He gasped. “Lucy.” He brushed her hair lightly from her face, then tilted his head back.
She stroked him with her tongue and sucked him to the back of her throat. He moaned, and she pushed his jeans and boxers down his buttocks and thighs. She grabbed his firm behind in her hands and gave him pleasure.
One second she was on her knees, and in the next she was hauled up before him. “I don’t want to get off in your mouth. Not this time,” he said, then he kissed her with all the passion he’d been holding back. He crushed her against his bare chest and ate at her mouth even as he fed her kisses that made her want to climb up him. The hair on his chest rasped her nipples, and his engorged penis pressed hard into her belly.
He pulled back, breathing hard as he kicked off his pants and shoes. He yanked off his socks, then bent to take his wallet from the back pocket of his pants. He tossed it on one of the pillows, then he picked her up and tossed her there too.
“What are you doing?” she laughed as she raised onto her elbows. “I thought you were going to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Fuck that.” He climbed on top of her with his knees on the outsides of her thighs and planted his hands on the pillow by her head. “It’s my turn.”
“What are you planning?”
He yanked at her panties and pulled them down her legs. He tossed them away and slid his hand between her thighs. “I’m going to make you scream like a porn star.”
She might have laughed if he hadn’t placed his hot, wet mouth over hers as he stroked between her legs with his fingers. He touched and teased until she felt she would die if he stopped. But she didn’t want to orgasm without him. Not again.
“Stop,” she said, and he rose to his knees and reached for his wallet. He pulled out a Trojan, then tossed the wallet behind him. She pushed his hands aside and took the condom from him.
“I’ll do that.” She pulled it from the wrapper, placed it on the head of his penis, and rolled it down to the base of his thick shaft.
He rested his weight on one forearm as he positioned himself. Then he slid into her, and she gasped at the pleasure that spread though her body. “This,” she said as she sucked air into her lungs, “is the good stuff.”
He withdrew, then with two strong thrusts of his powerful hips, he buried himself deep. “Lucy,” he groaned next to her ear. “You feel so damn good.” He pulled out, then thrust harder. “Hot. I can feel you through the condom. So good.”
Lord, he was talking. How could she get there if she had to concentrate on what he said instead of…That was her last coherent thought before he tilted her hips up and thrust deeper. “Oh my God!” she moaned.
He pulled out and stroked her spot with the plump head of his penis. “Does that feel good?”
She wrapped one leg around his waist. “More,” she panted, giving over to the feelings rushing through her. “Right there.”
“There?”
“Yes.”
He stroked again. “Yes?”
“Don’t stop.”
He chuckled next to her ear. “Stopping at this point isn’t going to happen.”
He placed his hands on the sides of her face and moved within her, rocking against her with a slow, steady rhythm, pacing himself. With his face just above hers, he stared into her eyes as he moved in and out. She got the feeling he was trying to be gentle or controlled or something. But that wasn’t what she wanted.
“Faster,” she managed and moved with him. Matching each thrust of his hips. He picked up the pace, thrusting faster and harder, pushing her closer and closer with each powerful stab. It didn’t take long before he was as mindless as she, both racing toward completion. She got there first, and as intense waves of orgasm rushed across her flesh, she moaned his name. The walls of her body convulsed around his rock-hard erection as he drove into her again and again, taking her with him until he too felt the euphoric tug and overwhelming rush. He swore and groaned deep in his chest. He thrust one last time, then collapsed on top of her. For several long moments he didn’t move. “Quinn?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“Okay?” A deep, raspy laugh rumbled his chest against hers. “That,” he said, catching his breath, “was the best good stuff I think I’ve ever had.”
She removed her leg from around his waist and slid her hands across his shoulders before her arms fell to her sides. She smiled because she couldn’t help it. He was right. It had been the best good stuff.
