"Come back to bed with me," he said against her ear.
"I want you so much, Mayree, you are perfect."
He wanted to make her want, make her need. It was what she was doing to him. Never had he felt in his heart what he felt for Mayree, and he completely gave up trying to fight the idea he loved her. He kissed her gently, when her lips parted he twisted his tongue around hers, then she was kissing him back.
Taking her hand he led her back to bed, to hell with pushing away the sweet tender feelings he had for her.
He wanted to hold her, make love to her – not fuck her, make love. This was what it was. He loved her.
Kissing her lips, he pushed her back on the bed. He kissed her neck, stroking her thighs with his fingertips.
His mouth sought out her nipple and he sucked it softly as his fingers moved between her thighs, rolling her clit gently. Her hands touched his face. He loved her touching him. He alternated between nipples, until she was squirming against his hand. He kissed his way back up her body, slowly, gently, making his way back to her lips.
"Mayree, do you want me?"
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He loved the greedy look in her eyes when she said yes.
Quinn pushed into her slowly, feeling her stretching, yielding. He watched Mayree's face, her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open. Her face was so flawless.
Her inner muscles gripped him tightly. He pushed down, deeper, making her squirm beneath him. Slowly he started to move in and out of her, with a gentleness he didn't even realize he possessed. He loved her. God, he loved her.
"You feel so good" he sighed. "Like you were made just for me."
His gaze shifted between the utterly fascinating way the rose pink lips of her pussy yielded then clung to his cock, and the blissful look on her face. She touched his body with a curious hand, tracing down the center of his belly, to the base of his cock which was fully inside her.
She moaned so softly beneath him he felt mesmerized for a moment. His eyes closed and he felt the moisture from her against his skin. Never before had he felt this way. He didn't even feel like he wanted her, he felt like he needed her. He did need her.
She began meeting him halfway, arching and writhing beneath him. She whimpered again and she tensed.
"That's right baby, let go for me, just for me. Only for me."
Whether it was his words, or his last deep thrust, he felt her pussy squeezing and pulling at him, her loud cries of pleasure made him feel so much happiness, he only wanted her to forget any pain he had ever caused her.
With Mayree's body squirming beneath him as her orgasm overtook her, he renewed his efforts at making himself come. He had been fighting the urge to let go ever since his cock first entered her, his need was immediate. Strong, powerful thrusts of his shaft sent 124
him over the edge as he came, groaning with pleasure as his cock throbbed. He pressed himself as deeply into her body as he could, the two of them becoming one for a brief, shining moment. Their hands were tightly entwined. He loved her so much his chest ached with the pain of it.
His spent cock softened inside her while her pussy still gripped him tightly. Reluctantly he pulled away from her. He collapsed beside her, exhausted. He pulled her to him and kissed her. He loved her, more than life, more than anything. Jack's angel. She was now his angel.
She snuggled beside him, and he felt an aching stab of regret that this wasn't real, as he held her in his arms. It felt so good to hold her. He'd never met a woman who made him feel like she did. She was his wild goose. He wanted to be mated with her for life. He needed it, it had to be. Without her he wasn't sure how he could stand his life. If she only wanted to stay.
He wanted to go back to work, to earn money to buy her things. To provide for this woman whom he wanted to make his wife, the woman he wanted to have his children.
A family, trick or treating, Easter baskets, Christmas trees ... she made him want all those things he used to think were so stupid.
He could feel her looking at him, but she didn't say anything. Damn her, she hardly ever said anything to him. He always imagined her repeating over and over in her head, "I hate you Quinn," when she looked at him.
He nearly jumped in surprise when she softly spoke.
"Quinn?"
He looked over at her and the serious expression on her face.
"What is it, Mayree?"
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"What are those scars on your arms from?"
He wanted to lie, but he didn't. The old Quinn would have, but whoever she was turning him into couldn't lie to her. "Dope."
Frowning, she touched one of the scars. "What do you mean?"
"I had a pretty bad heroin addiction once."
"Oh," she said. Her tone of voice and face were unreadable. He imagined she was now beginning to understand what a piece of shit he was. A fucking junkie who had fucked her in the ass. Yeah, he was a real class fucking act.
"It was a long time ago," he said defensively. "Back when I first started getting into trouble. I've been clean for a long time. I've done a lot of things to you, given you a lot of reasons not to like me, so don't judge me as a loser because of this one. You have enough other reasons to think I'm worthless."
"I don't think that," she said. "I don't think that at all, Quinn. Besides, you don't do it now. It takes a strong person to overcome an addiction."
If only he could just let her keep thinking that. If only that were the truth. "I wasn't a strong person, Mayree. I got locked up. I had no choice. I was really sick for a long time, my first week in jail I threw up everyday.
Sweating, shaking, feeling like shit. It was bad. That's why I never did it again when I got out, I didn't want to ever have to go through withdrawal again."
"See? You are a strong person. You didn't go back to doing it."
