Black Sheep Bounty Hunter

by Jackie Ashenden

  He didn’t move, letting her touch him. “You know damn well.”

  “Oh, so you like screwing me—”

  “It’s not only about sex,” he interrupted, his voice gravelly. “You interest me. There are so many contrasts to you and it makes me curious. Makes me want to know more. Makes me want to find out everything.”

  She could feel her cheeks begin to heat despite herself, his attention focused intently on her. As if he could see something in her that even she didn’t know what was there. “Are you saying that I’m special to you?” she asked, only slightly teasing.

  Quinn didn’t smile and his reply wasn’t hesitant. “Yes.” His gaze searched her face. “I would have thought you’d know that by now.”

  Her throat closed, clogging with some emotion she didn’t understand. It had been a long time since she’d been special to someone, and not special in terms of being someone’s boss or someone’s sister, but special because of who she was.

  It disturbed her. She hadn’t meant for this to get emotional and yet somehow, Quinn Redmond had blindsided her. This wasn’t simply about their chemistry, this was about her.

  Unsettled, Lily looked away, only to have his palm cup her cheek, turning her face gently back to his. “What’s up?” Quinn asked softly. “That bothers you doesn’t it?”

  She knew she should pull away, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. His palm was warm against her cheek, making her long for something she’d thought she’d buried years ago. A connection to someone. Someone she could trust. Someone who could keep her safe, care for her. “I don’t understand why,” she heard herself say, even though she hadn’t meant to. “I haven’t done anything for you. Not a single, goddamn thing.”

  “You came to me for help.” His thumb stroked her cheek, a tender gesture that her heart tightening in her chest. “For some fucking reason, you trusted me. And coming from you, that meant a lot.” He paused and then added, “No one’s come to me like that in a very long time.”

  Emotion sat like a boulder in Lily’s chest, making her ache. She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t true, that she hadn’t given him her trust, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie. Not when he was looking at her the way he was, as if she’d given him something precious.

  Face it, you’ve always trusted him.

  Maybe she had. Maybe on some deep level that had always been the real reason she’d come to him.

  “What do you mean no one has come to you?” Because suddenly she was burning to know.

  Unexpectedly, Quinn looked away, his hand dropping from her cheek. “It doesn’t matter.”

  But she wasn’t having that. “Yes, it does. You can’t say that like it means something and then tell me it doesn’t matter.”

  He kept his face turned away, but she could feel the tension in his big body, see it in the constant flick of that muscle in his jaw.

  “No distance, Quinn,” she said softly, and she wasn’t sure why she was pushing, not when she hadn’t meant this to get so damn deep and meaningful. But she couldn’t leave it alone.

  “Charlie Jones,” Quinn said at last, clearly reluctant, biting the word off. “I fucked that up. Lost my temper and a girl died. It was my fault and it got my brothers into a lot of shit. They didn’t trust me for a long time after that and I couldn’t blame them.”

  Yes, she could well imagine. Just like she could imagine the hurt that would have caused him. He cared about Rush and Zane, and she knew how much, had seen it over the past few months, helping Lone Star out on various different jobs. He didn’t show it, but she knew it all the same.

  Except…there was something else in his tone, something that made her think that there was more to it than that skip pick up gone wrong.

  She lifted her hand from his chest and this time it was her turn to put her palm against his hard jaw and turn his face towards her so she could look into his shadowed eyes. “But that’s not all it is, is it?” she asked quietly.

  Quinn’s gaze darkened further, full of powerful currents she couldn’t read and didn’t understand. “No. But I don’t want to talk about this now.”

  There was a definite warning in his voice, but beneath that she heard a note of pain. Whatever this little conversation had brought up for him, it wasn’t good.

  The emotion that had been sitting in her chest felt even heavier suddenly. Maybe he was right. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to talk about this. And maybe this wasn’t the time for power games either.

  Perhaps this was the time to give him back some of the pleasure he’d given her the night before. And not for any other reason than because she wanted to.

