“You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Quinn nods shakily and nervously licks her cherry red pout. I groan out loud. She’s fecking killing me, and she doesn’t even realize it. There’s nothing I want more than to get inside her, to mark her as mine. But that can’t happen, because she’s not.
She’s not mine.
“Now, tell me why you were running like a bat out of hell,” I instruct.
She tries to take a step back, but I hold her in place. She’s not going anywhere until she talks to me. She shakes her head dismissively and rolls her eyes in an attempt to downplay her fear.
“It’s nothing. I thought I was being followed, but I’m just being paranoid.”
I clench my jaw so hard, I wouldn’t be surprised if my goddamn teeth break. Her father is gone, so who the feck would be following her?
Well, other than me.
“Who.” It’s not a question. Quinn looks behind her once more, while trying to wiggle out of my grasp.
“Quinn!” My tone has her head snapping back in my direction, her expression shocked.
“Can we just go inside first?” she hisses out. I direct her into Hot N’ Bothered by her upper arm and drag her little ass all the way up the stairs, ignoring the curious looks from nosy bastards, and into the only empty office here. Jade’s in her old office again, seeing how she’s visibly pregnant and Cole doesn’t want her working at all, let alone as a bartender. Having her do administrative work was their compromise.
I slam the door shut and cage Quinn against it, my arms on either side of her head.
“Talk.” I can feel it starting to take over. The need to hurt someone. To make them pay. She swallows hard, and I watch the movement in her neck. Without even thinking, I wrap my hand around it loosely, stroking the slender column with my thumb. Her chest is heaving, her breathing speeding up, but this time it’s not in fear. I may not be able to read people, their thoughts or feelings—however, Quinn is the exception. I can sense Quinn’s thoughts and feelings as my own. Perhaps it’s because I spend so much time watching her, or perhaps we are simply the same.
“We match.” Her soft, throaty voice is barely audible over the bass of whatever shite music is playing downstairs.
“Our eyes,” she clarifies, seeing the confusion on my face. “We have the same greyish-blue eyes. You even have the little flecks of green in them. We match.” Her lips quirk up into a little half-smile and she shrugs, my hand still gripping her throat. She’s right about the color, but her eyes are far more beautiful—almond shaped and framed by long, thick eyelashes—but, I’m beginning to think we match on the inside, too.
Is she trying to distract me?
“Quinn. Explain.” My voice is almost begging. I hate it, but not enough to think before I talk to her. Everything I do when it comes to this woman is based on instinct.
She rolls her eyes, realizing I’m not going to give up.
“I told you. I’m just jumpy and a little skittish since he came back.” She bites her lip and looks away. She’s not telling me something.
“He is also fecking dead. He can’t hurt you anymore. Do I need to take care of someone?”
Her eyes widen at my insinuation. I’ve killed for her before, without a second thought. I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.
“Jesus, Carter, no! You do realize that offing people isn’t the solution to everything, right?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Debatable.”
“There’s no one to…er…take care of. My father was indebted to a lot of people. Bad people. I keep waiting for one of them to come looking for me or something.” She’s still not telling me something. If someone touched one single hair on Quinn’s head, or even so much as breathed the same air as her, I’d snap their goddamn neck.
“Give me your phone.”
Quinn looks slightly confused, but hands me her phone without question. Good girl. The tips of my fingers graze her wrist as she slowly pulls her hand away. She’s so damn soft. I flip the phone over to program my number into it and see that she already had 911 dialed, ready to hit Send if necessary. She doesn’t need the fecking cops. She needs a Savage. Specifically, me.
“You don’t walk to or from work alone, you hear me? And if you ever think you’re in danger, even if it’s just a feeling, you call me. Not the goddamn police. Not your friends. Me.”
In response, Quinn flattens her tiny hands on my chest and slowly slides them up to snake around my neck. My dick tries to break through my pants at the feel of her touching me. She licks her lips, and I squint my eyes at the sight. I’m about two seconds away from throwing her ass on the floor and fucking her senseless. But, I can’t. I won’t. Jade and Cole may have given me my confidence back, but Quinn isn’t just any girl. She is the girl. The only one I even see. I saw what her father did to her, and the things he said to her. I couldn’t treat her like a bloody cum bucket. But, feck me, I want to feel her from the inside.