Quinn raised his weight onto his elbow, and she lowered her gaze, fearing that what she felt in her heart could be seen through her eyes. He kissed her pleased lips and withdrew from her body. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
He left to use the bathroom in his bedroom, and Lucy rose from the bed. She grabbed her blouse and a new pair of panties out of her suitcase and took the opportunity to use the bathroom a few doors down the hall. When she was finished, she buttoned the blouse over her bare breasts and stepped into her pink silky panties. She looked at her refection in the mirror above the sink. The same mirror she’d gazed into the last time she’d been in his house. She saw a woman who looked like she’d just had sex, but beyond the obvious flushed cheeks and messed hair, she saw what she feared would be reflected there. A woman in love. Madly. Totally. Completely in love. She wondered if he’d seen it and she hoped not. The last thing she wanted was for him to know her feelings. He didn’t love her, and she didn’t want to scare him away.
She pushed her hair from her face and lifted her chin to study the red patch of skin on her chin where his stubble had scratched her. He wanted her. She hadn’t been wrong about that. She’d never been wrong about that, but it wasn’t love.
He didn’t love her and that hurt. It hurt like a red-hot clinker next to her heart. He wanted to be with her. He made her laugh and made her dizzy with his touch. He made her forget about the reason she was staying with him, and for today, that was enough. She would worry about tomorrow…well, tomorrow.
When she opened the bathroom door, he was waiting for her, leaning his back against the wall. His chest was bare and he wore his Levi’s low enough on his hips that it was obvious he wasn’t wearing his boxers. An Irish setter sat at his feet, and he held the dog’s collar in one hand.
“This is Millie,” he said.
She was a beautiful dog, with rich auburn hair and bright brown eyes. Her tongue hung out one side of her mouth as she looked up at Lucy. “So you’re the infamous Millie.” Lucy bent at the waist and scratched the top of the dog’s head. “At least Quinn didn’t lie about the color of your hair.”
“I’m afraid if I let her go, she’s going to try and sniff you.” Lucy held her hand in front of the dog’s nose. “That’s not the part she wants to sniff.”
She looked up into Quinn’s face. “Which is the reason I have a cat.”
“Cats don’t fetch sticks or jump in ponds to retrieve birds.”
“Which tells you how smart they are.”
He shook his head. “Come and watch this.” She followed him down the hall, watching the shadows slide over the smooth skin of his back. In the kitchen, he took a dog biscuit out of the cupboard. “Sit, Millie,” he commanded. Once the dog obeyed, he set the biscuit on the end of her nose. “Stay.” Poor Millie stared at the treat, her eyes crossed, until Quinn said, “Okay.” Then she flipped it up into the air and caught it with her mouth.
“A cat can’t do that.”
“If Snookie wanted to, he could.”
He gave her a skeptical look and scratched his dog’s ear. “Your cat probably can’t move that fast.”
He was probably right. “Are you disparaging Mr. Snookums?”
“He’s fat.”
“Husky.”
“Same thing.” Millie stood and walked a tight circle around Lucy, then sniffed her knee. “No. Sit Millie,” Quinn ordered, and the dog instantly obeyed.
Lucy placed her hands on her hips. “Snookie has an eating disorder. I
t’s not his fault.”
Quinn chuckled, threaded his arms around her waist, and pulled her up against his chest. “You’re cute when you get all worked up over that fat bag of fur.”
“Hey-” She might have defended Mr. Snookums’s honor if she hadn’t felt a wet nose on the inside of her thigh. “Wow.” She jumped a little and rose onto her tiptoes. “Your dog just goosed me.”
“I knew it was too good to last.” He dropped his hands and moved to the back door. “Out,” he said.
Millie walked slowly toward Quinn, then gave Lucy one last accusing look over her shoulder. “Won’t she get cold?”
“No.” Quinn shut the door behind his dog. “She has a house in the garage, and there’s a dog door leading into the backyard. She’ll be okay.” The overhead kitchen light poured down his bare shoulders and back as he walked to the refrigerator. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Depends on the offer.” She didn’t think she was up for another carb overload.