"There's a difference between being strong and having common sense. Of course, I never seemed to have much of that either. I always do things and don't really think about the consequences until after I do them. Like bringing you here. Keeping you here. Doing shit that 126
hurts you." He heard his own voice crack, and he hoped she didn't notice.
"Can I ask you something else?"
He sighed, wondering if she was going to ask him to let her go. He couldn't tell her no now. "You can ask me whatever you want," he replied.
"You don't," she paused for a minute, and he heard her breathe in. "You don't use anything. Don't you have to?"
"What do you mean?"
"Protection," she said, her face flushed with obvious embarrassment.
While unexpected, her question made sense. She was sleeping with a former junkie. "I don't have anything Mayree. I was a fucking junkie a long time ago, but I don't have any diseases. Honestly, I don't."
"That wasn't why I asked," she said. "I could get pregnant."
Quinn smiled, trying to hide that her statement completely stunned him. How convenient it would be if he knocked her up? She was too sweet and nice to hate her baby's daddy. Maybe she'd even love him then. It would be the perfect excuse to go and do something stupid like ask her to marry him.
"That wouldn't be so bad. It wouldn't be bad at all," he said.
He was expecting a look of revulsion, or at the very least shock, but to his surprise she gave him neither.
She regarded him quietly, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"I figure if I get you pregnant you'll be less inclined to try to run away from me, and if you still try you'll be a hell of a lot easier to catch. You wouldn't want to put me in jail then, I hope." Quinn swallowed hard, wanting to tell her he loved her. He couldn't do it. If he said it, she 127
could laugh, she could tell him she hated him. She'd be in control if she knew he loved her.
Mayree was staring back at him. "What would happen then?" she finally asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean what will you do?" she said.
"I suppose I'd have to get a job. A real job. Can't
be a thief my whole life. I should have straightened myself out before, then Jack would still be here. He wouldn't have got shot."
"What happened the night Jack got shot?" Mayree asked suddenly.
"It started the day before. Jack heard me and Randy talking about robbing a store in Weston," Quinn said. He hated even thinking about this, but Mayree deserved an answer to her question.
"He wanted to go. He wanted to be like me. Why he wanted to be like me I'll never know, but he did. He wanted to go in. What the hell? There was only an old couple who ran the place, the last people on earth you'd expect to have a gun, or actually use it." Quinn swallowed, pushing the pain down so he didn't cry.
"It wasn't your fault," Mayree said, she sounded convincing.
"I could have told Jack no," Quinn said. "Fuck, I shouldn't have been planning on robbing anything anyway. I should have called my friend at the machine shop and asked him to help me get my job back. I took a leave of absence after Donna died, and I never went back."
"Do you want to go back now?"
"I do. I just want a normal life, but how normal a life can I lead? What am I going to do, chain you up when I go to work? I've got things so fucked up." Quinn rubbed his temples, feeling a blinding headache coming on.
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"You don't have to chain me up," Mayree said.
"No, I don't. I could just let you go."
"No, I mean you don't have to chain me up. I'm not going to run away from you."
He smiled. For such a sweet girl she was a good little liar. He almost believed her.
"If I get pregnant are you going to keep me chained up?
Aren't you going to take me to the doctor's?" she asked.
He was surprised at how calm and serious she was being about this. Maybe he was wrong, maybe she could care about him. Maybe she already did.
"Would you want me to go to jail then?"
"I don't want you to go to jail now," Mayree said thoughtfully.
Quinn realized no matter what, they just couldn't trust one another. She was worried he would always keep her chained up, and he was worried she'd take off or call the cops. He wished he could change how things were.
Maybe if he took the chain off her at night she would trust him. The problem with that would be he wasn't sure he trusted her.
"Why did you ask me about this anyway? Are you afraid I'll get you pregnant, or are you hoping I do?" he asked.
"I just asked, that's all."
Quinn tried to think how long she had been here. He hadn't thought of it before, but she hadn't had a period while she was here. "When's the last time you had your period?" he asked.
"I, um, I don't know. I can't remember." she replied, the discomfort in her voice was evident. She was lying, he knew it.
Quinn smiled. Maybe he had already caught his wild goose.
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"I never wanted kids. Now, with you I think it would be nice," he said, pausing, wondering if he should tell her the truth. If he could tell her the truth. Admit out loud to her that something in him had changed because of her.
"I never wanted a lot of things until the day after my brother died and I opened that door in the cellar." This was hard. He was opening another door now, and leaving it open was going to cost him. It was going to weaken him, and it would mean that for the first time in this relationship, if that was even what this was, Mayree was going to be the one with the power, the control.
"I have never wanted anything in my life as much as I want you. From the first time I kissed you I knew you were the one. I thought about letting you go. I didn't think you'd ever tell anyone what happened. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't let you go, not because I was afraid of you telling anyone, but because I was afraid of being without you. "
"That's why you didn't let me go?"
"Yes."
"I'm glad you didn't let me go. I don't want to go," her voice was soft, so pretty. God he wanted to believe her.