  He’d told her she was special to him and she knew that he was becoming special to her, too.

  But Lily didn’t want to examine that thought, so she ignored it. Instead, she dropped her hands to his lean hips and pushed him up against the wall at his back. Keeping him pinned there, she rose on her toes and kissed him hard, the way he had earlier that evening, sinking her teeth into his bottom lip and biting him.

  Quinn’s mouth opened instantly beneath hers, as if that was what he’d been waiting for, and then he was kissing her back, devouring her like a man starved, tunneling his fingers into her hair and gathering it into his fist, holding her still so he could kiss her, deeper, harder.

  She could taste his desperation and this time there was another element to it. Not just the release of tension, but something more. As if he was demanding something from her, something he couldn’t put into words. She didn’t know what that was, but God help her, there was a part of her that wanted to give it to him.

  Still kissing him, she dropped her hands to the button of his jeans and wrenched it open, then tugged down the zipper. He made a deep rumbling sound of denial, his hand tightening in her hair, but he wasn’t going to get what he wanted this time. Not when he could have something better.

  She pulled away from him, his fingers releasing her hair, then she dropped to her knees in front of him, pushing aside the denim and jerking down the cotton of his underwear, releasing the long, curving length of his cock.

  Oh, he was magnificent. Her mouth watered just looking at him. She reached out and took him in her fist, and he let out a hissing breath, leaning back against the wall, looking down at her from under thick, black lashes, the jungle green of his eyes blazing. The cotton of his tee stretched tight as his chest heaved with his panting breaths. He looked on the edge already and that thrilled her down to the bone.

  “So,” she murmured huskily, meeting his hot gaze and rubbing her thumb along the curving underside of his dick, stroking the silky skin. “Is this hard cock all for me?”

  The flame in his eyes burned higher. “Why? Getting possessive, baby?”

  She moved her thumb higher, over the slick head, circling and squeezing him, watching the hunger tighten in his face. “Yes. Got a problem with that?”

  “Hell, no.” He took a ragged breath. “All of that’s for you. But you got to show me what’s mine, too.”

  She knew what he wanted and she wasn’t in a position to deny him anything right now. Not when it was turning her on as well. So, slowly, to tease him, she eased her skirt up to her hips then pushed her panties down, baring her sex. His gaze dropped to focus on it, and she could feel herself getting wetter, her pussy throbbing, the pressure of her own desire making her pant.

  “Oh yeah,” he said roughly. “Beautiful, Lily.”

  And just like that she was done talking. Leaning forward, she touched her tongue to the head of his dick, the salty, musky masculine flavor of him hitting her like the most pure aphrodisiac. He made a deep, growling sound, so she licked him, circling the sensitive head, teasing him at the same time as she squeezed his rock-hard shaft.

  “Fuck,” he groaned, and his hands dropped, her chignon falling down around her shoulders as he buried his fingers in her hair once more. “Goddamn tease.”

  Pleasure and excitement were gathering tight inside her, and she loved the fa
ct that she could feel the shake of his powerful thighs, hear the harsh sounds of his breathing. Loved that she could give him this, pleasure him as intensely as he’d pleasured her.

  She opened her mouth and took him in, letting him thrust deep, his hands closing into fists in her hair.

  “Touch yourself,” he growled. “And let me watch.”

  Lily couldn’t think of anything she wanted more, so she slid her free hand between her thighs, her fingers gliding over her own slick flesh, finding her aching clit and stroking. Pleasure crackled through her and she moaned, letting the sound vibrate against the hard shaft in her mouth.

  Quinn cursed, his hot gaze moving from the the sight of his cock in her mouth to her fingers moving between her thighs and back again, as if he couldn’t decide which one he liked better. It was insanely erotic.

  His hips were moving faster now, the head of his dick hitting the back of her throat, but she didn’t care. She only sucked him harder, gripped him tighter, stroking herself more firmly, thrilling to the fact that he was losing control and she was the one making him do it.

