Quinn leaned forward and breathed.
“Oh, fuck.” Owen’s hand in her hair tightened. He hooked an arm under hers and pulled her up to her feet, walking her backward until she hit the wall.
His hands were everywhere, pushing her pajamas down, pulling her shirt over her head. It was a flurry of action filled with need.
He cupped her mound, his fingers sliding through her folds.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered.
“Mm.” She shifted her hips, abandoning any sense of self-consciousness.
There wasn’t a whole lot left to be nervous about. They’d covered the truly personal stuff and now it was an experiment in honesty.
He wanted her.
She wanted him.
The how and why didn’t matter anymore.
Owen dug his wallet out with one hand. She took it from him and pulled out the condom she’d prompted him to replace. She ripped it open and he snagged the latex disc as it fell to the floor. His chuckle was harsh.
She pressed her shoulders to the wall and watched him roll the condom on.
Sex had never been a high priority. It was simply a part of a relationship. At least until Owen. Sex wasn’t everything, but each time he was inside of her, she felt that closeness, their bond strengthening. She knew the chemical reasons why, but this felt like more.
He reached for her, grasping her by the hips and lifting.
She gasped, unaccustomed to Owen’s show of strength. He wasn’t just the pushy, nice guy who fixed stuff around her house.
Quinn wrapped her legs around his hips, his cock trapped between them. He set her back against the wall and let go with one hand, long enough to position his erection. She arched her back, pressing down on him.
She groaned, relishing the feel of him. The rightness of it all.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Yeah?”
“God, you’re amazing.” He shifted and gravity did the rest, joining their bodies in a way that was right.
He cupped her ass and kissed her neck as he pulled out of her. She clutched his shoulders, digging in her nails. He thrust hard enough it drove the breath from her lungs.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“No—no sorry.” She dug her heels into his ass.
He thrust again, this time without reservation.
She groaned. It was different. Deeper, harder. Full of need and more.
“Like this?” he asked against her cheek.
“Yeah. Just like that.” She turned her face, finding his lips with hers. The better to keep those three little words inside.
Something against the wall rattled in time with his thrusts. She didn’t care what, but the feel of the vibrations against the wall, his heated flesh, the cool air, the smell of their bodies, it was all consuming. She wanted to wrap herself in him, live like this forever. Connected, body and soul. It was holly ridiculous, and yet the concept appealed to her.
Quinn braced her foot on the wall, the better to move with him. He shifted his grasp on her ass, changing the angle of his thrusts.
“Oh—my god.” She gasped for air, her body shuddering as he stroked a deeper pleasure point.
Owen plunged into her body, the sensation overwhelming her. She opened her mouth, but screaming or crying out were beyond her.
Deep inside, her body began to tremble. The tremors grew in strength until her hands shook.
“That’s it,” Owen said against her neck.
He buried his face in her hair and wrapped his arms around her waist. He moved her by sheer strength, his motions jerky, rough, uneven. And then he stopped, their bodies deeply joined, her very soul resounding with the coupling.
“Quinn—oh, god—I love you. I love you. I love you.” Owen’s voice was ragged, the notes desperate.
They both froze. Her heart ached, those words the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.
“Really?” She prayed he wasn’t joking, that they weren’t the product of passion.
“Ignore me,” he said into her hair.
“No—are you serious?” She leaned back, the better to see him.
“Forget it.” He glanced away, not willing to meet her gaze.
“Owen.” She took his face in both hands, staring into his eyes until he’d finally look at her. This was...big. Important. Scary. And it mattered. She opened her mouth, but that last little step, saying those words back—she couldn’t make her mouth move. She swallowed down the knot in her throat and prayed he meant it.
“Are you serious? Because if you are, that’s okay.” She stroked his hair, his cheek, committing this moment to memory.
“Are you sure?” He licked his lips.
“Yes.”
“Then...” Owen pushed her hair off her face. He rested his forehead against hers. “Yeah. I love you. Got a problem with that?”
“No.” She held up her hand, crooking her pinky at him. “I’ll tell you a secret, if you promise to keep it.”
“Deal.” He hooked his finger in hers, pulling her hand to his lips for a quick kiss.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
He laughed and she chuckled.
They were ridiculous, and yet...perfect. They’d met at the lowest point in both their lives, and they’d damn well climb out of this valley together. Stronger. Better for having each other. Which was why she had to protect him. Why the next few hours, if anything happened, would be about preserving their future.
“I love you, Quinn,” he said against her lips.
She eased her legs from around him and he helped her stand.
Love was great and all, but she needed a little more assurance.
“Owen? Can we make one more deal? A serious one?” She looped her arms around his waist.
“What is it?”
“Don’t let me go back on this. When the dust settles and we figure out how life is going to be, don’t let me push you out of my life. Please?”
