Outside the taxi, he turned holding out his hand for her to take then let her lead the way inside the building.
An elderly couple was inside the elevator when Quinn and Gunner embarked, still holding hands, the sexual tension between them leaning toward blazing hot.
“How long have you been married, dear?” the woman asked which made Quinn choke on nothing and Gunner let out an incredulous huff.
Once she’d stopped coughing, Quinn declared, “We’re not married.”
The woman tsked stating, “You’re a beautiful couple. Your babies would be just precious. And their eyes. Oh, my.”
Quinn didn’t know who stood more rigid at that proclamation, she or Gunner, and such as it was, neither made a sound even though his hand was suddenly crushing hers.
Well, this entire scenario wasn’t uncomfortable at all.
Embarrassed, Quinn gave the woman a small smile and just when the doors opened on the twelfth floor and she’d seriously reconsidered this whole thing, Gunner squeezed her hand making her look up at him only to see him wink. Well, thank God he wasn’t taking the lady’s words to heart.
He followed her out and they walked in silence toward her apartment.
This is gonna be so fucking awkward when I open my door, tell him goodnight and he leaves. God.
She rolled her eyes as she put the key in the door then turning, said, “Well, I hope—”
Again his mouth covered hers, not letting her finish. Damn. She was going to have to be much faster in the future if she wanted to get out a full sentence with him.
But that was the last thing on her mind as his tongue invaded her mouth, finding hers and executing a tease that just so happened to mimic their entire non-relationship up to that point.
Backing her into the apartment he closed the door behind them and she next found herself against the wall, her coat and suit jacket suddenly off and thrown onto the chair to the side. Gunner’s hands came up to caress her breasts and she arched her back, breathing a low moan into his mouth. Still kissing her, he slowly skated the backs of his hands down, over her ribcage, skimming her hips and on lower to the hem of her skirt where he started leisurely tugging it up, the deliberate casual pace of it making her suddenly ravenous for him which had her reaching, grabbing, wanting.
God!
Slipping her hands inside his jacket to push it off, she felt something strange and looked up at him in confusion. When he removed his jacket his shoulders shook at seeing her eyes got big because holy moly! he was wearing a holster which held a humongous gun under one of his arms. Yikes!
But, damn, that just made him look even sexier.
Quinn was used to seeing Tilly’s brother Jeff carrying a gun because he was a cop, but seeing Gunner with one was just, well, all kinds of hot. She watched in awe as he took off the holster placing it and the gun on top of her coat on the chair, which inexplicably triggered all kinds of heat inside her and she was back to hurriedly unbuckling his belt, chuckling inwardly because, by God, if anything, she was goddamned goal-oriented.
But all her efforts came to a halt because when she’d made her way up and was working on the buttons of his shirt, he pushed her hands away, dropped to his knees and having gotten her skirt up and around her hips, he groaned when he took in the white lacy thong she wore. His heated eyes rose to hers as he yanked it down her legs and off. Then grabbing her behind her thighs, he ordered, “Back to the wall.” Looking up at her with blazing blue eyes he put first one then her other leg over his shoulders, making her gasp as her hands hit the wall trying to steady herself at being held solely by his hand on her ass. He gave her a wicked smirk and praised, “Such a pretty pussy, baby,” before burying his tongue deep inside making her cry out.
God!
God!
Her head fell back against the wall, eyes closed and mouth open as he kissed, licked, sucked, and, holy shit, it felt so good and she felt her climax building, was almost there, not able to help her legs sliding down to hang over his arms at the elbow because they were quivering so badly, when he abruptly pulled away making her head snap forward to look down at him.
What the hell?
She knew the look on her face was nearing incredulous but she couldn’t help herself as she pleaded, “Don’t fucking stop!” which got her a sexy half-smirk from him.
Gah!
