered. “I got this.”

  Quinn glared at his brother. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Avery called me. Now go clean yourself up.” Kell motioned toward his midsection.

  Rage and adrenaline still pumping hard, he looked down to see a bloody tear in his shirt. His hand shook when he pressed it to the wound and he gave himself a mental reset. This wasn’t him. He didn’t get emotional. Or lose control.

  Hell, no one ever had to call his brothers because of him. He was the one they called.

  “Shit,” he muttered and left the room.

  ****

  Avery jumped to her feet when Quinn came out of her bedroom, but stopped short when she got a look at him. This was not the Quinn she knew.

  Rage tightened the lines of his face and his eyes were cold and distant when they met hers. He was in a different place. Somewhere that made him shout. Something he never did. Quinn never raised his voice. Never lost control.

  Whatever pushed him over the edge had to do with her. She’d heard her name on his lips in his fury.

  Her eyes dropped to where his hand covered his waist, blood seeping through his fingers. “You’re hurt.” She took a step toward him.

  He raised a hand to stop her. “I got it.”

  Trying not to lose her temper, she followed him up the stairs and into his ba
throom. She stood in the doorway and watched him fist a handful of shirt behind his head and pull it off. A cut that looked suspiciously like a knife wound gashed across his abs. It didn’t look deep enough for stitches, but bled profusely.

  Helpless, she observed while he used a washcloth to stop the bleeding. All the while saying nothing to her.

  Finally, she couldn’t take the silence anymore.

  “That man was one of them, wasn’t he?”

  A muscle jumped along Quinn’s jaw and for a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer her. “Yes.”

  Her stomach churned. “From the house?”

  He didn’t look at her. “Yes.”

  Somehow, she’d known. “Did he tell you anything?”

  He crouched down and retrieved a First Aid kit from under the sink. “No.”

  Her gaze traveled over his broad shoulders, seeing faded red marks where she’d raked her nails across his skin just a few short hours ago. How things had changed so quickly. Now he treated her like he had on the helicopter.

  Which meant he blamed himself for something.

  “What will you do with him?”

  He tossed the washcloth in the sink and reached for a bandage. “Let us worry about that.”

  “So what happens now?” She didn’t mean with the intruder and he knew it. What happened between them. He couldn’t pretend things were the same. They weren’t. And if he thought he could just shut her out after last night, he had another thing coming.

  “What happens now is I’m going to find every one of those bastards and put an end to this.”

  His tone was low, rough with anger. It wasn’t like him to act reckless. She moved into the room and put a hand on his arm, felt the muscles bunch beneath her touch.

  “You can’t go after them yourself.”

  “The hell I can’t.” A tremor quaked through him. He met her gaze. Fire burned there, seeking an outlet.

  “Quinn,” she whispered.

  He reached up and cupped the nape of her neck, pushing her back against the wall. Her breath caught seconds before he ground his lips down on hers. His body pressed into hers, hard and unyielding.

  Avery gripped his shoulders, her body burning. Quinn’s mouth devoured hers. Taking, demanding, possessing.

  His hands cupped her breasts, thumbed her nipples through her shirt. When he ripped her shirt off she gasped for air. Then he dropped to his knees and sucked a nipple into his mouth, rolled it between his teeth. She threw her head back, arched into him, tunneled her hands through his hair and urged him closer.

  He trailed his hot mouth down her navel and to the waistband of her cargo pants. Roughly, he tore them off her. His hands wrapped around her thighs, lifted them onto his shoulders and then he lowered his head and feasted on her. There was no tenderness. No petting. Quinn controlled her. And it turned her on more than she dared admit.

  “Now, Avery,” he growled against her wet flesh and dragged her over the edge. She had no choice but to ride it out until finally he brought her down.

  But he wasn’t finished.

  He put her feet on the ground, shucked off his pants, grabbed a condom out of the First Aid kit and rolled it on, then returned to wrap her legs around his waist.

  Her heart started to race and her body juiced in anticipation as he plunged inside her. Dear God, there was nothing in the world like being filled by Quinn Wolff. She leaned her head back against the wall and let out a sigh of pure bliss, contracting her walls and hearing his groan of pleasure.

  He pulled out then surged inside her, the tension building. With a growl he swung her off the wall and carried her to the bed. He thrust inside her once they hit the mattress and she gasped at the full contact. Much better.

  Quinn bent his head and marked her flesh just above her breast, his pace increasing. She couldn’t hold out much longer. This primal side to him was incredibly sexy. The headboard bounced off the wall. Her fingers dug into his flesh, taking him all in.

  “Avery,” he grunted as he climaxed, carrying her over the edge with him.

  She pressed her cheek to his chest, seeing stars, knowing she was never going to recover from this.

  She had fallen in love with Quinn Wolff.

  ****

  “I have to go.”

  Quinn rolled out of bed, grabbed his pants and walked into the bathroom, cursing himself the entire way. Add another fuck-up to his list. Avery didn’t deserve what he’d just given her. He couldn’t get the images of her out of his mind and he’d wanted to kill the bastard downstairs for what he’d done to her.