“I’ve got a secret.” He grinned at her. “I’m not so nice as to fuck off, just because you tell me to.”
“I hate to tell you, but that’s not a secret.” She poked his chest and grinned.
Owen ducked his head and kissed her, following it up with another dozen, “I love you”s, lost in her hair, against her skin.
“Was that your stomach growling?” he asked.
“I...think so...”
“Quinn. I’m going to shower. You,” he tapped her nose, “eat.”
“Fine. Mind if I use the bathroom real quick?”
“Be my guest. I’ve got to figure out what Chloe brought me anyway.”
Quinn darted into the bathroom and washed up.
Life was such an odd thing at times. If it weren’t for things going wrong, she’d never have gotten to know Owen like she had.
She left the bathroom to Owen, scooped up her clothes and got dressed again before going in search of the promised food. The others had said something about Aunt Liv bringing up plates, but she’d been too wound up to think about food.
Quinn listened to the shower turn on.
What would life be like with Owen around?
Interesting, at least.
He was nothing like Dad. Never had been. Owen was a partner. Someone she could rely on.
She slid the bowl of shepherd’s pie into the microwave and picked her phone up from where it was charging on the counter.
There was an email.
She hadn’t hoped for one, but...there it was. When she’d typed that draft, she’d wondered if Zach was right, if whoever was out there would see her white flag and come to the table to figure out a resolution.
If she promised to give them everything they wanted, then no one had to die.
She could live a quiet life with Owen, raise her sister and find something else to pour herself into. HI-Co didn’t have to be it for her. There were other places she could work.
Q,
Got your note. Meet at your place. Alone.
There wasn’t a
time, but if the timestamp was to be trusted, the email only arrived fifteen minutes ago. Right about when she was starting to see her world in a whole new light.
A week ago, she’d have fought this, but now she had Owen and the promise of a future. That future was worth fighting for.
19.
Quinn slipped out the back door of Trinity Hall, holding her breath. The bar was still doing lively business and the guys were otherwise focused on free beer. Her only concern was being spotted by a waitress or one of the bartenders on a smoke break.
She lifted the hood over her head, covering her hair. Stealing Owen’s hoodie was a twofold solution, first, his scent clinging to the fabric comforted her and gave her strength, second, the baggy material would hopefully disguise her enough to make it past the glass windows. Erik had done full-blown security improvements in the weeks following Aunt Liv’s kidnapping, which included new lights on the sidewalk outside the pub.
The good news was that she could make it home in a ten minute walk, probably less, since she was both sober and didn’t have Kierra with her. Every time they went to the pub for lunch or dinner, Kierra wanted to stop and pet the flowers or walk in someone’s grass barefoot.
Quinn was doing this to preserve her life, give herself a chance.
It would all work out in the end.
That was what she had to tell herself.
She crossed to the sidewalk, keeping her head low. The staff lot was a small parking area that had been fenced in recently. Quinn let herself out through a small gate. People on the patio were laughing, enjoying the cool night under the stars.
Quinn strode past, keeping her gaze on the street.
One glimpse of her face and this wasn’t going to work.
The bells on the front doors rang and a familiar laugh drifted out on the night.
“See you guys later,” Javier said. Right behind her.
Quinn quickstepped forward, praying that the jovial trickster didn’t spot her. That he didn’t make her out for who she was.
She kept going, all the way to the corner, but Javier never called out to her.
Still, Quinn didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until she’d made it around the corner and across the street.
People inside the pub could still see her, but she’d be harder to identify the farther she got.
Quinn lengthened her stride, fighting the urge to sprint home.
First, she couldn’t run all that fast. Second, she was in flip-flops. And lastly, if she’d learned anything watching all those cartoons with Kierra, it was that running always attracted the attention of something dangerous.
In this case, it was her friends.
She cut through the yard at the corner of the street, something she’d never allowed Kierra to do before, but tonight was a special set of circumstances. Once she’d ducked past the old brick home she breathed a little easier.
The coast was clear-ish.
At any moment, Owen would get out of the shower and realize she was gone. She had as much time as it took him to realize she could have returned home and to come after her. She could only hope this would be enough time to cut a deal. For their future. So she could see how far this love thing lasted.
She made it to her darkened street in near record time. Her thigh muscles ached and sweat trickled down her spine, but she was there.
Quinn slowed her stride as her house came into view.
The lights in the living room were on, shining merrily through the windows.
She’d left those lights off and the curtains drawn.
A car that wasn’t hers sat in the drive, blocking her little sedan in.
Quinn stood on the sidewalk, staring at her front door.
This was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?
She could be walking into a trap.
Should she have brought a weapon?
What did she know about firing a gun or anything?
She was a bookish person. Fighting, running and hiding from people who wanted her dead was not her strong suit. It was why she’d needed Owen, and now it was time for her to handle this problem head on. By herself.
