by Lori Foster
“But you know something, Quinton?” Ashley couldn’t look away from Quinton’s mesmerizing smile. “It still surprised me that you’d… acted so quickly. I mean, at least Denny has the excuse of lumping me in as extended family, since May and I are close. You, on the other hand, barely know me.”
That gibe turned his smile into something altogether different. It brought him around the table and behind her chair. He said nothing, but his movements seemed so predatory that Ashley stiffened in alarm.
All he did was settle his hands on her shoulders and begin massaging her neck. “We’re officially involved, Ash. Isn’t that right?”
With Denny and Tim watching in interest, she felt on display. “We’ve had one date, Murphy. That hardly makes us an item.”
“Is that all there’s been?” His thumbs moved to her nape, easing away her tension. “I seem to remember… more.”
Smug indulgence oozed off Denny. The rat liked seeing her on the spot. Tim watched the scene with fascination. And Quinton, he just kept touching her with magic fingers, making it very easy to give in.
“Okay.” Her eyelids felt heavy. “We’re, uh, maybe getting involved.”
Curving under her chin, his fingers tilted her face up and back. She had no choice but to look at him. “Under those circumstances,” he murmured, “naturally I’d want to do what I can to ensure your safety.”
“Right. Naturally.”
He frowned. “As any man would.”
“If you say so.”
Quinton wasn’t buying it. His hands stopped caressing to rest heavily on her shoulders. “You’re actually going to be reasonable about this?”
“Reasonable?” She shrugged off his hold and pushed out of the chair. “Tell me this, Quinton. Would it do me any good to insist you let me handle it myself?”
“I would always take your feelings into consideration, but—”
“But you’ll feel better knowing the guards are there?” He didn’t have to answer; his expression told her how stubborn he’d be. “Do whatever you want. It’s no skin off my nose. But I better not end up tripping over any of your goons.”
Actually, she was so relieved not to be on her own that she wanted to throw herself against both men and hold them tight.
“Whatever I want, huh?”
Quinton’s suggestive, husky whisper stroked over her, nearly devastating her senses. Her gaze clashed with his and he smiled.
“Thank you, Ashley. That has real possibilities.”
Her hands clenched in reaction and her pulse sped into overdrive. Damn it, she always reacted that way to him—which was why she’d wanted to avoid him in the first place. “Stop it.”
He shook his head. “Never.”
Denny threw up his hands. “Here we go again.” He slung an arm around Tim. “Come on, son. Let’s get out of here before we’re brought to a blush.”
“Wait.” Despite the image she often portrayed, Ashley wasn’t cold or emotionless, and today of all days, she felt she owed Denny. She took her time reaching him, gathering her thoughts along the way.
Denny released Tim and propped his hands on his hips with a lot of bluster. “What is it now?”
When she hesitated, Quinton moved to stand behind her, and she had the awful suspicion that even when she barely knew herself, he understood exactly what she wanted and why. And damn it, his presence helped, in some indefinable way giving her courage and strength.
“Listen, Pops,” she told Denny, trying for errant humor to lighten the mood, “I don’t do this often, so don’t think too much about it, but…”
Confusion lifted his brows clear up to his hairline. “Do what?”
She nibbled her lips, then just went with her heart. Sliding her arms around his trim waist and putting her cheek to his muscular chest, she hugged him tight. “Thanks.”
After a couple of seconds, Denny returned the embrace with gusto, even lifting her off her feet.
With his head close to hers, his voice now filled with worry, he whispered, “What’d I do to deserve this?”
Ashley leaned back in his arms, smiling from ear to ear, feeling good inside and out “Hey, it was a beautiful wedding, the sun is still shining, and you… care about me.” It sounded so dumb now that she tried to verbalize it, but she didn’t care. She even laughed while blushing.
Denny did care, and that meant so much to her. Unconditional caring wasn’t something she would ever take for granted.
