by Violet Duke
A snarl of outrage burst out of Rylan’s chest. What kind of sack of shit cheats on his pregnant girlfriend?
She placed a hand on his heaving chest. “It’s okay. Really. He’s not worth your anger.”
“But he hurt you,” growled Rylan, rage throbbing through him…until a realization hit him like a battering ram. His hands gripped her shoulders. “Are you telling me that I made you feel the way he did?” Tortured anguish roughened his voice. “Baby, please don’t tell me I hurt you that bad just now.”
She quickly slid her hands up to frame his face. “No. No, Rylan. Of course you didn’t. And that was what scared me. That’s why I left. I needed to…think.”
With a deep breath that she held for what seemed like an eternity, a calm seemed to settle over her features, before she explained, “Just now, when I saw you two, I felt jealous, of course. But in a possessive way, not a paranoid way. And the reason why…is because I trust you.” Her eyes shot up to his as if to measure his reaction.
Understanding and something a whole lot more weighty hit him square in the chest.
“I mean it’s crazy,” she said more to herself than him. “There you were in almost the exact same position I saw Brody and his little groupie, and I trusted you.”
He gently brushed her hair back away from her face. “And that scared you,” he murmured, reiterating her previous statement, feeling so damn much for this woman and her maddening ways. “So you left. To go think.”
“Yes, yes, and yes.” She brought her eyes up to meet his again. “But I was going to come back. I wouldn’t have missed out on the hitting you with your own arms part.”
He shook his head with gruff tenderness. “You make me crazy, you know that?” He held onto her chin to make sure she heard him. “As far as I’m concerned, when you’re in even remote viewing distance from me, no other woman even exists on the planet. And when you’re not, every spare thought I have revolves around when, and how, and how quickly I can get you back in viewing range, or better yet, back in my arms again. You can always trust me.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “Believe me?”
Eyes softening, she nodded, replying quietly, “Yes. And while I know this is just going to make you even more overbearing and cavemanish, you should probably know that I feel the exact same way. About you.”
Well, damn.
Steadying his gaze on her liquid blue eyes to try and slow down the now hammering drum beat tattooing the inside of his chest, he brought his forehead down to rest on hers. “Tomorrow’s Valentine concert will probably run later than tonight’s, but I’m heading straight to your house afterward with dessert.” His voice brooked no refusal, throbbing with undeclared emotions now tattered round the edges. “We can watch a DVD, play cards, whatever. So long as we’re together, I don’t care what we do. And if you and Coop are free the next day, I thought the three of us could camp out in your yard like he’d gone on about last week. I got us a big tent so we—”
Quinn grabbed him and halted the rest of his words with her lips.
Surprise immobilized Rylan for all of one heartbeat before he pitched his arms around her and crushed her to him. He never wanted to let go, couldn’t if he’d tried. The pent-up passion she was unleashing slayed his ability to do anything but hang on for the wildest ride of his life.
She kissed them both into a side alley and he nearly swallowed his tongue when she mindlessly slid one knee up his leg. Knowing what her movements were doing to her prim little business skirt was unmitigated torture. Quinn had amazing legs. And she never wore hose or stockings, a fact he knew from looking but not touching per the old ‘nothing below the waist in back and absolutely nothing in front’ rule he’d been tormenting himself with on each of their pseudo dates. He knew she’d been hurt by a lot of jerks in her life and he hadn’t wanted to rush her or make her feel like she had to do anything she wasn’t ready to do again.
But now here she was, ready and offering, and damn it all but he wanted to accept.
Unable to stop himself, he smoothed his hand over her hip until he came in contact with the warm, bare skin of her thigh. Even better than his fantasies. She shifted forward and his knees almost gave out when his fingers slipped under the edge of her skirt completely, dangerously close to curves he really shouldn’t be touching out here in plain view of the world.
He yanked his hand back and pulled away from the kiss at once. Criminy. It would be his luck that the first time he actually got to feel those gorgeous legs of hers they’d be in public, unable to do a damn thing more about it. “Quinn, honey, this alley isn’t all that private.”
It was as if she didn’t care. She leaned forward and slid her lips across his jaw, tracing her tongue down his neck before clamping her mouth onto the hard, beating pulse at his throat.
A coarse groan, soft and low, rumbled out of him.
“I love the sounds you make,” she whispered against his skin.
He’d have made the same declaration to her if he’d had any mind left to voice, but he didn’t. She’d stolen all thought from him when her curious hands slipped under his shirt and flexed into his tense lats before scoring his obliques.
But she didn’t stop there. Her fingertips slid down to tease the gap between his painfully clenched stomach and belt buckle, where much hotter flesh was rapidly gravitating to her fingers.
Christ. He barely caught her wrist in time.
Great, now Quinn let her inner sex kitten out of the cage. He’d seen that hidden fire in her all along, but evidently, he hadn’t known the half of it. “Sugar, I’m seconds from taking you to my truck and just plain taking you,” he rasped, his voice hoarse.
Her blue eyes eclipsed, and all his good intentions shot straight to hell. A ragged curse spilled from his lips.
“You’re supposed to say no, honey.”
