by Stacy Gail
Her face went from pink to red. “Those details weren’t yours to share, Quinn. No one has the right to know about Jackson, or why I was traveling to Seattle, or anything else about me, because those things are private.”
“Not anymore. Mia,” he went on when she let out an alarming sound torn between a whistling teakettle and a glass-shattering shriek. “Calm down, okay? Geez, you’re acting like it’s the end of the world that my family’s interested in getting to know who you are.”
“That’s not what I’m upset about.” She dragged her hands through her hair in a way that gave him the distinct impression she wanted to pull it out. “There are boundaries, Quinn. Specific frigging boundaries that you just blew through like they weren’t even there. How would you feel if our roles were reversed and I told my aunt every last little detail that I know about you and Lorette?”
“That’s cool with me. Feel free.”
“Ugh.” She began to pace in front of him, again raking her hands through her hair. “I can’t believe that I have to explain that there are such things as subjects that you don’t talk about with other people, and that you should respect the sensitive nature of those subjects as well as the privacy of the person those subjects deal with. So let’s just make this simple. My life—especially the parts that deal with Jackson—are strictly off-limits to everyone, okay?”
“No, that’s not okay,” he said, beginning to frown. “Especially making the qualification that the subject of your ex is off-limits. I don’t like that at all.”
She didn’t stop her pacing as she threw him a scorching glance. “Why should that matter to you?”
“It matters, because it tells me it’s still a sore spot for you.”
“Exactly!”
“Lorette cutting me out of her life is no longer a sore spot for me, Mia,” he said, and that seemed to have enough weight behind it to make her come to a halt and stare at him. “I’m not carrying around that baggage anymore. I can now see it for what it was—a shitty time in my life where I had to learn a few hard lessons and grow the hell up so I could move on and find something better. The second I woke up to the fact that I’d let it all go, Lorette and everything that had to do with her stopped mattering to me. So I want to know, when are you going to let your baggage go? Because as long as you hold onto it, that asshole still matters to you.”
From crackling with furious energy, she was suddenly so still it was like she’d frozen over. “Jackson was a part of my life for a long time.”
“I get that. Lorette had me for even longer.”
“You’ve had two years to put all that behind you. I’ve had a few days.”
“Wrong. You’ve had seven months, so don’t give me any of that few days shit.”
She hissed like an angry cat. “That’s not shit. It’s the truth.”
“No, the truth is that in your heart, you knew it was over long before that asshole announced he was marrying some other woman.”
“I knew for certain it was over only a few days—”
“Red, if that was actually the case, you never would have tumbled into my bed immediately after that jackhole confirmed you guys were done. And you know how I know that? Because you’re loyal. God, you’re loyal to a fucking fault, holding on until the very last, even when you know there’s no reason to hold on anymore. You said it yourself—you needed him to let go first, because you don’t give up on people. But you’ve got to give up on him now, baby. You’ve got to.”
“Boom, I have.”
“Then why is he still a sore point for you?”
“Because I was stupid,” she gritted out as if the words cut her up as she pushed them out. “For seven months I was a total, blind idiot, and everyone knew it but me. Hell, you knew it, and you’ve never even met Jackson.”
The sudden glitter of tears in her eyes alarmed him enough to capture her chin in his hand and force her gaze to his. “Is that the only reason you’d cry over this piece of shit, Mia? Because your pride got dinged?”
Confusion clouded her face. “I’m not crying, and what other reason would there be?”
“Do you still love him?”
“No.” The response was out so immediately he couldn’t help but believe her, and her faintly appalled expression was just the icing on the cake. “I could never love him now.”
“Good, baby.” Suddenly breathing seemed a hell of a lot easier, and he relaxed enough to caress her cheek, amazed as always at the softness beneath his fingertips. “You know you deserve the best.”
“I don’t know about that, but I don’t deserve the likes of Jackson Hackler.”
“I know what you deserve. You deserve to know that you’re the only thought in a man’s head. You deserve to be his top priority, and to believe without a doubt that you’re the only woman in the world who matters. So as of now, you don’t waste another tear on a man who never gave you what you deserve. I’m the one you should be thinking about, because I’m the man who’s going to give you everything you deserve.”
Her face softened as if by magic. “God, you’re amazing.”
Good, he was finally getting through to her. “Yeah, I am.”
She laughed and stepped closer to him. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Get me so furious I could kill you one minute, then wish we were someplace private so I could rip your clothes off the next.”
“We Kingfishers are a talented lot. And as for privacy…” With his body suddenly flushed with warmth and his dick beginning to feel heavy with a deep and insistent throb, he grabbed her hand and dragged her into his inner office, locking the door behind them.
Mia would have taken in the uncluttered space furnished with a desk, chair, a serious-looking computer with the biggest monitor she’d ever seen and a couple of slingback black leather chairs, but she was otherwise occupied. Quinn was coming at her with an unmistakable hunger gleaming in his eyes, and her heart was beating so fast she thought it might jump right out of her throat. “You can’t be serious,” she managed. But even she could hear the breathlessness in her voice while her skin began to tingle, and she could feel the rasp of fabric against her suddenly sensitized nipples. “Quinn, think.”
