by Addison Fox
“Thank you.” Montana wondered if that was the right thing to say. What did you say to news like that? “You don’t have to hide it from me, you know.”
When he didn’t reply, she added, “I’m sorry I flipped out on you before, but you don’t have to keep anything from me. I won’t break again.”
“I know it’s a lot, Montana. And I’m sorry. Sorry you have to deal with this. Learn about it this way. Sorry you had to see it.”
“Actually.” A half laugh bubbled in her throat. “I’m the one who owes you an apology. Those things I said to you before. To Callie, Ava and Ilsa. I was horrible to all of you, when all you were trying to do—all you’ve been trying to do—is help me. And before…”
She left anything else unsaid.
What did you say? How did you begin to apologize?
Quinn pressed on, ignoring whatever discomfort she felt. “We’ve asked you to absorb so much in the last twenty-four hours. I should have removed you from this situation as soon as I knew what was going on.”
“It’s my home.”
“A home that was breeched by violence.”
Montana saw the riptide of emotion that hurtled across his features. The anger that hardened his lips and jaw. The haunting certainty in the set of his shoulders that he had somehow wronged her. And worst of all—the look of pure anguish as he turned that dark chocolate gaze on her.
“The moment I understood what had happened, I should have removed you from this place.”
“I needed to be here. Laura, Tony and Jackson. They belong to me, Quinn.” It was clear he understood as the harsh set of his jaw softened and the small line that cut a deep groove between his eyebrows relaxed.
On a singular nod, Quinn agreed. “Yes. They were family.”
“And you fought for them. You fought for what is mine. With your bull.” She stopped, reaching for his cheek, the stubble at his jaw line a very real reminder that he was a man. A man with a gift, yes, but a man all the same. “With your talents. You did that for me.”
As if remembering himself, he looked around. “Where’s your mother?”
“Callie and Ava brought her to your home. Callie had a few ideas for her cough and wanted to get her tucked in as soon as she could.”
“We should go as well.”
“We should.”
Montana knew it was the right thing to do. She was beyond exhausted. The painful reality of the day’s events—if she were willing to give in to them—could easily keep her in bed for a month.
So why did she feel the exact opposite of tired? How could she feel attraction? Now?
Her entire life was upside down and all she could think was how badly she wanted to touch the smooth skin of his flesh underneath the tuxedo shirt he still wore, open at the throat and uncuffed and rolled at the sleeves.
The roller coaster of emotions that had grabbed hold of her since Quinn landed on top of her at the previous night’s benefit coalesced into one desperate, aching need.
“I want you.”
His gaze snapped to her with the speed of a runaway train.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I heard the words, but I must have misunderstood. There’s no way you want me, unless it’s the idea that you want me gone.” Before she could say anything, he held up his hand. “I don’t blame you for that.”
Before Montana could second guess herself—or stop the one thing she wanted so desperately her skin practically hummed with it—she reached for Quinn’s hand and pulled him to a standing position. “I want you, Quinn Tanner. All of you, and not a few stolen moments, either.”
Montana knew this was the worst time to suddenly develop an amorous streak, but she couldn’t stop. The revelation of her mother’s illness gave her the final piece she needed to let herself go.
Life was meant to be lived, and for far too long, she’d allowed herself to simply go through the motions.
Oh, to the outside world she looked busy, happy and fulfilled, her life one high-profile event after another. But as the woman who slept alone each and every night, she knew her life was anything but.
Twining her arms around the heavy, corded muscles of his neck and shoulders, Montana lifted her face to his. “Take me away from all this, Quinn. Take me away and make love to me.”
When his lips took hers in rough possession, Montana knew she wouldn’t have to ask twice.
Montana’s mouth met his and her eager response offered the proof behind her words.
Despite all that had happened—all she’d seen over the past thirty-six hours—the beat of attraction that hummed between them was mutual.
Thank the gods.
Desperate for her, Quinn took her lips over and over, in a driving need to get as close to her as he could. His fingers played with the waistband at her robe, tugging at the tie until the knot loosened, the material falling open in front.
With questing fingers, he reached for her, running his hands over the smooth skin of her stomach, up the ridges of her rib cage until he reached the heavy globes of her breasts. As her body filled his palms, he used his thumbs to tease her already-erect nipples, satisfied as they grew harder under his touch.
His own body grew harder by the minute, and he shifted one hand to her lower back to pull her closer. With their lower bodies flush, his erection pressed against her stomach, a hot brand between them.
Quinn felt the world around them grow smaller, so that the only things in it were the two of them and the pleasure that grew and expanded, arcing between them like lightning.
It was only as her head fell back and his lips moved in a deliberate path down her throat that a small piece of the world broke through.
Quinn’s half-lidded gaze took in the flush of pleasure that rode high on her cheeks—along with the increasingly frantic movements of her hands as she pressed them to the small of his back—and the reality of where they were sunk in.
He couldn’t make love to her here.
Not in this place of death.