He opened the freezer. “I got raspberry sherbet.”
“I could always eat sherbet.”
He pulled a carton from the freezer, then shut the door. “There isn’t much here, so we’ll share.” He grabbed a bowl and a spoon and began to scoop.
There were things Lucy was dying to know about Quinn, beyond his job and how he planned to catch a psycho who was killing men and writing letters to Lucy. Important things like, “Tell me about Amanda.”
He glanced up from the carton. “Why?”
“Just making conversation.” She moved to the kitchen table and leaned her behind into it. “You know, I tell you stuff and you tell me stuff.”
“Amanda was short and had dark hair. Green eyes and big tits…ah, breasts.”
“Naturally,” Lucy said dryly.
He laughed and dumped the last of the sherbet into the bowl. “She had an annoying habit of leaving her long hair all over the place.” He moved toward Lucy and fed her a big bite.
It was cold and kind of tangy and felt good sliding down her throat. “How does a person leave her hair all over the place?”
“Beats the hell out of me.” He took a bite and pulled the spoon from his mouth. “She had this massive amount of hair, and it just fell out all over the damn house.”
A woman with big breasts and massive hair. Lucy hated her on principle. “Have you had a girlfriend since Amanda?”
“No.”
“Hookups?”
“I don’t remember.”
Great. He knew about her past relationships, but he didn’t seem all that willing to talk about his. “Are you going to remember me once I’m gone?” she asked.
He fed her another bite and pulled the spoon from her mouth. “You’re not going anywhere.” He brushed the back of the spoon against her right nipple. It puckered beneath the cold metal.
She looked down. “What are you doing?”
“Getting your nipples to poke the front of your shirt. That’s really sexy.”
She tried not to roll her eyes. “How long have you been thinking about that?” She raised her gaze, but his attention was on the front of her shirt.
“Since you walked out of the bathroom.”
“That’s pervy. This whole time when we were talking about your dog and my cat and your former fiancée?”
“Yeah, it’s called multitasking.” He looked up and shrugged one bare shoulder. “I can talk to you about one thing but be thinking about something totally different.”
“Must be a detective thing.”
He chuckled and stuck his spoon in the middle of the sherbet. “More like a guy thing. We talk about shit you want to talk about, but we’re really just trying to get you in bed. Again.”
“You don’t care about past relationships?”
He pulled out the spoon and set the bowl behind her on the table. “I only care about you.” He slid the pink-covered spoon across the tip of her left breast. “And me. And how I’m going to get you out of those panties.”
She gasped. “You got sherbet on my shirt.”
A purely carnal smile curved his lips. “Isn’t that a shame? I guess I’ll have to clean it off.” He dipped his head and sucked her through her shirt. The mix of cold sherbet and hot mouth scattered tingles across her chest and down her abdomen. She arched her back and ran her fingers through the side of his dark hair as he licked her shirt clean. When he was through, he popped a few buttons and pushed the material aside to suck her bared breast. Without lifting his mouth, he placed his hands on her hips, lifted, and sat her down. Right on the bowl of ice cream. It tipped sideways and raspberry sherbet slipped between her thighs.
“Crap!” She grabbed the bowl and scooped up the sherbet. “That’s cold!”
“Looks like I made another mess. This time on your panties.” He took the bowl from her hands and placed it on the table by her hip. He hooked the leg of a chair with his foot and pulled it forward.
“Put your feet on my shoulders while I clean you up,” he said as he sat and scooted the chair even closer.
She didn’t have to be told twice.
“Umm.” He licked a spot on the inside of her thigh with his wet tongue. “You taste good. Like raspberries and warm skin.” He kissed a path to the edge of her panties. “When I’m finished tasting you right here, I’m going to hit that spot of yours again.”
She leaned back and rested her weight on her hands behind her. “You said something about making me scream like a porn star.”
He smiled and dipped his head. Being a man who could multitask, he managed both.
