Murmur (Pierce Securities Book 5)

by Anne Conley

  Forcing the incident away for the moment, Quinten gently shooed the bird and rose to go shave. It was a bit disconcerting to have the bird’s razor-sharp beak running along his skin that way.

  Still, it was yet another reminder he needed to focus on the case and Valerie’s safety. Not getting into her panties.

  He shaved and did his regular check of the house and perimeter before finding a man next to Valerie in the backyard, stacking boxes and wood outside the shop. Her comfort level told Quinten it was Rudy, her “driver.”

  Sticking out his hand, Quinten greeted the man. He was small, maybe forty years old, with dark hair and kind eyes. Quinten could see why Valerie had hired him. Just on first impressions, the man seemed efficient and trustworthy.

  “I brought the extra stuff you asked for,” he said with a smile. “I wasn’t sure which colors you wanted, so I got some of each. I had no idea there was so much stained glass stuff.” Turning to Valerie, he asked, “What goes out?”

  She motioned to a stack of boxes neatly addressed with the return address of a post office box in town. “Over there. Thanks, Rudy. You’re working on the flowerbeds today?”

  “That was the plan. But I can do something else, if you’d like.”

  “Imogene said something about washing the windows, but if you don’t have time, that can wait.”

  “Let me look through the shed, there might be some spray cleaner. That stuff doesn’t take any time at all. If not, I’ll get it at the store and come back for them next week.”

  “No worries. I’m totally fine with people not being able to see into my house,” Valerie responded with a laugh that Quinten knew was hiding a very real fear.

  Rudy seemed to understand. “After, then. I’ll get them all cleaned up for you when all this is over.” Quinten then knew Imogene and Rudy were all Valerie had in the world. They were her equivalent to family, and he wondered what happened to her parents.

  He’d read about them, the Dunaway family who had supported her through the trial. They still continued to do their philanthropic works around the city, but without Valerie’s face on their pedestal. He wondered if there had been a falling out, or if it was a mutual removal, or what. She obviously had some of their money, or she wouldn’t be living in such luxury and making bird houses for charity. But somehow, something had broken.

  After Rudy had gone outside to work on the flowers, he and Valerie carried the boxes he’d brought into the shop. When he opened his supplies, he was a bit overwhelmed. It was all top-of-the-line materials—automatic glass cutters, grinders, copper foil tape, as well as silver and some that looked suspiciously like gold leaf foil tape, the best soldering gun money could buy, and paints of all kinds.

  “How long does he think I’m going to be here?” Quinten mused as he pulled out a box that easily had hundreds of sheets of ten-inch by ten-inch glass pieces of every imaginable color.

  Valerie laughed at him, a rich, tinkling sound that was like her giggle, but better. “He knows me. He knows I’m going to watch you and want to know all about it, and if I’m lucky, you’ll teach me, and then I’ll have another hobby to keep me busy.”

  Her smile lit up her face. The mask hid most of it, but the smile itself was radiant, and her eyes crinkled and sparkled with warmth that hit him in the gut.

  “I’d be happy to teach you, Valerie.” He sucked in a breath, realizing the kiss last night had changed things. For him, anyway. He felt something tangible now toward her, something that was represented by that one simple interaction. His lips tingled with the memory, and he resisted touching them with his fingertips.

  She looked down at her hands, fiddling with a box of balsa wood pieces. “I’d like that.” She straightened and began unloading the box. “But I want to see what you can do, first. Make me something.” She had a forced strength in her voice, and Quinten smiled at her. When a gasp escaped her lips, he grinned brighter. It seemed he did have an effect on her. Last night had definitely changed things.

  And he liked it.

  “I’d be happy to.” Quinten set about organizing an area near her workspace and once he had it the way he wanted it, he did a walkabout—checking on Rudy and the other guys on the team—and came back with an idea in his head.

