Quantum Series Boxed Set, Books 1-7

by Marie Force

  “Maybe you’ll meet someone at the wedding,” Leah says.

  Sebastian smiles indulgently at her. “Maybe so.”

  He doesn’t do casual pickups outside the lifestyle, so I doubt he’ll bother.

  “What do we think of Marlowe’s new friend?” he asks.

  I glance at Seb. “He seems a little ‘slick,’ if you know what I mean.”

  “He sure is handsome,” Leah adds.

  I pinch her ass, making her startle.

  “Stop it! I’m allowed to say I think he’s handsome.”

  I pinch her again, and she rolls her eyes at me. I don’t want to hear her thoughts on any other guy and will tell her so when I get her alone.

  “I agree that he seems slick, but she sure is crazy about him,” Seb says.

  “She really is,” Leah says.

  “I haven’t seen her like this over a guy in a long time—years,” I add.

  “It has been a while,” Seb agrees. “It’s nice to see her so happy.”

  “Absolutely.” She’s such a good friend to all of us that I’m thrilled to see her glowing and sparkling. I do wonder if Rafe is her submissive or if their relationship isn’t about the lifestyle. Marlowe recently expressed dissatisfaction with the scene, so maybe she’s trying something different with Rafe, the same way I am with Leah.

  I found it strange that when the others found true love, they stepped away from the clubs to conduct their sex lives in private. I thought they were pussies for becoming suddenly circumspect about things they used to do openly and publicly. But now that I’ve developed genuine feelings for Leah, I get it. The thought of people watching us together doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t want anyone else to see what’s mine, and that’s probably how they feel, too. Now I feel kind of bad for thinking they were wimping out when in reality they were protecting the women they love.

  Do I love Leah? I don’t know that for sure, but I do know for sure that I could. I want more with her, I want to take a real chance with her, and that’s more than I’ve wanted with any woman since Elena broke my heart by rejecting me in favor of the man who later hurt her. For so many years, I’ve thought endlessly about what might’ve been different for both of us if I’d fought harder for what I wanted with her, rather than stepping aside so she could have who she wanted.

  My greatest regret is that I didn’t warn her about the odd vibe I’d picked up the two times I met her new boyfriend. I didn’t say anything, though, because I hadn’t wanted to seem like a sore loser or detract from her happiness with warnings she probably wouldn’t have heeded anyway. Regardless, I wish I had said something. Oh, how I wish I had.

  I tighten my arms around Leah, nuzzling my face into her fragrant, silky hair, breathing in her scent, which has become familiar and comforting to me.

  She strokes my arm with her fingertips, and that light touch is like a current zinging through me, making every part of me aware of every part of her. That’s another thing that makes her different from other women I’ve known. There’s never been one who could turn me on by dragging her fingertips lightly over my arm. It usually takes a hell of a lot more than that to get my motor running.

  Thirty minutes after we land, we arrive at the large Victorian inn where we’re staying for the weekend. It’s about two miles from the vineyard that the Quantum partners own. The inn is painted a dark purple with yellow, green and black trim. I wouldn’t have put those colors together, but the place is utterly charming.

  Ted and Maureen, the married couple who own the inn, are clearly trying not to be starstruck by their illustrious guests. As he always does, Flynn puts them at ease with the quick wit and effortless charm that has them forgetting they’re talking to a megastar.

  Room assignments are made, keys handed out and directions given to rooms. We’re told that Hayden and Addie will join us for dinner on the back porch at seven, but we should make ourselves comfortable and at home until then. Cocktails are available in the salon any time we want them. This is my kind of place.

  As the others troop up the stairs like a herd of noisy elephants, I hold Leah back with my arm around her shoulders. “Give back your key,” I say softly, so only she can hear me.

  Her face flushes with an adorable pink hue as she hands her key to the kindly older woman. “I won’t be needing this,” she says.

  Maureen takes a good long look at me, apparently finding me worthy, and smiles at Leah. “No problem. Let me know if you need anything.”

  I nudge Leah toward the stairs and follow her to the third floor, where my room is tucked into a corner. Reaching around her, I use the key in the door, push it open and send her in ahead of me to the cozy room with a huge four-poster bed that’ll be perfect for our weekend extracurricular activities. I packed carefully for this trip, hoping I could convince her to give me a chance to be what she wants and needs. The conversation on the plane went better than I could’ve hoped, and I’m glad I planned ahead.

  We put down our suitcases, hang garment bags with wedding clothes in the closet, and when there’s nothing else to be done, we turn to face each other.

  I raise a brow.

  “Right now?” she asks.

  “Right. Now.”

  He watches me as I draw the casual dress I wore for the trip over my head and step out of wedge sandals. Standing before him in only a thong, I hook my fingers into the strings at my hips and pull them down. Per his instructions on the plane, I get on the bed, kneel, cross my hands and drop my head in submission to whatever he has planned for me.

