by Tinnean
Gregor gave me a sharp look, but all he asked was, “Were you able to catch forty winks?”
“You know I’m good for nothing if I try to take a nap.”
“I didn’t ask you that.”
I gave a huff. “No, you didn’t.” Stubbornly, I refused to answer. What good would it do, telling him about the nightmare?
“You look like shit, Quinn, and your mother is not going to be happy with me.”
“You’re not my nursemaid, Gregor.”
“No. But I’m your friend.”
“Then be my friend, and please don’t nag.”
His eyebrow climbed toward his hairline. “Yes, sir!”
“Pain in the ass.” But it was muttered softly under my breath so he wouldn’t hear. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. “Gregor….”
“Never mind. They’re here.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard the car pull into the drive.”
I opened the front door and went out onto the steps just as the car rolled to a stop in the drive. Mother got out, and I hurried across the lawn to greet her.
“You’re looking tired, sweetheart.”
“I’m very glad it’s Friday, Mother. It’s been a long week. I was at State today.” I couldn’t take my eyes off Mark. He was alive, not a single drop of blood obscuring his looks, not a single broken bone protruding through his skin. “You know how that can be. On top of that, the Lexus needed to go in for its eighteen-thousand-mile tune-up. It’s a good thing your message let me know that Gregor was in town. I called him and got a lift.” I was rambling.
Mother was aware of all of that. There was concern in her eyes.
“Mrs. Mann!” Gregor’s hands were fisted on his hips.
“I’m coming, Gregor.” Mother took my hand, and I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. She must have accepted it, because she let me go and turned to join Gregor on the steps.
Mark came around his car. “Mann. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Mother’s message also let me know she was going to look at a condominium with you. What did you think of Aspen Reach?”
“The community is okay.” He fell into step beside me, and we walked toward the house.
“Only okay? What about the condo?”
“Barring any unforeseen difficulties—and I don’t think there will be any, they’re desperate to unload it—it’s mine.” He was in a very good mood.
Mother paused, looked over her shoulder. “Goodness knows Francesca worked hard enough to sell it. And that wasn’t all she was selling.” She smiled grimly, climbed the steps, and disappeared into the house.
“Francesca?” I stopped dead. Was that why he was in such a good mood? Was he becoming interested in this woman? Mark walked past me. He didn’t even realize I was no longer beside him.
And then he did. He stopped and looked back at me. “Quinn?”
“Should I be jealous?” I didn’t wait to hear what he had to say. I’d been tortured by nightmares, and he’d been screwing around.
“She isn’t my type, Mann.”
I ignored him and went into the house. He was right behind me, and he pinched my ass. When I turned to glare at him, he grinned at me.
“Unless she’s hiding them behind blue contacts, she doesn’t have hazel eyes.”
“And you mean to say that if she did, you’d find her… interesting?”
His jaw dropped. “Quinn, what….” Now he was concerned?
“Well, if you want to fuck her, don’t let me stop you, Vincent.” I brushed my hair out of my eyes and gave him a cool look. Manns did not reveal to anyone the fact that they were bleeding inside. I started to walk away from him.
“Are you kidding?” He grabbed my arm, jerking me to a halt. “You think I’d do something like that to you?”
“Why not? You’re….” Before I could tell him that he was free and over twenty-one, he pulled me against him and slammed his mouth onto mine.
I could have freed myself easily. He might have been WBIS, but I came from a long line of officers, agents, and spies. I could have taken him. If that had been what I’d wanted to do.
But I didn’t want to do that. I sighed into his mouth and leaned into him.
“Mann, what the fuck is up?”
“I just needed to know….” That I wasn’t setting myself up for a fall. “I’m sorry. It’s been a bitch of a day, ending an all-time bitch of a week.”
“You’re gonna piss and moan one time too often, and then….”
“You’re going to leave me?” Oh, that was very smart, Mann. Why not just come right out and tell the man you’ve got it bad for him?
“No. CIA idiot. I’m gonna knock you on your ass.”
“You’ve already knocked me on my ass.”
“I have?”
“Didn’t you know?” What was the point in trying to deny what I felt for him? He was Mark Vincent. He’d probably already figured it out, and since he wasn’t laughing his ass off, maybe…. I kissed him and whispered against his lips, “I’m disappointed in you.”
“Damned spook. Come on. Novotny will think I’m molesting you.”
“Speaking of which….”
“Molesting you?”
“Smartass. No. Gregor. He drove me here.” I thought of my Lexus, in the shop, leaving me with no available transportation. It wasn’t a big deal, but it was annoying. “I don’t have my car, and I’m going to need a ride home.”
“No problem. I’ll drive you back to your town house.”
“I knew I could count on you.”
“Want to stop and check out my place on the way back?”
It took me a second to realize what he was talking about. “Oh, your condo?”
“Yeah.” There was pride in that one word.
“Quinton!” Mother called from the dining room. “Mark! Dinner is getting cold!”
IX
AFTER dinner, we had coffee in the small parlor at the back of the house.
“Sweetheart, you look so tired.”
