Extraction Point (Ricochet #3)

by Heather C. Leigh

  He couldn’t help himself. The sight of this tiny thing trying to look intimidating was funny. Rick laughed. “You’re too much, doll.” The corner of her mouth twitched up—it was just a hint of a smile, but it made Rick’s day. Quinn hadn’t smiled once since his team rescued her. Seeing some of her personality coming back flooded him with emotion. “Let’s go. Unless… did you come down here for something?”

  “No. I was just bored.” Her eyes darted around the large room, taking in the different fighters training. “I wanted to…”

  Rick waited for her to finish her thought, but she didn’t. “Quinn?” He reached over and nudged her chin with his gloved hands, bringing her face up so he could see it.

  Her cheeks flushed red. “I wanted to keep training with Xavier. I thought… I mean, I know I wasn’t able to get away from Travis, but maybe… forget it. It’s stupid.”

  “No. It’s not stupid. It’s a great idea.” He kept his eyes steady on hers. “When you’re fully healed. Okay?” How Quinn thought she was going to train when her body was still healing from being so broken, he didn’t know. But he would help her feel confident in defending herself, even if it took a lifetime for her to get to that point.

  Quinn nodded that she understood. Rick let go of her chin, quickly shed his gear, and threw on a shirt. “I’m done for today. Let’s go.”

  He slung an arm around her shoulders, hugging her to his side. Rick loved how perfectly she fit under his arm. She was small enough to tuck right up against him. When she wrapped her arm around his waist to help keep her balance as they walked, he smiled like an idiot, ignoring the ‘you’re so whipped’ smirks his teammates were throwing his way.

  Once they were in her apartment, Rick caught Quinn staring at him again with that look. The one that made his body react instantly, as if she lit a match and tossed it into a can of gasoline. She leaned into him, pressing her breasts against him, grinding her lower body into his groin. Man, when she wanted something, he had a hell of a time denying her. How could he when she rubbed her hot body all over his?

  A bolt of lust zinged through Rick from the heady contact. He hissed, the air leaving his lungs sharply. “No doll. You’re not well enough yet.” Rick tried to pry Quinn off of him, but she held on tight and he felt his willpower crumbling. Most of her bruising was gone, only a few tender spots remained, but he still felt like he was taking advantage.

  “I need you, Rick. Please?” She nuzzled the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder, her hot breath caressing his skin. When he felt her small tongue swipe at the corded tendons, then her teeth nibble on them, his resolve weakened further.

  “Don’t do this to me, doll. It’s not right. You need to heal.” Rick was damn near panting now, straining from the effort it took to hold back. The urge to thrust his pelvis forward to get more of that friction on his cock was overwhelming.

  When her hand snaked down to palm his erection through his thin nylon shorts, he was done. Game over. Rick dropped his head to capture Quinn’s mouth, groaning when she opened to him. She wound her arms around his neck, threading her fingers in the too-long hair that curled at the ends over his neck and ears. Quinn tugged on it, sending a series of sparks straight to his dick.

  Rick tore his mouth away, his breath quick and heavy. “Are you sure?”

  She pulled his head down for another long kiss. “Yes.”

  He grabbed her hand and spun around, towing her towards the bedroom. Quinn tried to slow down as they neared the bed but Rick kept going, pulling her along. He didn’t stop until they were in the bathroom where let go of her hand only to reach into the glass enclosure to start the shower.

  Rick quickly shed his fight shorts and shirt. Next, he turned to pull Quinn’s loose T-shirt up over her head. He winced when he caught sight of a faded bruise that remained along her ribcage, fury boiling inside him, clawing to be let out to extract his pound of flesh from Travis Hardy. Knowing she was still somewhat sore, Rick helped Quinn remove her shorts and panties, lowering them down her legs as she stepped out of them.

  After checking the temperature of the water, he let Quinn get in the shower first, following behind and shutting the glass door.

  “Mmmmm, feels so good.” Quinn was standing under the hot spray, letting the water run over her head and down her body.

  “Turn around.” Rick poured a handful of shampoo and gently washed Quinn’s hair, giving her a thorough scalp massage before rinsing out the foam.