  “Get yourself off first,” he ordered in a raw voice. “I want to see you come all over your hand.”

  But Lily had other plans. Last night and this morning, he’d made her lose it completely, bringing her to climax first. Now, though, it was his turn to receive.

  So she sucked him and squeezed him. Used her tongue and her teeth. Holding off her own orgasm until he was growling like an animal, his hips thrusting helplessly into her mouth, then she felt him tense before roaring her name as he emptied himself down the back of her throat.

  She swallowed him down and then pushed herself away, her fingers working her clit, half closing her eyes as the pleasure began to overwhelm her. She could feel him watching her, his breathing loud and harsh, and that pushed everything higher, made the pleasure even more acute.

  “Look at me,” he ordered roughly.

  And she did, lifting her lids, focusing on his handsome face as he leaned back against the wall. His green gaze was like a physical impact, so sharp that when the climax hit, it almost felt like pain

  She was still trembling with the intense aftershocks when he pushed himself away from the wall and very slowly, still watching her, stripped his clothes off. T-shirt discarded on the floor. Boots kicked off. Jeans shoved down, his underwear too. And then he was naked, towering over her, muscled and beautiful, Quinn Redmond in all his glory.

  He reached for her, picking her up in his arms, holding her against his chest as he carried her over to the couch. She didn’t move — couldn’t, the aftershocks of that intense climax like lightning strikes in her bloodstream. Plus, the strength of his arms and the way he carried her, the hard wall of his chest against her, made everything tight inside her relax in way she hadn’t in…years. If she ever had.

  Safe. You are safe.

  She said nothing, not fighting it for once, and he said nothing either, only laying her down on the couch and slowly beginning to undress her. First, her heels gently eased off, then her skirt undone and pulled down, her underwear coming down with it. He went slowly, laying the shoes neatly beside the couch then draping her skirt over the arm, folding her underwear too. He carefully undid the filmy blouse she wore, taking his time with the buttons before easing her out of it. Then he shook it and draped it over the arm with the rests, before deftly unhooking her bra and taking care of that as well, leaving her naked.

  She was trembling by the time he’d finished, and not only because of the gentle way he’d handled her, but also for the care he’d taken with her clothes. So different to how he’d ripped her pajama top off her the night before. As if this time it was clear that he was taking care of Duchess, as well as Lily.

  Taking care of all of her.

  She was shocked to find her eyes prickling as he turned and went over to where he’d left his own clothes, reaching to grab his wallet. Which was insane. She never cried — well apart from the sex last night. But apart from that, usually never. And this wasn’t even due to pleasure. This was Quinn, handling her with care. What the hell was the man doing to her?

  Quinn took a condom from his wallet and then came back to the couch, putting the packet down on top of her carefully folded clothing. Then he knelt on the cushions and slowly began to touch her. His hands were gentle, his palms warm, fingers brushing her skin lightly, stroking her, following the curves of her hips and thighs, down around the back of her knees and calves to her ankles. Then up again. Caressing her like a painter wanting to capture every line of a subject, shoulders, breasts, arms, stomach and down to her hips again.

  Lily began to tremble again, the prickling behind her eyes getting worse and worse, because no one had ever touched her like that. Not with gentleness and reverence. Making her feel precious. Cared for.

  “Quinn,” she whispered, her whole body roused and sensitive, desperate for more and yet feeling so achingly vulnerable she couldn’t bear it.

  He didn’t speak, only urged her thighs apart so he could lie between them, his big, hard body covering hers, the weight of him coming to rest on her so deliciously she shuddered. Then he began to kiss her, his lips brushing over her neck, her chest, her breasts, pressing kisses down to her stomach and her hips, before moving back up again. Taking his time, as if he was tasting every inch of her.

  And she found she’d tangled her fingers in his black hair and was holding on, clinging to him, a flood of unexpected emotion sweeping through her. She should have been fighting it, should have been resisting, but something inside her wouldn’t let her. It was as if there was a piece of her that wanted this touch very badly. And wanted it from him.