“I’ll be fine, Mother. I just need a solid night’s sleep.” And if it was undisturbed by nightmares….
“In that case, I think you’ve had enough coffee, Quinn.” Vincent could be a pain in the ass, but since he was a live pain in the ass, I let him take my cup.
“Pushy so-and-so,” I muttered loudly enough for him to hear me. I didn’t want him to think he could run my life. He grinned and winked at me.
I studied him as he took Mother’s cup as well and walked out of the room, an easy confidence in his stride. There was no trace of the hopeless despair of my nightmare.
But then, I was no longer asleep.
“Sweetheart, I’m serious about you looking tired.” Mother’s words brought me back to the small parlor.
“That seems to be the general consensus. However, I left word at both State and Langley that short of a national emergency, I wasn’t to be called this weekend.” I couldn’t prevent a yawn. “Sorry.”
“Perhaps we should call off our Sunday ride.”
“I’m not an invalid, Mother.”
“No one said you were, Quinn.” Mark was back in the room, and he exchanged glances with my mother. Did they think I needed to be babysat?
I opened my mouth to tell them I was quite capable of taking care of myself, but Mark gave me a look and closed his hand over my arm.
“C’mon, tough guy. I’ll drive you home.”
I would have protested, but I had no ride. “Fine,” I muttered. I refused to be embarrassed by my ill-tempered tone.
I followed him out to the car and let him open the passenger door for me, but when he would have buckled my seatbelt, I slapped his hands away and glared at him. “I’m not a child, Vincent!”
“That’s a damn good thing, baby. What I have in mind for you would get me arrested if you were.”
“Ha ha.”
He leaned down and kissed me, then straightened and shut the door. Once h
e was behind the wheel, I opened my mouth to take him to task for kissing me in front of my mother’s house, where any of her neighbors could have seen.
“No one’s around, baby. Do you think I didn’t check? Now wave good-bye to your mother.” And he grinned and put the car in gear.
X
THE lingering taste of garlic was on my tongue, and I reached for the roll of Pep O Mint Life Savers in my pocket.
“Life Saver, Mark?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.”
After giving him one and taking one for myself, I put the roll away and rested my head on the headrest.
The rhythm of the tires on the pavement was almost hypnotic, and if he talked on the drive home, I was too drowsy to hear. He parked and came around to my side, opening the door for me again.
“Hey.” Still more asleep than awake, I gazed up and down the street. We were in front of his apartment building. “This is your place, not mine!”
“So?”
“You’re a devious bastard, Vincent.”
“Yeah, and you like me that way.”
I did.
“Come on.” We went into the building. My eyes slid shut for just a second. “Sit, baby.”
I blinked and looked around. Somehow he’d gotten me up to his apartment and had me stripped down to my shorts and undershirt and in his bed.
“You can fight with me in the morning. You need to sleep now.”
“I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Oh, yeah? You could have fooled me.”
“You like ’Cesca.”
“Who?”
“The real estate woman. Was she pretty?”
“Oh, her. No.”
He didn’t remember who she was, and he didn’t think she was pretty. That made me feel good. But I didn’t want him to think I was jealous. “Not jealous, y’know.”
“No, I can see that.” There was amusement in his voice. “Quinn, I like you….”
“Like you too.”
“I would never give you a reason to be jealous.”
“Never say never. Just… tell me first.”
“Okay, baby. I would, but I really don’t have room in my life for more than one person.”
“That sounds good. Thought we were going to stop at Aspen Reach.” A yawn caught me unaware. “I’m sorry, babe.”
“It’s okay. What’s the point in showing….”
It was becoming hard to make out his words. “Excuse me?” I blinked and tried to focus on his face.
“Go to sleep, baby.”
The pillow was so soft, and that order was so easy to obey. He settled the covers over my shoulders, and I felt him drop a kiss on my jaw.
The bed dipped, and I knew he had joined me in bed. I sought his warmth, and his arms came around me.
“’S nice,” I mumbled, and I fell back to sleep.
And for once, I didn’t worry about the nightmares.
Blue Champagne
I
QUINN never knew how close he’d come to death. I didn’t need a gun to kill. I was lethal with anything from a paperclip to a doctored cigarette to my bare hands.
Although he and I had been lovers for a number of months—and I’d spent any number of nights at his town house in Alexandria—I was still getting used to having someone sleeping in my bed.
This was a bad night. I’d never known Quinn to be so restless. Usually, when we slept together, he curled in on himself, with me securely wrapped around him, but this night, he tossed and turned and flailed around….
So when a hand lashed out and smashed me in the face, waking me out of a sound sleep, my training kicked in, and I reacted unconsciously. I curled my fingers and stiffened the heel of my hand, ready to crush my adversary’s windpipe… only to realize it was no adversary, no foreign agent, no enemy. It was the man I… respected above all others.
I couldn’t stop the forward momentum of my attack, there was too much power behind it, but I could divert it.
My hand shot past his Adam’s apple harmlessly, and I went with it, flying past him to land on the floor on the right side of the bed, half the bedclothes tangled around me.
