“So, wait.” A flash of understanding dawned in Luke’s stare. “You nursed your father through his illness by yourself? While you went to college at the same time?”
“Not entirely by myself, no. After that first semester, I wasn’t equipped to do everything on my own. He spent the last three months of his life in a long-term care facility. But I was there with him every day until he died.”
Quinn dropped her gaze to the coffee cup in her hands even though it was empty. Studying and grieving hadn’t been easy; hell, it had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. But she’d promised her father she wouldn’t stop. That she wouldn’t give up her dreams, even though they’d changed.
“I wanted to work with people who understood how short life can be, but pre-med was so cutthroat. There was no camaraderie at all, only competition. So that’s when I decided to switch over to emergency medicine and advanced paramedic training. After my very first ride-along, I knew that being a paramedic wouldn’t just give me the chance to help people. It gave me a place to belong.”
“And that’s why you’re so protective of everyone at Seventeen,” he murmured, and even though his nod weirdly said he understood the connection, Quinn’s pulse still knocked faster against her throat.
“I might not have anyone left who I’m related to, but Parker and Shae and Hawk and all those guys on engine and squad? They’re my family. I’d do anything to take care of them.”
“What about you?”
“What?” Her forehead creased in confusion.
But Luke’s expression was all matter-of-fact. “I get that you want to look out for everyone at Seventeen, and I get why. What I want to know is, who looks out for you, Quinn?”
She opened her mouth to answer. Stopped. Started again. “I’m a big girl. I don’t need anyone to look out for me.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asked. Quinn’s traitorous mind flashed back to the feel of his arms around her, holding her close. Telling her without words that she’d be okay. That she could breathe.
Just like she had to breathe now.
“Absolutely,” she said. He looked at her for a handful of seconds in that calm, unreadable way of his, but she stood her ground, looking back until he slid his chair from the table with a polite smile.
“Well, I’ll let you get on with your day. Those false alarms had us up a lot last night. I’m sure you want to catch up on your sleep. Thanks for the coffee, though.”
Quinn let go of the breath she just realized had been spackled to her lungs, standing up to walk him to the foyer. “Sure. Thanks for the doughnut.” She paused, her bare feet coming to a stop a few steps from the front door. “And thanks for stopping in to make sure I’m okay. It made me feel…” Less alone. Secure. Safe. “Well, it was just really nice of you. So thanks.”
“You said that.” His smile eased into teasing territory, his brows kicking up along with the corners of his mouth to form an expression that sent unrelenting heat right to her core.
Good Lord, she was losing it. “Right. Clearly I need some sleep.”
But she didn’t move, so neither did Luke, and, oh, screw it. She pressed forward, slipping her arms around his shoulders. It started out like just a regular hug, the kind she would exchange with Kellan or Shae or anyone else at Seventeen (except for Gamble, because yeah, the big, prickly lieutenant was so not a hugger). Only, after a handful of seconds, neither one of them made a move to break contact and step away, and Quinn couldn’t help herself from tightening her arms and shifting even closer.
Although now she and Luke were standing and unencumbered by the restraints of the floor of an SUV, their bodies fit together in all the places she remembered—her head beneath his chin, her shoulders on the warm plane of his chest, his arms around her rib cage. His heartbeat was steady and strong, although maybe a little fast against her cheek, and she breathed in the clean, subtly spicy smell of him as her body melted against his.
With his arms around her, she could breathe. And oh God, as crazy and counter-intuitive as it seemed, she wanted far more than for him to hold her. She wanted his hands in other places. Dirty places. Touching her and stroking her and thrusting between her thighs until she screamed.
Quinn’s breath caught on a sigh. She had enough knowledge of physiology to know it had to be a residual burst of adrenaline making her feel so strongly. This odd lust was fueled by a literal chemical reaction, and nothing more. But she’d been attracted to Luke before yesterday—for months, really. And right now, sitting here in the cocoon of her apartment with his solid, muscular arms wrapped around her, she felt safe. Good. Right.
