Murphy's Law

by Lori Foster

  “I’m a man.”

  The black eye and bandaging gave her an especially feral look. “If you weren’t already so battered, I’d smack you for saying that.” She caught the front of his shirt in her right hand and hauled him down to within inches of her. “Speak up, Murphy. Do you want me or not?”

  How could she ask something so ridiculous? “Always.” He touched his mouth to hers. “I want you so much I can’t think of anything else. I asked Denny to check the house because he’ll be sharper tonight than I can be.”

  “Great.” She bobbed her head once in satisfaction. “Then let’s go get cleaned up, eat, and kick our beloved guests out on their cans.” Her wide grin taunted him—but it was the emotion in her dark eyes that grabbed him around the heart.

  Holding out a hand for Ashley to precede him, Quinton followed her into the house. They reached the kitchen just as Denny returned from his check, with Tim in tow.

  “The upstairs and this floor are clear. I’m going to poke around downstairs, too, but nothing looks disturbed to me.”

  “Thanks, Denny. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Better safe than sorry. Soon as I’m done, I’ll help Tim in the kitchen.” He winked. “You two take your time. We’ll wait for you.”

  Once Denny had sauntered off, Quinton escorted Ashley to his bedroom. More docile than she’d ever been with him, she sat on the end of his bed while he ran a warm bath and dug out clean clothes for her.

  She seemed lost in thought when he reentered the bedroom, but the second she saw him, she stood. “Will you help me get out of my clothes?”

  “Yes.”

  That alluring smile teased over her mouth again. “I have a black eye, stitches, and yucky hair, and you’re half hard already.”

  Quinton glanced down at himself and cursed. “It can’t be helped, not when I know you’ll soon be naked.”

  “It wasn’t a complaint. I’m just surprised. I figured guys wanted a woman who looked nice. Not one who looks like she’s been through the wringer.”

  Quinton carefully peeled her shirt upward, revealing first her pale belly, then her small breasts. “I suppose it has to do with being male, and no, that’s not cause for smacking me. When a man feels protective toward a woman, and she’s looking small and vulnerable, well then, dominant male tendencies come out.” He clasped her rib cage just beneath her breasts and smoothed her skin with his thumbs.

  “Mmmm.” Ashley stepped out of her shoes. “I like the sound of that.” She gestured toward the fly of her jeans. “Wanna lend me a hand here?”

  “My pleasure.” Deliberately brushing her with his knuckles, Quinton unbuttoned her fly and eased down her zipper. The loose-fitting jeans gaped open. Going to his knees in front her, he tugged the jeans down to her ankles. Ashley lifted each foot in turn, and he shoved the jeans aside, leaving her in nothing more than a minuscule pair of pale pink panties.

  He wanted to play the game with her, he really did. His sexual encounters with Ashley had shown him the meaning of true satisfaction. He loved making love to her, hearing her soft sighs and harsh moans, the way she clutched at him, her willingness to explore.

  But when her small hand sank into his hair, possessiveness crashed through him and he crushed her close, his cheek to her belly.

  “Quinton?”

  Damn it, he couldn’t get a single word past the lump in his throat. Tonight he could have lost her, and he’d been battling a riot of emotions ever since. He shook his head, hating the way he felt so overwhelmed and uncertain and too exposed.

  “We’re both okay, you know.” Her gentle voice washed over him. “And now that I’m here with you, I’m better than okay.”

  She reassured him, unmanning him with her understanding, and Quinton couldn’t bear it. It made him weak, which was something he couldn’t abide. He naturally countered by sliding his hand inside the leg of her panties to palm one plump cheek. At the same time, he pressed a kiss to her navel. “You are so soft.”

  She laughed. “I’m also impatient.”

  “Right.” Pulling himself together, Quinton tugged her panties down her legs, stood, and scooped her into his arms to carry her into the bath.

  “I feel pampered.”

  He nuzzled a breast and said, “No, you feel hot.”