  Then she’d touched him and all he’d wanted was to be inside her.

  He’d treated her like an animal.

  Fuck.

  He disposed of the condom, stepped into his pants and raked a hand through his hair. No time for apologies now. If she ever forgave him. Hell, he didn’t deserve her forgiveness after his brutal treatment.

  Striding into the bedroom for a shirt, he glanced at the bed to see Avery still stretched out beneath the sheets, hair spread over his pillow like copper fire. She sat up and the sheet fell to her waist, exposing her beautiful breasts. And there, above the right one, was a mark. Not from being held captive, but made by him.

  His gut clenched. Angry, he grabbed a t-shirt and said on his way out, “One of my brothers will stay with you while I’m gone.”

  Downstairs he called Nate to come sit with Avery, and prowled the house for the five minutes it took his brother to get there. He met Nate at his Jeep.

  “You look like shit,” Nate said, climbing out.

  “Kell call you?”

  Nate frowned. “Yeah, about thirty minutes ago. He’s out back with our guest.”

  “Why the hell weren’t you with him?”

  Nate narrowed his eyes. “What’s up with you, bro? I was at Dani’s covering for Evan while he was here. He’s our best interrogator, remember?”

  Quinn scrubbed a hand over his jaw. Damn, he needed a shave. Of course Evan was here. He had knowledge of pressure points on the body and marital arts training that proved very useful in interrogations. Maximum pain with minimum strikes.

  “Chris is with him and Kell is doing what he does best. No one else is getting past our security. Savat is over at Mom and Dad’s. Avery is watching us from the window,” Nate added. “I should get inside.”

  Quinn didn’t turn around to look. “Keep her there.”

  “She’s not going anywhere.”

  While Nate went to watch over Avery, Quinn made his way through the woods to the pole building and keyed in the code to get through the door. He bypassed the war room where Kell should have been and entered the door hidden in the back corner. His brother was running the perimeter, watching all their sixes. That was what Kell did. Stayed out of sight to protect them.

  Chris leaned against the wall, biker boot propped next to his knee, arms crossed over his chest. He glanced over when Quinn walked in, expression masked.

  In the center of the room, secured to a chair, sat the man who had stood over Avery’s bed with a knife. The bastard who might have taken part in torturing her in that house. The one who could have fired the bullet that killed Ryan.

  Evan walked over. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because I’m working and you aren’t thinking clearly right now.”

  Quinn stared his younger brother down, but Evan didn’t retreat. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Evan, shorter than Quinn by three inches, said softly, “Yes, you are.”

  Chris pushed off the wall and clapped a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “Come on, bro.”

  Unwilling to undermine his brother’s authority in front of their prisoner, Quinn retreated from the room. Chris followed him out and stood with him behind the one-way window where they watched Evan approach the man.

  “Get anything from him yet?” Quinn asked, hitting the speaker button on the wall so they could hear what Evan was saying.

&nb
sp; “No, but it won’t be long. Evan’s going at him hard. I hear you took a turn at him.”

  “I wanted him dead.”

  “Join the club, bro. If Evan wasn’t so good at getting people to talk I’d be in there taking my turn.”

  Through the speaker Evan asked, “Where is Ramil Diakameli? We know you’re here under orders.”

  “Avery did the right thing,” Quinn said. “Stop blaming her.”

  Chris scoffed. “How long are you going to—sonofabitch. You slept with her.”

  Quinn faced his brother, prepared for his wrath. He wasn’t prepared for the right hook that slammed him into the wall. Tasting blood he glared at his brother. “Goddammit, Chris.”

  “That’s for breaking Rule Number One.” Chris returned his glare.

  A low grunt of pain came through the speaker, followed by Evan’s calm, controlled voice.

  Chris wasn’t done. “You’re benched, big brother. No longer captain, until you start thinking with the right head.”

  Quinn swiped a thumb over his lip to wipe the blood off. “Like hell I am. This isn’t a football game.”

  Pain shot across Chris’s face. “No, it’s not. But you still slept with your fucking charge and that makes you the biggest idiot in the universe.” He shook his head. “You’re in a tailspin, bro, and if it was any of us you’d do the same.” Then he turned his back to him to stare through the window at the interrogation.

  Ironic, coming from Chris, who always seemed to be in a tailspin for one reason or another. His brother lived fast and loose and it caught him often in the form of a jealous husband or boyfriend. The tables had never been turned before and Quinn didn’t like it.

  “I’m not stepping down. Stay with Evan. I’m gonna go update Dad.”

  A muffled shout of agony came from inside the other room.

  Chris grunted and turned his attention back to the window. “What the fuck ever. Go get your head on straight. You’ve done enough damage.”

  Quinn walked away. He’d rather Chris kicked his ass than say those words to him. Physical pain, he could control. The echo of his brother’s words as he stepped into the warm summer air couldn’t be ignored.

  No matter how he tried, the truth couldn’t be ignored. And from this moment on he’d do his damndest not to do any more damage.