Homecoming

by Lacey Baker

  All thoughts of age and sisters and the cloak of the small town they were in faded. His focus was solely on her dampened folds. With one finger that he wasn’t willing to admit shook just slightly, he touched her there, heard her intake of breath and licked his lips longingly. She felt like velvet, hot, soft, pliant. He touched along both sides, dragging his finger slowly upward to press against the hood of her vagina. He found the tightened pearl and rubbed it adoringly. Below him her head thrashed. She called his name, and Quinn closed his eyes to the pleasure.

  “Sweet Nikki,” he whispered, letting his thumb massage her bud, his fingers slipping through her wetness to plunge into her waiting center.

  “Oh God, Quinn!” she yelled, and the sound simply speared him on.

  He thrust his finger deeper, rubbed with his thumb with more persistence. She rotated her hips, meeting his thrusts.

  “Yes, just like that, baby,” he told her, his hips jerking with the motion.

  “Quinn, I need…” Her words trailed off and he used his other hand to reach up under her shirt.

  Pushing aside the lace front of her bra he found her waiting nipple and pinched slightly before cupping her entire breast. She grabbed his wrist, holding his hand firmly against her breast. He thrust his finger in and out of her with more urgency, the pain of his erection pressing against the zipper of his pants. He wanted … no, he desperately needed relief.

  “I need, too, Nikki. Oh God, do I need.” The words were wrenched from him as he struggled to hold on just a second longer. That’s all Nikki needed.

  She tightened her thighs and grabbed the sheets tightly in her fists.

  “Is that what you need, baby? Is that it?” he asked, staring down into her pretty face, cheeks flushed with arousal, eyes clouded with the rush of release.

  She didn’t answer verbally; Quinn wasn’t sure she could. But her head thrashed as her body stopped the mild quaking motion. He slipped his hand slowly from her, loving the feel of her essence along his fingers. Gently, because her breath was still coming in quick pants, he pulled her shirt up and over her head. With a quick motion he unhooked her bra and pushed it from her arms. Without a doubt he was going to lower his head, his tongue immediately licking still-puckered nipples. He felt her hands at the back of his head, holding him there, pushing him closer.

  She was so desirable, so willing and seemingly uninhibited that Quinn could do nothing more than groan. This was the woman he’d thought was an innocent—or at least innocent as far as he was concerned. He’d tried to look at her as a little sister, but that had been futile. And now that he’d seen her in a different light, he’d never be able to go back. Gripping her other breast in his hand as he continued to suckle its twin, his mind sighed once more: Never.

  And now, that’s what his next thought was: Now!

  Reluctantly he pulled away from her. “One sec, baby. Just give me one second.”

  His fingers fumbled over his buckle. Yes, he was thirty-six years old and way past his first sexual experience, but his fingers were shaking as he tried to undo the belt.

  “Let me,” she said, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and reaching for his belt.

  She smiled up at him while pushing his hands away.

  “Mighty Quinn Cantrell, it’s okay if you’re not in control all the time,” she told him.

  But really Quinn could hardly decipher what she was saying to him. All he knew was that he needed to be inside her sooner much rather than later. If that could be achieved by her undressing him, so be it.

  Her fingers were surprisingly steady considering the orgasm she’d just had. But she undid his belt, pushed down the zipper of his pants, then reached inside and wrapped her fingers around him.

  “Did you think you were the only one who liked to touch?” she asked.

  His answer was to grab the hem of his T-shirt and pull it quickly over his head.

  “You can touch all you want,” he told her. “Just hurry up!”

  She smiled and pushed his pants and boxers down his legs. “You still have your shoes on.”

  Quinn cursed and bent over to get them off. He finished the deed with his pants and pushed her back onto the bed in a swift motion. They both laughed as his hands wrapped around her, squeezing her butt cheeks in his palms.

  “I can’t believe we’re going to do this,” she said, her smile faltering only slightly.

  He lowered his head to hers, kissed her lips, then licked over them twice, until she was breathless.

  “We’re definitely doing this,” he told her. Then he cursed and let her go as fast as he’d pushed her down.

  She made a sound of surprise as he took to the floor to find his pants, then riffled through his pockets to find the gold packet that would forever be his lifesaver. He sheathed himself with her eyes fixated on his erection, his hands moving over his length. Then she licked her lips, while she watched, and Quinn thought he was going to blow right then and there.

  * * *

  Wow.

  No, wait a minute, that didn’t seem to actually describe how good he looked naked.

  Wow!

  Yes, that was much better.

  Quinn Cantrell was standing in her bedroom. He was a little over six feet tall, honey-toned skin, dark eyes, great smile, tight muscled ass, and the rest … well, let’s just say her mouth never watered … ever. Until now. Until Quinn.

  A part of her wondered if she should be nervous, but Nikki ignored that. Instead she reached for him, extended her arms and welcomed the feel of his strong shoulders beneath her hands. He spread her legs and her heart beat a little faster. She felt the tip of him touch her center and she wanted to scream, or writhe, which is what she ended up doing.

  He moaned and inside she smiled. He wanted her. Quinn Cantrell really wanted her.

