by Elle Kennedy
In her bathroom, she took a quick shower, the warm water like heaven against her sore muscles. She got out, slipped into the tank top and cotton boxer shorts she liked to sleep in, then turned off the light and slid under the awful pink bedspread. Sleep. Sleep would make her forget…forget what? Everything, she realized as she shifted around under the covers, attempting to get comfortable. Quinn, her father, her brother, Layla, hell, even Jake and Beth…she just wanted to forget it all.
Only sleep never came. She tossed and turned, alternating between shutting her eyes and staring at the glaring red numbers on the clock by her bed. Just past midnight. Quinn was probably sound asleep, sprawled facedown on the bed in the guest room. His bare back long and smooth, his spectacular lower body covered by a silk sheet, his stubble-covered cheek pressed against the pillow.
Oh, God. She ached for him. Just imagining him lying in bed caused moisture to pool between her legs and made her nipples tighten painfully. She hadn’t been with a man since Quinn. Hadn’t wanted anyone but Quinn.
As if her arms and legs had a mind of their own, Morgan found herself pushing the bedspread aside and stumbling to her feet. The soft pink carpet tied her bare toes, and she knew the hardwood floor in the hall would be cold, but she didn’t pause to find her slippers. Her mind could only register one thing, and that was getting to Quinn.
Even as she stepped out into the dark hall, she realized how futile this was, pushing Quinn for an affair that would go nowhere. It was like getting friendly with the other passengers on the Titanic when you knew your fate ahead of time. What was the point? In the end you’d only wind up in the bottom of the Atlantic.
But damn it, she didn’t care if she got wet, didn’t care if she drowned when he left her again. Nobody in her life had ever cared about her the way Quinn did. He respected her, trust ed her, made her feel special and appreciated and loved. Maybe he would take that love away in the morning, but at the moment, she didn’t care. She needed it tonight.
Quinn was wide awake when he heard Morgan enter the guest room. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep, just lay there in bed, staring up the ceiling and asking himself what the hell he was doing here. In Morgan’s huge mansion. In Morgan’s complicated life.
The second the door creaked open, he knew the answer to that question.
He was here for her.
“Are you awake?” she murmured.
“Yeah,” he said thickly.
He slid up into a sitting position. His first impulse was to jump out of bed and get the hell out of there before things got out of hand. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he searched the darkness until his eyes made out her shadowy figure moving across the room. She wore tiny green shorts and a loose gray tank top, her blond hair cascading down her shoulders like waves of silk. Those wavy tresses were tousled, as if she’d just woken up, but her alert blue eyes told him that, like him, she hadn’t gone to sleep.
Her footsteps barely made a sound as she approached the bed. Quinn’s entire mouth turned to cotton. She looked so achingly beautiful that his heart squeezed and his arms prickled with the urge to pull her toward him.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, each word raspy thanks to the parched condition of his mouth.
“You know exactly why I’m here,” she whispered.
And then she was on the bed. The mattress sagged slightly from her weight, then creaked as she climbed on top of him.
His pulse took off in a gallop at the feel of her soft thighs straddling his lower body. He hardened instantly, his erection rising up to press against her warm core.
Morgan gave a soft whimper at the intimate contact, then cleared her throat and said, “Let’s get one thing straight.”
He eyed her wordlessly.
“You lied to me before. You’re not over me, just like I’m not over you.”
“Morgan—”
She reached for the hem of her tank top, but didn’t remove the shirt. “I’m not going to pressure you into a relationship,” she interrupted qui. “I promise I won’t push you. I won’t even ask for more than just this one night.”
She began sliding the tank upward, pausing just before she revealed her breasts, which were bare beneath the cotton material. His gaze landed on her nipples, tight and hard, and a rush of desire swept through his body like a flash flood.
“But I need you to tell me you want me,” she breathed, her voice shaky. “You have to say it.”