“Indeed I do.” There was no smile, no softening of his expression as he smoothed back her hair. “Don’t ever forget it.”
She was just as serious. “So long as you know, it goes both ways.”
Sunlight glinted off his silver tooth when he finally grinned. “Glad to hear it.” He tweaked her chin, gave Quinton a nod, and beckoned to Tim. “Let’s go see if the guests need anything else.”
“Right.” Tim gave Quinton a firm handshake and then put a quick peck on Ashley’s cheek. “Be careful.”
Left alone with Quinton, Ashley ducked her head. It struck her that touching other men—Denny, Tim, Jude—didn’t set her nerves jangling or her heart popping the way it did when Quinton touched her. Just knowing he stood so close behind her had her pulse thrumming wildly.
“I already talked with the police.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as if he hadn’t just witnessed a monumental moment in her life. “They’re aware of the phone call, but without proof that it was Elton…”
Ashley nodded. “There’s not much they can do, I know. Even if they knew for a fact it was him, they don’t know where to find him or they already would have hauled him in for questioning.”
“That’s about it.” He caught a lock of hair that a breeze carried across her face. “They suggested you get a new cell phone.”
“I’d already planned on it.”
“They also said you shouldn’t be alone, and I assured them you wouldn’t be.” Warm breath touched her ear. “I’m going to speak with the night guards in the office building to make sure they understand the seriousness of what’s going on.”
Why did he insist on dismissing her abilities? “I have a mouth, Quinton. I have brains. I can put together a coherent sentence, and I know them better than you do. I think I can handle alerting them to the situation.”
“We’ll both do it,” he told her. Then he added, “I’m sorry if I seem overbearing. I only want to protect you. The thought of anyone scaring you or hurting you…” He trailed off, but she heard the forcefulness, the intensity of his feelings in what he said—and damn it, she liked it that he cared so much.
Because she cared too. Things were happening way too fast between them, but she had no idea how to slow them down.
She realized she was breathing too hard, that she’d fisted her hands and curled her toes inside her sandals. Urgency squeezed her lungs and made her knees tremble. Quinton was as controlling as Denny and Jude, but without the swagger. He was more… suave. Yeah, she liked that word applied to him.
To help conceal the mishmash of her emotions, she pasted on a cocky smile, started forward, and said, “Party’s over, Murphy. Let’s go.”
———
Clouds rolled in during the drive to his home. Quinton knew it’d rain, but he didn’t mention it, and neither did she. Small talk about the weather didn’t interest either of them.
In the quiet confines of his car, Ashley sat stiff and silent, her hands pressed flat to the leather seat at either side of her hips—probably so she wouldn’t visibly tense them again. The pulse in her throat maintained a fluttering beat. With every breath, her nostrils flared.
Desire or nervousness? He hoped she felt the same anticipation that rode him, but if not, he’d deal with it. He could be patient and slow and understanding. He would make this good for her.
The first spattering of raindrops hit the windshield, prompting him to turn on the wipers. From one mile to the next, the storm built, sealing in the heated passion, amplifying the things he felt, the things she
made him feel.
Oddly enough, lust wasn’t in the forefront. He wanted her bad, no two ways about that. But he kept recalling the way she’d hugged Denny—and thanked him for caring.
More often than not, Ashley trampled his heart just by revealing herself. Yeah, she tried hard to keep that rough-edged, no-holds-barred persona in place, but every so often it cracked, and the woman beneath was so damn sweet, so unguarded, she made him ache with unfamiliar urges.
As the fury of the storm expanded, so did the chill in the air. Quinton turned on the heat, then stroked a finger down her bare arm.
She jumped, and gooseflesh rose in the wake of his touch. He could hear her breathing and smell her scent.
“What are you thinking, Ash?” Maybe talking would help her to relax.
“You. Sex.” She answered fast, then swallowed audibly. “How it’ll go and what we’ll do and how we get from the car to the bed and naked and all that.”