  She lifted her hips a bit because for a man with wants he was moving kind of slow. Or maybe it was just too slow for her at the moment. When he entered her it was quick and complete. She gasped and he moaned and they both remained perfectly still for endless moments.

  He set the pace; she immediately followed, loving the feel of him so thick and sensuous inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he plunged deeper, her nails scraping along his back as delicious ripples of pleasure soared through her. It was a repeat of the feeling she’d had minutes ago when he was touching and suckling her. She hadn’t thought she would recover from that, but damn if she wasn’t gearing up for another ride.

  “Quinn,” she whispered in a shaky voice as her body lifted to his, then shattered in a million pieces because of his.

  Her release must have triggered his because it was only seconds later that he murmured, “Sweet, sweet Nikki,” into the crook of her neck. But it sounded anything but sweet. Instead it sounded like regret.

  Chapter 14

  The very first thing Nikki realized when she rolled over after sleeping like the dead for who knew how long was that this was not how sex was two years ago.

  Of course, there had been more fundamental differences in this experience. The man. The moment. The location. The man.

  The man who was lying on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, while she—the woman—had half her body sprawled over his. Her palm resting on his chest, which had minimal hair—something she silently thanked the heavens for. Her thigh was thrown over his; her toes, when they wiggled, rubbed along muscled calves that did have a light spray of hair that felt kind of sexy when she actually thought about it.

  Her bedroom was dark. There was only one window besides the one in the living room and luckily it was in her bedroom. She’d hung a plain cotton turquoise curtain there because it seemed to match the geometric bedspread’s rainbow of colors. His chest moved up and down, a slow rhythm that she thought her heartbeat now matched. He was a big man, which was a surprise since he didn’t look all that big when completely dressed. Tall, yes, and fit, she’d known that just by the way his suit had looked on him as he made his way into the church. B
ut these muscles, the tight abs, bulging biceps, even his hands had strength, she thought with a sigh as memories of him gripping her bottom sent pangs of lust right to her center.

  She’d had sex with Quinn Cantrell. A smile tickled her lips and she shifted ever so slightly closer to him, daring this to be a dream.

  “You’re asking for trouble, young lady,” the deep voice echoed above her.

  “And if I ask, will I receive?” It was a brave question, a bold and almost uncharacteristically ambitious one on her part. But Nikki figured he was here and so was she; their clothes were somewhere else, and it was still night. What the hell, they might as well make the best of their time together. Because who knew what would happen come morning. Regrets, recriminations, apologies—anything was possible.

  “You shall definitely receive,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her until she was on top of him. “Just let me know when you’ve had enough.”

  He’d taken her face in his hands, pulling her down so that his lips were just inches from hers. “I’ll keep that in mind,” was her reply before she nipped his bottom lip.

  He gave a light slap to her behind and Nikki yelped. Yes, it was probably the most unsexy sound she’d ever heard, but she did it and he chuckled. “Like that, huh?”

  When he did it again she moaned, spread her legs, and settled over him, feeling the persistent nudge of his arousal at her center.

  “I like that.”

  And she liked being on top of him, guiding his thick erection into her waiting core, setting the pace for this next round of lovemaking. Because for Nikki, that’s exactly what this was. It was the dream that she’d never thought would come true, the experience she’d figured she’d never know.

  He held her hips tightly, thrusting upward to meet the pump and sway of her hips. Her hands rested first on his chest then, when she sat straight up, gripped her breasts, tweaking her own nipples in the same way he’d done before.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered and a blush spread throughout her body.

  Her breath came in quick pants as he seemed to press deeper inside her, filling her until she thought they might have been born connected. The air around her was thick with their scents, filled with the sound of his moans of pleasure, her gasps of surprise to be followed by his name on her lips like lyrics to some intense love song.

  For the duration of the night, Nikki had asked and received. Quinn gave and he accepted. His whispers of her beauty, his pleasure, her acquiescence, his undying need, all filtered through her like the finest of wines, the best of miracles.

  It was everything good and everything equally terrifying—as she would discover all too soon.

  * * *

  “I thought you were dying to get out of town,” Preston asked on a bright sunny morning in the kitchen of The Silver Spoon.

  “That was then, this is now,” was Savannah’s flippant reply.

  “Something happen to change your mind?” Parker asked this time.

  “Is this a tag team?” Savannah shot back. Then she looked up, saw Quinn coming through the back door, and frowned. “Oh, no, it’s a triple team.”

  Preston and Parker turned to see Quinn. It was just after nine in the morning. He’d been back at the B&B since around four thirty when he’d left Nikki’s very warm and equally welcoming bed to come home and walk his puppy so she wouldn’t pee on yet another rug, or perhaps his bed since he wasn’t there to put her out of it. And Dixi had been waiting, tail wagging while her paws pushed his hairbrush around on the floor. How she’d gotten that out of his suitcase, Quinn still wasn’t sure. But today was going to be her first lesson in boundaries.

  “Good morning,” he said with a smile nobody returned. Well, Parker had a smirk, but Quinn figured it was best to ignore that, at least for now. “What seems to be the problem now?”