Their eyes met, and for a moment he was floored by what he saw on her face. It shone with love and hope and regret, a whirlpool of emotions that both startled and thrilled him. It was rare, seeing Morgan look so vulnerable. It made him want to take her into his arms and never let go.
“Say it,” she pleaded. “Please.”
He swallowed the bittersweet lump lodged in his throat. “I want you, Morgan.”
The admission should have made him feel weak, but the moment he said the words, a feeling of liberation soared inside him. For two years he’d locked up all his memories of this woman, banished her into a tiny dungeon in his heart that he never intended on opening. But it was open now, and all those old feelings flew out. All the old memories. All the passion.
With a groan, he clamped his hands on her slender hips and pulled her toward him. Their mouths came together so quickly, so intensely, that his lips actually trembled. He couldn’t control the kiss, couldn’t stop his tongue from thrusting into her mouth and claiming every inch of her.
She kissed him back with the same urgency, drowning him with her intoxicating taste, her sweet scent, her soft moans. And then she pulled back, her big blue eyes filled with desire and wonder, her breasts heaving as she drew in ragged breaths.
“I missed this,” she confessed.
“Me, too,” he murmured, then sucked in his breath when she lightly ran her fingers over his bare chest.
There was something very endearing about the way she touched him. Her caresses were smooth, skilled, as if she remembered every inch of his body and knew what drove him wild, and yet there was an awkward element to her touch, as if she were rediscovering him, too.
She dragged her palm over his skin, stroking his pecs, teasing his nipples. He let out a husky groan and reached for her, but she pushed his hands away. “Lie back and let me have some fun,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.
Have some fun? More like engage in a serious torture session. Quinn could barely breathe as she brought her lips in to play, lowering her mouth to his chest and licking his collarbone. Her hot tongue slid over one flat nipple, sending a sizzle of arousal to his groin. After several excruciating moments, her tongue drifted south, following the thin line of hair that led to the waistband of his boxers.
“Take your shirt off,” he said roughly.
Smiling faintly, she raised one hand and wagged a finger at him. “No way.” Her smile widened. “I'm not through with you yet.”
Chapter 1
Morgan’s heart did a jumping jack at the arousal smoldering in Quinn’s forest-green eyes. His pulse throbbed in his strong corded neck, a frantic thump-thump that told her he was enjoying her seduction as much as she was. Her gaze swept over his incredible chest, hard and smooth and dusted with light-brown hair.
She scraped her nails against his pecs, eliciting a husky groan from Quinn. His skin was scorching hot to the touch. She felt pretty feverish, too, especially when she glanced lower and spotted the thick erection straining against his boxers.
Licking her lips, she dipped her head again and kissed her way down to his waistband. Her hands hooked under the elastic and slowly peeled the boxers off his muscular legs. His arousal sprang up eagerly and even if the house spontaneously burst into flames, she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from touching him.
She curled her fingers around his shaft, squeezing gently. Quinn let out a moan, and a bead of moisture formed at his tip. With the sound of her pulse drumming out a tribal beat in her ears, she pressed her lips to him,
planting a soft kiss on his engorged head before taking him into her mouth.
Quinn tangled his hand in her hair, guiding her, filling her mouth with his impressive length. She teased for a bit, alternating between soft licks and sharp pumps, until he moved restlessly on the bed, one hand clawing at the silk sheet.
“You’re killing me,” he choked out.
She lifted her head and smiled. The savage hunger on his face did indeed confirm she was killing him, but he’d al so never looked more alive. Handsome features taut, eyes glittering with passion. He’d tried being aloof with her since they’d reunited, tried keeping his emotions hidden, but right now, in this amazing heated moment, everything he felt was written on his face.
She gave him one last kiss before sitting up. Quickly, she removed her tank top, tossed it aside, then shimmied out of her shorts and panties, which also found a place on the floor.
“You’re beautiful,” Quinn muttered, his heavy-lidded gaze moving over her naked body. He lifted one brow. “Is it my turn to have fun now?”