  They worked side by side for hours, with Quinten doing periodic checks through her quarters. Her mask continuously slipped, and Valerie continuously adjusted it. She was working on smaller, detailed pieces of her bird houses, making little shutters for the window holes, and the small reciprocating saw she used was difficult to see through the eye holes. Finally, Quinten had enough.

  He’d cut all his pieces and ground the edges smooth and had begun taping them to solder together. But he finally stopped with a sigh.

  “Do you have to wear the mask? Valerie, I’ve seen you. It’s obvious you don’t typically work with it, and you’re liable to hurt yourself because you’re limiting your vision with it on.” He took a step closer, and she stiffened, so he froze, looking at her eyes through the holes of her mask. “You’re fucking stunning. With or without it. Just take it off,” he said quietly, then held his breath.

  She was a bird again, ready to take off in flight at any moment. He longed to yank it off her face and bury his mouth in the softness of her lips, but he relegated that thought to imagination only. Her eyes darted around wildly, and her hands twisted in front of her. She waged an inner war, and Quinten had no idea what was happening inside her head.

  “It’s just us,” he reiterated. “I won’t even tell anybody if you don’t want.” Lowering his voice, he reminded her, “I’ve seen you without it.”

  Her mask today was the purple one, and it went with the lavender swirly patterns in the long dress she wore. Her fingers trembled as she reached for it and slowly peeled it off her face, inch by inch. When she had it off, her eyes were closed as it dropped to the ground.

  Quinten took a step closer, his eyes gazing at her mouth, plump and lush and utterly kissable.

  “Look at me, Valerie.”

  Painfully slowly, she opened her eyes, and they made a tortuous path up his body before landing on his face.

  Quinten tried fisting his hands at his sides. He tried to shove them in his pockets. He tried putting them behind his back. But they wouldn’t mind him. Instead, they traveled to her head, cupping her cheek with one palm and her neck with the other. His thumb traced her bottom lip, and her tongue snaked out to wet it.

  Valerie’s eyes were the greenest of green, like Caribbean pools at the base of waterfalls you saw in magazines. They watered with uncertainty, and Quinten would have done anything to reassure her.

  “Fucking stunning.”

  She let out a wild sob and grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him toward her. So he kissed her. And promptly lost his mind.

  Her lips were so soft and warm, and as soon as they touched, she let out a sobbing cry. Instinctively, Quinten knew she needed him to show her exactly how beautiful she really was.

  He could only imagine her life up until now—only being worthy because of her beauty and then having her perception of that beauty taken away in such a horrific way. So horrific, she felt she deserved to be shut away from the public eye when she was used to being in the public eye at all times.

  So Quinten kissed her for all he was worth. It began with a melding of lips, just tasting her sweetness against his lips. Then he tickled her lips with his tongue and when she opened, he swooped in.

  It was dizzying, the way she tasted—so fucking sweet. He grounded himself by pressing his body against hers, pushing her up against the workbench, but it wasn’t enough.

  He would never get enough.

  He tangled one hand in her blonde locks while the other went around her waist and pressed her fully against him. It was tacky, but he pressed his erection into her hip because he needed her to see somebody wanted her. Desired her. Needed her.

  His lips were wet with her tears, and Quinten wanted her to tell him why she was crying. He n
eeded her honesty—with him as much as herself. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, looking into the depths of her green eyes.

  “Why the tears, Princess?”

  She laughed but sobbed at the same time, and he used his thumb to wipe the track down her face.

  “Because you’re not disgusted.”

  Had someone told her she was disgusting? That right there broke Quinten’s heart, and all thoughts of waiting until this was over evaporated in one lust-hazed instant.

  “Let’s go back to your bed, and I’ll show you just how not disgusting you are.” He kissed her again, and she managed a noise that sounded less sad. Quinten couldn’t take not holding her for the short amount of time it would take to walk back up to the house, so he scooped her up in his arms and carried her.

  He wanted her so badly right now, but it was with a need that terrified him, and Quinten knew if it was unleashed the way he wanted, he would scare Valerie. And that was the last thing he wanted.

  He wanted to do this right. And by God, he would.

