by Abby Gordon
“What?” She frowned, looking up at him. “Why…” He saw comprehension appear in her eyes. “No,” she shook her head. “He’s in enough shit as it is,” she whispered. “He wouldn’t want to add to it by coming after me. I mean, I could understand Duncan or one of the others coming after me, but not Hammond.”
Quincy recognized the names, but didn’t understand what she meant.
“Why would one of the men MacLauren fired today come after you?”
“Because I’m the one who told Keith what was going on in Programming…the sexual harassment, the intellectual theft. I’m the reason they got fired. They might not know, but they’re not idiots. They’ll figure it out. I mean, I wasn’t harassed the way some of the other women were, but they stole my ideas and took credit for my work…”
Quincy listened to her ramble and realized there was a helluva lot more going on with her than he’d thought. She had not only stirred up the hornet’s nest at MC but she was also the only one who could pin the attack on Hammond. Which meant a lot of pissed-off men could be gunning for her. From what he gathered from the conversation between MacLauren and his cousin, Hammond had the support of many in the MacLauren family. That meant they’d probably be bailing him out and publicly supporting him.
“Look, we might need to leave the city,” he murmured, increasing his pace. He nodded as Hancock drove past him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she stated firmly. “Keith put me in charge of a project that’s due in six weeks. He promised that MC would meet and fulfill all our contracts. This one is the biggest we’ve got due. I’m not letting him down. This whole thing is my fault as it is.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Weren’t you paying attention? He fired those men and…”
He raised the remote and unlocked the truck. Putting her in the front seat, he closed the door and hurried around to the driver’s side. Climbing in, he started the engine.
“That doesn’t make any of this your fault. He’s the CEO. The responsibility is his.” He punched the address into the GPS before giving her a solemn look. “From his reaction, he looks like he’s accepting it. He’s doing what he needs to do. You worry about what you need to do.”
“And number one is making sure Claire doesn’t go off with those two perverts,” she muttered.
Quincy clamped his jaw shut. He’d recognized the two men as members of an exclusive sex club where he’d gone undercover three years earlier. It had been the perfect assignment for him. He was a sexual dominant, although some of the scenes he’d been involved in were more extreme than he’d ever done or would do again. The owner had been sufficiently grateful for his discretion and recognized his natural dominant tendencies and had sponsored him as a member. Already, he wondered what it would be like for Debbie to surrender. He could just imagine her on her knees, wrists bound at the small of her back, her mouth open to receive his cock.
He took a deep breath. He was to protect her, not seduce her and make her his submissive. She was feisty, stubborn, and…loyal, protective, and intelligent. And what the hell was he thinking? He was a loner. Lone wolf. A single hawk in the sky. There was no way in hell he was getting involved with a woman in any way, shape, or form.
He glanced over at her and saw her shivering despite her thick parka. Well, yeah, idiot, he told himself. Underneath she had on light track pants and a T-shirt. He reached up and turned on the heat.
“Thank you,” she whispered, stretching her hands out.
“You always dress like that?”
“We had just come back from kickboxing class. We were about to knock on Serena’s door and see if she wanted to order Chinese with us when…” She sighed as her voice drifted off. “Please? Can we hurry so I can stop Claire from going off with those…”
“Perverts?” he murmured, calling on all his control. He hated it when people criticized what they didn’t understand. Figures that a woman he was itching to dominate seemed disgusted by one part of the scene. “Only one claimed to be her boyfriend.”
“That asshole Paul seduced her so she would be with him and David. They planned this all along.”
“And you have a problem with that?”
“He tricked her… What? What do you mean, do I have a problem with that?” she demanded. “How could I not have a problem with that? Two men…”
“Some women like being with two men,” he replied. “Some men like being with two women.”
At a red light, he glanced over and caught her shocked expression. But also noted the way her tongue darted out between two rosy lips. Well, now, that was interesting. Let’s see just how much of her reaction was outrage and how much was her own submerged need, he decided. He’d discovered that many people were just scratching the surface of their sexual needs.