Right now.
Pulling back just slightly, Quinn tipped her chin and flickered her stare to meet his. His mouth was an inch away from hers, two at most. She dropped her gaze to take in his firm lips, the light peppering of black stubble on his smooth, light brown skin.
“Quinn.” The word was a whisper, part permission, part affirmation.
She answered it by pressing her lips over his.
11
Luke should have been rational. Reasonable. Calm.
But Quinn’s mouth was on his, hot and needy, and fuck rational, reasonable, and calm.
He wanted to give her everything she was asking for.
Lifting his hands, he tunneled his fingers through her hair to hold her close. She made a little sound, just a quick burst of surprise in the back of her throat before her breath coalesced into a moan that had his dick responding with a whole lot of hell yes. Luke parted her lips with his tongue, fighting back a moan of his own when she answered by deepening the kiss. Quinn darted her tongue over his, tasting, taking, then retreating so she could start the maddening cycle all over again.
Her mouth was heaven. Or maybe it was pure sin. Either way, he wanted to spend all goddamned day finding out.
Quinn kissed him boldly, clutching his shoulders and running her teeth over his bottom lip. The move sent a shard of surprise, then realization, through his lust-fogged brain. As hot as kissing her was, it was probably the adrenaline from their situation yesterday making her—hell, making both of them reckless. He didn’t want to stop, but he hadn’t been raised to be a top-drawer asshole, either. He knew he’d never forgive himself if she didn’t forgive herself for this later.
“Quinn.” Luke broke from her mouth. “Are you sure—”
She answered by sliding both hands under his shirt and pressing forward to reclaim the sliver of space he’d put between them, and shit, he officially couldn’t think. “I’ve wanted to do this since I first laid eyes on you seven months ago,” she murmured against his lips. “Trust me. I’m very sure.”
Later, he’d take the time to unpack that statement. Right now?
He was going to keep kissing her. A lot.
Lowering his grip to her hips, Luke swung her around and walked her backward to the nearest flat surface, which just so happened to be her living room wall. Quinn’s shoulder blades bumped against the butter-colored expanse. She used the leverage to arch into his touch, her breasts swelling up to the round neckline of her tank top.
His cock jerked against the zipper of his shorts. Christ, she was so sexy like this, caught somewhere between soft and beautiful and fierce. Want blazed through Luke’s blood, both hot and unrepentant, urging his palms to travel up to cup her over the soft cotton.
“Oh God.” Quinn sighed her approval, pressing up to allow him better access. He took it—he might be turned on like fucking floodlights, but he damn sure wasn’t stupid—and his fingers tightened around her breasts.
“I’ve wanted this for a long time, too,” he said, his low, gravelly tone backing the words up all the way. He dragged his thumbs over the thin material beneath them. Her nipples stood out in hard relief against the fabric, the tight peaks pointed up and begging for more of his touch.
But before he could fully take in how pretty, how fucking perfect she looked beneath his hands, Quinn slid the straps of both her tank top and her bra fr
om her shoulders. Pinning him with a devastatingly sexy stare, she said, “Then take it.”
Luke’s heart slammed, his dick pulsing with every beat. Light blue cotton and sheer, white satin pooled over his fingers, which were still cupped beneath the curve of Quinn’s breasts. His fantasies about her nipples had been spot-on, the dark pink edges bared just enough to make him want to discover if she tasted as sweet as she looked.
Reaching out, she lifted his shirt over his head, then wasted no time letting her hands fall to his waistband.
“Hey, wait.” He wanted her too—badly enough for the pleasure to kiss the boundaries of pain—but… “Slow down.”
Quinn gave a frustrated moue. “I don’t want to slow down.” Her fingers closed over the button on his shorts, sliding the thing free. “I want you. Right here, right now.”
Shock chipped past the want in Luke’s chest, his instincts beginning to ping. “Standing up in the middle of your apartment?”
He was all for hot, spontaneous sex, he really was, and no strings? Even better. But suddenly her impulsiveness bordered on insistence, and her provocative little smile devolved into a defiant frown.