  She faced him, a blissed out look in her eyes. “Your turn.”

  Instead of turning away, Rick bent over at the waist so Quinn could reach his head without stretching her tender muscles. He groaned at the feel of her nails scratching his scalp. His already hard cock got impossibly harder watching her breasts bounce at eye level while she lathered his hair.

  “Jesus.”

  “What Rick?”

  “Nothing. Just… you. You’re amazing.”

  Quinn pulled her hands back, washing them under the spray. “Rinse.”

  They switched places, Rick letting the foam run down his body and into the drain. Quinn was watching the soap stream over his slick skin, her face and neck flushing with desire. His dick was so hard he thought he might pass out if he didn’t do something about it. When Quinn’s roving gaze landed on his stiff cock and she licked her lips, he knew he’d do whatever she asked.

  Quinn was mesmerized by Rick’s gorgeous body. Every muscle, every roped tendon, every inch of wet skin was perfect… masculine… addictive.

  Yes—her body still ached from Travis’ hands. Yes—she still woke up each night sweating and scared. But Quinn refused to let Travis ruin this for her too, ruin her amazing physical relationship with Rick. She desired him, and didn’t want Rick to treat her as fragile and untouchable forever.

  Quinn gripped Rick’s blushing cock, sliding her tight fist up and down the smooth shaft. She felt Rick shudder as his head fell back, his hips thrusting into her hand as she jacked him. Without warning, Rick pounced, his mouth landing on hers, his hands slapping against the tile wall on either side of her head, startling her. Rick nipped at her lips, biting and licking and teasing her. Then he grabbed her face with both hands and devoured her mouth, fucking her with his hot tongue as she worked his cock faster and faster.

  “God… don’t stop.” Rick’s breath hitched as he hissed against her lips. “Ahhhh. Fuck. Yes!” Quinn felt Rick’s hips thrust hard and his release coated her hands and stomach, splashing her before it was whisked away by the shower spray.

  Quinn giggled at Rick’s dazed look. “You can hardly stay on your feet,” she laughed when he swayed like a drunkard.

  He gave her one of his perfect, white smiles. “It’s your fault, doll. If you weren’t so intoxicating, I wouldn’t be so affected.”

  She gasped when he recovered and focused his piercing aqua-colored eyes on her. Gently, he pushed her back until she was flat against the tiles. “Wha—”

  Quinn didn’t get a chance to finish her question. Rick dropped to his knees, parted her thighs with his large hands, and thrust his tongue between her legs.

  “Holy—oh my god.” She threw her head back and moaned.

  Pleasure radiated from every nerve in her body. When her muscles tensed up, Quinn felt a distant twinge of pain, but the ecstasy overrode everything else.

  “Fuck you taste so good.” Rick growled and continued with his wicked tongue-lashing.

  Her hands found the top of his head, holding on tight for support or else she’d fall to the floor. The hot water rained on them, streams running down their skin. Quinn tried to keep her eyes open, but couldn’t, it was too much.

  A shudder rippled over her, her entire body stiffening. Rick must have felt it because he murmured against her hot flesh. “Come for me, doll.”

  The ache in her still-healing body multiplied as the orgasm tore through her, causing Quinn to make a strangled sound at the pain/pleasure sensation.

  “Fuck! You’re hurting, aren
’t you?” Rick immediately stood up, clutching her still trembling figure to his chest. “Damn it. I knew it was too soon. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Shhhhh.” Quinn didn’t want to hear Rick’s apologies. “I’m fine, Rick. Really. Just a little sore, that’s all. I feel fantastic, in fact. Better than I have in a while.”

  She felt the pressure from his fingers increase on her back and knew he was stifling the urge to vocalize how upset he was.

  Good, because he’ll kill my post-orgasm buzz if he starts giving himself or me a guilt trip.

  Rick reached over to turn off the water. Quietly, he handed Quinn a towel, wrapping it around her shoulders. He silently grabbed his own and stepped out of the enclosure, storming off to the bedroom to dress.

  Great. My buzz has officially been killed.