He’d already unhooked his arms from under her knees, letting her feet drop to the floor where she stood on shaky legs as he himself rose. Still smirking, he reached for his jacket on the chair and pulling his wallet from the inside pocket, got a condom out. She was breathing heavily, using the wall to hold herself up as she watched him shift his pants and boxer briefs down his hips then his large hand pulled out his thick, lengthy cock and rolled on the condom which made her eyebrows go up.
Holy cow.
When her eyes met his, he leaned down and murmured in her ear, “Gonna fuck you now, Quinn. You ready?”
Before she could even nod, he picked her up making her legs circle his waist and slammed up inside her so hard her head flew back, her mouth opened and eyes rolling as she cried out.
Dear God.
He began sliding smoothly in and out and murmured throatily, “Is this what you wanted, baby?”
Fuck yes, it was what she wanted. What she’d always imagined it would be. And he felt so good. So big, filling all of her and she never wanted it to stop. But as she felt her body moving toward her climax yet again something ridiculous happened. Her stupid competitive edge in her took hold, the one that had been hurt when he’d turned her down for coffee, and she suddenly blurted out a challenge, “Is this all you’ve got?”
He stopped his movement and she watched as his eyes narrowed then he blinked languidly which felt as if he was sizing her up, trying to figure out her angle. Then one side of his mouth lifted. “You sure you know what you’re asking for?”
Now it was her turn to curl her lip—even though she didn’t know what the fuck she was doing. “Bring it on, baby.”
And holy God. He totally brought it.
His face held amusement for just a moment before it turned serious then he crushed his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss as his thrusts began again, pounding, hard and deep. Pulling back from the kiss, his eyes never leaving hers, he moved his hand between them to where his thumb pressed into her clit causing her to suck in a breath.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice throaty and then his thumb was gone. “No. Don’t… stop…” she panted.
He drove up inside her a few times then his thumb was back, circling, making her legs quake around him.
“Yes,” she whispered feeling that she was right there, just about ready to explode.
Then he removed his thumb again.
Shit!
His thrusts now were calculated, keeping her just on the edge but not quite taking her over. His thumb came back but was gone again and when she begged, “Oh, Gunner, please!” he gave her a provocative grin and it hit her.
He was playing with her! He was actually seeing if she could handle it!
Smug bastard.
Well, she could play this game just as well.
Her foggy brain hoped.
“Bedroom,” she immediately commanded on an exhale, pointing a finger toward her room from an arm thrown over his shoulder.
He grinned but did her bidding, carrying her, buried balls deep inside her, to her bedroom. Once there, he lifted her off him and setting her on the bed, proceeded to help her undress. When she reached for her shoes, he growled, “Those stay on.”
Well, all right then.
Using all the body control she could, she went up on her knees and undid the rest of the buttons she’d missed on his shirt pulling it down off his broad shoulders and watching it fall to the floor. As he reached both hands behind his head to grab the collar of his undershirt and tug it off, she looked on with lust at his chiseled abs and chest, and good fucking yes, a tattoo on his upper arm she couldn’t quite see, bef
ore taking his hard, jutting cock in her hand and stroking it making him groan.
“Lie back, babe,” he stated, his voice now gravelly. She did as she was told and watched while he removed his boots and pants, then stood bare before her, his hard body looking all hot and muscle-y and sculpted. Damn. He put a knee to the bed right before his large body completely covered her smaller one, and leaning down to press his lips to hers he said against them, “Wrap your legs around me.”
And, God, was she going to keep up this power play? Why, yes, yes she was. Ergh.
“No, you turn over, honey,” she answered, pushing at his shoulders for him to do as she asked.
She felt him smile against her lips then saw a twinkle in his eye as he allowed her to push him to his back.
Ugh. She wanted to roll her eyes but she reminded herself it was for her own self-preservation.
Get your guarded thoughts out of the bedroom, dumbass! Remember: You love sex! You can do this!