“Goddamnit, Mann….” I sat there, rubbing my sore shoulder, and looked up, half expecting him to lean over the edge of the bed and raise a bemused eyebrow at me.
He didn’t—he was still asleep, still tossing restlessly. I untangled myself from the sheet wrapped around my lower body and sat beside him.
“Quinn.”
Hazel eyes opened and stared up into mine, but Quinn wasn’t seeing me. “Non!” His voice was hoarse, filled with pain. “Non! Il ne peut pas être mort! Qu’avez-vous fait?”
Automatically, I translated the words. No! He can’t be dead! What have you done?
His accent was flawless. Of course. His first male lover had been French, and what better way to learn a language than in bed? Although knowing Mann, he was probably pretty damned fluent even before that bozo.
I brushed the hair off his forehead, which was cool and clammy with sweat, then pulled him up against me. “I’m here, Quinn; I’ve got you.”
His body stiffened, but I just held on, absorbing the tremors that rippled through him.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” What nightmare world was he trapped in?
“Mark?” My name whispered past his lips. He stopped struggling and sagged against me.
“You were expecting someone else?”
“No.” His arms came around me, and his fingers dug into my back.
“Good thing. I’d have had to kill him then.”
“I was having another nightmare.” Not a question. “Goddamnit.” But there was defeat in the word.
I lay down—so the fuck what if it wasn’t my side of the bed?—drew him against me, and smoothed my hands over his bare back, thinking back to the first time he’d woken me, shortly before midnight.
“I’m sorry I woke you.” So fucking polite.
“You could always make it up to me.” I stripped off his shorts and undershirt and covered his mouth with mine. As I’d hoped, all the tension left his body. Well, except where I needed him to be tense. I curled my fingers around his cock and squeezed. Like steel wrapped in hot velvet.
I began to make my way down his body, pausing to lick and nip his very sensitive nipples.
“I th… I thought….” He couldn’t prevent a small groan. “… I was supposed to make it up to you.”
“Yeah.”
“It… it seems to me that… that I’m getting the better of this….” He moaned as I nibbled my way around the crown of his cock. “… this bargain….”
“Are you complaining, baby?”
“Why am I the… the only one who’s be… becoming incoherent?”
He was the one who needed to be incoherent.
“It’s my call, right?”
“Oh…. Ye…yes….” He was panting, and his hips shifted as he tried to prevent them from rocking up.
“Then shut up.” I closed my hands around his hips and held him still. He made a soft sound as I took him in my mouth, relaxed my throat, and swallowed him down.
I knew I could make this last, but I wanted him relaxed and able to fall back to sleep, the nightmare completely forgotten. I kept him distracted—tickled his balls, slid a finger into his mouth to tease his tongue, then eased that spit-slicked finger into his ass in search of his prostate, hummed—I had a feeling it was the three in combination that finished him off.
He gave a surprised gasp and poured himself down my throat. As I was licking him clean, he whispered, “Thanks….”
“You’re welcome.” I smoothed back his hair and leaned in to kiss him.
“You… you didn’t come….”
“You can make it up to me later.”
His palm cradled my cheek. “Know… ’m… good for it.”
“Damn straight you are.”
He didn’t answer. His hand dropped to the pillow beside his head, and he slipped back into slum
ber.
“What time is it?”
The digital numbers of my bedside clock were big and red. “Just after four.” Almost an hour since the last nightmare.
“How many times has it been tonight?”
“Beats me.” This made three, but who was counting? How long had it been since he’d had a decent night’s sleep? “Want to talk about it?”
“No!” He sighed and reached over to turn on the bedside lamp, then settled himself in my arms. “It always starts the same,” he began. “I’m in that warehouse in Paris. Gaston and Etienne come to get me. Gaston tells me you’re here, and he describes what you’re going to do to me, rape me until I’m torn and bleeding, then fuck my mouth. In that order.”
“And that’s what has you tossing and turning?” I was stunned by how it hurt that he’d think, even in his dreams, that I’d do that to him.
“Of course not.” He glared at me. “Asshole. It’s what I see when I get to the interrogation room. You’ve been beaten. I can hardly recognize you because of how badly you’ve been beaten. An eye is swollen shut, blood is dripping from a cut on your forehead, your lip….” He touched his fingertips to my mouth. “Your lip is torn. Your arm is shattered, hanging uselessly, the bone gouging through the skin, and your fingers have been broken.”
“Ouch.”
“You bastard!” He hit me. “It wasn’t funny!”
“I know.” I smoothed the hair off his forehead again. “I wasn’t mocking you, Quinn. I’ve—” I bit back my words. I wouldn’t tell him I’d been beaten like that, minus the broken fingers. It had been so long ago that it made no never mind. “I’m sorry. Is that the worst of it?”
“No.”
“So what happens then?” I should have known not to push him, but I hadn’t become a senior special agent by not pushing.
“Richard shoots you between the eyes. The bullet blows out the back of your head.” He turned his face away, and the movement caused his cheek to brush against my arm, leaving behind moisture.
Quinn couldn’t sleep because in his nightmare I was killed? “Oh, baby….”