My eyes are still shut tight, hands clenched at my sides, willing images of her soft, curvy body out of my mind when I feel it. Her lips on mine. I don’t usually kiss the women I sleep with. Besides the fact that it’s unsanitary, kissing feels more…intimate. But this is the second time Quinn has kissed me, and when her tongue licks the seam of my lips, shyly seeking entrance, I. Lose. Control.
Quinn pulls away from the kiss abruptly, as if she surprised even herself with her boldness, but I grab the back of her neck and claim her mouth with mine. She tastes like strawberries and cream, and I want to find out if she tastes like that everywhere. I slide my hand down her back to that perfect arse and squeeze. Quinn moans into my mouth and jumps up to wrap her legs around my waist. Acting purely on instinct, I grip her bottom and back her up against the door once more. She rocks her hips against my rock-hard cock, and I can feel her warmth even through my jeans. I grind back into her heat, and her head falls back on a gasp. Her neck and cheeks are flushed, her plump lips are parted, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my entire goddamn life.
“More, Carter,” she begs in her raspy, lust-filled voice. She reaches behind her and slides my hand up to cup her full breast. Softly, I graze my thumb across her hardened nipple over the fabric of her shirt. I duck my head down and swipe my tongue across it before catching it between my teeth. Quinn gasps and holds me in place by the back of my head. Her half shirt hangs off one shoulder, and I pull back just long enough to yank it down and free her tits. They’re gorgeous, slightly fuller on the bottom, with light pink, puffy nipples. I suck one into my mouth while her legs come undone from behind my back and she slides down my body. I bend with her, not breaking our connection, while she tries to claw my jacket from me. As soon as my jacket falls to the floor, she reaches for my belt. What the fuck am I doing? I can’t taint her. I’m poison, and she’s perfection.
“Quinn, you don’t want this—”
BANG, BANG, BANG!
Pounding at the door cuts off my protests. Quinn’s kaleidoscope eyes dart to mine, wide with panic, as she attempts to straighten out her shirt. I motion for her to get behind the door with a nod of my chin. No one else gets to see her like this. I take my time retrieving my jacket and smoothing it out, trying to give my dick a chance to calm down.
“Come on, lover boy! I know you’re in there. Sorry to be a cock block, but G called an emergency meeting.” Fecking Sinclair. The bastard keeps inching toward the top of my shit list, but I can’t deny that part of me is grateful for the interruption, so I don’t have to confront the flash of rejection I saw on Quinn’s face.
“I, uh, need to get to work anyway,” Quinn mumbles, avoiding eye contact, as she tucks her auburn locks behind her ear.
She opens the door to find Sin standing there with one arm propped on the doorframe, a cheesy grin painted on his face. He senses the awkward moment and wiggles his eyebrows at Quinn suggestively. I clear my throat and shoot him a warning glare. I want to say something—anything—to her. To stop her from walking out like this
. But we have an audience. Without acknowledging Sinclair, or even so much as a backward glance in my direction, she dips under his arm and scurries back downstairs.
Sinclair returns his expectant gaze toward me, and in response, I slam the door in his face. Graham can wait.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I mutter aloud as I slam two shot glasses down for a couple of faceless customers. I’m on autopilot, serving with a smile, but all I can think about is Carter. I don’t know what came over me. One minute he’s getting all alpha male and controlling, and the next, I’m kissing him like our plane is going down. It’s pathetic, really. In my fucked-up head, concern for my safety somehow equals romantic feelings. Normal people would take it for what it is—basic human decency—but I’ve concocted this ridiculous fantasy in my mind. But that kiss? That kiss didn’t feel one-sided. Last night definitely didn’t feel one-sided. I felt his need for me. Carter is reserved. He comes off a little unsure, but once our bodies do the talking, all of that melts away. His movements are confident and smooth, bold and rough. The way his hands felt on me—I shake the thought out of my head and attempt to focus on work.