  Valerie didn’t know what had come over her, but she loved it. Quinten’s strong arms made her feel so safe and protected as they carried her into the house, but his kisses, good Lord. Those made her feel craved, like she was a delicacy sating Quinten’s craving, his need.

  He needed her.

  That was a powerful feeling, one she hadn’t felt in a long time, and Valerie was going to try to do whatever he wanted to make him keep feeling it. Because she couldn’t stand the thought of Quinten ever looking at someone else the way he’d just looked at her.

  Like she was beautiful.

  When he got through the door to the sunroom, he kicked it shut and turned the deadbolt, heading straight to her bedroom.

  “Rudy’s not coming in here, is he?”

  “Nope. He’ll finish up and go home. I’ll get an email later.”

  “Good.” His lips crashed down on hers once again, and his strength carried her to the bed, where he laid her down gently. Valerie felt the restraint buzzing through his muscles, and a pang of longing hit her. She wanted to see the mighty giant lose control.

  “Quinten,” she breathed through his kisses. “I won’t break.” She wanted him to have his way with her. She suddenly felt like being very dirty, wanton—kinky even, if he was into that. He was such a masculine, visceral specimen of maleness, she couldn’t imagine them just making love missionary style. She wanted him to do the things she’d imagined him doing—things that would surely wreck her for other men forever.

  His hand crept up her leg as his mouth kissed on her neck. He laid beside her, and she curled up into him, not able to get close enough. She wrapped her legs around him and took his ear into her mouth. He shuddered, and a thrill of excitement went through her.

  She was really doing this. With a man who had seen her face and not recoiled. Quinten groaned as he lowered the top of her dress to find her lacy bra. Pulling a nipple into his mouth, the warmth of his breath and roughness of his tongue sent a shot of lust straight to her core, pooling in her panties as his hand kept creeping up and up. He suckled her breast through the lace of her bra, twirling the nipple into a hard peak before biting it softly. She squealed and let out a husky giggle, trying to contain her emotions. She couldn’t help it, though. Her hips pressed into him, desperate to alleviate the pressure and heat building up there.

  “I fucking love that noise,” he murmured as he finally slipped her breast free and laved it with his tongue. His fingers boldy hit the jackpot, and as he stroked her through the silk of her panties, he said, “And I fucking love how wet you are right now.”

  She was. She’d never been this turned on; it was almost embarrassing. But this was Quinten, and God help her, the sound of his voice alone did this to her, much less all the other stuff he did. The way he was talking was so out of character with the gentleman she’d seen. His savage side was coming out, the fighter, the one who played to win.

  He pulled her panties off with one decisive yank and buried his finger inside her. She straightened, pushing against him as he entered and pulled back, entered and pulled back, all the while kissing her breasts.

  “I can’t wait to taste you down there,” he said, and Valerie shuddered with anticipation. Words were gone; she could only moan her approval as he slipped another finger inside her, stretching her. When he curled them, she gasped.

  “Oh God, Quinten…” She grabbed for his wrist, to stop him, but it was too late. He’d found the spot he wanted and started a delicious rubbing, tapping motion on her inner walls, smiling up at her with what could only be described as a devilish smirk. Rubbing and tapping, then he would stop, then start up again. Sensations pummeled her, overwhelming her. Valerie sobbed uncontrollably, but it wasn’t from anything disturbing. He lowered his head to her neck and began sucking and kissing, all the while rubbing and tapping against what could only be her g-spot.

  She came apart with a scream, eyes squeezed shut so tightly she saw bright lights and twinkling stars. Valerie was a shuddering mess, but Quinten wasn’t finished yet.

  “I think your face is beautiful.” He lowered himself down her limp body, stripping her of her dress and bra on the way. When he was between her legs, he sighed happily. “I think this pussy is most beautiful. I won’t lie and tell you I haven’t been dreaming about it.” He blew on the still pulsating organ, and the dichotomy of sensations—his cool breath against her heated flesh—had her arching off the bed.

  Then he licked.

