The word tattooed on her heart in a tap-tap-tap dance. Her pulse tripped the light fantastic. The realization larger than her earlier orgasm. Excited and afraid. Joyous and wary. Reed was a wounded bear. Would he run and hibernate if she confessed?
The realization she was falling had hit her earlier. Tonight with his teasing and playfulness, with his caring and caressing, with his tenderness, she knew for sure. She loved Reed and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.
He collapsed on top of her and then slid to her side keeping his arm around her middle. Keeping her safe.
But was her love safe? Did they have a future together, or was she only the woman who’d gotten him past the fear of socializing with the opposite sex? The woman who’d helped him forget his dead fiancée for a little while?
Chapter Eighteen
Stretching in bed the following morning, Quinn reveled in the heat of Reed’s naked body sleeping next to her. It was a chilly, late fall morning and yet the blankets and sheets were smashed at the bottom of the bed. She didn’t need another source of warmth.
The scent of sex, burnt candles, and Reed’s unique manly smell blended in a sultry tango. She felt languid and slow, and didn’t really want to get out of bed. She did want a chance to study the man she loved. Slowly moving into a sitting position, she scanned his body.
He slept on his back with his hands tucked behind his head, an Adonis waiting to be awakened. Black curly hair swirled around his peaceful face. His tender expression displayed none of his regular tension or anxiety. She hoped she’d contributed to the look.
His strong mouth was open slightly, and she was tempted to give him a good-morning kiss. The skin on his arms and legs was darker than the midsection of his body. He must work outside in shorts and short-sleeved shirts in the summer. She couldn’t wait to see that. Strong neck led to broad shoulders and carved pecs. A smattering of dark hair led from his chest, past his abs, to where his cock lay between his legs.
Lust heated her, remembering how he’d made her come alive last night.
Her gaze continued its path down muscular thighs and strong calves. And stopped at his sock-covered feet. He’d made love and slept with his socks on. Her pulse quickened because she instinctively knew why.
His scarred ankle.
She grasped the edge of the material between her fingers and tugged the sock off. She drew in a sharp breath. He must’ve suffered so much pain.
The reddish skin was raised around the entire ankle and heel of the foot. Multiple white slashes mottled the thicker skin. Ragged edges surrounded each of the scars. She couldn’t tell if the scars were from the accident or surgeries afterward. The ankle wasn’t formed correctly and the angle where it attached to the foot wasn’t ninety degrees.
Empathy pains ripped through her own feet and ankles. Feet she’d abused with decades of toe shoes and en pointe dancing. She remembered her agony. And yet, the pain he experienced must’ve been a hundred times worse. She wanted to kiss and make it feel better.
Bending at the waist, she placed a kiss at the junction of a particularly nasty scar.
“What’re you doing?” His stone-cold voice snapped her back to sitting position. His expression went from sleepy-shock to anger, as if he’d been awakened suddenly from a good dream. He snatched his foot and tucked it beneath his other calf.
She wrapped her hand around his ankle and tried to pull it from hiding. “I’m kissing your scars to make them better.” She kept her tone light, using a Mom-kissing-an-owie tone.
He struggled to keep his foot hidden. “Don’t. It’s ugly.”
She yanked his foot out and bent to kiss the scarred ankle again. “The scars show character.” She kissed again. “And strength.” She kissed again. “And bravery.” She kissed one more time, wanting to prove she wasn’t grossed out.
His foot jerked. “Stop. My feet are ticklish.”
“I’m kissing your ankle.” She placed her lips down again and used her tongue to swirl a pattern on his skin. An answering pattern of desire shimmied inside of her.
“You’re touching my feet.”
“So I need to kiss higher?” Her voice dropped to a husky level. She lowered her head and kissed his calf. “Or higher still?” She licked a trail from his calf to his knee.
The muscles in his calf tightened. “There are no scars on my knees.”