His conscience pushed down the brief thought that he was taking advantage of the situation. But, damn! Instinct told him that Debbie had little experience with sex and was ripe for the picking. Just how fast could he move on her though?
Reel her in soft and easy, he thought, choosing his next words carefully, as if reflecting to himself.
“Some people like giving up all control to someone they trust. Or being spanked or tied to the bed or someone using toys on them.” He paused. “Sometimes all of that. At once.”
She shifted on the seat and exhaled shakily. Her tongue wet her bottom lip before she caught it with her upper teeth. Bingo! He dropped his gaze and saw her thighs rub against each other. Debbie was turned on despite her disgust for Claire’s situation. He reviewed what he’d seen of the lawyers at the Club. Not everything added up, but he remembered enough to know that Paul had similar tastes. Oh, this was so damn perfect he could hardly believe it.
“Now, I’m assuming you don’t have a boyfriend since you didn’t mention one when Claire did?” That should force her off balance a bit.
“No, I don’t,” she frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’ve got one now.” He tapped the brakes as an idiot decided to jaywalk. “Asshole,” he muttered. “I’ll be a freelance computer security specialist and, when you called me about tonight, I decided that I wasn’t risking you being attacked and…”
“You went all caveman on me and insisted on moving in?” she said sarcastically.
“That’s perfect,” he grinned, nodding and glancing at her. “It gives us something in common besides a wicked sense of humor. Now, how would we have met?” He stopped at the next red light. “Where do you usually hang out when not at work?”
“Clubs or the gym, so that won’t work because it’s a regular crowd,” she frowned. “And they’ll ask why they haven’t seen you around. I mean, even asshole Paul went to the clubs with us a couple times.” Her mouth made a moue. “He even got us into one of the more exclusive ones and insisted that we go there even if he wasn’t with us. He said he knew their security and we’d be safe there.”
Quincy frowned. How many exclusive clubs could Paul have taken them to? One in particular came to mind. He smiled slightly. She’d already been exposed to the scene and didn’t even realize it. That meant she probably hadn’t been there after a certain time, which was probably Paul’s influence.
“We’ll say I’ve been out of town the past couple months doing fieldwork, which is the truth.” In a manner of speaking, he thought. “We talked and emailed a lot and, when I’ve been able to be in town, we didn’t go out.” He smiled.
“That might work.” She nodded slowly, frowning in thought. “I’ll have to tell you when I wasn’t out so we can coordinate that. But we still have the problem of when we met.”
“Have you been anywhere else the past few months that would be plausible?” he frowned. Shit, this might be harder than he thought. “Maybe just with Claire or the victim tonight?”
“Serena,” she told him, voice quiet. “Her name’s Serena.”
“All right,” he nodded. “Serena and Claire. Or your hometown? Maybe I could be an
old boyfriend from…”
“No!” She shook her head, surprising him with her volume.
“Okay, what’s in your hometown that you don’t want anything to do with?”
She slumped in the corner. “Everything.”
“This is getting complicated,” he muttered.
For a couple blocks, there was silence. She sat upright and turned toward him. Quincy nearly drove off the street when he felt her hand on his arm.
“Madison Square Garden.”
“For what?” he frowned. “I’m not into basketball and the season’s barely started.”
“You are now into mixed martial arts,” she grinned. “The fights were…”
“Three months ago,” he grinned back at her. “Would you believe I was there?”
“You’re shitting me?” she stared. “Where were your seats? No, don’t tell me,” she held her hand up. “Front row, where you could actually see what the hell was going on.”
“Pretty much,” he nodded.
“I am so jealous,” she sighed. “I practically spent a paycheck and barely got on the floor. But it was so worth it.” She sighed again as if in rapture. “What about the people you were with? Won’t they…”
“They were the guys you just met,” he assured her. “All I have to do is text them a few deets about what you were wearing and they’ll invent an entire conversation if asked.”