  I’m trembling madly, which makes me feel vulnerable and needy, but there’s no point in trying to hide those things from him. He’ll see them. He sees everything. He pays attention and attends to every detail in both his professional and personal lives. That’s one of the things that attracted me the first time I met him, the way he projected calm, cool competence as he explained the company’s nondisclosure agreement to me. And yes, I was as attracted to his obvious intelligence as I was to his stunning good looks.

  He’s the whole package as far as I’m concerned, and speaking of whole packages, even with my head down, I can see that his package is hard and ready for me as he approaches the bed.

  “You’re shaking,” he says.

  “I can’t make it stop.”

  “Are you scared?”

  It touches me that he never wants me to be afraid of him. I suspect the reason for that is part of what he needs to tell me, but I’m not allowed to ask that now. “No, sir. I’m not scared.”

  “Excited?”

  “Very.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “What we were doing the other night before it went bad.”

  “Before your ass nearly took out my eye, you mean?”

  I raise my head to give him a foul look.

  He laughs. “You aren’t being sassy to your Dom by any chance, are you?”

  “What if I am?”

  “Is my baby spoiling for a spanking?”

  “That’s not up to me, sir. I would never dare to tell my Dom how he should punish me.” The conversation we had on the plane has freed me to let go and give in to the powerful emotions and desire he arouses in me. He let me know it’s safe to feel everything for him, and that makes this so much more than it was before. And it was intense before. Now, it’s something else altogether.

  “Close your eyes and keep them closed.”

  I love that authoritative tone he uses only when we’re playing this way. The rest of the time, he is respectful and polite, if a bit bitchy at times. I giggle to myself at the thought of how his eyes had narrowed when I called him that.

  “Is something amusing you, my sweet?”

  “No, sir.” I love that he called me his sweet, that he’s here with me, committed to trying to make a relationship work after promising to tell me more about himself and his past so I can try to understand him better. That conversation on the plane was life-changing in more ways than one.

  �
��Are you feeling congested or otherwise sneezy today?”

  I can’t stop the giggle that escapes despite my best effort to contain it.

  His hand comes down on my right ass cheek with a resounding smack that only makes me laugh harder. I completely lose my shit, falling to the bed and holding my sides as I laugh my ass off. When I finally get control of myself, I open my eyes and venture a glance at my stormy-looking Dom. God, he’s so sexy, even when he’s trying to be pissed off.

  “All finished?”

  Biting my lip to hold back more laughter, I nod. “It’s your fault for asking if I’m feeling sneezy.”

  “Well, can you blame me for asking?” He rubs his black eye, which is still swollen but nowhere near as bad as it was after it first happened. “I only have two eyes, and after nearly losing one of them, I’m a little more cautious.”

  I start to laugh again, harder than before. I can’t even be bothered to worry about whether I’m making him mad, and besides, what does it matter? He has emphatically declared that I will never be in any danger with him, so I can feel free to let go and be myself.

  He comes down on top of me, taking my arms and pinning them over my head before kissing my smiling lips. “Knock it off,” he growls.

  “Quit saying stuff that makes me laugh, and quit your glowering, too. It doesn’t scare me.”

  Moving slowly, he brings his lips down on mine in a soft, persuasive kiss that makes me forget what I was laughing about. He holds my hands in place with one hand and uses the other to cup my breast, pinching my nipple between his thumb and index finger while continuing to kiss me with gentle strokes of his tongue and lips. This kiss is all about seduction, and I am very easily seduced where he’s concerned.

  I wrap my legs around his hips and press against the hard ridge of his cock, which throbs between my legs. I want him inside me, right now. Thankfully, he gets the message and pushes into me, moving slowly so he won’t hurt me. Before him, I wouldn’t have thought it would be such a different experience to take someone as big as he is. From the physical to the emotional, I’m overwhelmed by him and the way he makes me feel.

  “Not so funny anymore, is it?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as amusement makes his lips twitch.

  I shake my head and tug on my hands, wanting him to let them go so I can touch him.

  He releases my wrists, and I slide my hands down his back to cup his muscular ass, wanting to bring him deeper into me. Groaning, he heeds my silent request and gives me the rest of him, sparking wave after wave of sensation that travels from my core to every other part of me. My heart contracts, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. I hold on tight to him as he moves faster, driving into me and then retreating, over and over again until I’m screaming from the release that rips through me like a tsunami, leaving me flattened in its wake.

  He’s right there with me, his fingers digging into my shoulder and hip as he surges into me one last time, filling me with the heat of his release.

  “Christ have mercy,” he mutters as he collapses on top of me.

  I take it as a good sign that he’s praying in the aftermath of our explosive lovemaking. I hold him close, caress his back and run my fingers through his hair, which is damp with sweat. Normally, sweaty guys disgust me, but not this guy. Everything about him does it for me.

  “We were loud,” he says, seeming only now to realize where we are and who might’ve been listening.

  “That’s also your fault for fucking me senseless.”

  “Are you senseless?”

  “I don’t have a working brain cell left after that.”

  “Neither do I.” He raises himself up on his arms and looks down at me. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Good.” He withdraws from me and lands next to me on the bed, putting his arm around me to keep me close.

