Tempting and volatile; he’s the hottest thing that never should have happened to me.
It was supposed to be a one-time thing; my one one-night stand. He's the tattooed, bareknuckle fighter with a body built for sin who I found beaten and bloodied in my elevator that night. He's the one I patched up, the one I took care of, and the one I apparently couldn’t say no to when his mouth touched mine…
A one night stand. Just one night, right?
Yeah, wrong, because I just found out my “mysterious stranger” is actually going to be my brother-in-law in half an hour.
Logan f**king Dempsey. The arrogant, panty-melting, rude and crude Marine-turned-billionaire who runs my late father’s company. He’s my new boss. He’s the best man in this wedding. He’s everywhere, and I can’t escape him.
No matter how wrong it might be…
*****
Holy f*ck. Of all the girls in all the world, she has to be the random chick who found me that night and saved my f*cking life?
She looked strangely familiar that night. Now that I know who she is, it’s like original sin staring me in the face.
Good-girl doctor, totally off-limits Quinn Archer is literally the last girl on the whole damn planet a screwed-up guy like me should have anything to do with. I know this, I swear I do.
There’s playing with fire, and then there’s sticking your hand in the flames. If I keep ignoring the rules, we’re both going to get burned. It’s just…
Yeah, f*ck the rules; she’s gonna be mine.
*****
What a fucking week.
I toss back a hefty gulp of the champagne I swiped from the catering tent, wrinkling my face at the fizzy bubbles tickling my nose.
Flats; I definitely should have worn flats, I grumble to myself and hike up my bridesmaids dress with one hand as I stalk my way high-heeled through the rose garden.
Ok, I'm well aware that sneaking off to the greenhouse in the back gardens of my father's estate to slam down stolen champagne probably isn't what I should be doing thirty minutes before my sister's wedding. But with the week I've had, I'm basically categorizing the bubbly in my hand as medicine, and my normally quite sensible sensibilities can go ahead and deal with it.
An "amazing opportunity," my youngest sister Chelsea had called it after hearing about the job offer at our late father's company.
Yeah, well, the real 'amazing opportunity' - the one that I wanted - was the team leader position in the research group I was in back at the hospital; the one I was pretty much "guaranteed" by the Administrative Director.
Of course when that Director is kind of maybe your sort-of boyfriend, and you walk in on him getting blown by some slutty young med student, it's amazing how quickly your guaranteed position turns into her actual position.
And no, that's not a euphemism; he actually gave her the job he'd promised me.
Ok fine, the job at Archer Holdings is a great job, but that doesn't mean that coming to work for my father's company doesn't feel like moving back in with your parents after failing out in the real world. I mean, it's not like being a Doctor by twenty-seven is exactly slacking, but I can't help but feel like a washout coming back to work for "Dad's" company.
I'm taking another swig of champagne as I shove open the door to the greenhouse, and I guess that's the reason I don't realize I'm not alone until he speaks.
"Looks like I'm not the only one that couldn't wait until after the ceremony for the champagne toast."
I actually spit champagne out as I whirl at the uncomfortably familiar man's voice behind me, and when my eye land on him, my jaw about hits the floor under my feet.
No fucking way.
This isn't happening; this seriously can't be happening. It can't be him; there's just no possible way this is real.
But his dark greenish brown eyes lock onto mine as the recognition dawns there, and just the faintest shadow of a grin teases at the corners of his mouth; “You?”
I know the criminally good looking man in the tux standing right in front of me, even though I'm not supposed to. I shouldn't know about the body built for sin underneath that tux; shouldn't know about the tattoos covering his chest and the coiled muscles of his biceps, or those abs carved out of marble. I shouldn't know how the muscles on the side of his hips groove down like pure sex, and I certainly shouldn't be able to exactly picture the thick- well, what I know he's got between his legs.
He's shaved his beard off, and the bruises around his face from the last time - from seeing him slumped in the elevator that night barely a week ago - seemed to be healing. I briefly wonder about the shallow stab wound in his side and how the bruised rib is doing.
And how is it that I know these things I shouldn't? Because one week ago, I saw those bruises; I sewed up that wound.
My one one night stand, the one man I never expected to see again even if I haven't been able to get him out of my head for the last eight days, is standing in a tuxedo, right in front of me, at my sister's wedding.
What the hell is going on here?
My brain is still trying to get my mouth to work and say something to the grinning, criminally good looking man standing in front of me, when the door to greenhouse bangs open.
"There you ar- Oh, hey!"
