“The sergeant isn’t going to like this. Maybe you can figure something else out in the morning.” They talked about the advantage of placing undercover cops in her house with her, but the more Quinn thought about it, the more he didn’t like the idea of two men living with Lucy. Before making detective, Quinn had worked undercover security a few times, and it had worked out one of two ways. Either he’d wanted to kill the witness or he’d come to like the witness very much. He didn’t have to wonder how a couple of young cops would feel about Lucy.
He hung up the phone as he pulled into his mother’s driveway. He knew Kurt was right, but he was going to keep Lucy with him. He was a grown man. He’d been a cop for sixteen years and had learned a thing or two about control. He could control himself around Lucy. He could keep his hands off her. No problem.
He loaded Millie into the back of his Jeep and left his mother’s before she could ask too many prying questions. He had one stop to make before he headed home.
Morris Hill Cemetery sat just above Julia Davis and Katheryn Albertson parks. Ancient trees shaded the crypts and towering head-stones in the older sections of the cemetery. Quinn drove through the iron gates and wove around narrow roads until he pulled to a stop in front of a simple white headstone. He placed the roses beneath Merry’s name and shoved his sunglasses over his eyes. The memory of her face in life was beginning to fade, adding to his guilt over her death. He brushed twigs for the white stone and stayed by the grave until he had a picture of her in his mind. She deserved at least that much from him. Then he got in his car and drove from the girl he’d failed to save toward the woman he intended to keep safe, or die trying.
He found Lucy asleep on top of her bed. She was curled on her side, facing the doorway, and sunlight poured through the slats of the blinds, across her face and blonde hair. One of her hands lay palm up by her nose, while her other arm fell across her stomach. Her feet were bare, and a bar of light fell across her red toenails.
Millie shoved her head between Quinn and the door frame, and he grabbed her collar before she could enter the room. Together they watched Lucy sleep, watched the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in air past her slightly parted lips.
“What do you think about having another female in the house?” he asked his dog.
Millie let out a loud whine, as if she had a few complaints, and tugged at her collar. Quinn knew what Millie wanted. She could probably smell Lucy’s cat on her clothes, and she was dying to investigate. Quinn figured the last thing Lucy needed was to be woken from a sound sleep by an excitable dog. “You can meet her tomorrow,” he promised as he pulled Millie from the doorway and continued down the hall to his bedroom. She protested with more whining when he shut her inside. “Knock it off,” he ordered, then moved to the linen closet and took out an extra blanket. Several hardwood boards protested beneath Quinn’s feet as he walked into the guest room. He covered Lucy’s legs with the blanket, and when he pulled it over her hips, she gasped and grabbed his arm. She sat straight up and about stopped his heart.
“Jesus H. Macy. It’s okay, Lucy. It’s me.”
“Quinn?” Strips of light slid across her mouth and cheeks. Her wide eyes stared into his.
“Yes.”
“What are you doing?”
Her hair rested on her shoulders and he could see her rapid pulse beating on the side of her throat. Beneath the white fabric of her shirt, her breasts rose and fell and pushed against the thin material with each breath. “You’d fallen asleep while I was gone, and I was just covering you up.”
“Oh.” She let go of his wrist and pushed her hair behind her ears. “What time is it?”
He glanced at his watch. “A little after five.”
A frown wrinkled her brow. “You were gone quite a while.”
“I had something important I had to do.”
“With the Breathless case?”
He shook his head. “After I picked up Millie, I had to run some flowers to the cemetery.”
“Who died?”
“Just a girl.” He rested his weight on one foot and crossed his arms over his chest. Lucy looked up at him, waiting. “She was a confidential informant and she got killed because she was working with me.”
Lucy rose to her knees on the bed, and the bars of sunlight spilled across her shoulder and throat. “I’m sorry. Did you catch the killer?”
“Yeah. He’s doing life.”
“And you take flowers to her grave.” She shook her head. “That’s sweet.”
“No, it’s not.” He lowered his gaze to the front of her white blouse. With each breath she took, the stripes of light slid across her breasts. No, he was not a sweet guy, but he could be an honorable guy. Even if it killed him. “If I don’t do it, no one else will,” he explained and raised his gaze to hers. “I do it because I have a guilty conscience. Because I didn’t do my job and a girl got killed. She was a druggie and a whore, but she was a pretty nice person too. When she got killed all I could think about was how it impacted my case. All I cared about was my job.”
Lucy sat back on her heels. “Is that why I’m here? So you make sure I’m safe enough to keep getting those letters to you?”
He should lie and tell her yes. That he didn’t care about her at all. He’d been lying to her since the first day he’d contacted her online, and perhaps that’s why he couldn’t lie to her now. “I want to keep you safe, but that’s not the only reason you’re here. In fact, I’m sure I’m going to get reamed when my sergeant finds out.”
“Then why?”
He was saved from answering by a loud thumping down the hall.
“What’s that?”
Quinn glanced toward the door, then back down into Lucy’s face. “Millie throwing herself against my bedroom door. She knows you’re here, and she’s not used to having women in the house.”
Lucy tilted her head back a little, and a thin shadow slid from her nose to her mouth. “How many women have there been?”