“Montana,” he whispered against her.
“Mmmm.” Her hands shifted so that she was now cupping his ass, pulling him even tighter against her.
“Baby.” He pressed his forehead to hers, willing some semblance of calm into his body. “We can’t stay here.”
Quinn held himself still as he waited for his words to register. He felt it the moment they did, her questing fingers hovering over his stomach muscles just above the waistband of his slacks.
“What?”
On a harsh drag of air, Quinn moved his hands to take hers. “Let me take you away from here.”
“Where? Your house is full.”
The smile spread before he could help it. “We actually have more rooms than you think, but I had somewhere else in mind.”
“Where?”
“Do you want to go to Texas?”
“Now?”
“Now.”
The sensual haze that had turned her sky-blue eyes almost violet subsided as logic fought for purchase. “Let me go get some clothes.”
“You don’t need to do anything but stand still and hang on.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Ready?”
She nodded, and Quinn couldn’t help but smile at the small crease of apprehension on her forehead. “I promise. We’ll be there before you know it.”
Before she could even reply, he launched them into the port, an image of the Warriors’ ranch in the Texas Hill Country filling his mind’s eye.
The heavy rush of the universe pulled on them both, before whirling them through time and space to the very spot Quinn pictured in his mind.
“Oh!”
Montana’s moue of surprise was the first thing he heard as the rush of air subsided and his feet found firm purchase in the front hallway of the house. “Here we are.”
“Holy shit.” Montana’s arms were still wrapped around his waist and her body still pressed sensually against his, but her eyes roamed arou
nd her surroundings, taking in the oversized two-story foyer. “This place is beautiful.”
“I’ll take that as the highest compliment coming from one of the world’s wealthiest women.”
A small frown touched the edges of her lips. “I can still appreciate a beautiful home.”
Quinn smiled and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Of course you can. It doesn’t mean the compliment is any less appreciated.”
An answering smile greeted him, followed by the quick assessment of a situation that he was coming to realize was her hallmark. “You’re right. And seeing as how I really have no interest in discussing architecture with you, is there any reason you didn’t port us straight into your bedroom?”
“I wanted to make sure no one was here. We come and go as we please, but no one keeps their things here permanently.”
“And you didn’t want to land us on top of anyone?”
Quinn laughed at the image, but acknowledged she was correct. “Especially since my plan is to make love to you in the largest, most luxurious bed here.”
“First choice for any good seduction scene.”
“Bingo.”
Hands entwined, Quinn led her down the long hallway into the wide-open kitchen. A quick scan showed no glasses on the counter or dishes in the sink, confirming this was a very good idea.
As he turned to see Montana pulling the folds of her robe closed with one hand, her modesty suddenly on display, he couldn’t help pulling her close for another wild kiss.
The ranch house was a very good idea.
Montana pulled the ties of her robe closed as she followed Quinn through an oversized living room that looked like it could easily host touch-football games, then on toward a curving staircase that ran along the far wall.
It was a stunning home. She’d always loved exploring new places and seeing how every individual put their own stamp on a place.
The Warriors’ home was no different. Where the brownstone had been elegant and refined, this home had a rustic quality with a decidedly masculine underpinning. The two large-screen TVs that bookended the living room only added punctuation marks to the thought.
Quinn ran a finger down her face, capturing a lock of hair between his thumb and forefinger. The gesture was so sweet—so reminiscent of the night before when he brought her home to safety—that her pulse tripped and she felt the low, insistent tug of attraction reassert itself.
“Was this a bad idea, Montana? Coming here? Would you rather just go back to the brownstone?”
She knew it wasn’t. Just because they’d taken a few moments out of the pleasure building between them didn’t mean it was a bad idea. The question was, how to put her brain on hold to just sit back and enjoy it.
“No. You were right to leave my apartment.” After what had happened there—to Jackson and to Laura and then her behavior afterward—it wasn’t the place to make love to Quinn.
They needed somewhere new to take the next step on their journey together.
“I’m glad we left.”
“Good. Since I’m quite sure we have the place to ourselves.” Quinn leaned in and scooped her up in his arms. She felt gravity shift as those large arms came around her, followed immediately by the loud rush of air she was coming to associate with him.
With a thud, Quinn landed on his back on an enormous bed and she bounced on top of him.
The moment felt so wonderful—so carefree—she couldn’t stop the joy filling her chest. “I wouldn’t call it graceful, but it is highly effective. And what do we have here?” Montana scrambled to the side of his large body where he sprawled across the duvet. “A bed.”
Quinn rolled to his side and propped himself up on an elbow. “I figured we’d done enough talking. But I promise you, before we leave here, I’ll tell you everything.”
“No more questions?”
His sideways nod was solemn in the dark light of the bedroom. “No more questions. I promise.”
“Well then.” Montana leaned forward, one hand flicking at the studs of his tuxedo shirt. “I love a man of action. What did you have in mind before we leave?”
