Black Sheep Bounty Hunter

by Jackie Ashenden

  You wouldn’t. It’s his touch you want. Only him.

  Some part of her knew that was true. Recognized it deep inside. And he was making it more true with every slide of his fingers inside her, every whisper of his breath against her skin. With the pressure of his hot, green gaze watching her. Him. Only him.

  There had been many things taken from her over the years. Her passion. Her pleasure. Her trust in other people. But here was Quinn Redmond, and he was giving at least some of them back.

  Tears pricked behind her closed lids and her chest ached, but she didn’t want to feel that, not when there was pleasure to be had, so she ignored the emotion, concentrating instead on Quinn’s hot mouth as it brushed over her collar bones and the slide of his fingers in her sex.

  God, he knew how to touch a woman. How hard and how soft. Giving her pressure and heat and friction, and the slight brushes with pain that somehow seemed to make everything sharper and more intense.

  “Lily.” His rough voice was like a shock. “I want you to ask for it.”

  She’d never asked before. There had never seemed much point, not when her own hand could do it for her and with ten thousand times less hassle. But now, as he’d said, he was here.

  “Your mouth,” she said thickly. “I want your mouth.”

  “Where do you want it?” His breath ghosted over her skin, at her throat, his fingers sliding into her, making her shudder as pleasure licked up her spine. She angled her hips so he could fill her more completely, though, of course his fingers were never going to fill her as completely as his cock would.

  Or his tongue.

  “On my pussy.” She shuddered again as his thumb slid over her clit. “Eat me out, Quinn. Please…”

  He made a rough sound of approval that made the heat inside her climb even higher. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  The bed shifted beneath her as he moved, his mouth leaving her skin, his fingers sliding out of her.

  Then his rough voice came again. “Open your eyes.”

  Lily forced them open, meeting his hot gaze. He was kneeling on the bed in front of her, wide shoulders, sculpted torso, lean hips, hard cock, and powerful thighs. A man to take any woman’s breath clean away. And the look in his eyes as he stared at her was fierce and hungry. Like a big jungle cat, a jaguar ready to pounce on his prey.

  He lifted his hand, his fingers slick with her arousal, and then still watching her, began to lick each finger as if he was finishing off the most delicious meal.

  The need inside her intensified. She couldn’t stop looking at him, at the way his tongue curled around his middle finger, at the heat in his eyes as he continued to stare at her, his intent very clear.

  It was scorching. She was going to go up in flames.

  He put his hands on her thighs and forced them wide apart, before settling himself down on the bed. Then he slid his fingers higher up, his thumbs curling inward, brushing over the soft folds of her sex.

  The touch was insanely light, making her shiver helplessly.

  “Well, what do we have here?” His breath on her skin seared her, his gaze dropping between her legs. “Is this pretty little pussy for me?” He slicked his thumb over her flesh, rubbing gently, the touch electric. “Oh yeah, I think it is. All hot and wet, and all for me.”

  She couldn’t speak, her whole body trembling, because once his mouth touched her, that would be it. She would be gone. And she craved it like she craved her next breath.

  “Hmmm.” Quinn’s deep voice was full of male approval. “You smell fucking amazing. And I bet you taste even better.”

  She stiffened as his thumbs eased apart the folds of her pussy, the trembling getting worse. “Q-Quinn…” She didn’t know why she said his name, whether for him to stop or keep going. Either way she was probably break into a thousand tiny pieces.

  “It’s all right, baby.” His mouth brushed her inner thigh, his lips soft and hot on her skin, the words a rumble she felt inside her own chest. “You know I’ll keep you safe.”

  And there was a moment when for a brief, shining second, she knew absolutely that if anyone could keep her safe it would be Quinn, before all her thinking processes shattered as his tongue licked straight up the center of her pussy, making every nerve-ending she had explode with sensation.

  She was a tree struck by lightning, electrified inside and out, her whole body going rigid with the force of the pleasure coursing through her.

  His name came out on a cry, her head going back against the headboard behind her, her hips bucking against his mouth. But his hands were hard on her, holding her down on the bed and his tongue was pushing deep inside her, and the orgasm barreled down on her like a freight train.

  She screamed as it hit, her body arching, her fingers digging into the edges of the headboard she was still clutching. But Quinn didn’t stop. He kept on exploring her, holding her open with his thumbs so he could taste every inch of her, teasing her clit then nipping gently, and she found herself shaking once again, on the brink of yet another climax.

  Mercifully, at that point, Quinn seemed to reach the end of his own patience, lifting his mouth from her and dragging her down the bed so she was under him. He found another condom in the nightstand and dealt with it in seconds flat, then he rolled and she found herself sitting on top of him, his big, hard body underneath hers, his fingers digging into her hips.

  “Ride me, baby,” he growled at her. “Fucking ride me.”

  It was like being astride a massive motorcycle with the engine purring, all that power at her finger tips. That he was giving her the control, she had no doubt and that he wasn’t a man used to doing that lightly. And she knew it for the gesture that it was, that he was doing this for her. That he cared enough to make this good for her. That she mattered to him in some way.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to examine that knowledge just yet, so she ignored it, putting her palms down on his firm chest and leaning forward on him. Lifting her hips so he could guide his cock to where they both wanted it.