The club is packed tonight, but the tension is tangible. The vibe is off. The mood has shifted. All the Savages are meeting with Graham, except for two of the younger dudes who showed up with Sin a while back. One of them is posted up at the entrance, the other at one of the emergency exits. I think one of them is Stiles. I only know that, because Selene has been actively ignoring his advances since the day he got here. He’s nothing if not persistent. I’ll give him that much. They’re glancing around suspiciously, and it’s making me even jumpier than usual.
What is going on here tonight?
Hands come around my face from behind and cover my eyes, and I practically jump out of my skin until I hear the familiar voice.
“Surprise!” Jade turns me around and pulls me in for a squeeze. “Whoa, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She feels my forehead with the back of her hand. “Are you sick?”
I slap her hand away playfully and school my expression. I need to get it together.
“I’m fine! What are you doing here? I thought Cole had you on lockdown,” I squeal excitedly and paint the smile back on my face. It’s not totally insincere, though. I really am excited to see Jade.
She cocks an eyebrow and gives me a devilish smirk. “I may or may not have snuck out.”
I spit out a genuine laugh at that one. “You snuck out. To…here? You do realize he’s here now, right?”
Jade’s bottom lip juts out in a little pout. I turn to greet another guest and take their order. When I turn back around, I see Slaughterhouse Savage himself stalking toward her, looking none too pleased.
“Well, duh. I want to keep him on his toes, not give him a reason to kill me. He’s been extra protective lately. I think something is going on, and he won’t tell me what it is. But, I’m so bored, I just had to get out of the house. I figure he can’t be too mad since I’m technically with him. He just doesn’t know it.” She smirks as she plucks a cherry out of the garnish bar.
“Can’t argue with that logic,” I tease while not so subtly jerking my eyes to the caveman behind her.
“He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”
“Yup.”
“Busted,” she grumbles like a five-year-old as he wraps his arms around her from behind and holds her pregnant belly.
“So fucking busted, Butterfly.”
“How’d you know?”
“You do realize there are cameras here, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“And I can track your phone.”
“You still do that?”
“Not to mention, a sixth sense when it comes to you and my child…”
Jade gives me an apologetic look as she’s dragged away and calls over her shoulder, “I tried! Come see me at home before I’m forced to do something drastic like clean.”
I gasp in mock horror. “You wouldn’t!”
“Don’t make me do it, Quinn. I’m that bored.”
“Let’s not get crazy. I’ll be there.” I laugh and shake my head at her ridiculousness.
Jade gives me hope. After all she’s been through with her crazy ass ex, she still found happiness. True happiness. But, hope is maybe even more dangerous than fear. And I’d do well to remember that.
I didn’t see Carter again at Hot N’ Bothered. I thought after earlier, he might want to walk me home. I tried to stall by wiping down the bar extra thoroughly, and even swept, mopped, and took out the trash. But at three a.m., I finally called it a night. He said not to walk home alone, but who the hell else was awake at that hour? Plus, he’s not my keeper. So, I walked home—okay, maybe I ran a little—and locked the door behind me. I took Gia out to go potty on the little patch of fake grass on my patio and made myself a bowl of Ramen noodles. I poked at my noodles, feeling sorry for myself and wondering why Carter even bothered to give me the whole spiel about walking alone if he clearly doesn’t care.
I considered getting dolled up, just in case he decided to show up again, but my pride wouldn’t let me. I opted for an oversized T-shirt and snuggled up on the couch with a copy of 44 Chapters about 4 Men by BB Easton for the sake of levity. This bitch might be even crazier than I am.
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, but the creaking of my floorboards has my eyes shooting open. Before I can even get out a scream, a hand is slapped over my mouth while another squeezes my throat. A rough, low voice growls out at my ear.
“I thought I told you that you were never to walk home by yourself.”
If I have to stand here for one more bloody second, I’m going to strangle Graham myself. This little meet has gone on long enough. I’m burning a goddamn hole in the carpet of Graham’s office while they discuss our next move.