Eschewing herself of anything other than sexy thinking, she kissed her way down his hard chest over his rippled abs then taking his cock in her hand whispered, “Now I’m gonna bring it, honey,” before sinking slowly down onto him. Keeping her eyes on his, she slid up, losing him for a moment before gliding right back down onto him, her hand moving behind her touching his balls lightly and she heard him let out a throaty groan. His hands slid up and his fingers gripped her thighs hard and she knew she had the power now.
As she moved on him, she moved a hand in to work her clit and felt his fingers clench even more tightly on her thighs as he hissed out a Fuck!
And, God, she liked this. Liked that she was in charge of things. In charge of her…feelings.
But just as she got a good rhythm going, her breaths coming faster as her orgasm built, she was suddenly jerked up under her arms and found herself now straddling his face.
“Fucking gorgeous pussy, baby,” he muttered before giving her a deep kiss which made her slam her hands against the wall to balance herself.
Holy fucking fuck.
He just kept one-upping her.
And she couldn’t say she didn’t like it. Yet still…her heart…
But that was the last thing on her mind when he sucked her in, his fingers pressing inside her, making her breathing turn even faster, harder, and oh, God, it was building, her thighs quaking, and she knew it was going to be big. Huge. Monumental.
And then she was there, and it was huge if her scream was any proof.
Jesus. Fuck!
Gunner made his way out from under her then was behind her and she cried out again as he drove up inside her, her climax still going strong as she clamped down hard on him, pulsing all around his hard length, her fingers going rigid, digging into the wall.
“That’s it, baby. Fucking love that,” he whispered in her ear moving a hand to cup her breast, his thumb and finger rolling her nipple, while his other moved down to splay across her stomach holding her tightly to him as he continued thrusting in deep.
And damn it, she was done. She’d lost the battle. Or had she won. She didn’t really know at this point.
But with his strong body at her back, his hands on her, his cock inside of her, all of him possessing all of her she finally gave in.
And when she felt his body go tense against her back, his hips pistoning hard several times before he buried himself deep inside her with a grunt she knew this was bad.
Oh, yeah. She was a goner all right.
The glint of a damned ray of sun hitting her in the eye woke Quinn and she squinted before flopping onto her other side to get away from it.
That’s when she realized she was alone.
The bed was empty and she listened for any sounds that Gunner was still there but heard nothing. Huh.
He’d left without saying goodbye.
She turned to lay on her back thinking about last night and all that’d happened between them and she came to one conclusion: He was good. Damned good.
After their first time, she’d given into her lethargy and had fallen asleep in his arms, her back to his front only to be awakened a couple hours later by his hand between her legs, his mouth at her ear where he talked dirty to her, taking her over the edge. Then they’d just flat out fucked, seemingly going at it in every position possible, maybe even creating new ones that should be added to the Kama Sutra, which led to her coming so many times, she’d lost count.
Oh, yeah, Gunner Murphy had definitely lived up to the hype she’d created about him in her mind the past year and she tried finding the good in that but couldn’t quite pin it down.
She sighed and looked back at the side where he’d lain and seeing something on the pillow, came up on an elbow to pick up the card he’d left.
Citadel Executive Protection—Security with Integrity
Bodyguards, Surveillance, Bounty Hunting and Private Investigations
Gunner Murphy
Office (917) 555-1212
Cell (917) 555-8897
That was it. No note, no nothing. He was leaving it up to her to contact him.
She tore it in two and tossed it in the small trashcan beside her bed before turning and falling back into a fitful sleep.
Chapter 4
When Gunner walked into CEP that Saturday morning, he immediately went to get a cup of coffee then headed toward his dad’s office, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Abby, the secretary, sat up straighter and gave him a great big smile.
“Good morning, Gunner,” she said cheerfully.
Abby was a bitch, plain and simple. Even though she wasn’t rude to him—for some damned reason—everyone else who worked at CEP said she was snippy as hell to them. All he really knew about her since she’d started working there a little over a year ago was she always greeted him as if he just made her day even though he’d maybe only spoken two words to her. He wasn’t sure what her deal was. If she was crushing on him, fine, whatever, but she was wasting her time because she definitely wasn’t his type. Not that she was hard on the eyes, had this whole Snow White thing going on with her black hair, pale skin and red lips, but she was nothing he’d ever go for.