Chapter 15
Goodtimes: Seeks Bad Boy…
The next morning, Lucy woke to something wet against her cheek. She opened her eyes and gazed into a red furry face and big brown eyes looking back at her. Millie licked her cheek, and Lucy rolled onto her back to get away. “Gross,” she said as she wiped dog spit from her face. She glanced at the empty pillow next to her and sat up, holding the blue-and-white-striped sheet over her bare breasts.
After she and Quinn had had sex on the kitchen table, they’d ordered takeout and watched Cold Case Files. She’d discovered that Quinn loved NYPD Blue reruns, but throughout the show, he’d point to the television and yell, “That would never happen!” or “No one does an interview standing over a corpse.”
After the ten o’clock news, they’d taken a shower. They’d soaped each other up, touched and rubbed and made love against the shower stall. Then they’d climbed into Quinn’s bed and fallen into an exhausted sleep. At least she had. Around 3:00 a.m. he’d awoken her to make love again. He’d been sweet and gentle and her heart had about burst, unable to contain her feelings in such a small place. They’d had sex four times. Four amazing times, made even more amazing because she loved him.
She loved him but didn’t really have much of a clue how he felt about her. Oh, she knew he was attracted to her and that he liked her well enough. She wasn’t sure what that meant-in the long term. Heck, she wasn’t even sure about the short term after it was safe for her to go home again. For him, last night could have been just sex.
In the distance she heard a low and steady thumping and something that sounded a little like a conveyor belt. She glanced around for her clothes and recalled she’d last seen them on the bathroom floor. She slid naked from the bed. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned Millie as she walked to the master bathroom. Her clothes weren’t there, and she wrapped herself in a towel and moved down the hall to the guest room. She traded the towel for her pink terry-cloth robe and followed the thumping sound to a third bedroom set up with a desk, weight equipment, and the object of the noise. Quinn, wearing a pair of loose gray shorts, with an iPod strapped around his arm and headphones plugging his ears, was jogging on a treadmill. His hair clung to the back of his neck, and with each step of his running shoes, the bottom of his shorts flipped up a little.
Lucy moved into the room and sat on a workout bench loaded with black weights resting in the bars at one end
. She crossed one leg over the other and studied his smooth skin, the play of muscles, and the slight indent of his spine. Over the rasp of the treadmill, it sounded like he was talking to himself. She listened closer and smiled.
Good Lord. He was singing. And not well. In fact, it was quite awful. So awful that she couldn’t even begin to recognize the song. Maybe he was singing about falling on something, and when he hit a particularly sour note, Lucy laughed. She couldn’t help it.
The wires to his iPod swung as he looked back over his shoulder. “Christ,” he swore, grasped the hand rails, and put his feet on the sides of the treadmill as it continued without him. He pulled the earphones from his ears. “How long have you been sitting there?”
“Long enough.”
He turned off the treadmill and grabbed the white towel hanging on the rail. He wiped his face and said into his towel, “Well, that sucks.”
She tried not to smile. She really did. “It’s a good thing you’re good-looking.”
He ran the towel over his head, then he hung it around his neck as he moved to stand in front of her. “Are you saying I have a shitty singing voice?”
“Yeah.” Her foot swung back and forth as her eyes took in the hard muscle of his chest. “What were you listening to?”
His gaze lowered from her face to the deep V where her robe had fallen open. “Velvet Revolver. They’re going to play here in a few months.” He looked up into her face. “Wanna go?”
Her foot stopped. “With you?”
“No.” He frowned. “With Millie. Of course with me.”
“Like in a real date?”
He shrugged his bare shoulders. “Yeah. Why not?”
The concert was about three months away, which meant he saw them together three months in the future. Last night hadn’t been just about sex for him. “Sure. When was the last time you were on an actual date?”
He wiped his chest with the towel. “Not counting all the Internet dates, I think it was when Kurt set me up on a blind date about four months ago.”
Sex, Lies, And Online Dating Page 19