Hudson, my very soon-to-be-brother-in-law, smiles at me, “Good, looks like you two found each other."
Huh?
"I mean, wow, how long's it been since you guys even last saw each other?"
Warning bells start to sound inside my head, slowly at first and then building louder and louder, until there's an audible ringing in my ears. Hudson opens his mouth again, and the words that tumble out have my heart jumping up into my throat as the floor practically drops out beneath my feet; "Quinn, you know Logan, right?"
Oh God; oh holy fucking shit-balls. No-no-no-no-no...
The words are screaming through my head as I whirl around almost in slow motion to lock eyes on him. I can see the same horrible shock mirrored across his face as his eyes go wide as the recognition dawns on him too.
"You know Logan, right?"
God, do I know 'know' him?
I know how his lips taste. I know how his tongue feels buried between my legs. And I know how his cock feels as he grabs my hips and slides deep inside of me. Yeah, I think it's safe to say I know Logan Dempsey.
Except, I sure didn't know who he was then; not that night.
Of all the men in all the world, it had to be him. The one night stand that never should have happened; and in half an hour my sister is going to marry his brother, which basically means we're family.
I'm barely breathing as his eyes lock in on mine. And it's almost still in slow motion when he grins and sticks a hand out; "Great to see you again, Doc."
Oh, fuck.
Oh fuck me fucking sideways.
You know that dream you have where you go to school with no pants on or some shit? Yeah, well that's what this feels like. Except this isn't a dream and the reality is staring me in the face with wide, accusatory bright blue eyes. The girl from that night barely a week ago; the girl who patched me up and probably saved my ass.
The girl who stayed in my bed afterwords and fell asleep on my chest.
Oh, and the girl who later slid down my cock and rode me like a woman possessed until we were both screaming for air. Fuck, she looked strangely familiar before, but she looks like original sin staring me in the face now.
Quinn Archer; William Archer's daughter. I slept with the daughter of the man who brought me up in the world from nothing, gave me the gilded life out a fucking book, and taught me to be a man.
And I fucked his daughter. Oh, and her sister is basically my future sister-in-law; future as in thirty minutes from now. I'm suddenly horrified at the shit I gave Hudson when I first heard about him and Reagan, William's second daughter. I mean what are the fucking odds?! They're actually too much to even comprehend, and I know odds. I mean of all the girls in all the world, THIS has to be the r
andom chick who found me that night? I can still remember her hands - so firm and so unflinching as she sewed and patched me up. And then her lips; yeah, I can definitely remember those lips. They're the same pouty lips parted in shock and probably the same jolt of fear I'm feeling right now as she stares at me, but damn do I remember how they felt crushed against my own as she moaned into my mouth.
Fuck. This is literally the last girl on the whole fucking planet I should have anything to do with besides a friendly nod or a boring conversation about work at the odd Christmas party.
Protect them. William's words reverberate through my head, filling the deafening silence between my ears. The Old Man's dying words were to make sure his daughters were safe and protected. I'm fairly confident that grabbing Quinn's hips and pulling her back against me as I bury my cock inside of her doesn't count much in that department.
"Wow how longs it been since you guys have seen each other?" Hudson's words cut through the hanging silence, and the cheer in his voice is so amazingly out of place given the situation, even if he doesn't realize it that I cringe; "Probably not since the wake or-"
"Yeah it's been a very long time." Quinn's words are sharp and quick, and her eyes darken as she stares daggers at me.
Yeah, she's pissed. I suddenly realize I'm still staring at her like a complete asshole with my mouth hanging open, and so I force myself to smile. Great, now I'm grinning like a douchebag at a girl who very clearly wants to either drop through a hole in the ground or push me into one; possibly both, and I can't say I really blame her.
"Uh, hey, Quinn." I cough uncomfortably. She's wearing this incredible navy blue bridesmaids dress that brings out the storm in her eyes and shows every single one of her curves and-
- And wow, I'm having thoughts about her wardrobe bringing out the 'storm in her eyes'; what the fuck is wrong with me?
"Hey Logan." She spits out my name like its a bad taste in her mouth before she turns to Hudson and plasters a smile on her face; "Well, I need to go make sure we're all set up with the caterers. You ready for this, big guy?" Hudson grins and all I can think is how envious I am of how cool and collected he is right now. As opposed to, you know, me, who's tongue-tied and sweating bullets. Fuck, isn't that his job today?
Quinn turns back and gives me one last quick and withering glance before she turns on her heeled foot and storms out of the greenhouse.