  Hurrying, Quinn threw on a pair of panties and a tank top before following Rick into the bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of her bed wearing only a pair of briefs, elbows on his knees with his head hanging down.

  As long as he’s already overemotional, Quinn figured she could finally have a discussion she’d been putting off, afraid of his reaction. She curled up behind him on the bed, laying her cheek on his strong, broad back. Her hand roved over the corded muscles, lower and lower until she found what she was looking for. Quinn circled her fingertip over the puckered pink scar on Rick’s lower back.

  “Why don’t you tell me how this really happened?”

  Rick’s head snapped up, twisting around to make eye contact. “I told you.”

  “Yeah, fell on a free weight. I know.” Her hand drifted around to the front of Rick’s body, finding the same scar on his abdomen. “My dad was in the Marines, remember?”

  She felt his muscles twitch. “Yes. I remember.”

  “I know what this is, Rick.” Quinn slid off the bed and sat straddling his lap, face to face. Her palms caressed over his chest and she looked into his eyes. “My dad had several just like it. Desert Storm. I guess they don’t always ricochet, huh?” Her laugh was as weak as her joke.

  Quinn watched as Rick screwed his eyes shut, as if he were in pain at the thought of her knowing the truth. “I’m sorry I lied to you.” He sighed, resigned to the fact that his lie fell apart.

  “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m just… it scares me that someone shot you, Rick. Why?” Even my superhero isn’t invincible.

  “I can’t tell you. Not without talking to Mack first.”

  “Mack? Mack didn’t shoot you…” Horror crept over her skin. “Did he?”

  “What? No! Mack didn’t shoot me.” Rick laughed, but it sounded slightly off, probably from the stress of everything that had happened in the last few months.

  “Oh.” Now Quinn felt stupid for suggesting it. Of course Mack didn’t shoot Rick. “I have so many questions, Rick.”

  He wrapped his arms around her back, hugging her closely, but gently to his body. She never felt as safe as she did in Rick’s arms. Her fears melted into the background until she could almost feel normal.

  Normal. What’s that?

  Rick tensed up, waiting for Quinn to ask her questions. Questions he couldn’t answer. He wouldn’t reveal Mack’s secret— the business hidden behind the façade of a training facility. Not without Mack’s blessing first.

  “How did you find me at my dad’s?”

  That’s an easy one. And one I already answered.

  “I told you in the hospital, doll.”

  “Mack told you my dad had a house on the lake, so you went to check it out on a hunch. Just… where was Travis? Did you see him?”

  Rick’s heart plunged into his stomach. He really didn’t want to have this conversation. His body tensed when he heard that bastard’s name.

  “No, I didn’t see him. Doll, I told you all this already. Don’t you remember our conversation?”

  “I know you did. I had a head injury so my memory is fuzzy. It … it feels like I don’t know everything that happened. Can you humor me, please?” Quinn bit her lip, obviously struggling with her next question.

  “Just ask, Quinn. What do you want to know?”

  Her small frame began to shake on his lap. Rick could feel the tremors as he held her. “Where is he now?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know.” Rick admitted. Defeated, he began rubbing his hands up and down Quinn’s back as he tried to give her reassurance. “He wasn’t there and he didn’t show up.” Tucker had tried finding the man, but he had disappeared into thin air.

  All I know is that he’s not back in Texas, which means he’s either coming back to try again or he knows he’s being watched. My bet is that the idiot isn’t leaving Georgia without Quinn.

  “What if he comes for me?”

  That was the million-dollar question.

  “He won’t get near you, Quinn. I won’t allow it.”

  She snuggled in closer, making herself even smaller as if that were possible. Rick wanted to kill that motherfucker for what he did to Quinn. If Travis were to come anywhere near the gym or his girl, Rick had no problem putting a bullet right between his eyes.

  “But—”

  “No. It’s not healthy for you to stress out thinking about that asshole. I’ve got it covered. He. Will. Not. Get. You. Not without going through me.”

  Rick pulled back so Quinn could see that he was serious.

  Another shudder wracked her body, but she nodded dutifully, putting her faith in Rick and his ability to protect her.

  I won’t fail you, doll. If I have to kill him with my bare hands, I will.

