He could flip burgers, mow lawns, do whatever it took, so long as Quinn was safe.
Blake was right. There was life after the badge.
Her hands slid down his back, her nails pressing into him. He parted his lips and she didn’t hesitate. Her tongue swept into his mouth, teasing him. Caressing him.
This was perhaps the best part, getting to learn and see a part of Quinn she didn’t show the world. He’d known that under all her prickly ways was a woman he’d like. Someone he understood. If only she’d let him in.
She nipped his lip then swiped her tongue over the spot, much like he’d done to her last night. Quinn was nothing if not a fast learner.
He clutched her closer.
How easily she could have been taken from him.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered against his mouth. “Is it me?”
“No, no. You’re perfect.”
“Am I not doing something right? Talk to me, Owen.”
“I just...I could have lost you today.” He cupped her face in his hands. She’d had hours to come to terms with the near death experience while he’d had moments to accept his role in the day’s events.
“I’m here. I’m not that easy to kill.” She lifted her hands to his cheeks. “You should know my dad’s been shot dozens of times and he just keeps coming back. I might have inherited some of that. I’m here.”
“I know.”
“We can stop.”
“I don’t ever want to stop.”
Owen pulled her toward him, kissing her lips, breathing in the scent of her, feeling the weight of her body, the warmth.
She was alive, she was there and she wanted him.
Everything else, they’d figure out in time, but right now, he wanted to be with her. Because she’d become the most important thing in his life.
She leaned back enough to grab handfuls of his shirt. He helped her pull it off, then watched her splay her hand against his chest, over his heart. Could she feel the difference? How it beat for her now and not just him?
He picked up her other hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. Her wrist.
Quinn laced their fingers together, guiding his hand to her shirt. He took the hint and tugged the material up off her head. He leaned back, the better to appreciate simply looking at her. How the cream-colored bra cupped her breasts. The softness of her body.
She slid one foot to the ground and stood. Her lips were glossy and swollen from their kiss, her gaze full of heat and need.
He swallowed.
Quinn had been forced to settle. He didn’t want her to settle on him. He wanted her to want him the same way he desired her. Wholly and completely.
Owen pushed to his feet and reached out, sliding his hand down the flare of her hip to the waistband of her sweatpants. He went to a knee, kissing her stomach, below her navel, and tugged the soft material down her legs. She braced a hand on his shoulder and stepped out of the clothing before he could strip her completely.
They needed the bedroom, somewhere comfortable.
He pushed to his feet.
Quinn planted her hands against his chest and shoved.
He sat back hard on the sofa, Quinn following him down, her mouth devouring his. She needed him now.
Owen dug out his wallet and tossed it on the cushion beside them. He cupped her mound, his fingers sliding over slippery flesh. So damn wet.
“No,” Quinn wailed.
She grasped his belt and yanked, releasing the catch. He hissed and tabbed his jeans open, his already-hard dick in danger from her over-eager hands. He shoved his pants down and she wrapped her hand around his cock, grinning as though she’d just been given the ultimate prize.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Lust was quickly overpowering his other thoughts.
This was about her needs, not his.
“Like this? Is this good?” Quinn’s breath warmed his cheek.
“Here.” He covered her hand with his, tightening her grip, showing her how he liked to touch himself.
“Does that...feel good?”
“Hell, yes.”
“I want you inside me.”
He squeezed her hand, stilling the motions.
Words like those were powerful enough to make him come on the spot.
“My wallet.” He groped for the leather billfold, finding it by touch.
Quinn took it from him. She’d watched him slide a condom in it earlier. Now she pulled the packet out and handed it to him.
In another setting, at another time, he might offer for her to do the honors, but after words like that? He couldn’t.
Owen ripped the package open and snagged the condom before it fell and got lost in the sofa cushions. Quinn sat back, watching him roll the latex over his erection.
He pulled her forward, his cock bobbing toward her like an erotic homing device.
She grasped him, holding his cock while she fit him against her.
Quinn lifted her gaze to him, staring deep into his eyes. She let go of his cock, her lips parting and lowered herself.
“Damn.” He groaned.
Last night was a blur. He’d tasted and touched, lost himself to the feel of her, what it was like exploring a new level of intimacy. Tonight, he was the one experiencing it.
Quinn braced her hands on his shoulders and moved, her hips undulating, rising and falling, her pussy squeezing him tight.
He grasped the front of her bra, pulling it down until her dusky brown nipples were free from the cups. The material plumped her breasts, holding them prisoner while she fucked his cock.
Owen leaned forward, licking one breast. Her rhythm faltered, but only for a moment, She dug her nails into his shoulder. He toyed with the other breast and she groaned.
She came, spine arched, eyes sightless.
Owen picked her up and laid her on the sofa. Her gaze found his face, eyes dilated from pleasure.
He loved his woman, crazy though it might be to think it so soon.
He thrust and she curled her legs around him, welcoming him into her body.
She was alive. He was still breathing. They’d get through this together.