Jesus. He had a boner on her second word. The rest of it left him edgy and hot. And protective. “It can go however you want.”
“I don’t know what I want.” She damn near shouted that concern. Unsettled and panicky, she coiled toward him. “That’s just it. I don’t like not knowing.”
Quinton slowed the car to accommodate the weather. Keeping his gaze on the road, he made a magnanimous offer—considering he’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted her just then. “We don’t have to do this, honey. If you’d rather wait—”
“Are you nuts?”
“Uh… no.” Now she appeared ready to smack him.
She leaned closer and nodded toward his lap. “You’re hard.” Her tone dared him to deny it. “I know you want me.”
Crazy Ashley. He shook his head, glanced at her, and smiled. Endearing, adorable, sexy Ashley. “Of course I want you.”
“Then instead of trying to back out, why not just tell me what to expect?”
“I was not trying to back out.” He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. “It’s just that there’s no set pattern.” She stared at him, all ears, eager to learn. He wasn’t an idiot, so he wouldn’t explain that it was different with every woman. Far as he was concerned, at that moment, no other women existed. “A lot will depend on you.”
“Oh, great.” She flopped back in her seat. “So if it all goes to hell in a handbasket, I’m to blame?”
Humor worked its way through his blinding lust. “No, honey, trust me. If things aren’t right, it’ll be my fault. And that’s possible, because I want you so much right now, I might not be able to wait as long as I should.”
“I don’t want to wait.” She sounded defiant and insistent. “Far as I’m concerned, tonight’s the night.”
“Glad to hear it, but that’s not what I meant.” He should start compiling all the weird conversations he had with Ashley Miles. Maybe when they were fifty, they could pull them out and laugh.
Then again, what made him think he’d even know her that many years from now?
He shook his head, glad for the storm that required his attention and kept him from having to look at her through this bizarre topic.
Trying to be pragmatic instead of seductive, he explained, “Women react differently than men.”
“Liberated women would disagree.”
So she wanted him to spell it out? Fine. “Right now, you could make me come with little effort.”
She went still, then perked up in interest. “Really? How?”
Apparently, Ashley harbored some insane notion that he could comfortably discuss this when, to him, it felt like prolonged foreplay—making it far from comfortable. “Just being near you, smelling you, puts me more than halfway there.”
“ Smelling me?”
God help him. At her tone of affront, his smile went crooked. “You smell nice. Like a woman should.”
Cautiously, she dipped her nose near her shoulder and sniffed. “I think you’re nuts.”
“No, I’m a man.” He shifted his position, hoping to ease the restriction in his pants. “A few strokes with your hand, one thrust inside you, and I’d be a goner.”
She said not a single word, but her rapt attention nearly made his muscles cramp. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head, knew she was visualizing what he’d said, and that she’d love to see him lose control.
It was in Ashley’s nature to push things, to be the aggressor—which was probably why she worried now. She didn’t want to be out of control, with no idea of how things would progress.
“Climaxing is not so easy for women.”
His plain speaking caused her to stiffen, but she kept her attention glued to him.
“They require more attention than men. And since I want you to enjoy yourself as much as possible, I’ll need to take my time.”
“I don’t want to be a burden, Murphy.”
So prickly. He shook his head and smiled. “Kissing you, touching you and tasting you, making love to you, will never be a hardship. Foreplay, yes. Torment, you bet. But that’s part of what makes it so sweet.”
“Sweet, huh?” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and gave her attention to the darkening sky. “It doesn’t look sweet. I mean in movies and stuff. It looks sweaty and hot and…”
“Fun?”
She rolled a shoulder. “I guess.”
Even in the shadows of the car, Quinton could see the flush of heat coloring her skin. “In a few more minutes we’ll be at my place. I’ll park in the garage, and we’ll enter through the kitchen. Not a bad place for making love, but this first time for you, I think, should be in my bedroom. Don’t you?”