“No?” She raised her head and sent him a grin. “How about your thigh?” She wriggled up his body, leaving tracks of small kisses up his leg. Her body tingled with each graze of her mouth on his skin. Exciting him, exciting her.
His breathing shallowed and his legs flopped open, giving her room to maneuver. “I think other parts of my body need your ministrations.”
His heavy-lidded eyes and his slightly open mouth expressed his lust.
“Do they?” She waited, wanting him to wonder, would she or wouldn’t she?
He shifted and his cock caught her attention. Already it was bigger and rock hard.
A sense of awe filled her. She’d done that. With a look and a caress and a suggestive tease. She’d aroused men before. With Reed it was different, because she loved him and wanted to imprint herself on his soul. Was he ready for a serious relationship?
Her fingers cruised up his shaft. So soft, so smooth, so different than the rest of his body.
He moaned and she wondered how he tasted.
She slid her hand down to his balls and to the top of his cock. His member twitched and grew. Power, womanly power, charged through her body and excited. She was the one leading this dance with the man she planned to be her last partner.
“Do you want my kiss now?” She positioned her mouth above his head and blew.
His mouth dropped open and his sultry-green eyes closed. The muscles on his face tightened and his lust raised her desire. “Yes.” He spoke in ragged tones.
She tasted him. Just a quick lick.
“Oh, man.” The words were more of a grunt.
“I’m not a man,” she teased.
“I know. I know. I know.” His body rose and his voice went higher.
Her mouth wrapped around his wet tip. She slid her tongue up and down enjoying the sensation and control. She could stop at any time. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to please him as he’d pleased her last night. Anticipation quivered across her spine. Her hand went to his balls and gave a squeeze.
His legs flexed and tightened.
Seeing his body stretched out in ecstasy caused her own body to react. Moisture pooled in at the juncture of her thighs. Her mouth went up and down, and her bones liquefied. His excitement spurred her excitement. She moved faster. He grabbed her hair and threaded his fingers through the strands.
His entire body went taut and bucked. He shouted her name, “Quinn!”
* * *
Reed didn’t want to leave the paradise of Quinn’s bed. Holding her close, he felt the beat of her heart. He smelled her rose scent mixed with the muskiness of sex. He wanted to snuggle with her and stay in bed all day. Music played in his head, adding to his pleasure, and also adding to the song he was composing about his emotions for Quinn. The piece wasn’t quite done, just as their relationship wasn’t completely defined.
He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, needing to communicate his love. His inner voice sung like a tenor. His chest clutched tight and released.
He loved Quinn.
His mind and body stilled. His heart punched, then punched again.
He’d vowed to never love, to never even have a relationship again. And yet, with Quinn, it was different. He’d never loved Elizabeth, and he’d felt horrible about her death. He’d been even more devastated by the loss of his music. Quinn had brought the music back into his life.
She snuggled closer to his body, as if sensing his mind’s panic and withdrawal. Her warm body heated him from the inside. He loved being with her, making love or talking. Her blonde hair splayed around her head, resembling an angel’s halo. Her mouth pout
ed in a just-been-devoured moue. Her eyelashes fluttered and settled, implying she only needed to be closer to him.
His body thawed and he calmed, although his pulse sped with the knowledge of his love. He could trust her with his love. He could trust her.
Even though they’d only known each other for a few weeks, she’d brought him out from his cave. Made him feel again. Made him hear music and want to play and compose. He’d shared his terrible secrets and he knew she wouldn’t tell anyone. She’d been sympathetic to his internal torture, empathized with his scars and limp, wanted to help him improve and get better. Become whole.
She stretched beside him and her eyes blinked several times before opening. A molasses-slow smile spread on her face and heated him. “After a fantastic night, why are you frowning?” She wrapped her arm around his neck and brought him in for a kiss.
It had been a great night and a great early morning. And it was going to be an even better day. No, a lifetime with her. He couldn’t profess his love now. She had classes and he had a song to finish. And then there was his brother.