“Here? Besides my sister and all my nieces? Only one, but Amanda left when Millie was a puppy, so I doubt she remembers her.”
“Who’s Amanda?”
He dropped his hands to his sides. “She was the woman I planned to marry.”
“What happened?”
He shrugged. “She decided she liked my best friend more than she liked me.”
Lucy winced. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. I found them in bed together.”
“I’ve dated cheaters, but at least I never had to see it with my own eyes. What a bitch. That must have been horrible.”
In that moment, he could have hauled her up and planted one on her mouth. But he’d told her he’d keep his hands and all body parts to himself. He was a man of his word, and he planned to keep it, even if it meant that walking around in a constant state of arousal just might do him in. At the very least it would take years off his life. “It was. Especially when she sat there naked in my bed and blamed me for her cheating.”
“Wow, that’s ballsy.” Lucy smiled. A slight curve of her mouth that went straight to his groin. He should leave. Just back away toward the door.
“I guess that’s one way of putting it.” Back away from the blonde sitting on his bed, looking all tousled and warm from sleep. “She had a point, though. Sometimes I have to work very long hours.”
Lucy shook her head, and the light slid across her lips. “That’s crap, Quinn. We all have to work long hours sometimes. It’s not an excuse for infidelity.”
Again he fought the urge to grab her up and kiss her beautiful mouth.
“I’ve had boyfriends who were cheaters,” she continued perilously. “And they always tried to pin the blame on me, but it wasn’t my fault.” She placed a finger between her breasts and pointed to herself. “I gave them lots of sex. Good sex. They were just losers. And I’ve always figured that it’s best that you find something like that out before you marry a person. Or the next thing you know, you’ve got three kids while yo
ur husband is out picking up skanks in bars. Bringing home God knows what disease.”
Quinn swallowed. Hard. “Lots?”
Her hand fell to her lap. “What?”
“Lots of good sex?”
“Well, not with a lot of different people. I haven’t had all that many boyfriends, but when I do…yeah.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Or what’s the point?”
He had to leave. Do the honorable thing like he intended. Just get the hell out of the room while he could still manage to walk.
“I’ve always figured that if I’m going to bother getting naked with someone, I’m going to have a good time.”
He swallowed-hard. A picture flashed through his mind of her up against the wall, his mouth on her breast. “Jesus H.,” he forced from his suddenly raspy throat. Keeping his hand and all body parts to himself was the toughest thing he’d ever done.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re torturing me.”
For several heartbeats he watched her mouth, then slowly a smile tilted the corners, as if she hadn’t realized until that moment what he was talking about. “Do you want me to stop, Quinn?”
“Hell no,” he said just above a whisper. He was a masochist. “I want you to tell me how you give good sex.”
Chapter 14
Goodstuff: Seeks Man of Dishonor…
Lucy had let her guard down, and Quinn had snuck past. Her only excuse was that she was tired. Tired of being frightened and hurt. Too tired to fight her feelings for him anymore.
She gazed into Quinn’s eyes and the dark lust staring back at her, pulling her in with the promise of hot sin. Even if she couldn’t see it in his eyes, she could hear and feel it in the velvet timbre of his voice. It brushed across her skin, a warm and sensual caress that she hadn’t recognized until it was too late. It curled and warmed the pit of her stomach and heated her up from the inside out. “Good sex always starts with a man who knows what he’s doing. Who’s as interested in pleasing me as himself. Who knows the right spot to hit, and keeps hitting it all night long.” She pushed her hair behind her ears. “Now you have to answer one of my questions.”
“Shoot.”
Before things went any further, she had to know. “Was I just your job?”
“Sometimes.” She frowned in response, and his soft laughter filled the space between them. “I think if you knew how hard you made my job, you wouldn’t be frowning at me right now. The first night I met you in Starbucks, I thought you were beautiful and smart, and I kept forgetting that I wasn’t there just to wonder what it would be like to kiss you.”
“You’re kidding?” She hadn’t known that. Hadn’t even suspected.
“No. Then I did kiss you, and I wondered what it would be like to kiss you all over. Working my way from your forehead to the tips of your toes. Stopping at all the interesting bits and soft parts in between.”
Her stomach got squishy and her mouth got a little dry. “But you thought I might kill you.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, you’d think that might make a difference, but it didn’t. Even when we were pretty sure you were the killer, I still wanted you, Lucy. There came a point where I figured dying inside you just might be worth it.” His dark gaze burned her alive, yet he didn’t reach out. Instead he took a few steps back, away from her.
No man had ever thought she was worth risking death for. Beyond all rationale and reason, she loved him more than she could recall loving a man. Her insides got hotter and itchy, and she moved from the bed and walked toward him. She raised her hand to the side of his face, and he turned his head and kissed her palm, spreading those little tingles he always made her feel up her arm and across her chest.
He closed his eyes and took another step back. “I wanted you more than I can ever remember wanting anything in my life.” Her hand fell to her side, and he opened his eyes and looked at her. “I still do.”
She knew that feeling. “Then why are you moving away from me?”