Red. Red hair was where his mind was these days which made him want to kick himself.
He grunted a good morning giving Abby a head nod—as per usual—to her wide-mouthed grin, wondering why the hell she was there on a Saturday as he continued to the office.
As if in answer to his question, she stated while nodding at his coffee cup, “That’s the dark roast that you like. I came in this morning just for you.” At his scrutinizing look she amended, “Oh! And I had to catch up on some paperwork.”
Huh. Had she actually blushed? So the Ice Queen had more than the usual emotion of I’m a bitch and I know it going for her. Gunner would have to let Oz know since he’d hit on her once-upon-a-time before Tilly and had always gotten the cold shoulder, and he couldn’t wait to rub this shit in his face just for the hell of it.
“Thanks,” he mumbled back to her continuing toward the office. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate that she’d got it because it was some damned good coffee; he just didn’t want to encourage her.
When Gunner walked into the office, he saw his dad standing behind his desk on his phone, so he sat in one of the chair’s in front of the desk drinking his coffee. As he listened to his dad speak, he narrowed his eyes at what he was hearing.
A little over a year before, Oz had brought in Billy Parker, a key witness against Stefan Moretti, the son of Antonio Moretti, reputed Mob boss. Parker had obviously seen some bad shit go down when he’d worked in the Moretti’s family-owned auto body shop, which anyone having the slightest affiliation with law enforcement knew was just a front for the family’s nefarious dealings in drug trafficking, racketeering and a whole slew of other criminal activities. Oz had been chasing Parker, who’d run from an unrelated burglary charge, but after Oz delivered him to the NYPD, Parker had immediately made a deal, going state’s witness against the Morettis, an
d Antonio had lost it, promptly ordering Parker’s head on a platter. Then when he’d found out it was CEP who’d delivered Parker, Moretti had taken it personally and issued the vendetta.
“I don’t give a fuck what Moretti thinks,” Hank grumbled then hearing what the caller said, he spewed, “Don’t fuckin’ tell me that shit! And you wipe it from your own fucking brain ASAP! Jesus Christ!” He now glanced at his son, an incredulous look on his face as he shook his head. “Good. Bury it. As far as any of us are concerned, you now especially, you never talked to Drugov. Got me?” Hank hung up and looked at the ceiling trying to calm himself down. “Fuck!” he bit out as he dropped to his chair and reached for his coffee cup.
“What’s up, Pop?” Gunner asked with a frown.
Hank shook his head as he drank. Then setting his mug down, explained, “Fuckin’ Quaid talked to Drugov who told him where Parker’s being held.”
“How the fuck did Drugov get that information?”
“You know as well as I do these guys always have law enforcement in their back pockets. If Drugov knows, the Morettis know and we don’t need to be associated. I’ll call Brashears at 1PP and let him know word is out.”
“Damn, she’s a bitch,” Oz mumbled as he came into Hank’s office making Gunner chuckle because he knew he was talking about Abby.
“Sweet as pie to me,” Gunner returned with a smirk.
Oz gave him the finger as he sat, stating, “Then you must not be allergic to subzero temperatures.” This made Gunner snort before Oz asked, “So what’s the good news?”
“None for fuckin’ Parker,” Hank offered.
“Why? What’s up?” Oz inquired before taking a drink from his mug.
Hank explained what Chris Quaid, another CEP member, had told him.
“Fuck. If Drugov knows, that means the Morettis know,” Oz drawled, telling them what they already knew. “Guess Parker’s not long for this world then, huh?” Hank raised a shoulder unconcernedly which made Oz chuckle. A moment later he looked over at Gunner and gave him a shit-eating grin. “Heard dinner went well last night.”
Under the Gun (CEP Book 3) Page 3