  Making sure she kept her cast propped on the ledge surrounding the tub, Quinton lowered her into the warm water. He knelt next to the tub and stroked the side of her neck where an ugly bruise marred her delicate skin. “Want me to wash your hair for you?”

  “Thanks. I’m not sure I could do it without getting my cast wet.”

  Reaching over his shoulder to grab a fistful of his shirt, he yanked it off over his head and tossed it to the bench. “Just relax, and I’ll do everything.”

  He took his time, and to his surprise, Ashley didn’t once protest. Near her injured skin, he took special care, using a cloth to dab around her stitches, removing the iodine stains. After her hair was clean, he soaped up the cloth to give her shoulders and lower back a sudsy massage. He washed her slender legs and played with her small toes, enjoying her giggles.

  And when he brought the cloth to her breasts, and then between her legs, he tried to be detached—but couldn’t.

  Ashley leaned forward and said, “Kiss me, Quinton.”

  He did, but he kept the kiss light and easy, then retreated. “If Denny and Tim weren’t downstairs, I’d delay this forever. I enjoy taking care of you. Given these tight nipples”—he stroked the cloth over her breasts again and heard her deep inhalation—”you enjoy it, too.”

  “I suppose if we kept them waiting, they’d know exactly why.”

  “They’re guys, so of course they’d know.” He opened the drain in the tub, stood, and shook open a big fluffy towel. “Come on, honey. Let’s go eat.”

  As Ashley stepped out of the tub and he wrapped her in the towel, Quinton thought it was just as well that company curtailed his inclinations. Seeing her like this, so weary but still stoic, her good humor intact, made him that much more anxious to be with her, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. He worried enough for her that he wasn’t sure about sex, but he cared enough that he craved the special closeness of lovemaking.

  Quinton shook his head at himself and concentrated on drying her without further arousing himself. Even with stress and exhaustion leaving circles under her eyes, he loved seeing her so casually at ease with him.

  By the time they reached the kitchen, Tim had put together a stack of cheese sandwiches, pickles, nachos, and colas over ice. Bundled in flannel pants that drooped low on her narrow hips, and one of his oversized sweatshirts with the left cuff cut away to accommodate her cast, Ashley looked adorable. She tucked her wet hair behind her ears, padded barefoot to the table, and immediately dug into a sandwich, devouring it in no time.

  Studying her with near fascination, Tim put another on her plate, along with some pickles and chips. He smiled as he watched her eat.

  Quinton knew that Tim was seeing Ashley with new eyes, and it pleased him that Tim had accepted things so easily, that he seemed intent on building a special bond. He only hoped that Ashley would be happy about it when she caught on to the changed circumstances.

  After gobbling down two of the sandwiches, Denny crossed his arms on the top of the table. “I don’t suppose you plan to sleep in tomorrow?”

  Ashley shook her head. “I have class. The semester ends soon. If I miss anything now, I might blow the finals.”

  Quinton had to wonder if she’d ever allowed herself to have a lazy day spent in bed, maybe with someone waiting on her. He’d like to do that, and if he could talk her into it, the sooner the better. But he knew it’d have to wait until her classes were over.

  “What time’s your first class?” Denny asked.

  “Ten-thirty.” She paused in the process of munching her third crisp pickle spear. “Wait a minute. You’re going to follow me to school, aren’t you?”

  “No.” Denny thrust out h
is chin. “I’m going to drive you. Your car isn’t here, and Quinton has his own work, not to mention some things to do to finalize the security additions.”

  Quinton shook his head. “I can take a day off.” He had a meeting scheduled, but between Warren and Adrianna, they could handle it without him.

  “I don’t mind driving her at all,” Denny explained.

  And Tim added, “Let him drive you, Ash. It’ll give me a break from the workout.”

  Ashley slanted a look at Quinton, then waved the pickle spear at all of them. “Let’s get something straight here, okay? However I get to class tomorrow, when I finish up, I’m going to get my car and I’m going to drive myself back here. I won’t be sitting helpless in Quinton’s home.”