The Lucky Lucianos are at it again, trying to blackmail the businesses we work with and ask for protection money. They’ve already burned down two bars on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. The owners were pissed, and rightly so. They pay a ridiculous amount of money every month to Graham, trusting he’d keep them safe. The Italians are making the Irish look bad.
When I was a wee boy, Ma always told me that Italians were the worst. “They think that they’re more Catholic than us,” she cackled and brought her drink to her lips. She was a bit of an alcoholic and a lot of a whore. I can’t tell you how many times I was locked in a closet when her male companions decided to come around. Sometimes for days. But I preferred it in there, because she forgot about me. It was when I got in her way that she was truly terrifying. Out of sight, out of mind. She had black hair. Long and curly. So ever since I was little, the combination has turned me off. I reckon that’s why I only sleep with blondes. “But the truth is, the Italians are not better than us, Carter. They’re just crazier. But that’s enough for them to win. They always win.”
I think Graham might share Ma’s sentiment, because he is talking with his hands a lot, pacing from one corner of the room to another. Sin is staring him down like he owns this office, and I wonder if Graham knows what Sin is thinking about. Because I do. I was onto him the minute he set foot in this place.
He doesn’t want to take part. He wants to take over. For now, I’ll watch. And if Graham doesn’t see it on his own, I’ll step in.
Right now, though, I couldn’t care less. I tuned out a long time ago. The Lucky Lucianos will pay, but I need to get to Quinn. Sin and the rest of the fecking Brady Bunch start to clear out, and I take that as my cue to bail. Cole’s hand on my shoulder stops me right before I make my getaway.
“You okay, man?” Cole’s concerned eyes scan my face. For what, I’m not sure. Ever since he and Jade moved out of the apartment, I’ve been better. It’s cleaner. Neat. Less chaotic.
“Dandy,” I reply dryly. He raises an eyebrow and glances over to Graham, who’s sitting on the edge of his desk with his arms folded across his chest and his ankles crossed, looking mildly amused and even less conce
rned.
Well, maybe he’s not that upset about the Italians, after all.
“You’re acting like more of a weirdo than usual. Just making sure you’re good.”
“Thanks, Ma,” I groan.
“Don’t be a prick, Carter,” Cole snaps, and I feel a slight morsel of guilt. He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ve got, but I’m defensive and on edge.
“I need your head in the game, Carter. We’ve got a war coming with the Italians, and I can’t have you off in la-la land. No distractions. That gonna be a problem?” Graham slaps me on the back with an expression that dares me to cross him. If Cole is like a brother to me, Graham is like a father. One that I want to punch in the face at times.
“I’m straight,” I grit out, shrugging his hand off my back. “I just have somewhere I need to be.”
They both exchange a look, and I roll my eyes before walking out. I can only imagine what’s going through their minds, but I don’t have time for this shit right now.
After storming downstairs, searching the entire club, and interrogating another bouncer, I found out that Quinn wasn’t at Hot N’ Bothered. I rushed to her house, on a mission to teach her a lesson. I specifically told her not to walk home alone. I told myself if she were alive when I got there, I’d kill her myself for being such a goddamn idiot.
Now, I stand in her doorway while she sleeps for the second night in a row. She looks as if she doesn’t have a care in the world, curled up on the couch. Does she think it’s funny to scare me like that? I stalk over to her, and right before I reach her, she stirs, then freezes. I slap my hand over her mouth so she won’t scream. I hate loud noises.
Quinn starts to struggle, but when I whisper into her ear, she relaxes.
“I thought I told you that you were never to walk home by yourself.” She shakes her head, and her silver eyes that glow like the moon grow wide. “You need to be punished, don’t you, Quinny?” To my surprise, she nods in agreement. That’s all the permission I need. With one hand still covering her face, I use my other one to snatch up her T-shirt and feel between her thighs. No knickers. I shove two fingers into her, roughly, and she moans into my hand. Her eyes roll back.
Savage Savior (Savage People Book 3) Page 4