“I’m not picky.”
But she was a temptress without even trying. “Are you hungry?”
She gave him a look filled with incredulity.
“Good. Then we’ll skip that and go straight to my bedroom. Once we’re there, I’ll close the door and kiss you.”
“And then?”
Nothing showed on his face, but he smiled to himself, knowing he had her. “I’ll go on kissing you until you want more. Not just your mouth, but your throat and your ears and your shoulders.”
“Then we get naked?”
God, she could take the upper hand so easily. “If that’s what you want.”
“I’d like to see you naked.”
He damn near wrecked the car. “Not a problem. I’ll be happy to oblige.”
“No modesty?”
“Not a speck, sorry.”
“You look that good?”
Jesus. He turned the heat off and even considered opening a window. “I have no idea if you’ll think so, but I’m not dissatisfied with myself. What about you?”
She shrugged. “I’m lacking in the upper works, but you don’t seem to mind. Other than that, I’m okay.”
Better than okay. She made him salivate.
“I’m in shape and trim,” she added. “My legs are kind of long. So no, I won’t mind losing the dress. I’m not real comfortable in it anyway. And I’ll be thrilled to get rid of the stupid bra. It’s suffocating. I’m not used to it.”
“Comfortable or not, you look incredible. You always look good. Sexy and casual at the same time.”
She shifted and somehow, even though she still wore her seat belt, she was closer to him. “The whole sex thing is more spontaneous in the movies. Not so orchestrated.”
“They just make it look that way.”
“No wild abandon or evaporating clothes?” she teased.
“Responsible men behave responsibly. They don’t risk a woman’s reputation through indiscretion. They don’t risk her future by forgoing protection.”
“Rubbers?”
“Exactly. No child deserves to be brought into the world by accident, maybe unloved or unwanted.” As she had been. Never would he do that to a child.
“Not all accidental births are unwanted. Some are happy surprises.”
“Too many aren’t. There are enough abandoned children awaiting love and atten
tion already.”
Her brows knitted in confusion and curiosity. Damn, but he’d sounded too fervent. Much more of that and he’d be giving himself away.
“So you’ve never lost your head with a woman?”
More moderate, he stated, “I’ve never been so overcome with lust that I couldn’t think clearly about consequences. I’ve made mistakes. I’m human. But lust wasn’t the cause.”
Sounding less than reassured, she said, “Hmmm.”
He looked at her and caught her staring at his tie in deep contemplation. “Once we’ve ensured privacy and taken care of birth control, feel free to be as abandoned as you want.”
She gave him a sweet smile that should have warned him. “Thanks. And ya know, I think we should start the undressing right now.”
He laughed. “If you show any more, I’ll wreck the car.”
“We can’t have that.” She slid her fingers around his tie and pulled it loose. “Aren’t you choking in this shirt?” Under her deft fingers, one button opened, then another and another… Her hand, soft and curious, slid inside his shirt to rub over his left pectoral muscle. Her delicate fingers felt cool against his heated skin.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
She paid no mind to his warning. In a whisper, she asked, “Are you this hairy all over?”
Quinton shook his head, but it was more a loss of voice than an answer. Her fingertips grazed his left nipple, and he thought he’d split his pants.
Thank God, the lighted entry to his circular drive came into view. “We’re here.”
His announcement stilled her sensual exploration. “Where?”
“My home.”
Her hands slid off him and she craned her head to see, then gave a soft, “Ohhh. Very nice. How big is it?”
At the indelicate query, Quinton regained some aplomb. Leave it to Ashley to ask what others wouldn’t. “Around seven thousand square feet, give or take. Probably smaller than Jude’s home, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Ah well, you’re not a movie star.” She patted his chest, then settled back in her own seat, looking all around as he drove up the drive. “I promise not to hold it against you.”
Her facetiousness, especially given that her dark eyes were wide with fascination, gave him a smile. “Thank you.”