  He rocked her back and forth, knowing that as safe as he could make her feel, he still couldn’t erase the memories of what she already suffered. And that was the most frustrating part of this whole fucked up scenario.

  Rick entered Sanctum the next day, clasping Quinn’s hand in his. He didn’t want her left alone, and she seemed somewhat better when they were together, so it worked out perfectly. Except for days like today, when he had a meeting with Mack.

  “I don’t need a babysitter, Rick.”

  They had been over this again and again. “Quinn, please, not today, doll. Humor me and stay nearby.”

  He took her silence as a grudging consent, so he left it at that.

  Rick dug in his pocket, removing his key card, giving her a sharp look that dared her to argue with him. They passed the empty front desk to enter the main area of the gym. He swiped his card and held the door open for her to pass through first.

  “Rick! Quinn! Good to see you.”

  Clint stood next to one of the treadmills. He was wiping his face and chest with a towel before he shrugged on a threadbare T-shirt.

  “Hi Clint.” Quinn gave him a peck on the cheek.

  “Hey stud.” Rick shook hands with his friend, who rolled his eyes at Rick’s ridiculous nickname.

  Clint looked back and forth between Rick and Quinn. “You here for the meeting with Mack?” he asked Rick.

  “Yes. Quinn is going to hang out in here until we’re done.” He heard her huff of annoyance and ignored it. She would just have to get used to him watching out for her. Rick spotted Xavier on the far end of the room, covering his fingers and wrists with bright yellow hand wraps. “Xav!” Rick left Quinn with Clint to jog over to where Xavier was sitting.

  “What’s up, Ricochet?” He didn’t stop wrapping as he spoke.

  “I have a meeting with Clint and Mack about that asshole ex of Quinn’s. She’s going to sit in here or hang in the break room. Is that okay?”

  Xav looked up at him. “Yeah man. My new trainee, Devin should be here soon. We’re supposed to spar.”

  Rick frowned. Quinn wouldn’t want to watch the men fight but he had no choice. “Don’t mind her then. She’s been real jumpy since… you know… so don’t make any sudden movements or act weird.”

  Xavier stood and punched Rick’s shoulder—hard. “Shut the fuck up, Rick. I’ve been training the girl for months. I know how to act around her.” Rick could see the
insult on Xavier’s face.

  “Alright, fine. Just keep an eye out, that’s all. She doesn’t want to be here, but it makes me feel better.”

  “You got it.”

  Rick turned and walked back to where Clint and Quinn were discussing something about Mara, a new cocktail she invented, and the aftermath the next day. Quinn was laughing, a wide smile on her face. It took Rick’s breath away to see her happy again. After what she suffered through, he didn’t think it would happen again for a long time.

  “Okay doll. Clint and I have to go meet with Mack. We’ll be in the conference room. You’re good here, right?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. Go. Work. You’ve missed too much as it is.” She tried to physically push Rick towards the hall, but he was too big for her to maneuver.

  Rick snickered at her attempt to manhandle him. “You’re adorable.” He bent over and stole a quick kiss. Then another. “See you in a little while.” He lingered, not wanting to leave her side after spending nearly every minute together for three straight weeks.

  “Go!” Quinn said, exasperated at his stalling.

  “Stay here,” he said one last time. She rolled her eyes, making him grin.

  “C’mon lover boy.” Clint grabbed Rick’s arm and yanked him down the hall. “See you later Quinn!” he called out over his shoulder.

  “Bye Clint!”

  Rick tugged his arm out of Clint’s grasp. “I can walk, stud.”

  “Uh-huh. Maybe in between making lovey-eyes with Quinn.”

  Faking annoyance, Rick shoved Clint through the conference room door. Clint hit the table, nearly upending it with his massive height and weight. Taking up the challenge, he lunged for Rick, who ducked out of the way just in time.

  “Are you two done?”

  Both men turned towards their boss, huge grins on their faces. Rick couldn’t believe how good it felt to act normal again, laughing and joking around. Then he noticed the file on the table in front of Mack, with a photo of Travis Hardy on top, and his good mood evaporated instantly.