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CHAPTER 7
Quinn had built a fire in the old wood burning stove, and the house was delightfully warm. Mayree had grown to love this house, and sometimes she even thought about what she would do to make it homier if she really lived here, with Quinn.
He still treated her like she would run away. No matter what she did he would never believe that she really wanted to be here. There was nowhere else in the world but here. He still put the chain around her ankle every night, and she hated it. During the day she felt like she was actually a part of his life, but every night she was reminded he didn't trust her.
After dinner she washed the dishes while Quinn watched television in the living room. The door to the outside world was only about six feet away. Most likely any normal woman in her situation would be running for it right now, not hurrying through doing dishes so they could go and sit with the man who had taken them. It was wrong. She was wrong for wanting this, for needing this, for loving him, but it didn't matter anymore.
Mayree spent most of the day thinking about what would happen if she were pregnant. Maybe then he would trust her. Should he trust her? She'd laid in his bed beside him last night and lied to him. She knew very well when the last time she had her period was, and she knew she was now over two weeks late. She had brought it up last night because she was going to tell Quinn, but then she just couldn't. She wondered what he would be like with children. Despite his rough, gruff exterior she sensed he would be loving and kind.
She hurriedly rinsed the last plate. She was done.
Now, she could go and sit with Quinn.
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Quinn. Every detail of his handsome face was recorded in her mind. She could close her eyes and envision every detail of his handsome face. She knew every facial expression he had for every emotion he felt, except one.
Love. If he only loved her ... if he only felt one-quarter for her what she felt for him. Well, if wishes and if's were money, Mayree would be a millionaire. She'd lived her whole life existing on if's and wishes. If she'd only been thinner ... if she'd only been prettier.
Maybe he did love her. She had given every part of herself to him, did anything he asked, and he'd never said those words to her. Looking back, she knew she'd loved him right from the start. Trying to deny it had only made things difficult for her. When she had given in to her feelings for him things had changed for her. She no longer felt embarrassed about how she reacted to his touch, to the sensations he gave her. The pleasures were sinfully delightful. He controlled her, knew exactly what she needed. She needed him. When his face completely relaxed with ecstasy it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The feeling of being beneath him was one she could not get enough of.
She stood quietly in the doorway, touching the gold geese necklace he had bought for her. It was made for a man to give to his wife, there was a card in the box about geese mating for life. It was made to be a symbolic token of undying love. She was certain the only reason he bought it was because he knew she liked the geese. She wasn't sure what he felt about her, other than he enjoyed having her, using her. She clung to the hope he wanted her for more than just sex. He had even said he wanted to have kids with her. That wasn't just sex. As handsome as he was surely he could get sex from most any woman he wanted, to think that he actually chose her made her feel special.
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Sometimes, for a few fleeting moments, when she looked in the mirror as she fixed her hair, the woman there was not her anymore, she was someone else. She was Quinn's. She was beautiful. The mother of his children, his wife, and the one person he turned to when he needed to confide in someone. It was something almost surreal, and she would hurry and push it away.
He may care for her in some way, but she wasn't beautiful, and she never would be.
He caught her staring at him and smiled. She looked at the warm sparkle in his eyes remembering how hard she'd once thought they were. It was an act, that hard exterior. Somewhere inside of it was a soft heart, a heart she wanted. She wanted so b
adly to tell him she loved him.
"You going to come and sit with me?" he asked.
Mayree approached him timidly. She wanted to touch him. For all the intimacy they had shared she had never been the one who initiated it. Quinn was almost always dominant and demanding, and while she liked it, she was almost afraid to say what she wanted too.
Kneeling on the floor by the sofa, she looked up at him.
"Quinn, can I touch you?"
He blinked and looked at her in surprise. "Of course, why couldn't you?"
"I just... I just want to touch you. I want to … feel you in my mouth. I just... Can I do it the way I want to? I mean will you let me, without grabbing my head?"
He put his hand against his forehead, his fingers so tight against his head they were turning white.
Mayree was afraid he was angry, until he moved his hand away, and touched her face softly. "Honey, I know I've been such a bastard to you."
"I just want to please you Quinn," Mayree said honestly. "I just never ... I mean I've hardly ever touched 133
you." She wanted him to love her, would he give her that if she asked? She doubted it, and yet she would cling to any hope it might it happen. She loved him so much.
She felt pathetic.
She watched from a kneeling position as he boldly undressed in front of her, then sat back down on the sofa. Quinn smiled assuringly at her. "Do whatever you want to me, Mayree."
Dark curls of hair sparsely dotted his cinnamon chest, trailing down over his flat rippling stomach. His body was so beautiful, and he was so unashamed of being naked before her. Of course he wasn't, because he was perfect. Why he ever said she was beautiful was still beyond her. When he wanted her and she could see it in his eyes and in his reactions, she was a goddess then.
She moved closer, her eyes focused intently on the long thick length of him resting against his heavily muscled thigh.
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