  “I meant to tell you I got my copy of Abbey Road back—with apologies.”

  “You better have.”

  “That must’ve been one hell of a letter you wrote him.”

  “It was, if I do say so myself.”

  “Thank you for doing that for me.”

  “Happy to.”

  “There was something you were going to tell me…”

  “I know.” He plays with a strand of my hair, curling it around his finger. After a long period of silence, he begins to speak in a soft tone that’s full of emotion. “When I was in college at Berkeley, I met a woman named Elena the first semester of my sophomore year and was instantly attracted to her. She had transferred in from a community college and was so excited to finally be at her dream school. I offered to show her around, introduce her to my friends.”

  “That was nice of you.”

  “Well, I had an ulterior motive. I also wanted her to fall madly in love with me.”

  “So did she?”

  “Not exactly. I introduced her to my friend Brad, and she fell madly in love with his roommate, Andrew.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, I was super bummed, especially when I picked up the vibe that things with Drew, as she called him, were less than perfect. She would come to class with bruises on her arms and eyes red from crying. I pleaded with her to talk to me, but she refused to talk about it with anyone, and she begged me to stay out of it.”

  My stomach hurts as I try to figure out where this is going.

  “I tried to do what she’d asked me, but I was so upset about the possibility of him hurting her that I went to see him and told him if he was knocking her around, he was going to answer to me and her other friends.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said I was crazy, that he loved her and would never lay a finger on her. He also mentioned that he’d figured out that I had feelings for her and that he was sorry if their relationship had caused me pain.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, I left there feeling like he wasn’t a bad guy and maybe I’d misread the situation.”

  “Had you?”

  “No,” he says, his expression grim and his eyes flat. “I didn’t misread it at all. That night, he beat her up so bad, she ended up in a coma for four months.”

  “Oh, Emmett. Oh my God.” Tears fill my eyes as I imagine his despair and heartbreak. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was a fucking nightmare. For the first week, we were sure she was going to die, and then afterward, we worried what would happen if she survived. She had surgery to relieve the pressure in her brain.”

  “Tell me he was arrested, that he didn’t get away with it.”

  “They got him. He’s been locked up since that day. Her friends… We go to every parole board meeting to plead with them to keep him in jail where he belongs. So far they’ve listened to us, but I’m sure they’ll let him out at some point.”

  “And Elena…” I’m almost afraid to ask.

  “She came out of the coma after four months, but she was permanently disabled. She has the emotions and intelligence of a little girl. Before that, she was fucking brilliant, heading for law school. That was something we had in common.”

  “I’m so, so sorry that happened to your friend and that you’ve blamed yourself all this time.”

  “Who else should I blame? She met the guy because of me and got the crap beat out of her because I confronted him after she begged me to stay out of it.”

  “It’s not your fault, Emmett. You didn’t hurt her. He did.”

  “I know that intellectually, but I really do wish I hadn’t made it worse for her by confronting him when she told me not to.”

  “You were looking out for someone you loved. No one could fault you for that.” I caress his face and hair, wishing there was something I could do to alleviate his obvious agony. “Where is she now?”

  “In a residential care facility in Pacific Palisades. I see her once a month and keep in touch with her family.”

  “Pacific Palisades. That must be expensive.”

  “It is, but it’s worth ever
y penny to make sure she has everything she needs.”

  “How long have you been paying for her care?”

  He glances at me, seeming startled that I put two plus two together to get that he took responsibility for her. Sighing, he says, “From the beginning. She’s been in the facility the last ten years, since her parents got to the point where they couldn’t care for her at home anymore.”

  “I love you, Emmett. I love everything about you, but mostly, I love how much you care about the people who matter to you and the way you take care of everyone.”

  “I didn’t take care of her—not the way I should have.”

  “You did everything you could to try to get her out of a bad situation. You have to stop blaming yourself for something that was out of your control.”

  “You sound like the therapist I saw for years after it happened. He used to say the same thing. I don’t have a lot of regrets in my life, but the one thing I’d do over, if I could, is that last day. I would’ve grabbed her hand, dragged her to my car and driven her far, far away from that campus, far, far away from him.”

  “She would’ve gone running back the minute she could. You know that, don’t you?”

  He takes my hand and links our fingers. “The therapist said that, too. You might’ve missed your calling.”

  “There was nothing you could’ve done for her, Emmett. She had to want to save herself, and she wasn’t there yet.”

  “Maybe she would’ve gotten there if I’d stayed out of it.”

  “I’m sorry you’ve been so tortured by this for all these years. I understand now why you’ve been reluctant to get involved with anyone and why you like to be dominant in bed. It’s because there’re so many things you can’t control.” So much makes sense now in light of this information.

  “You’ve got me fully figured out,” he says, flashing a small smile. “Marlowe knows about Elena, but the others don’t, so keep it between us, will you?”

  “Of course. Weren’t you friends with Flynn and Hayden back then?”

  “I was, but we went to different colleges, so they weren’t around for this. Afterward, it was just too painful to air it out with my friends from home. I told Marlowe about it one night when we got drunk together years ago, but no one else.”