Quinn took a deep breath and walked through the short-shorn grass to her porch. Dew dampened the hem of her pajama pants and made her sandals slick with moisture. She breathed in the scent of a freshly-cut lawn and the smell of wet earth. This was her home. Her life. They were worth fighting for.
The stairs creaked underfoot as she climbed to the porch.
She couldn’t see inside.
If this was a trap, the person might shoot her on entry.
She stood to the side of the door, opened the screen and pushed the heavy door open. For a moment she didn’t breathe.
No one shot her.
Nothing jumped out at her.
She peered into the living room.
It was empty.
“Inside,” a voice said behind her.
She gasped and turned.
A man stood in the shadows below her on the walk.
He put one foot on the lowest stair.
She darted inside, into the safe halo of light.
Quinn had walked into the trap.
She turned and backed across the living room, almost to the hall.
The man entered after her, a hat casting long shadows on his face. His hands were bandaged and what skin she could see was red and glistened.
What did she say?
How did these things happen?
She licked her lips, wishing for something to hold onto right now.
“Got your message,” he said.
“You want the key, right? That’s what all of this is about?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t fuck with me.”
“It’s not just about the key. It’s the key, the journals, the research, and the prototype.”
Everything.
He wanted it all.
Her soul screamed, No!
She couldn’t give up the one piece of work she’d taken from her mother’s journals and carried over the line. But was it worth her life? The lives of those she loved?
It wasn’t. And that was why she was here. As much as she’d loved working on that project, it was a thing. An object. It couldn’t love her back, like Owen could.
“And me? Whoever hired you wants me dead, too?” She shifted her feet. Flip-flops were a horrible idea if she needed to run.
“It’s nothing personal.” He shrugged.
“Then how does this end? How do I get my life back?”
“Give me everything and promise to be a good girl.” His tone was mocking.
“How do I know you’ll leave me alone if I do this?”
“You don’t, but they only care about stopping your research, so...”
“If I promise to drop the whole project, will they leave me alone?”
“I suspect that will suffice.”
“You suspect? I need some sort of assurance.”
“Well, you aren’t getting it. You have to ask yourself, are you willing to take a chance, possibly survive, or would you like to die right now?” He lifted his shirt and drew a gun. He didn’t point it at her, simply held it at his side.
“If you kill me, you don’t get the key or the research. They’ll still show the prototype without me,” she blurted. No one at HI-Co would show her battery, but he didn’t know that.
“Then it seems we only have one option,” he said.
“I give you everything and you leave me alone? And Kierra? And Owen?”
The man paused.
She’d been the job, but Owen was the bonus.
“Sure,” he said after a moment.
Quinn almost wept in relief. They were going to be okay. This would work. Tomorrow it would all be one, awful nightmare.
“The stuff isn’t here. I have to go get it.” The key was here, but the rest was at the garage. “I’ll give you an address. Meet me there in an hour and you’ll get everything.”
“I could take you,�
�� he offered.
“No. You’ve already tried to kill me.” She shook her head.
“Fine. One hour. Address?”
“I’ll put it in an email in twenty minutes. You and I both have to get out of here. Any moment now, the guys are going to realize I’m gone and this is the first place they’ll check. If neither of us wants to get caught, we have to both leave. Now.”
“Smart girl.” He chuckled. “See you soon.”
She stood her ground and watched the man duck out her front door. She counted to ten before the unknown car in her driveway rumbled to life, the lights shining through the windows.
Quinn darted down the hall and snagged the keys off the hook near the basement door.
They’d been in plain sight all along, but no one would know what they were, without her pointing them out.
She hoofed it out the front door and into her car, locking the doors first, then checking her back seat. This whole thing was too crazy not to be extra cautious.
Her cell phone rang.
Her stomach clenched.
Quinn pulled the phone out and stared at Owen’s name for half a second.
She was doing this for them.
Owen’s stomach was gnawing on his spine. The prospect of more bar food, even the home-cooked options, wasn’t as appealing as a greasy, loaded pizza. He hitched the towel around his hips and opened the bathroom door, letting out all the heat.
“Hey, Quinn? I was thinking about ordering a pizza. Interested?” he tilted his head to the side.
No answer.
Had she fallen asleep?
It was getting late.
He stepped into his boxers before leaving the bathroom. He grabbed the towel and wandered out, rubbing the water out of his hair.
The bed was still made.
He padded into the living room, but didn’t spy her on the sectional or anywhere else.
Had she gone downstairs?
Owen had really wanted to spend some time together, without the guys, but after everything they’d been through, if she craved people, he’d deal.
He got dressed in the clothes Chloe had brought him. By some miracle, she’d had some jeans and a shirt of his hanging around her place. Once clothed, he headed downstairs to the bar. There was no reason to run her phone down more with an unnecessary text.
Noble Prince (Twisted Royals, #4) Page 24