  He started at the base of her folds and licked to the sensitive little nub at the top, where he lingered. “So fucking good, Valerie,” he murmured in a growly voice that was quickly becoming Valerie’s favorite sound. He slipped two fingers in and pressed that spot again while he flicked her clit, taking her to the top of a precipice again.

  “Oh, PLEASE.” She didn’t know what she was begging for. More? Stop the torture? She bucked under him, at the same time grabbing his hair while he nipped and sucked on her, his fingers all the while sending waves of blissful agony across her skin.

  Valerie opened her eyes and looked at him to find him watching her intently, a look of rapt awe on his face. His dark hair framed wide, mahogany-colored eyes that were filled with such lust—for her. She felt his tongue working her while his shoulders shifted with each thrust of his fingers, and she flew over the edge yet again with a strangled cry.

  He wiped his mouth on the inside of her thigh as she looked on, numb, and muscles quickly turning to mush. He was the sexiest man alive. Very slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it down his shoulders, then pulled his undershirt over his head.

  “Do you see what you do to me, Valerie? I’ve been hard since the first time I saw you, since I smelled your fucking perfume.” He cupped his crotch. “This is for you.” His long fingers deftly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down powerful legs. “I think you have a beautiful mind, needing to keep busy, all the books you read, what you do for others.” His eyes stayed on her, intense and powerful, as he slid his boxer briefs down and stroked himself. It was a beautiful erection, smooth and so hard it looked angry and purple. Valerie caught herself licking her lips, unable to contain the moan of delight at seeing it. “Keep looking at me like that and I’m going to make a mess of your bed,” he growled at her, feral eyes gleaming. Grabbing a condom out of his pocket, he rolled it on in one quick movement, clutching it so hard at the base, the tendons in his forearm bulged.

  Valerie wanted to try something. Quinten had been so obsessed with her breasts, licking them and suckling them for ages, it seemed, before moving on to other parts. She watched him carefully as she grabbed them and squeezed them together, feeling a little like a porn star. But judging by his reaction, a sexy porn star.

  Quinten’s gaze turned primal, and he leapt on her, cradling his erection between her thighs. He clamped his mouth over hers, infusing her taste in her mouth. “Later. I’ll fuck those pretty tits later, but right
now I need inside you.” His dirty talk against her lips sent a shockwave through her already sensitized nerve endings.

  Valerie reached down and grabbed his ass cheeks in her hands and squeezed her acceptance, pulling him into her.

  Or trying to, anyway.

  Quinten had to sit back on his heels and lift her pelvis up, feeding himself into her. He squeezed his eyes shut, as inch by torturous inch she stretched to fit around him, groaning through the burn while he hissed.

  The noises in the room alone were so erotic she nearly came again, so that by the time he was fully seated in her, she was almost ready for another climax.

  “Are you okay? Jesus, you’re tight,” he whispered between kisses. She couldn’t speak. Again, words had left her, so she only nodded. “Fuck, I think I just turned seventeen. This isn’t going to last long.” She barked out a laugh at his words, and that apparently made something down there jump because he groaned long and loud into her neck.

  The pressure of him stretching her was intense, and she moved her hips to alleviate something, to rub something, to make it stop or continue, she didn’t know anymore.

  Then he began moving.

  Quinten started slow, kissing her mouth and neck while he eased in and out of her. She felt every ridge and bump, as well as the bulbous mushroom head as it scraped her spot with each thrust. Valerie got warm again, the heat building up in different places this time. Her fingers tingled, goose bumps erupted across her skin, and she writhed—unable to just lie still. Quinten’s hands roamed her body, finally settling on her hips, holding her while he thrust into her, picking up a little speed.

  She started feeling more. And it was overwhelming.

  “Harder,” she breathed. His look when he snapped his gaze up to hers was comical, almost like he didn’t believe her. “I told you, I won’t break.” Grabbing his hair, she tugged him back into a wild kiss that ended with her biting on his bottom lip, sucking it between her teeth.