She dug her nails into his lower back, dragging them up.
His eyes lost focus and he groaned, rocking into her as the orgasm robbed him of everything but the thought:
He loved Quinn Schaeffer, and he’d kill the bastard who thought he could hurt her and get away with it.
Quinn couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a day off. A real one.
She’d still run by the hardware store for the lab, since she had the company card, and put her laptop back into place first thing that morning. Even taking those into consideration, she was still mostly free. No work. No kid activities. She could do whatever she wanted to do. It was a luxury she didn’t normally allow herself. If it weren’t for Owen’s urging, the frowns and muttered curses as she mulled the idea over, she wouldn’t have considered it. Yes, she was still a bit beat up, but she was physically capable.
The Schaeffer family was nothing if not resilient. They took the hits and kept going. That was how they did things. Besides, what other option did she have?
Quinn glanced sideways at Owen.
Was he having second thoughts about letting her pick the day’s activities?
He hadn’t so much as blinked when she said she wanted to go to a scrap yard before they went to set up her things at Duke’s garage. Maybe because he was still twisted up over the new revelation? She understood the gut punch that note had given him in a way she wouldn’t have, had he not made the connection to the stalking and subsequent break-in. They were both being targeted by those people they’d given up everything for.
If she stopped to really think about the betrayal, it was crushing.
They’d both slaved, passed up on life and worked themselves to the bone for their jobs. And for what reason?
He’d believed he was doing the right thing. Something good.
She’d belie
ved she was keeping the family business going. Again, doing good.
Instead, they’d both been taken advantage of and their souls crushed.
They’d get through this. They’d be stronger for it. Because they had each other.
“Any word from your cop friends?” she asked.
“No, I asked them to not tell me anything, even stuff they would otherwise tell a vic.” Owen grimaced, but otherwise that was it.
“Why?” She stopped scanning the piles of scrap and stared at his profile.
“Because I’m not a detective anymore. I need to think about you first. Us. What comes next. I can’t do that, if I’m constantly trying to connect the dots, figure out what I don’t know or who is behind it all.”
“What does come next?” Quinn dreaded that question. Just a few days ago he’d bandied around the idea of going to live with his parents. Hundreds of miles away from her. What would she do without him?
“I put some feelers out, looking into private security.” He hefted the bucket of scrap she’d collected so far.
“What? You mean like the company Ian works for?”
“No, more like rent-a-cop stuff. Building security. Bank security. Lots of places have their own security staff. I’m overqualified, so a job shouldn’t be that hard to find, especially if my captain puts in a good word for me.”
“But that’s not what you want to do.” She grabbed his hand and stopped, staring up in his face, searching for what had changed.
“It’s something to tie me over until I figure out what comes next.” He slid his hand into hers. “Until this stuff with the precinct gets sorted out, I don’t want to make any long-term career plans. Security work means a paycheck, insurance, and it’s probably a lot less life threatening.”
“Yeah, working with Ian seems to be dangerous.”
“Well, doing what they do, it is dangerous.”
“What do you think is going to happen long term? For you?” For me? For us? Where did she fit into his plans? Was it selfish to want to know those things?
“Honestly? I’m not sure. Just taking it one day at a time right now.” He smiled, but it wasn’t as bone-melting. He wasn’t telling her all of his worries, the concerns, how much this ate at him.
“Let’s go.” She didn’t like that answer, or anything to do with their situation.
“Got everything you need?” He rattled the bucket.
“Everything I came for and more. Have you heard from Zach?”
“Not yet, should by the end of the day. Try not to think about it, okay?”
“I could say the same to you.” She turned and started walking, Owen keeping pace with her.
How could she not think about it? He was probably doing the same thing. Rolling around the series of events that had led them here, together. Did he see the same parallels she did?
It was obvious that someone had kept an eye on her for a long time. This wasn’t new or random. And then there was whatever was happening with Owen’s work. It was all coming down on them at once. She was grateful they had each other, though. She didn’t know what she’d have done without Owen. Died, probably.
He kept his hand in hers, that physical connection grounding her. They finished the circuit they were on, paid for the scrap, and loaded up Owen’s car. The silence was companionable, easy, as he pointed them toward the garage.
There were few people in Quinn’s life she enjoyed being around for long stretches of time. Being with Owen was easy. They didn’t have to talk, though conversation was nice. When they did talk, it didn’t feel like work. It was enjoyable. It hadn’t even occurred to her to attempt to spend the day alone. She’d assumed he’d go with her, that they would do things together. She liked being with Owen as much as she liked being by herself.
Owen pulled around back of The Dragon’s Custom Motorcycle and Repair shop. The tin-and-brick building was old, but the paint job of a multicolored snake-like dragon breathing fire was new. She knew Duke had owned the place for a while and did well enough that he had a team of people working for him. Other than that, she was clueless. One didn’t just strike up a lively conversation with Ryuto “Duke” Lopez.
“I’ve never been here.” She leaned forward, eyeing the group of guys in grease-stained clothes and leather standing around a long, chrome bike.