“Cool,” she sighed, settling back down. She gave him a sly look. “You might not be so bad after all.”
He grunted. “Thanks. You take kickboxing classes. You might not be so bad either.” He gave her the sly look right back. “I can’t handle whimpy, whiney women.”
She grinned back. “Now, tell me why we need to do this charade again.”
“So far, your name hasn’t shown up in connection with any of the charges directly related to the shit that went down at MC today. If the men fired don’t connect you with anything, then they won’t come after you. If you suddenly have a bodyguard, then someone might start putting pieces together. We cover that angle with a boyfriend who uses this as an excuse to move in with you.”
“Let me guess,” she drawled as he turned into the parking garage. “You’re suddenly over-protective and think that I’m the perfect woman.”
“That sounds good,” he nodded. Ignoring the stunned expression on her face, he rolled his window down. Leaning toward the booth, he spoke to the attendant. “Name’s Quincy. Three month pass was called in about half an hour ago.”
Next to him, he heard Debbie choking and glanced over his shoulder. She had her hand over her mouth, her eyes bugging out of her head.
“Here you go, sir. Payment just came through a minute ago,” the older man nodded, extending an envelope. Quincy turned back around and took the envelope. “Security card works for both the entrance over there,” the man’s hand gestured to the right. “As well as raising the arm. Your slot is three-fourteen.”
“Great. Have a good night.”
“You, too, sir.”
As they pulled forward, Debbie burst into the laughter she had suppressed.
“I’m going to regret this, but what is so funny?”
“Me being the perfect woman for anyone. Trust me…no one who knows me is going to buy that.”
“My answer to that, if anyone is stupid enough to bring it up, is that they obviously don’t know you the way I do.”
“I don’t think you understand. I don’t even buy it.”
“Why?”
That seemed to stump her. Finding the slot, Quincy backed in and shut everything off. Turning to her, he found her knees drawn up with her heels resting on the edge of the seat. Her arms were wrapped around her shins and her cheek rested on her knee. He released her seatbelt and turned her toward him. In the florescent light of the garage, the bruising seemed garish on her delicate features.
“Why do you find it hard to believe that a man might see you as the perfect woman for him?”
“Because I’m not perfect,” she whispered. “I’ve screwed up everyone’s life that I’ve ever been involved with. There’s no way anyone, any man, would think I wouldn’t do the same to his.”
“No one’s perfect,” he said slowly, having no idea where this was coming from. “And I find it difficult to believe that you’re that bad.”
“Two examples…Serena was attacked and Claire is about to go live with…”
“Correction…you saved Serena and Claire is a grown woman responsible for her own life,” he admonished.
“You don’t understand now, but you will. Trust me, you will,” she assured him, opening her door and sliding out.
“Goddammit!” he swore, bolting out and around the truck.
He caught her arm and gripped her tightly.
“You do not go anywhere without me,” he ground out, staring down into her brown eyes. “Is that clear? You are under my protection and I take that very seriously. Where you go, I am there. Closer than your shadow. Now, stay here while I get my gear. Stay. Here. Understand?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she grunted.
She scowled as he backed up, taking her with him. Grabbing his duffle bags, he hoisted one over his shoulder, secured the truck and hefted the other. He then took her upper arm. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, not that he had much of that, he ignored the obscenity she muttered under her breath.
“Do I get to pee and poop without a chaperone?”
“Depends on where we are.”
“You are insane.”
“No,” he shook his head. “As much as possible, we’re keeping to your regular routine and…”
“That doesn’t include a caveman for a boyfriend.”
“Enough,” he told her, shaking her arm slightly. “My boss told me to protect you, so that’s what I’m going to do. You don’t like it, then talk to your boss.”
“I just might do that.”
“Well, until tomorrow, you’re stuck with me.”
As they marched toward the brownstone, Quincy could hear her grinding her teeth. He gave himself even odds…spanking her before he fucked her. And he wanted to crawl inside those slippery pants as fast as he could.
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