  As he pushed inside her and she sank down on him, there was only the exquisite stretch of her flesh around him and the pressure as he slid deep, and a luxurious, sensual pleasure uncurling through her.

  She gasped, her nails digging into his skin, arching her back and tilting her hips so he could get deeper. And when he made another of those deep, growling noises, she shivered at the way it vibrated through her body and how unbelievably hot the sound of it was.

  The sound of her own power over him and what she could do with that. How she could turn him on, give him the same pleasure he was giving her.

  She looked down into his green eyes, locking gazes as she began to move. His hands guided her, subtly showing her a rhythm that was intensely pleasurable for both of them, and she took it, learned it.

  Then as the pleasure began to climb, she made it her own.

  “Lily.” The sound of her name was rough and dark, not tender like before but demanding and desperate somehow. Grittier. Making her feel not fragile at all, but a motherfucking badass who could have this former SEAL on his back and calling her name the way she’d screamed his.

  She moved faster, harder, rising and falling on him, riding him the way he’d ordered her to. Her skin was getting slick with sweat and so was his and the way they slid together only added to the eroticism.

  His face had got tight, hunger etched in every line, his eyes glittering like emeralds. And yes, there would be bruises on her hips the next morning, but she didn’t care. She didn’t give a fuck. In fact, she wanted them to be there, so she had something tangible to remember this by.

  But he needed something to remember her by, too.

  So she scratched him, her nails leaving long red marks and he snarled, his big body beginning to shake. She loved that, loved that she could affect him like this, so she did it again, slowing down the rhythm, easing up and down, watching him and the pleasure that was turning his green eyes black.

  “Come here, you se
xy little bitch,” he growled finally, his voice almost unrecognizable, and she found herself not on top of him anymore, but underneath, his mouth on hers, stealing first her breath and then her mind as he began to thrust into her, driving her into the mattress.

  She clawed at his shoulders, bit his lip, wanting for some insane reason to send him over the edge before she went herself. But then his hand was between her legs, finding her clit, stroking and then, as he thrust deep, giving her a pinch.

  Lightning sizzled all the way down her spine as the climax hit, and she sobbed his name aloud as the pleasure overwhelmed her, and all she could do after that was hold on tight to his massive shoulders as the storm broke around her.

  He drove deep and hard, chasing his own his climax, until at last he buried his face against her throat and she felt his teeth on her as his body went rigid, a deep rumbling groan of pleasure escaping him.

  For a moment there was only the sound of their panting breaths and then he turned, rolling onto his back and tucking her close against his side, her cheek resting on the hot wall of his chest.

  She wanted to protest but she couldn’t remember why she even wanted to. She couldn’t remember the whys of anything at all. All she knew was that she was warm and sated and had never felt better in her entire life.

  Then his hand rested on her head, stroking her gently. “Sleep,” he murmured into the silence.

  And, magically, she did.

  Quinn couldn’t sleep. Lily was tucked up next to him, nestling in close, her hair silky over his chest and her breath warm on his skin. She’d fallen asleep so quickly and he was glad, because she sure as hell fucking needed it.

  But apparently his cock wasn’t satisfied and wanted more, and it didn’t give a shit whether she needed sleep or not. As far as it was concerned, it had been waiting for months for this woman and now here she was, in his bed and naked, it wanted as much as it could get.

  Fucking thing would have to wait.

  Except he ached and his damn veins felt as if they were full of fire instead of blood and lying here next to her wasn’t going to do anything but make him fucking crazy.

  So eventually he got up, making sure not to wake her as he tucked the sheet in around her, going out into the living area and picking his jeans up from where he’d shucked them earlier and putting them back on.

  It was as he was doing his zipper up that he saw Lily’s phone lying discarded on the floor. Must have fallen out of his pocket. He picked it up, intending to put it on the coffee table where it wouldn’t get stood on, but his finger brushed the screen and it lit up in response.

  There was a text notification on it, just one line.

  He read it and cursed viciously under his breath. So, that’s why she’d woken up. She’d gotten a text from the prick who was blackmailing her, though what she’d been intending to do as he’d caught her creeping past his couch on her way to the door, he had no idea. Knowing her, probably grabbing a gun and maybe going to find the perpetrator herself.

  Except she didn’t know who it was.

  Carefully, he placed the phone down on the coffee table and grabbed his laptop. Then he went downstairs to the kitchen, making himself a strong, black coffee before making his way to the bar, sitting himself in one of the booth seats.

  He didn’t open up the laptop immediately, staring at the seat opposite him instead, cradling the coffee mug in his hands.

  Sleeping with Lily was probably going to end up being a mistake, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when she’d made good on her promise to blow his goddamn mind.

  And it was blown. With her soft, silky little body and her passion she’d blown it utterly.

  Jesus, she was a problem in every way there was. She hooked into something inside him, a place where he was vulnerable and always had been. The need to protect and to care for.