“Is there anything wrong with that?” she asked, and his answer slipped out, all truth.
“No. Nothing’s wrong with that. I just want to take my time with you.”
She exhaled over a joyless laugh, her blue eyes blazing as she looked up at him. “What’s the point in taking our time? You never know. We could die tomorrow.”
Luke stepped back on the floorboards. Damn it. Damn it. “Is that what this is about? You want me to fuck you against your living room wall so you can just live in the moment?”
“No. I don’t know. Maybe.” Quinn pressed her kiss-swollen lips into a hard line. Even pissed off, she was still gorgeous. “Come on. You can’t really tell me there’s no appeal to some down and dirty sex.”
Ah, she’s kind of got you there. Luke really couldn’t argue. He might not be the king of one-night stands, but sex without emotional attachments was pretty much his MO.
Funny, it seemed to apply to Quinn less and less the longer he stood here. “Listen, I really think we should talk about what happened yesterday.”
“I already told you, I don’t want to talk about yesterday,” she huffed. “In fact, I don’t want to waste time talking at all.”
Luke opened his mouth to argue with her—how could they not talk about this? But her stare brimmed with emotion, her shoulders tugged so tightly around her neck that she practically wore them like a shield. Quinn had righted her tank top and knotted her arms over her chest, probably as a defense mechanism—one he knew well, thank you very much—and for all her bravado and claims otherwise, she clearly wasn’t fine.
Yet her expression told him in no uncertain terms that pushing would get him exactly nowhere, just as it had yesterday when he’d tried to persuade her to call the police. Fighting her would only make her push harder to stand her ground. And Quinn was obviously rattled enough to believe that Ice would make good on his threats no matter what Luke said to try and convince her they’d be safe. That the right thing to do, the rational thing, would be to go to the cops.
Which meant his only option right now was to put her at arm’s length. Fast.
“We’ve been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours. It’s probably best if I just go,” he said, the words sharp and bitter in his mouth.
His unease multiplied at the chill on her face. “If that’s what you want.”
It wasn’t, of course. Christ, his cock was righteously indignant with him for having any conversation right now that didn’t involve the phrase “please let me take your panties off with my teeth”. What he wanted was to strip her bare and sink into the warm, wet heat of her pussy over and over until she screamed. To hold her afterward, to make good on the promise that they’d be okay if they went to the Thirty-Third and told Sergeant Sinclair everything that had happened to them yesterday. To erase the fear lurking in her dark blue eyes, once and for all.
But nothing about what he wanted was smart, or safe in any fucking way, so Luke did what he always did.
He walled off his emotions and fixed the problem in front of him.
“It is. I’ll see you at next shift.”
With that, he scooped his shirt from the floor, then turned and walked out of Quinn’s apartment.
One long-ass day and stupidly fitful night later, Luke was still disgruntled as hell. He’d weighed all the options. Thought through all the particulars no less than four thousand times. Measured the pros. The cons. The risks and the moral obligations of telling the cops what had happened versus staying quiet.
How could the right thing be the same thing that would make Quinn hate his fucking guts for the rest of all time?
Wow. His sister Hayley appeared in the doorway to the kitchen in the house she shared with Momma Billie, a sassy smile tugging at her mouth as she signed. That is an even more serious face than usual. Which is totally saying something for you, big brother.
“Thanks,” Luke said wryly, turning to be sure he was all the way in Hayley’s field of vision when he spoke. She preferred to lip read whenever possible since the majority of people didn’t know how to sign, and even though he obviously didn’t fall into that camp, he still wanted to respect what worked best for her. “I’m just tired from that extra half-shift I picked up on the fly last night. Are you ready for school?”
I have five weeks left to go in my senior year, Hayley signed, although her expression alone would’ve been plenty to get her disdain across. School is pretty much optional at this point. Most of my friends aren’t even going to their classes anymore.