  “Helpless?” Quinton snapped to attention. It relieved him that she planned to come back to his home, but she made it sound like he’d have her chained to the wall. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means I like having options.”

  “Well, hell, if you decide you have somewhere to go, I can take you. Or I have plenty of cars you can use.”

  “I want my car. But,” she said, interrupting any objections, “I don’t plan to go anywhere unless one of you knows about it. Until that crazy SOB is behind bars, I’m going to be very, very careful.”

  Quinton wasn’t sure if he’d won that one or not, but Denny seemed satisfied, so he let it go.

  “Good enough.” Denny stood and stretched. “We’re getting out of here, or you won’t get any sleep at all.” He set the empty dishes in the sink and patted Ashley’s shoulder as he passed her.

  Tim pushed back his chair, circled the table, and bent to kiss Ashley’s cheek. In an uncharacteristic display of concern, he said, “For God’s sake, Ash, take it easy, will you?”

  Bemused, Ashley nodded. “Uh, sure thing, Tim.”

  Quinton smiled. “I’ll see you guys out.” The men discussed last-minute details, but as soon as they’d pulled out of the garage, he set the alarms again, locked the door, and came back to Ashley.

  She stretched, too. “I need a toothbrush.”

  “Use mine.”

  “Wow.” Pretending great surprise at his offer, she put a hand to her heart. “In some countries, sharing a toothbrush is part of an elaborate bonding ritual.”

  Quinton pulled back her chair and picked her up again, holding her close to his chest. “In this country as well.”

  “No kidding? I didn’t know that.”

  He kissed her to stop her teasing—and then he couldn’t stop kissing her. It had been too long, and he’d been patient enough. Relishing her gentle weight in his arms, he strode down the hall, kicked his bedroom door shut behind him, and carried her into the bathroom. “Do whatever you need to do. I’ll turn down the bed.”

  She shooed him out, shutting the door behind him, and Quinton busied himself with the covers, his mind racing ahead to the point he felt nearly explosive. Rather than stand there waiting for her, he got into bed and propped his arms behind his head.

  Staring at the ceiling, he listened to the sounds of his blow dryer, water splashing, and finally, Ashley opened the bathroom door. As she stood there in the lighted door frame, he saw that her hair billowed out, as if she’d had a hell of a time using his blow dryer one-handed. She’d also removed the flannel pants. Beneath the hem of his sweatshirt, her long legs looked pale, and too damn sexy.

  For a while she simply stood there, staring toward him in silence. “I not only used your toothbrush, but your lotion, too. Now I smell like you.”

  Why that would make him hard, Quinton didn’t know. But he was so aroused he hurt. He pulled back the covers and patted the mattress. “Come here.”

  He sounded savage, a man on the edge. A man overcome with lust.

  Ashley smiled and turned out the bathroom light, leaving the room in darkness.

  Guarding her cast, she lowered herself to the bed beside him. He braced himself over her, smoothed back her now-dry, very fluffy hair, and waited for her to call the shots.

  She stared up at him, then whispered, “Alone at last.”

  Chapter 15

  Rich in shadows, cool and quiet, Quinton’s bedroom felt like the safest haven around. Using care not to clunk him with her cast, she put her arms around him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  His fingertips played over her face. “How do. you feel?”

  “Like I’ll die if you don’t make love to me.”

  There was a moment of perfect stillness, and then Quinton snugged the sweatshirt up over her breasts. She could feel his hot breath when he said, “Tell me if I hurt you.”

  She started to say okay, but his mouth latched onto her breast and she could do no more than arch beneath him. She was more sensitive than she’d ever been, the sensation of his mouth on her so acute, so delicious, that her aches and pains faded away, her worries lifted. He drew softly on her, tugging at her nipple, curling his tongue around her.

  “Quinton?” She tangled her right hand in his hair. “Let’s take off our clothes. I want to be naked with you.”

  He lifted his head, and though she couldn’t see his eyes, she knew his thoughts.

  “I need to feel all of you. Please.”

  “All right.” He sat up beside her. “Careful now.”