“Just thinking.” Maybe once the song was complete he could play it for her and tell her of his love.
“About?” She kissed him again, and his thoughts flew out of his head.
All he could think of was her lips on his, her body pressed against him. “Now? About you.” He murmured against her mouth, and deepened the kiss with his tongue.
A chiming interrupted.
She broke off the kiss and glanced at the phone on the bedside table. “Remind me to turn off my phone when we’re in bed.”
His cock sprung to life, thinking about the next time they’d be in bed together and giving him hope for the future. Their future. “Whoever it is, they’re persistent.”
Her phone continued to chime.
“Too persistent.” Her frustrated tone was adorable.
He wanted to continue the kiss, even though music poured through his mind and he wanted to capture the chords while fresh. The realization blasted an entire orchestra in his mind. “I should go, anyhow. Plus, don’t you have toddlers coming to dance?”
She kissed him on the corner of his mouth. “I could forget about dancing if I can stay in your arms.”
“I’d never want you to forget or give up your passion.”
Her gaze brightened, and a huge smile lit her face, realizing what he meant. “You are wonderful. I’d never want you to give up your passion, either.” She dropped a kiss on his mouth.
It wasn’t a come-hither kiss, more of a kiss of gratitude and likeability. And he hoped more.
Nerves jangled in his stomach, similar to the constant chiming of her phone. What if she didn’t feel the same? He had to keep things light. He wasn’t ready to confess his love. It was too soon. “If you keep kissing me, I’ll forget you need to dance and we’ll do a more intimate rhumba right here in this bed.”
“You are so poetic. No wonder you’re a composer.” Her chin angled and she considered him. “You need to write these words down and put them into a song. Become a composer again.”
He warmed, because he’d started the process, and couldn’t wait to get back to the keyboard he’d dug out of the garage. “Maybe I will.”
Maybe he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to share his music with anyone except her. He didn’t want to disappoint her right now with negativity.
She climbed out of bed and strutted toward the bathroom. His cock protested. He shouldn’t have hurried her out of bed so quickly.
He forced himself to move. “I should go back to my place and shower.” And write.
Since being with Quinn he couldn’t turn off the music. The melody was in his head as he worked his construction jobs, with him when he danced with her, and with him as they performed a more intimate dance. She’d tapped into his creative side, bringing it back to life with her joy and her caring. With her intelligence and her warmth.
A shiver of apprehension slid down his spine. If she left him, would the music leave him too? He realized he couldn’t doom a relationship before it started. He loved her and he hoped she cared for him. He needed to finish his song expressing his true feelings, and plan on spending the rest of his life with her.
After throwing on his clothes, Reed crossed the hall to his apartment. The door was unlocked. He opened the door and the smell of cooking eggs greeted him. Dax stood in the tiny kitchen, making breakfast.
Reed’s initial surprise dropped into dread. He needed to tell his brother about himself and Quinn.
“Glad you made yourself at home.” He shut the door with a bang.
Dax dropped by his apartment all the time. Both he and Izzy had keys. Usually the dropping by wasn’t a surprise, though, because Reed was always home.
“You were up and away early this morning.” His brother wore a knit beanie, hiding his long hair. His eyes appeared bloodshot and shadowed. “Want some eggs?”
His brother had assumed Reed had left the apartment early instead of being out all night. Yet, Dax’s appearance suggested he hadn’t slept. Immediate sympathy clogged Reed’s lungs. “Sure.”
He spotted his music sheets on the coffee table. Panic jolted his limbs. Quinn’s song. He glanced at his brother and back at the papers. Had his brother seen the sheets? Seen her name at the top? The jolting buzzed his brain. Read them?
His emotions bled into every chord and key. His thoughts about her flowed in every word. He poured his love into the song, even before realizing he was in love.
Shuffling to the coffee table, he snatched up the papers and tucked the telling white sheets into the first thing he spotted. The stereo-system repair manual. “I need to clean my apartment.”
“Your place is always spotless.” Dax’s apartment was always a mess.