Luke reached for the pot of coffee that Momma Billie always had on the burner, thanking the Almighty that she made the stuff strong enough to take the paint off his car. “Yeah, but your friends also don’t have a full scholarship to Remington University this fall. Something tells me you came out on top, there. And for the record, senior year or not, school’s not optional. You’re going.”
He stuck the words with enough of a brotherly smile that Hayley caved even as she rolled her eyes. Yeah, yeah. Education is important. I get it. And yes, I’m ready for school.
“Good. I can drop you off on my way home. Just let me know when you want to roll out.”
Hayley grinned, running a hand over her bright red T-shirt that read “Life Happens. Tacos Help” and grabbing a package of Pop-Tarts from the box on the counter. Door to door service, she signed after putting her breakfast in her backpack. I could get used to that. Let me grab my shoes and we can get moving.
Unable to shake his protective instincts, Luke kept his eyes on her until she’d disappeared down the hallway leading to the front of the house. Momma Billie took Hayley’s place in the entryway to the kitchen, her gracefully graying head tilted in a way that said she saw the weariness he’d been trying like hell to hide.
“You look tired,” she said, not unkindly.
Duck and cover. Do it right now. “You, on the other hand, look beautiful.” He gestured to her blue and white flowered dress and her stylish but sensible shoes. “You’ll be the prettiest lady working at the power company today.”
“Hmm.” Momma Billie clucked her tongue, but she couldn’t hide the smile poking at the edges of her mouth. “If you know what’s right for you, you’ll save that sweet talk for a young lady instead of wasting it on an old woman.”
Yeah, there were so many land mines in that sentence, Luke didn’t even know where to swerve. “It’s not sweet talk if it’s true. Anyway, I just look tired because I picked up an extra half-shift last night. But I wanted to stop by and check on you two before I go home for some sleep.”
He’d moved out of the house last year in order to spare his sister and grandmother the odd hours of his fire house schedule. He’d done it reluctantly, but Momma Billie had all but shooed him out the door, going on about how he deserved to have a personal life. Luke didn’t have the heart to tel
l her that since one had to actually get personal with someone else in order to have a personal life, he wouldn’t be doing that anytime soon. Or, you know. Ever.
“Hmm,” she hummed again, which meant nothing good for Luke. “You’ve been checking on us a lot over the last couple of days. Everything okay in that head of yours?”
“Of course.”
He bit back a wince. His default wasn’t usually a bald-faced whopper. But since it was better than confessing he’d been kidnapped at gunpoint and was now wrestling with the mother of all moral dilemmas as a result, bending the truth would have to serve.
“I worry about you,” Momma Billie said in that matter-of-fact way of hers. “So serious, like an old soul. You’ve always had so much on your shoulders.”
The unspoken ever since your mother died and your father did the unthinkable hung heavy in the air between them, and shit, maybe the kidnapping conversation would be less messy.
“You don’t need to worry,” he said, but it only made her expression grow more stern.
“Luke Matthew, you might as well tell the sun not to rise. Grown man or not, you walk around with a look like that on your face and I’m going to fuss at you.”
Luke’s stomach knotted. Her wielding his middle name meant they were at the Slater family’s version of DEFCON three. If he didn’t reassure her, her concern would only escalate. “I promise, everything’s okay.” Well, it would be. Once he figured it the fuck out. “I’ve been assigned to work on the ambulance for a while, and my partner, Quinn, and I had kind of a tough shift the day before yesterday. That’s all.”
Is Quinn a girl? Hayley signed, having popped back into the kitchen just in time to lip-read what he’d said, and great, this conversation had just turned into quicksand. She is, isn’t she! I bet she’s pretty.
God, he had to stick with the truths he could tell and kill this conversation. Fast. “Quinn is a woman, yes. She’s also my boss.”
Your pretty boss. You’re blushing!
“Hayley Marie, put your manners on,” Momma Billie murmured, and Hayley ducked her head, although her grin didn’t subside.
In Too Deep: Station Seventeen Book 3 Page 11