“But I want to say yes,” she whispered.
Instantly, everything turned fuzzy. “Good god, woman.” Somehow—and he had no idea how—he still managed to force himself back, his body fighting every step he took.
Until he heard the delicate, feminine sound of disappointment from Quinn. Just that quickly, his feet simply refused to move another inch. He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her back to him again. “I need one more kiss, sugar. One more to make waiting for the rest bearable.”
When her face lit up, his eyelids lowered tenderly. Damn, this was going to be a hell of a long kiss.
“Concerts never start on time anyway,” he muttered as he bent down and captured her lips in a kiss so sweet he didn’t ever want it to end.
A half hour later, during his band’s set, Rylan found himself finally grasping what it meant to sing from the soul as he felt his throaty ballads resonate from depths his music had never ever reached before.
All because of Quinn.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
QUINN LOOKED AROUND at the yard, taking in every detail of the post-Valentine’s Day campout that Rylan had set up for her and Cooper. The new three-person tent, the fire, the dozen new books for campfire storytime, big flashlights to go exploring in the dark later, the massive selection of food, and games to play in the morning.
Her heart expanded like a giant balloon in her chest.
It was amazing. He was amazing.
“How’s that, buddy? Breathing okay?” asked Rylan worriedly as he positioned a humidifier next to Cooper, and then hurriedly switched on the second fan he’d placed next to the camp fire to blow the smoke away from Cooper. He looked up at Quinn. “You think I should get another fan?”
Oh good lord, the man was too much. She went over and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you. For all this.”
He hugged her tight, slipping her a quick, hard kiss while Coop was poking at the fire.
…Before running back in the house for ‘one last fan.’
The second he was out of viewing range, Quinn grabbed her phone and texted her sister.
>>> HEY, PEN
. CAN YOU BABYSIT COOPER TOMORROW NIGHT?
>>> SURE. WHAT’S UP?
Knowing there was a very good chance she’d hear Penny screaming from all the way over in Pinnacle Peak, she quickly answered by way of another question.
>>> CAN HE STAY OVERNIGHT?
A nanosecond pause before a emoticon ridden text returned with:
>>> YES! OH MY GOD! YOU BETTER GIVE ME DETAILS THE NEXT MORNING!
* * * * *
SOOO, HOW DOES one go about bringing up the topic of sex? Quinn wondered to herself as she fiddled with the remote on the couch next to Rylan.
She tried to remember how it’d been in the past when she’d had sex. It was a lot simpler back then. Pretty much, they pounced, she parted.
Yeah, that wouldn’t work here.
Rylan wasn’t going to pounce. Nope. He was going to be the world’s most aggravatingly patient nice guy until she brought it up first.
Just say you want sex. It’s sex. Guys like sex.
His hand squeezed her shoulder. “You okay? You seem tense.”
Say it!
“Sweetheart?”
Okay, let’s start easy. Just say words. Anything with words so he doesn’t think you’ve gone mute. Say something!
“I’m not wearing granny underwear!”
Yeah…anything but that.
Rylan went still for a beat before she felt his chest start to shake with laughter.
She buried her face between his collar bones, wedging her head against his chin when she felt him start to respond to her asinine outburst.
He pulled her around front to straddle his lap. “I’m not really sure what to say to that. I guess…I’m…happy for you?” His eyes danced with more muffled humor.
Covering both hands over her face, she gritted out, “I’m going to kill Penny.”
“Sugar, I’m completely lost as to what we’re talking about.” He gently pried her hands away from her face and pressed gentle kisses to her blazing hot cheeks. “How about you back us up a few steps and catch me up here.”
“On every date we’ve been on, Penny told me not to wear granny underwear. She went on and on about how I had to wear sexy lingerie. For you.”
Aside from the brief clenching of all those glorious muscles of his, he seemed pretty unfazed. “Babe, you could make a paper bag look sexy.”
Aw, that helped her continue what was officially the worst have-sex-with-me come-on ever. “Well, I didn’t listen to her. I try my very best to do the opposite of what Penny says as much as possible.”
He chuckled. “No comment.”
“So, that’s why I’ve mainly worn skirts and dresses on all our dates—so you wouldn’t see the panty lines from these awful giant-flowered granny panties I bought specifically for our dates. To keep us from…you know.”
His grin spread wide as he slid a smiling kiss over her temple. “You do have a tendency to go all out when you put your mind to something.”
“But tonight, I’m not wearing granny underwear,” she said meaningfully, before quickly returning her face to her nice little hiding spot against the crook of his neck.
Every inch of him went granite-hard for several heartbeats.
Then his deep, smoky voice—huskier than she’d ever heard it—asked the inevitable, “And you’re telling me this because…”
“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
“With respect to the perpetual judgment-clouding hard-on I’ve had since the moment I first saw you, I think that might be best.”
She leaned back to see if he was being serious.
And then scooted forward to gather more evidence.
The very male hiss that resulted when she straddled what was undoubtedly a very big cloud impairing his judgment had her reaching down for his belt.
“What are you doing?” he graveled through clenched teeth.
“Un-clouding your judgment.”