  He helped to get her back out of the sweatshirt before standing beside the bed. She heard the rustling as he removed his own flannel pants and boxers, the opening and closing of a drawer, and when he came back to her, she felt the heat of his body and the tautness of his muscles.

  “Much better.”

  “Let’s get you comfortable.” Using a soft, plump pillow, he cushioned her head, then went one further and placed another pillow under her hips. “Put your arms beside you. I don’t want to bump your broken wrist.”

  “You aren’t going to hurt me.”

  “I know.” Sensual command had entered his tone, seducing her as thoroughly as the fingers that trailed over her belly, just above the curls between her legs. “That’s because you’re going to be very still while I make you feel good.”

  She closed her eyes and relaxed. “Okay.”

  With a hand on each thigh, he eased her legs open. “I wish I could see you, but just knowing that you’re lying here, open and waiting, is good enough for now.”

  “What am I waiting for?”

  He said, “This,” and licked her nipple before gently nipping with teeth. He added, “Here,” and his fingers pressed between her legs, but only briefly, long enough to touch her clitoris, to roll over it, tease, and send a shock of feelings through her.

  He withdrew his hand to plump up a breast and suck.

  Ashley bit her lip. Knowing what he intended, what he’d eventually do, heightened all her senses. She was so anxious, she couldn’t keep still. He stroked her skin, cuddling her breasts and kneading her belly, but he didn’t touch between her thighs again. Whenever the waiting became too excruciating and she couldn’t bear it, she clamped her legs together. But he seemed to know it and each time, he urged her to part them again.

  She was left open and waiting—just as he wanted.

  Finally, he left her breasts and kissed each rib, tickling her, making her squirm. His fingertips drifted over her straining thighs as if in approval, as if urging her to widen them even more.

  He dipped his tongue into her navel, trailed damp, hot kisses over to her hip bones, and then downward. Ashley moaned, pressing her head back and digging her heels into the mattress.

  “Don’t hurt your arm,” he reminded her.

  “No. No, it’s fine.” She couldn’t even feel her arm. All she felt was a great throbbing need right— where he kissed her .

  “You’re wet,” he murmured with deep satisfaction, and he parted her with his fingers, then lapped slowly at her, licking his tongue along her vulva, up and over her clitoris. With each leisurely pass, her tension heightened until she couldn’t bear it.

  But as usual, Quinton seemed to know exa
ctly what she needed and when. With care, he worked two fingers into her, stretching her, rasping along sensitive nerve endings. He slid his fingers out, pressed them in again, and she felt his rough tongue stroking her, seeking, then his mouth closed over her so he could suck at her, and the tension snapped.

  With a deep groan, her body trembling and shaking uncontrollably, she climaxed.

  Quinton stayed with her, keeping the pleasure keen, until she moaned and pleaded with him.

  In the next instant he was over her, gliding easily into her. He kissed her mouth and her throat while rolling his hips, gently riding her. The pillow kept her hips tilted to his advantage, letting him go deep, building the pleasure yet again. Another climax hit her, when she thought for sure she’d be dead to the world.

  She clamped a hand to his backside and urged him in closer, harder, but he refused to let her set the pace.

  “I won’t hurt you, honey. I won’t. I won’t…” His words trailed off, he put his head back, and ground out his release.

  His excitement swept her along until her every muscle went limp. Almost immediately afterward, he carefully moved off her. Cool air touched her heated damp skin, making her shiver. She reached for him. “Quinton?”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get rid of the condom. Just lie still.”

  Condom? He must have put it on when he removed his clothes because he sure hadn’t paused before entering her. She smiled, liking that idea, imagining him hard while kissing her there…

  The mattress dipped when he sat beside her. With his fingers he combed her hair away from her face. “You’re okay?”

  “You tell me.”

  She heard his smile when he said, “All right. You’re wonderful.”

  “Yes, I am. Thank you. That was mind altering.”

  “You don’t say.” A cool, damp cloth touched between her legs and she lurched. “No, be still. I’m just making you more comfortable before we go to sleep.”