His words rang with sensual promise. Her body responded immediately, growing tense with anticipation.
“I suppose,” she replied with a mock-indifferent shrug.
A crooked grin tugged at his mouth, and then, in the blink of an eye, Morgan found herself flat on her back with Quinn kneeling between her legs. His arousal was hot and heavy against her belly, and when she reached down to touch him again, he swatted her hand away.
“My turn,” he reminded her.
She wasn’t complaining. A shiver scurried through her as Quinn bent down and flicked his tongue over one nipple, which instantly grew even harder. He circled her areola with his tongue, then captured the rigid bud between his teeth and sucked it. Morgan squirmed, the painful arousal too much to bear. Her legs scissored beneath him, seeking his erection, pleading for completion, but he shifted so that his sex rested on her thigh, denying her what she cr
Pleasure hummed through her body as he moved his attention to her other breast, licking, sucking, rubbing her nipple with his thumb. By the time he lowered one hand to her aching core, she was close to exploding. Flames licked at her naked skin, the fire growing stronger, powerful, then crackling into an inferno when he slid one long finger inside her.
She clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip, fighting the rising climax. It was no use. He pushed his finger deeper, then withdrew, pushed it in again, and the inferno exploded, hot waves of climax searing through her. Quinn drew her nipple into his mouth again, riding out the orgasm with her, his skillful fingers drawing out each burst of pleasure.
When she finally came down to earth, she noticed him putting a condom onto his thick shaft. “Where did that come from?” she croaked, her throat dry.
He smiled. “My wallet. You know I’m always prepared.”
She was grateful he’d remembered protection, especially since she hadn’t even thought about it. She’d stopped taking the pill after they broke up, so she was glad he hadn’t forgotten about safety. Yet as he rolled the latex on, she experienced an odd flicker of regret. She almost wished he wouldn’t, that they might start a baby tonight, so she could have something of his when he left her again.
Pushing aside the troubling notion, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a long, lazy kiss. Their tongues danced for a second, and then he was sliding into her, stretching her, filling her until she let out a sigh of pleasure.
“You’re so tight,” he muttered, spreading her thighs wider with his warm hands. He gave a hard thrust and buried his entire length inside her, then pressed his cheek to her shoulder, groaning quietly.
“It’s been a long time,” she admitted.
Quinn raised his head and searched her eyes. “How long?”
“Two years.” She didn’t need to elaborate. There hadn’t been any other man since Quinn.
He let out a strangled breath and said, “For me, too.”
Shock flooded her, but he didn’t give her time to digest the information. He started to move, his pace fast and urgent, then slow and languid, each long thrust bringing her closer to the edge. She ran her fingers over the damp sheen of sweat on his back, closing her eyes and letting the sensations consume her. His hips started to piston, driving deeper, hitting a delicious spot that had her moaning uncontrollably.
They moved together in perfect sync, as if those two agonizing years apart had ceased to exist. Ripples of release gathered in her belly, spreading down to her sex and up to her tingling nipples, until the ripples formed a large, throbbing wave that finally crashed over her.
She cried out and buried her face against his solid chest, letting the pleasure take over. As she climaxed, his thrusts grew erratic, unrestrained, and suddenly he shuddered and let out a hoarse groan.
It took a moment for both of them to come down from the high the lovemaking had propelled them to. Morgan was breathing as heavily as Quinn, her breasts crushed under the weight of his chest, every inch of her quivering from the aftershocks of release
Finally Quinn lifted his head and offered a wry smile. “Well, we’re obviously still incredibly good at doing that.”
A helpless laugh left her throat. “Yeah, we sure are.”
He rolled off her and got up to dispose of the condom, while she lay back against the damp sheets, suddenly uncertain. Would he ask her to leave? Announce his tremendous regret over what they’d just done?