  It was a need he’d thought he’d put aside after Charlie, after Rush had gone to jail and Zane had joined the Army. After Deborah had taken Jack away. Then, he’d enlisted and the Navy had taken that need and honed it, controlled it, stripped all the emotion right out of it. So that when he’d come back to Texas after his father had died, he’d thought he was fine, that nothing could fucking touch him.

  Except then his brothers had returned, and he’d discovered he wasn’t so fine after all. That all the emotion, all the guilt and anger he thought he’d gotten rid of in the military was still there and it was still just as fucking strong. But that’s what caring about people did. It woke everything back up again, made everything hurt again.

  So he’d distanced himself. Or at least, he’d tried. But he hadn’t been the only one with scars from his upbringing and from what had gone down with Charlie; his brothers had scars, too.

  At least, though, his brothers had found themselves some happiness.

  Yeah, no thanks to you.

  Quinn’s fingers tightened on the hot porcelain.

  Oh, he was well aware of his own role in his brothers’ lives and it had been less than exemplary. He’d been too busy dealing with Deborah and Jack to notice his father’s shitty treatment of Zane. Then he’d gotten angry and trigger happy when Charlie’s brother hadn’t been the easy skip pick-up they’d thought. Quinn had lost his temper and had fired a warning shot that Charlie had gotten in the way of. And she’d died. His father had wanted to take the fall for it until Rush had gotten in first. Quinn had tried to tell the cops that it hadn’t been Rush, but his brother had been adamant about taking the blame. It had been a last ditch attempt to impress an old man, who certainly hadn’t deserved his son’s sacrifice.

  Neither did you.

  Something dark shifted in his chest. An anger at himself and how he’d failed the people he’d been supposed to look out for. He hadn’t protected his brothers. He hadn’t protected Charlie. And the only thing he’d been able to do for his son was let him go.

  The anger twisted, the sharp edges of it cutting at his heart.

  He’d tried to make amends when he’d returned to Austin by picking up the reins of the family business, but keeping himself so locked down had its own cost. He didn’t have a single fucking thing that was his except Lone Star, certainly no one who belonged to him. His brothers did, at least in amongst the grand fuck-ups and disasters that were the Redmond family dynamics they’d found themselves someone to love, and that gave Quinn some peace.

  Yet he had nothing for himself. And he thought he hadn’t needed anyone — or at least, that’s what he’d been telling himself. But he’d been wrong.

  Lily had given him a taste of what he could have and…fuck, he wanted it.

  Quinn gritted his teeth and took a swallow of the hot, burning liquid. The only problem with that was the fact that Lily wasn’t his. The sex was mindblowing, sure, and he wasn’t so self-sacrificing that he was going to give that up. But he couldn’t have her and he shouldn’t want to, because he didn’t need one more fucking person to add to the list of people he cared about.

  What he needed to do was solve her problem, get rid of this blackmailer, sate their mutual lust as often as possible and then move on.

  And perhaps not sit here like a fucking tool crying into your coffee.

  He swallowed the rest of the liquid, put the cup back down on the table, and shoved all that messy fucking emotion back in the box it had escaped from.

  Okay, next thing he needed to do was to tell Lily that the information about Mason needed to be passed onto her team. She wasn’t going to like that one bit, but everyone was involved now, and they needed all the information they could get. And West, especially, needed to know. And more urgently than ever now there was a time pressure in the form of that text on Lily’s phone.

  In the meantime, he’d do a bit more research into Mason and anyone who might be connected to him. Anyone who’d want get a bit of revenge for his death.

  Quinn continued to sit in front of the laptop for another couple of hours, sipping yet more coffee, conducting fruitless searches and g
etting more and more impatient. Then he texted West to check-in on the second night in Lily’s apartment, only to get an ‘uneventful’ text back.

  Shit, this was turning up nothing but dead ends.

  What he probably needed was to ask her more questions, see if he couldn’t get any more details out of her.

  So, once the morning light streaming through the windows had reached a certain point, he went to the kitchen, made yet another coffee and went slowly back upstairs to his suite.

  Lily was still asleep and he took a moment to look at her, because she made such a beautiful picture. She was lying on her front, her arms spread out like a starfish. The white sheets had fallen down to her waist leaving a lot of white skin bare, her gilt hair spilling down her elegant spine and over the pillows. The scent of sex and Lily filled the room and his cock, the predictable fuck, hardened. He wanted very badly to pull the sheets off her, wake her up with kisses up her back, and maybe a bite at the nape of her neck. Then he’d put his hand there and hold her down as he fucked them both into oblivion.

  But he didn’t.

  Instead Quinn moved soundlessly over to the nightstand and put the coffee down on it. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at her sleeping face. The delicate lines of her features were relaxed, making her seem so achingly young and so very vulnerable.

  She must have been back then. Years ago when she’d met Mason. Young and vulnerable, though probably given her upbringing with her father, a little street-savvy, too. But not enough to know that the man she’d gotten involved with was a bully with a violent temper and no self-control.

  He’d met men like that before. In the Navy, in the houses he’d dragged skips out of. In the police stations he’d been in. Men from all walks of life who thought lashing out and hitting someone was okay. It was so fucking common it made him sick.