Well, that went well.
*****
"Quinn, hang on!" The sprawling rose bush and hedge gardens of the Archer estate are a great place to have a wedding, but they're also a great place to lose this girl if she won't slow the fuck down for one Goddamn second.
My mind spins as I stalk after her. OK, so we're two people who slept together, who definitely shouldn't have ever slept together; definitely. But shit, like that's the first time something like that has ever happened between two consenting adults? We're both grown ups here, and so we saw each other naked; big deal, right? I mean, it's funny, right? We're going to just laugh about this, right?
I finally catch up with her and grab her by the arm, but she whirls and shakes loose of my touch. There's a fury on her face as she looks at me with this wild mix of hurt and fierceness, only made more-so by the auburn hair framing her face and the ice-blue of her eyes as she glares at me; "Did you know?!"
Yeah, no, we're definitely not going to be laughing about this.
I've cornered her behind one of the hedge-rows in the back gardens, but the way she whirls towards me has me suddenly feeling like the cornered one. I clear my throat; "What?"
She huffs and crosses her arms across her chest and stares at me with fire in her eyes, and she'd almost look adorable if I wasn't at least half sure she was maybe about to stab me; "Did you know who I was that-" She closes her mouth quickly and looks around before she glares at me again; "that night?" She hisses out.
There's something about her tone that digs under my skin, as if she's accusing me of wronging her honor or some bullshit; as if she wasn't a completely willing participant in everything that happened that night a week before.
...A very willing participant, I might add.
"You mean when we fucked?" I'm crass on purpose, trying to dig into her right back, and I grin when I see that it works as she blushes bright scarlet and rolls her eyes as groans loudly in disgust.
"Yes, Logan, when we-" She shakes her head and looks away again.
"No, Quinn, I didn't."
"No?" She's got that fucking accusatory tone in her voice that's getting under my skin like a splinter.
"No, Jesus, of course not." I say it way too fast and with way too much force.
Her eyes narrow at me; "Well what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"I mean I'd never have done that if I knew it was you."
Oh, yeah, much smoother; asshole.
Quinn clearly has the same opinion of my answer as she snarls at me; "You lost the beard."
"Yeah, I-" She's still frowning at me, but hey, it sounds like at least a half concession towards mutual fault here. I mean shit, it's not like I purposefully showed up beaten to fucking pulp at her apartment that night.
I clear my throat, trying to salvage this in some impossible way; "Your hair looks, uh, different than than before." She looks like she's almost about to concede - almost - but then I of course open my mouth again; "And I mean, you look a lot older now than back at your Dad's wake- " Fuck. I wince as she shakes her head at me and I bring my hand up to push it though my hair; "I'm fucking this up pretty badly aren't I."
"With flying fucking colors, yeah."
I mean it's true; I hadn't seen her since her father's funeral like five fucking years ago. But shit, looking at her now, would I have even said no to a girl like this even if I knew? I mean she's a knockout to begin with, but it doesn't help that while that bridesmaids dress teases at what's beneath, I actually know what she looks like naked. And the thought of her naked is making me harder than it should right now, given the situation. She brings a hand up and pinches the bridge of her nose as she takes a deep breath; like this whole thing is some sort of headache she just has to deal with; "Look, lets just get through this thing."
"And a cheers to the happy couple!" I grin, trying to lighten the mood. She smirks, but then that flush comes back into her cheeks and she shakes her head again.
"Look-" She stabs a finger towards me, still keeping her distance with her back up against the hedge behind her; "Not a word, to anyone about-"
"Quinn, I'm not going to-"
"To anyone, Logan." She almost looks scared, like I'm some dirty little secret that might come tumbling out, and I can't tell if that amuses or pissed me off more.
"Look I fucking get it, ok?"
"Good."
"Fine."
Ah yes, this is progressing just like an adult conversation should.
"Look, I have too much going on up here in my head to even think about this right now, OK?" She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head; "I'm about to stand up with my sister while she gets married and I have an insanely busy first day at a new position tomorrow." Her arms are still crossed over her perfect chest, and she's still glaring at me like I'm some sort of bad guy; "At my Dad's-" She stops and frowns; "At your fucking company, actually."
I'm about to open my mouth when she shakes her head, cutting me off; "You know what, it's like you said; let's just get through this, ok? Cause after this, I don't have to see you, and you don't have to see me until at least Thanksgiving or some other family gathering."
Scorch: A Soldiers of Fortune Romance (Military Bad Boy Romance) Page 19