“Their smell is worse than their bite.” Owen winked at her. “Kidding. Come on. I’ll introduce you to Big John first. You like cats?”
“Sure?”
“Good. He’ll probably try to get you to adopt one—or twelve. Decide now if you want one.” Owen got out and circled around to the back of his car.
“A...cat?” Quinn blinked at where Owen used to be. What the hell?
She got out and joined Owen at the back of his car.
Maybe asking Duke to use space here was a bad idea. In theory, it was ideal. She wouldn’t have to worry about mess, they would have a wash station on hand if anything went wrong and the place was completely out of the norm for her. In practice, well, she had no business being at a biker hangout, even if it was owned by Duke.
“I thought you’d be here earlier.”
“Morning, Duke.” Owen reached out and shook hands with the man Quinn knew as Ryuto.
“Hey, Quinn.” Duke didn’t smile but he did wave at her.
“Hey.” She waved back.
Did Duke even know how to smile? Duke had never struck her as unfriendly, but he wasn’t an easy one to get to know. Not that Quinn had gone out of her way to hang out with him.
The whole no smiling thing had worked when Duke had played the part of the Chinese General at the Princess Party, but in real life the man could be a bit unnerving. Focused. Intense. Somewhat like Owen, but where Owen was personable, Duke was a stone wall of silence. Still, he was usually one of the first to arrive at one of Chloe’s get-togethers for Ian’s friends, and Duke was always the last to leave. He’d done more dishes, picked up more trash and wiped more tables down than anyone else. That was mostly how Quinn knew him. They’d tag teamed the dishes enough times he didn’t intimidate her, but she wouldn’t exactly call them friends.
“Levi has space for you this way.” Duke hefted one box and grabbed her bucket of holding.
She followed in Duke’s wake, past the cluster of guys around the bike and through the main garage. Despite the rough exterior, the inside of the garage was power washed concrete, clean work stations and orderly tools. Quinn breathed a small sigh of relief. Cluttered labs gave her imaginary hives thinking about what could be growing, lost or accumulating under all the mess. It was why she’d done everything she could to hang onto a cleaning service for HI-Co. Molly and Anna Beth weren’t the tidiest of people, and their teams took their cues from the ladies.
Duke led her and Owen into the old part of the building, past the showroom of ready-to-buy products, and into a smaller, almost two-car garage space. Was this the original structure? In days gone by, had someone worked on the Model T in this very garage?
Levi sat on a low, rolling stool, staring up at the guts of a sleek sports bike. He waved at her, but never glanced away.
Quinn rather liked Levi, though his tendency to lose himself in whatever he was working on or reading was a bit too head-in-the-clouds for her taste. Still, she enjoyed the few times Levi had dialed in to chat with her. He didn’t talk down to her like Molly or Anna Beth did, and he was fully aware of her mother’s career.
“Here you are. Need anything? A stand? Stool? Table? Chances are Levi’s already laid claim to it, so you’ll have to harass him for it.” Duke pulled a rag out of his pocket and wiped his hands. She’d seen him do that again and again. Some sort of habitual gesture?
“A lamp? Nothing too fancy, but I’d like to focus light if I need to.”
“Over in that bottom drawer, near the gas can,” Levi said.
“I’ll grab it.”
“Thanks again for letting me crash here,” she said.
“Don’t mention it.” Duke produced a
clamp lamp from the drawer Levi indicated and brought it over for Quinn. “Anything else?”
“No, thanks.” Quinn clutched the lamp to her chest.
The nerves were back. She’d never worked in a lab space with other people around. When she tinkered—because that’s what she was really doing—it was in private. Away from others. She wasn’t a professional. This wasn’t what her education focused on. She was merely playing in the big kid’s sand box.
“Cool. I’ll be in the front for the next little while if you need me.” Duke pocketed his handkerchief and strode toward the door. He tapped the back of Levi’s head, ruffling the other guy’s hair.
Levi didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps he didn’t care.
“What can I do?” Owen’s gaze traveled over the boxes.
“Um, right now, I just need to get everything set up.” She didn’t know what to tell him to do, or if she’d even need help.
“Would it be easier if I left you alone? Maybe went and picked up lunch?”
“That would be perfect, actually.”
“Levi, want anything?”
“A pony,” Levi said without glancing up.
“You want to eat a pony?” Owen asked.
“What?” Levi glanced up, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. “No. What was the question again?”
Quinn chuckled and turned her attention to the boxes. She could probably strip and Levi wouldn’t notice. Until this last week, she’d have thought that an appealing trait. Something she’d prefer. Now she could see the value in having someone around who didn’t miss a single damn thing about her.
To think, two weeks ago, the mere mention of Owen’s name made her groan. Now, she still groaned, but it was with a whole other set of scientific reasons.
15.
“I’m right outside.” Owen peered at the glass office building. “Should I park or—”
Noble Prince (Twisted Royals, #4) Page 19