  She was shaking by the time he finally picked up the condom packet and tore it open, protecting them both. Then he carefully slid his hands beneath her and positioned himself, before slowly, so achingly slowly, he pushed inside her.

  He had never seen anything so beautiful as Lily stretched out on her couch, naked and trembling for him, her blue eyes dark with desire and an aching vulnerability that made his own chest feel tight.

  And then her long, low moan as he slide inside her, the slick heat of her pussy closing around him, gripping him, welcoming him.

  This was a dangerous game he was playing and he knew it. He also knew that demanding what he had from her the night before and not expecting that to rebound on him was stupid. So, maybe he was stupid, period. Because he hadn’t been prepared for her to question him in return. And when she’d turned to face to him right here in this apartment and asked him straight out whether she was special to him, he hadn’t been able to lie.

  Perhaps he should have, especially since this was never supposed to go beyond sex. Then again, he’d basically admitted to himself that he’d gotten more involved with her than he wanted. Way more involved. And now it was too late to pretend that she didn’t mean anything to him.

  It was certainly too late when she looked at him, a vulnerability in her eyes she probably thought she was hiding. But he saw it. Oh yes, he did. Because he saw under her Duchess armor to the Lily she was beneath it.

  The Lily that craved someone to care for her.

  He shifted on her and she lifted her hands, gasping as he slid deeper in the soft, hot depths of her pussy. And he kept looking down into her eyes, catching her hands and lacing his fingers through hers so they were palm to palm, then pressing them down onto the cushions beside her head.

  She shuddered, arching against him as he settled his weight on her, her pupils dilating, her platinum hair gleaming like spun silver across the cushions.

  She knew there was something more to him than the Charlie Jones situation. She’d sensed it. He didn’t know how, but she had.

  He didn’t have to tell her about Jack and especially not about how he’d let his son go. How he hadn’t protested when Deborah had told him she was taking Jack to LA. Hadn’t even argued, because he knew in the end that Deb was right, he was bad blood.

  No one knew about
that. Not another living soul.

  But, perhaps he could tell her.

  He moved inside her slow and deep, a long, gliding thrust and then a measured pull back. Not hard. Not fast. Only patient. Because he wanted to take the time. Wanted to watch the pleasure unfurl across her lovely face. And he wanted to lose himself in that with her.

  Her hips lifted with his, matching his rhythm, her legs wrapping around him, gripping him tightly. The slide of her silky little body beneath him, and the heat of her, the scent of sex and Lily driving him crazy.

  His fingers tightened around hers, and he was caught by the dense blue of her eyes. Not icy now, but full of heat, full of fire.

  He leaned down and kissed her, brushing his mouth across hers, tasting her sweetness. And she kissed him back, her legs twined around him, holding him tight, as the pleasure got deeper, wider, an ocean he could drown in.

  It was good like this, so good. No power games for once. Just give and take, and acceptance of the pleasure that had both of them in its grip.

  “Oh,” Lily said softly, against his mouth, her voice husky and warm. “Oh…God…that’s so good. Quinn…”

  He kissed her again, because his voice wasn’t working and besides, he was starting to lose himself, starting to become unravelled and she was unraveling him, strand by aching strand. And he didn’t care. She could keep doing it as far as he was concerned, keep unraveling him until there was nothing left of him but twine wrapped around her small hands.

  Quinn finally began thrust harder, deeper, unable to hold on any more as she began to shake, her hands gripping his, her moans getting ragged and breathless the closer to the edge she got, her cheeks deeply flushed, a deep, blue twilight in her eyes.

  But he was there too, letting her go to slide one hand down between them, finding her clit with his fingers and pinching her as he thrust hard, and she jerked and stiffened, arching beneath him, her gaze turning black, the vibration of her scream of release so intense he could almost feel it around his cock.