Quinn’s hand captured hers, the thud of his heart heavy under her palm. “Let me show you.”
Moonlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing in enough light to see every inch of Montana’s perfect body. Her fingertips pressed against his chest and he removed the hand that covered hers to allow her continued exploration.
His own exploration was considerably less complicated than removing tuxedo studs, as he reached forward and once again tugged the tie at her waist. Because she was on her side, half the robe fell away to reveal one breast. He reached out to remove all of her robe, his hands caressing the smooth skin of her shoulders as he pressed the material away.
He urged her back until she lay on the bed, then pulled away and ripped at his shirt. What was left of the tuxedo studs in his shirt flew around the room and landed with a musical tinkle.
“Effective.” She smiled up at him.
“Efficient,” he added, before leaning down to cover her mouth with his.
Quinn wasn’t sure how it happened—wasn’t sure how he was able to make himself slow down—but in that moment, all he wanted was to show her how much he cared.
How safe and protected she was.
His movements slow, he dragged out the kiss, branding her lips and mouth with his tongue. As he continued the deep, drugging exploration of her mouth, he used his hands to paint the warm, fascinating canvas of her body.
With one long sweeping motion, he ran his hands over her body, from the base of her throat down over the peak of one breast, through the valley of her stomach to settle between the warm, welcome opening between her thighs.
Hot, liquid heat met his questing fingers and he couldn’t help but pull back and smile at her. “That’s one damn fine welcome, darling.”
The dark, sensual haze that had turned her eyes a rich shade of indigo in the moonlight went even darker as he pressed one finger against the slick opening of her body.
“You’re certainly taking your sweet time about it.”
With deft pressure, Quinn leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Count on it.”
And then there were no more words as he used his fingers to make love to her, his gaze never leaving hers.
His body ached to be buried inside of her, but he wouldn’t—nay, couldn’t—change this moment if he wanted to. Time stretched out, breaths mingled as she rocked against his hand, taking her pleasure.
Quinn felt the moment spread out before him in wonder. The warm responsive woman in his arms, the absolute trust in her gaze as she gave herself up to the pleasure he created, the unique sense that no matter how many lifetimes he’d lived, he’d never shared a moment like this with anyone.
He felt the pressure build, the tightening response of her body around his fingers before she let go on a soft moan.
Satisfaction curled in his belly as he watched her shatter. This beautiful woman—his woman—had found release and he refused to let it end there.
Shifting his position on the bed, he rained kisses over her sensitive skin. He savored the light, salty taste of her sweat-slicked skin and the dark, ripe flavor of her breasts as he ran his tongue over the darkened tip of one nipple. She writhed under his mouth, the soft moans a symphony as he focused on her.
Only her.
Shifting yet again, he continued the exploration with his mouth, moving lower toward the epicenter of her pleasure. Before she could catch a breath, he pressed his lips against her, his tongue probing deep within to drive her to madness once again.
He heard her sharp intake of breath—her sweet cry of pleasure—before he took her again, his tongue exploding with her rich, sensual taste. He focused on the tight bundle of nerves of her clitoris, heightened to the brink with sensitivity, and knew the moment she lost control again.
Beyond reason, beyond need, beyond want, he worshipped at the altar of her plea
sure.
Montana wasn’t sure she could breathe. Hell, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to. The sheer magic of being held in his arms—of being pleasured by Quinn—had left her completely sated.
Quinn’s head pillowed against her stomach and she toyed with the short, soft locks of his hair.
“Is that an acquired skill? Or one of Themis’s gifts? Something special to subdue your subjects?”
He lifted his head, his dark eyes like midnight as he gazed up at her. “None of the above. That was something special created just for you, baby.”
Her heart rolled over at his words—at the tender, sexy affection she heard on the word “baby”—and her insides turned all soft and gooey.
“I find I have a decided urge to return the favor. And look at you.” She pushed on his shoulders to get him on his back. “You’re still wearing pants. That’s not very conducive to what I have in mind.”
“Far be it from me to stop you.” His sexy grin lit up his face.
“Exactly.”
The tight ridge of Quinn’s erection pressed against the silk of his dress slacks and a thrill ran through her at the obvious promise of what was to come.
Impatient, she dragged at the fastening to his slacks, then pulled on the zipper, satisfied when she found no further barrier. Her gaze shot to his, his eyelids at half-mast as her fingers hovered around the most sensitive part of him. “Commando, eh?”
If she wasn’t mistaken, a light blush suffused his cheeks as he opened his eyes. “I just never got used to it. Something underneath my clothes.”
“Oh, I’m not complaining.” Montana reached for the hard length of him. “Not at all.”
His eyelids drooped again as a bolt of sheer, feminine pleasure suffused her veins.
Was there anything sexier than a man at his most vulnerable?
She shifted position, tugging the pants off the rest of the way and dropping them to the floor, then straddled his legs with hers. Leaning forward, she took his hard length between her hands and, with the pressure of her palms took him on a ride.