He did neither. Turning off the bathroom light, he came back to bed and slid under the sheets, one strong arm pulling her toward him. She tucked her head against his shoulder and draped her arm over his chest. God, she suddenly felt like bursting into sobs, that’s how wonderful it was being in his arms again. Her lips tingled with the urge to tell him she loved him, that she would always love him, but she feared it would ruin the moment.
Instead, she nestled closer to him, as he lifted the sheet over both of them and held her tighter. She fell asleep to the sound of his breathing and the feel of his fingers soothingly stroking her hair.
Quinn opened his eyes the next morning to the sight of Morgan’s curvy, naked body sprawled on the mattress beside him. She slept on her side, facing him, with her silky blond hair disheveled and strewn across the pillow.
Despite himself, he smiled, loving how innocent and fragile she looked as she slept. He ought to have been frowning, because really, what the hell had he been thinking letting her seduce him last night?
You weren’t thinking.
No, thinking hadn’t played a part in yesterday’s lovemaking. Feeling, that’s what he’d been doing. Feeling her lips against his, her soft body beneath him, her tight inner muscles clamped over his—
He frantically attempted to reroute his brain but it was too late. His cock hardened at the memory, and he shifted uncomfortably, which unfortunately drew Morgan out of her slumber.
Blinking a couple of times, she finally opened her eyes and gave a tiny yawn. “Mornin’,” she murmured.
Again he couldn’t help but smile. Couldn’t help touching her, either. He stroked her bare shoulders, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from her. “That feels nice.” She closed her eyes again. “Don’t stop.”
Although every logical part of his brain told him he should stop, his hands did the exact opposite. He ran his fingers up and down her back, gently kneading her muscles. Her skin felt hot and smooth beneath his palm.
He loved her body, her soft curves and small defined muscles. He moved his hand lower, dragging it over her round bottom. When he squeezed her buttocks, she let out a moan, then cranked one eye open and fixed him with a pointed look. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to want to get jiggy with it, you do realize that, right?”
He threw his head back and laughed. Damn, he’d missed her. Only Morgan could say things like “get jiggy with it” and not sound like a complete idiot.
“Maybe I want to get jiggy, did you think of th
She arched one perfect eyebrow and grinned. “What are you
waiting for then?”
And yep, here was another thing he’d missed, her perpetual eagerness to get him naked. It had always given him a slight ego boost, how she never seemed to tire of him. She was always ready, always willing to give herself to him. And it was a two-way street. In the two years they’d been together, he hadn’t tired of her, either. If anything, his need for her heightened each time they made love.
Sex, a sharp voice said. Not love.
Quinn swallowed. Right, he had to remember that. This…thing…between them had nothing to do with love. Whatever they felt for each other, well, it didn’t matter. This was an affair, nothing more.
“Stop stalling,” she teased, rolling over.
She arched her back, stretching it, and her breasts jutted out enticingly. There were faint red splotches on those luscious mounds, the result of his stubble chafing her delicate skin. Call him crazy and primitive, but he liked seeing his mark on her.
“Seriously, Quinn, if you don’t make a move I’m going downstairs to make some coffee.”
“You’d choose coffee over me?” he mocked.
“Yep.”
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Leaning over the side of the bed, he rummaged on the floor for his wallet and fished out another condom. He had it on and was kneeling between her legs before she could even respond.
“Someone’s a little overeager,” she said with a smirk.
He wiped the smirk right off her face by sliding his shaft inside her. Two years of pent-up lust made it difficult to keep a slow pace, but he gave it a valiant effort, teasing her with languid strokes that had her moaning restlessly. The overwhelming desire torpedoing through his body shocked him, troubled him, but there was no stopping it. Morgan felt so warm and soft under him, her hair mussed up from sleep, her blue eyes glazed with what could only be described as bliss. This woman aroused him beyond belief, and it wasn’t long before the lazy tempo he’d set transformed into a series of hurried, staccato thrusts.