“I am.”
Oh, yeah. She’d just bet he was thinking, and she didn’t have to be a mind reader to know exactly what he was thinking about. “We cannot have sex in this office. It’s… it’s unprofessional.”
His low laugh was downright predatory as he reached for her, his hands immediately homing in on the top of the comfy yoga pants she wore. “Hell, yeah, having sex in the office is unprofessional. Maybe I should fire us.”
“I don’t work here.”
“Then maybe I should hire you. I’ve got a definite position for you in mind.” He shoved her pants and undies past her hips, making her gasp. He took advantage and brought his mouth down on hers, his tongue invading in a way that was pure sex. Whatever lingering inhibitions she might have had melted under the sheer wave of lust that his touch always unleashed. She knew it wasn’t smart or socially correct to have sex in a place of work, and she’d never even dreamed of doing something so risky.
But being smart and socially correct didn’t matter. What mattered was that every time Quinn touched her, she went up in flames, and those flames burned away everything but him.
When she was in his arms, he was her universe.
Her mouth mated feverishly with his, and his almost inaudible groan vibrated through her to pool way down deep in her belly. That beautiful resonance spread outward, dampening that place between her thighs and quickening her breath with feverish excitement. It was crazy, getting this wet from just a kiss.
But this was Quinn. When it came to turning her on, he was a freaking genius.
Her hands gripped his shoulders for balance when he cupped her ass and boldly pulled her up to rub against the thrust of his sex so urgently her feet almost left the ground. The feel of his arousal, knowing how much he wanted her
, made her head spin as dizzily as it had from wine the night before.
“I always thought sex was bad for a headache,” she murmured against his lips, her voice husky with need. “But I think you’ve cured my hangover.”
“I’m the cure for everything that ails you, baby.” He rolled his hips into hers, the veil of clothing keeping them separated, and suddenly she wanted to scream with the frustration of not being able to feel his naked body under her hands.
“Quinn.” She wasn’t aware of whispering his name into his mouth as she worked the buttons of his heavy work shirt. It was a relief to slide one hand inside the material to roam over his smooth, furnace-hot skin stretched tautly over muscle and bone. But even as she gently raked her fingernails over a pec and beaded nipple to make him jump and groan and press more insistently against her, it wasn’t enough.
But she knew what would be.
With her other hand, she dealt with his belt in what she thought was a masterful feat of dexterity, but he apparently he didn’t agree with her. He tugged the button at his waist open and yanked the zipper down then, impatient, took her hand and shoved it past his underwear to close around the steel-hard rod of his shaft.
“Yes. Oh, sweet baby.” A shudder rippled through him, and it had to be a trick of her imagination that she thought he sounded downright reverent. “There’s nothing better than your hand on my cock.”
“Nothing better?” Thrilled out of her mind with his response, she stroked him while her sex ached with wet heat. “I thought you liked nothing better than to put this amazing part of you—” she gave his stiffened flesh a gentle squeeze that made him moan and buck against her “—inside me.”
“Mia, fuck, you make me crazy, I can’t…”
She never found out what Quinn thought he couldn’t do. In a handful of heartbeats he had her out of her yoga pants and panties, and balanced on the edge of the desk. Then he was busy throwing his wallet aside after rolling protection in place, his scorching hot gaze never leaving her. She scooted back on the desk, uncaring that something clattered to the floor, and spread her thighs wide.
“Fuck me,” she whispered, her body on fire. “Make me whole.”
“We make each other whole.” His strong voice was ragged as he gripped her thigh with one hand while the other stroked the slickness of her cleft. Then he was there, thrusting into her and filling her all the way. Pleasure bit into her senses, her soul, and sank into every part of her being. She felt her body absorb him, surrounding his invading flesh, and it was so beautiful it brought tears to her eyes.
“You make me cry,” she panted, trying to warn him while she still had the ability to speak. “So good. It’s so good with you, you make me cry.”
“I love your tears, baby.” He pushed her to lie back so that he could place her legs over his shoulders, altering the angle of penetration, then plunged into her as deeply as he could go. Fiercely he hit against her clit with every thrust, and the angle he’d achieved was spectacular, the best ever. His cock stroked against the one spot that had her body tensing with a sensation so exquisite it bordered on agony, and with each fluid stroke he boosted her that much closer to losing her damn mind. “You’d never use your tears against me. You’d never do anything to hurt me.”
“Never.” She didn’t think about how she’d had tears in her eyes earlier and for the first time he hadn’t gotten angry over them, nor did she think of the weight of trust his words carried. At that moment all that mattered was what she was feeling. Wildly her hips pumped, lifting off the desk as she chased after that insane fulfillment hovering just out of reach. She’d never stop until she had it. Never, ever stop…
“Try to keep quiet.” His voice was thick, unrecognizable. She adored the sound of it. His hands moved under her to cup her ass, his fingers biting into her soft flesh as he pulled her to him again and again while he plunged into her like a wild man.