Groaning, he caught her hands and pinned them on the couch cushions on either side of him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
A hungry gasp escaped her when she rocked against him and felt him grow even harder. What was he asking her? The sound of her throbbing heartbeat had reached deafening decibels.
“Sweetheart, are you sure?” he repeated. “I don’t mind waiting. Honest.”
Waiting? Was he insane? Right now, he was vying for top honors as the sweetest, most sadistic man alive. “I can’t wait.” She wrestled her hands free and slid his shirt up his torso, dragging it off him seconds before her lips found the pulse at the base of his neck. His hands gripped her hips and slid down her thighs, reducing her brain to mush. “Need you. Now.”
Not eloquent, but wholly accurate. She was going up in flames.
His fingers slid along her thighs, slipping under her skirt until she heard him curse softly.
Now that his shirt was off and she was able to slide her hands all over his sculpted muscles, she was wrapped up in a hazy, erotic calm that gave her back the ability to think in full sentences. “I told you I never listen to Penny.”
“No panties,” he rasped out on a guttural groan.
She’d bypassed the sexy lingerie altogether.
His fingers were impressively quick as he unbuttoned her sweater. When she felt him release the clasp of her bra, instantly she covered herself back up.
Golden eyes blazing with heat, and heavy with lust snagged hers. “Don’t hide yourself from me.”
“I’m not as young as your groupies,” she explained lamely, keeping one arm over her breasts while she reached for the lamp switch beside the couch. “And I had a kid. I’m not as…perky as all those gorgeous women who throw themselves at you.”
His eyes narrowed, and he managed to catch her hand before she could kill the light in the living room. “You think those women are gorgeous?”
Well, duh. She nodded and reached for the throw blanket to cover up after he somehow used his secret third and fourth hands to get her bra off.
“If you think they’re gorgeous, it’s because you’re not seeing what I see.”
“What do you see?”
“You.” He rumbled in her ear before leaning her back and sliding his lips down the valley between her breasts. “I told you. All I ever see is you. Even when you’re not in the room with me. Since I met you, I can’t remember the last time I actually saw a woman enough to commit her to memory. Every pair of blue eyes I see are dull compared to yours, every smile completely forgettable.”
His tongue circled a nipple and they both groaned. “All my brain can and wants to see is you. All my body wants is to feel you in my arms. When you’re not, I spend all my energy and focus looking at every inch of you and imagining my hands all over you. You’re an addiction, Quinn Christiansen.”
“My addiction.”
He sucked hard and she cried out his name, arching when she felt his rough thumb tease her other nipple as well. Back and forth he alternated, completely stealing control of her body, sentencing her to what felt like an eternity of mind-erasing pleasure.
Panting and writhing, it took her a moment to realize that the delicious heat was suddenly gone, and cool air was now the only thing touching her nipples. “You’re so beautiful,” he growled.
She opened her eyes and saw him staring down at her, passion burning in his eyes, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his hands slid over her skin.
“God, Quinn, you’re perfect.”
The rough declaration was rasped against her breast as he pulled her upright and gently scraped his teeth against her nipple.
She scored her nails down his back and heard herself begging for more. Just…more.
Seconds later, he was gently laying her down on the couch.
And then ripping her skirt off.
If she thought his eyes had been hot with lust before, they were outright scorching now.
When his calloused fingers ran over her soaked core—close, but not close enough—she whimpered and he immediately stopped
.
“Are my hands too rough, baby?” he asked, voice heavy with concern.
“No,” she managed. “More.” She slid her thighs apart and felt herself get even more wet when he released a feral growl and brought his mouth down to her skin.
Still not close enough.
“Please, Rylan.”
His hands gripped her thighs. “Again,” he demanded roughly as his tongue swiped along her drenched flesh, dipping lower and causing him to release another rough sound from his chest as he tasted how much she wanted him. “Say my name again, sweetheart.”
She was floating in a riptide dragging her sanity away. With all the tenderness in the world, his work-roughened thumbs spread her wider for his gaze, his mouth.
“Again,” he breathed, right against her exposed sex and she nearly came right there, his question the last thing on her mind.
He slipped her legs over his shoulders and licked her mere inches away from where she needed to feel him.
Then he pushed two thick fingers deep into her and she screamed his name.
Just like that, an animal was unleashed. His mouth clamped down on her and sucked the last of her inhibitions right of out of her until finally, she was coming in his mouth.
A mindless mass of sensations, she found herself shattering through another orgasm just as devastating as the first when his tongue started to torment her in rhythm with the three fingers now plunging deep inside of her.
He didn’t stop until she was nearly whimpering in exhausted pleasure.
“Rylan.”
That was the best she could manage, but it was enough to signal he’d wrung her dry. He pulled back and slid her legs off his shoulders. Gentle kisses rained down on her thighs, soft murmurs against her skin she couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in her ears.
She felt the room tilt them before she was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, fingers massaging her scalp and a hot palm running up and down her back. Burrowing into the heat, she felt herself drift off and she tried her best to fight it.
“Sleep, baby. I’m not going anywhere. Just close your eyes and sleep.”