“I told you that I wouldn’t touch you with any of my body parts. I spent last week lying to you, and you were hurt. That was my job. This is my life, and I want you to know that I can keep my word.”
Now? He was worried about that now? “That’s very honorable.” She bit the side of her lip to keep from smiling.
“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, sounding mildly amused.
She took a step toward him and slid her palm to the side of his neck. “I’m just wondering if I’m allowed to touch your body parts.”
“Hell yes.”
“You won’t think I can’t keep my word?”
“No.” He shook his head, and his jaw brushed her thumb. “Touch any part you want. I have a few ideas of where you can start.”
She raised onto the balls of her bare feet and brushed her lips across his jaw. “I have a few places in mind already, but I’ll let you know if I need your suggestions.” The scent of him filled her head and heart, and she opened her mouth and kissed the side of his throat. She heard the harsh intake of his breath next to her ear. She ran her hand across his shoulder and down his chest to feel his heart. It pounded beneath her touch, and she raised her face to his and gave him a teasing kiss that left his mouth chasing hers until he could take no more and raised a hand to the back of her head to hold her against his mouth. Then he dove in and gave her a hot, wet kiss that made her insides tumble.
She pulled back. “Quinn. You’re touching me.”
“What?” He took a shuttering breath and pulled her toward him, wanting more.
“You’re not supposed to touch me,” she said against his mouth as she gathered his shirt in her hands. She yanked it from the waistband of his jeans and pushed it up his chest. “I wouldn’t want you to compromise your honor.”
“Sunshine, I lost that battle at sixteen.”
“That sounds like bragging.” Lucy pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it behind her on the floor.
“Just stating a fact.”
She lowered her heels to the ground and slid her hands over his chest, combing her fingers through the short fine hair, feeling his hard muscles beneath her palms. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-six.”
“So, you’ve had twenty years of practice.”
“More if you count the years I practiced alone.”
She laughed as she kissed his neck and lightly bit his shoulder. “I’m thirty-four.”
“I know how old you are,” he said just above a whisper. “I know all about you.” Beneath her hands he remained perfectly still, but his breathing was harsh, ragged with the effort.
She wanted to know all about him, too, and seeing him naked seemed like a good place to start. The night they’d ripped at each other’s clothes, she hadn’t gotten a good look at him. She looked now. She took a step back and started with his shoes. She raised her gaze to the long legs of his worn Levi’s; her attention got stuck on the serious bulge in his crotch, and she forced her gaze upward to the slight curve of his waist and the happy trail that rose from the button fly and circled his navel. His stomach was as flat as a washboard, and short, dark curls covered the hard, defined muscles of his chest. She looked up past his wide shoulders and the thick column of his neck to his face. His five o’clock shadow had arrived right on time, and dark stubble covered his jaw and outlined his mouth.
Even if he didn’t touch her, his eyes told her how much he wanted her. His gaze burned with his need, touching her all over. She lifted a hand to the front of her blouse, and her eyes locked with his. Slowly she unbuttoned it and let it slide from her shoulders and fall to the floor. His gaze followed her hands to the snap of her jeans. She popped the snap, then lowered the zipper tooth by tooth. Quinn’s gaze turned so hot, she was surprised her pants didn’t catch fire as she slid them down her legs. Her panties slipped down on one side, and she pulled them up as she kicked her pants aside.
His hands curled into fists. “You’re killing me.”
The frustration in his eyes told
her just how much he was fighting the urge to grab her and toss her on the bed. “Don’t die yet.” She lifted her hands to the center of her bra and unhooked it. “We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff,” she said as she held the cups in place with her palms.
“I don’t know if I’ll make it to the good stuff.”
She smiled and dropped her hands. She pushed the white straps down her shoulders and arms, and the bra joined her shirt on the floor.
He made a sound in the back of his throat. “You have great breasts. I could look at you all day. Every day and never get tired of the view.” He reached for her. “Come here, Lucy.”
She shook her head. “You promised to keep your hands to yourself.”
He looked at her through all that lust smoldering in his eyes and returned his hand to his side. “For now.”
She moved around behind him and pressed herself against the smooth planes and hard muscles of his back. The soft fabric of his jeans brushed against her belly, while his skin warmed her naked breasts and tightened her nipples. She lay her cheek against the back of his shoulder and slid her hands around his smooth sides to his abdomen and the hair that grew in the very center. She slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans and kissed the back of his neck. He shuddered as she slipped her hand between his jeans and boxer shorts. “What’s this?” she asked as she caressed his erection.
He tried to speak, but all he managed was a deep groan.
She moved around to his front and pulled on the five buttons of his Levi’s. With the fly open, she took him from his pants and slid her hand up and down the long, hot length of his shaft. With her thumb, she spread the clear moisture she found within the deep cleft across the engorged head of his penis. She lifted her face and kissed him until he pulled back far enough to say against her mouth, “Be careful. That’s loaded.”
“Is that cop humor?”
“No. It’s a warning. I might go off in your hand.”
“We can’t have things going off in my hand,” she said and slid to her knee before him. She looked up at him as she parted her lips and took him into her mouth.
Sex, Lies, And Online Dating Page 18