It was almost impossible to do as he asked, and he seemed to understand that. He leaned forward, folding her thighs up tight to her chest and her heels pushing into his back, and he kissed her just as the tension inside her snapped. An explosion of ecstasy shattered through her, ripping the world apart, and while spasm after spasm rolled through her, she couldn’t help but cry out into his muffling mouth. Her orgasm roared endlessly, shattering, incinerating. Beautiful.
Had sex ever been beautiful before?
Only with Quinn.
Only he could bring this kind of beauty to her.
The unbearable bliss was still echoing through her when suddenly she found that it was her mouth that was doing the muffling as he groaned deep and long down her throat. His movements became uncoordinated and wild and urgent, and she opened her eyes to watch him. It was beyond exciting, seeing him in the throes of rapture. The cords in his neck stood out while every muscle in his body strained to reach the pinnacle of pleasure, his eyes drifting closed as if tortured.
She understood. It was the same with her whenever he made her come. What he gave her was so intense and dazzling that it was a magnificent torture, and it killed her that the pleasure he gave her couldn’t last.
At last the terrible tension stringing his body taut drained away, and his weight collapsed onto her with his face turning to tuck into her neck. With her heart still racing, she wrapped her arms around him and she bent her head to press her mouth against the silken fall of his hair.
“Don’t ever tell me you can’t,” she murmured, arms tightening. “Talk about a huge lie.”
That brought his head up, and when his gaze locked onto hers, the languorous satiation and warm contentment she saw there made her chest clench with a happiness so soaring it was a wonder she didn’t fly right up to the ceiling. “What?”
“Right before we both lost our minds and had sex on your desk, you said you can’t.” Dryly she gave their still-connected bodies a significant look before raising a brow at Quinn. “Trust me, pal. You can.”
“Hell, yeah, I can.” Grinning, he put his face back in her neck and kissed her there. “And I’m going to keep on doing what I can until we both pass out from exhaustion.”
“Uh, here? Because I’m thinking that’d be kind of awkward as the workday went on.”
“Not here. Next time is going to be tonight by the fireplace, because I haven’t yet seen what you look like in firelight. Sound good?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, stroking his hair while that crazy happiness in her chest grew. “Sounds really good.”
Chapter Eighteen
Once Mia managed to get out of the main building with Jase loudly wanted to know what took them so long in the office—all the while wearing a big shit-eating grin all over his face—she returned alone to the chalet. Taking her phone out of her purse, she plugged it into the borrowed cord, paranoid now about letting it get low on juice.
The moment she did, it began to ring, surprising her. Then she saw the name on the screen and all but pounced on it in her haste to answer.
“Hi, Deb. How are you?” How’s it be going since I left you high and dry without a stager all this time?
“The hell with that, how are you? What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Mia inwardly cringed at the worry in her aunt’s voice. “I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long, and that I wasn’t able to call you sooner after my phone died. It’s just been crazy here, weather-wise. Have you been slammed with business?”
“Forget about the business,” came the surprising response. “You left this long, rambling message that you were fine but snowed in and having a great time getting to know a part of the country you’d never imagined you’d ever see. So since you obviously haven’t decided to fly out of there yet, I just want to know if you’re actually snowed in, or are you touring freaking Montana’s High Country?”
“Both.” When she’d left the message, she hadn’t yet learned that the airport had reopened and her flight to Seattle had resumed without her. Thanks, Quinn. “I’m truly sorry for leaving you in the lu
rch, Deb. Did you also see the text I sent you?”
“The one about vacation time?”
“That’s the one. I’ve never taken a vacation in the two years that I’ve worked for you fulltime, so I’d like to take a couple weeks off to get my life in order. But since this downtime obviously came up with no notice, I understand if you need to replace—”
“Stop, already. You know very well that the dead of winter isn’t our busy season. Even if you were here, I’d be paying you to do almost nothing. The only new listings I have are a small apartment in Little Italy off of Roosevelt, a brownstone monstrosity that needs a ton of renovation before any staging can be done, and a cute little shotgun-style cottage out in Old Town that I can stage myself. What I’m concerned about is you. How are you after the jackass did his thing online? Daria told me you know about it.”
Without warning, she recalled Quinn’s assertion that to be hurt by anything Jackson did was an indication that she still cared. That was why she took her time to search her heart, only to find peaceful serenity. “I’m good, Deb. I swear. If anything, I feel better than ever now that I’m free of Jackson.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Mia couldn’t help but chuckle at her aunt’s amazed tone. “I can now see that I deserve to feel like I’m more important to a man than anything else in his world. Jackson never gave me that, so… I’m good.”
“It’s about time you realized that.” Her aunt’s voice crackled with relief before she laughed out loud. “I can’t tell you how often I’ve wanted to knock some sense into you about that very thing. You deserve nothing but the best, sweets, because that’s what you are—the best.”
Aww. “I don’t know about that, but it sure is nice to hear.”
“The people who love you tell you that very thing all the time, but Jackson the Jackass always had a way of drowning us out. But now it seems like you can hear us just fine. I don’t suppose you have anyone helping you with your hearing, do you?”
Mia began to feel warm all over. “Uh…”