Blowing out a breath, Reed moved to the small kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, glad to have a mundane motion to put his nerves at rest. “Where have you been the last few days?”
“Utah.” Dax mumbled and ducked his head.
Reed’s shoulders dropped. Where Flirty-Phoebe lived. This woman had his brother wrapped around her finger. Their on-again, off-again relationship had Dax swinging like a yo-yo. “How did it go?”
His cheeks went red and he yanked his hat off. “It didn’t.”
Reed’s sorrow increased, because he now knew real love. How it lifted you higher and made everything right with your world. He clapped his brother on the back. “I’m sorry.”
His brother saluted him with his flirtatious-smarmy smirk. A smirk saying he was about fun and didn’t take much seriously. “Which is why I texted Quinn this morning and asked her out.”
* * *
Quinn read Dax’s texts with wariness. His words were pure poetry speaking of love in a lyrical fashion. If the text had come from Reed she’d be ecstatic. Frowning, she realized he’d never spoken any words of love, or even like.
She barely knew Dax. There was no possible way he felt the words he’d texted. His mind seemed to be somewhere else. As was hers. She’d hinted they could only be friends. He wasn’t taking the hint. She needed to speak straight and tell them nothing could ever happen between them.
She turned on the stereo system before her first class. No sound came out. She needed to have an expert repair the system, not have Reed jerry-rig it together. Glancing at her watch, she’d have enough time to run up to his apartment to grab the system manual, and a quick kiss, and call the warranty number on the manual before class started.
Dashing up the stairs, she couldn’t believe how much she anticipated seeing Reed again. She’d been with him less than an hour ago, and already missed him. She wanted to know he was going to be there at the end of every day. That they’d eat dinner together and talk about their day. That he’d help her and she’d support him. That they’d make love every night.
After knocking and being told to come in, she opened the door. “I’ve only got a second to grab the stereo manual and give you a quick ki—”
Dax slouched against the counter separating the small kitchen from the main living area. A couch and coffee table separated them. “A quick answer to my question?”
“Dax.” The lightness inside her evaporated, and her feet slid to a halt. She twisted her fingers together in a nervous dance. “What’re you doing here? Where’s Reed?”
Had he told Dax about their relationship? And if he did, what had Reed told his brother? Because she knew their connection was more than a friendly affair.
“He’s in the shower.” Dax paced toward her on the hunt. “Did you get my texts?” He ran a finger down her bare arm.
And she felt nothing but a friendly touch, a brotherly touch. “Um, yes. I did.” Swallowing, she tried to figure out a way to let him down gently without causing a rift between him and his brother. Obviously, Reed hadn’t said anything about their love affair.
“Well?” Dax’s green orbs, so similar to his brother’s, rounded with hopefulness, and what appeared to be a flash of desperation.
“I’m super busy right now.” She jerked her arm away and picked up the stereo system manual to distract. “Got a class starting in a couple of minutes.” She’d have a room full of expectant toddlers and mothers in less than five minutes. It wouldn’t be fair to blurt out the truth and hurry downstairs. She wouldn’t dump and dash. Not that she was dumping. The two of them didn’t have any type of relationship. They’d had one date. Plus, she didn’t know what to tell him about her and Reed’s relationship. They hadn’t defined it yet. “I needed this manual.”
Dax put his hands on her neck and moved his fingers in a massaging motion. “You need to relax. I can help you.”
“She said she was in a hurry.” Reed’s curt tone cut across the room.
He stood in the hallway, only wearing a short, gray towel wrapped around his waist. His dark hair dripped water. His eyes stormed.
She took in his glorious body. She’d seen him naked before. In her bed. Laying on a blanket in the dance studio. On the piano. But this hulking, strong, menacing man appeared to be protecting his territory.
Her.
Her knees weakened and her bones went to mush. The urge to rush into his arms almost overtook her.
The Romance Dance: Castle Ridge Small Town Romance Page 20