  “No problem. None of anybody’s business. I’m staying in Sweetland for a couple more days, maybe a week … or two,” Savannah said, speaking more into her cup of coffee than to the three men standing there staring at her.

  Parker looked at Preston, who deferred to Quinn, who decided only to shrug. He knew there was something going on with Savannah, didn’t know what, but knew better than to push.

  “That’s a good idea. You could get some rest, maybe help Michelle out a bit,” Quinn said, then almost bit off his own tongue.

  “Help Michelle do what? She’s perfect, you know? She doesn’t need any help,” Savannah raved.

  “Whatever the case, if you’re staying a while and I’m not leaving until this mess with Nikki is cleared up, then we’d better all talk about making other accommodations. Guests are checking in on Friday,” Quinn told them.

  “How do you know that?” Savannah asked with a frown. She’d been wearing that expression quite a bit lately.

  “Nikki told me a sorority reunion is booked for the weekend. Which means we can’t all be here taking up rooms.”

  “I have a case I need to prepare for,” Preston began. “But I wanted to unload the puppy before I went back.”

  “I took two weeks off, was thinking of heading down south after this,” Parker added.

  “Move into the caretaker’s suite,” Michelle said, pushing her way backward through the swinging door to the kitchen.

  Savannah made a tsking sound. “Were you listening at the door?”

  Michelle put down the two bags full of groceries she’d been carrying, glaring at Savannah over the tops. “No, as usual you’re too loud.

  “If you guys are staying for a while,” she continued, her voice obviously lighter since this was no doubt what she’d wanted all along, “Quinn, you and the twins can take the caretaker’s suite. It has a private bathroom, the master bedroom, and a sitting room that has a sofa bed.”

  “Three guys and two beds,” Preston began. “Not a good match.”

  “Two beds and a couch. You want to draw straws?” she asked with a smile.

  “No need,” Preston added. “I’ll take the couch since I need to get back to Baltimore this weekend anyway.”

  “What about Nikki?” Quinn asked.

  “I can handle that from there and if it comes down to it I’m only an hour and a half away. But I think that’s going to go away fairly soon,” Preston answered.

  “What’s going to go away? What happened to Nikki?” Savannah asked, concern edging out the bitterness in her voice.

  Quinn obviously wasn’t the only one to hear it because everyone in the kitchen stopped to stare at her.

  “What? She’s my best friend. I mean, she was my best friend. And now she works for us, practically lives here like family, and … whatever. What happened to her?”

  It was going to be common knowledge by noon anyway, if it wasn’t already. If Quinn walked into the restaurant right now he’d more than likely overhear someone talking about it over their morning coffee.

  “Randall Davis was found dead yesterday. Police were at Nikki’s door to question her when she got home,” Quinn stated simply.

  But it wasn’t a simple matter. In his mind it was ludicrous, but for Nikki’s sake he wanted it over and done with, sooner rather than later.

  “Oh my God,” Michelle sighed. “That poor girl. Didn’t that bastard put her through enough? Is she here yet?”

  “No, she’s not in yet,” Quinn answered quickly.

  Too quickly by the looks he received.

  “They only came looking her way because she was easy. Her number was in his cell phone because he’d called her yesterday morning. She has an airtight alibi and he was killed in Easton. They know they have to look someplace else,” Parker said, opening the refrigerator for Michelle, who had been holding two gallons of milk and standing completely still.

  “They think Nikki killed some guy?” Savannah asked.

  “Not some guy, her ex,” Preston stated.

  “Her ex that was an ass,” Quinn added. He’d moved to the coffeepot and grabbed himself a mug. Just as he was pouring he h
eard the silence, which was never good where his siblings were concerned.

  “And why did you say she wasn’t in yet?” Michelle asked, her voice suspicious.

  There was a pot of creamer right beside the coffeepot, its dainty white handle just like the one Gramma used to use. It sat inside a bowl of ice and Quinn momentarily wondered how Michelle knew to take care of every detail, every damned time. Maybe she was perfect, as Savannah said.

  “I don’t know why because I’m not Nikki,” he answered when he’d fixed his coffee to his liking and turned to face what looked like a sad rendition of the firing squad.

  Preston and Savannah were both sitting at the table staring at him. Parker was closing the refrigerator, and Michelle was standing near the island with her arms folded.

  “But you know she’s not here. Strange,” Michelle noted quietly.

  “Any of you would know she’s not here if you checked her office.” Or if you’d spent the night having sex with her and told her to sleep in when you’d left her tired and completely sated about four and a half hours ago.

  Quinn’s cell phone was his saving grace as its loud ring echoed throughout the kitchen. Pulling it from his hip, he looked down and weighed the options. Stand here and continue to be scrutinized by his siblings—which could not possibly end well—or take the call from Elena and get more grief about the clinic. He opted for what he thought was the lesser of two evils.

  “Excuse me,” he said, leaving the kitchen.

  * * *

  “The funding didn’t come through,” Elena told him the moment he answered.

  Quinn cursed.

  “What about The Transor Group, did they answer?”