She liked the feel of my needle moving over her skin.
Christ, Quinn was turned on.
Her scent filled my room, and all I could think about was that little star on the inside of her hip. It was fucking with me in a big way. And yeah, I had to be losing my mind, because right then I wanted nothing more than to yank her tight jeans back down and press my face against that smooth olive skin, drag my nose over that star, breathe her in, lick and suck that tender-looking flesh until she begged me to go lower.
Stop.
I couldn’t think about Quinn like that. It was wrong for so many reasons.
I refused to look at the way her nipples strained against her shirt or the way her thigh muscles kept tensing every time she squeezed them together, and made myself concentrate. I needed to get this tattoo done so I could get her the hell out of here and away from me.
Jesus, the way she’d looked when I finished drawing her mom’s cross. I’d wanted to pull her into my arms and keep her there.
I needed a drink—ten—and as soon as this was done I was burying this shit in my head at the bottom of a bottle.
“I’ll leave, if you promise not to drink too much.”
Her words from the night before pushed forward, cooling my blood like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head.
The reminder I needed. And one of the many very good reasons I’d be ignoring the throb behind my zipper and keeping my hands to my damned self.
Thirty long minutes later, it was done.
I worked quickly, cleaning her off.
She sat up when I was finished, flushed, lips full and red from her biting them, which I worked hard at ignoring, especially since I knew how they felt against mine. That fleeting kiss she’d given me in the bar felt like it was just moments ago. Christ, her lips had barely touched mine, but I couldn’t get the way they felt out of my head.
Snatching a small mirror off the table, I showed her what I’d done.
“Wow, Bull, that’s…it’s beautiful.”
“Keep your shirt up,” I said, voice full of grit, and quickly applied some ointment and covered it.
She climbed off the table. “Bull—”
My phone started ringing.
Rattled from what I was feeling around Quinn, I grabbed it and answered without looking. “Yeah.” I could hear Quinn behind me, the rustle of fabric as she straightened her shirt, and gritted my teeth again.
“Logan?” A slurred voice echoed down the line.
I stiffened.
My mother, calling in her usual state, was the last thing I needed. “What do you want?” I said, thrusting my fingers through my hair.
“Don’t be like that,” she said. “You’re my boy, my only baby.”
Fucking hell.
“How much have you had to drink?” I muttered. “You eaten today?”
She was an alcoholic, a barely functioning one, and had been as long as I could remember. But it got worse after my father left, which was why my grandmother took me away from her before Child Protective Services could.
“I’ve eaten.”
I heard someone say something in the background. “Wayne’s back?”
“Of course he is. He’s my husband,” she said, all the softness leaving her voice.
Wayne entered the picture after I was gone, was as bad as she was, and an asshole to boot. They broke up and got back together every other week. But for some fucked-up reason my mother loved him. Probably because he was her enabler; they encouraged each other.
“Look, baby, we need a little help with the rent this month. Wayne got laid off and you know I can’t work with my back—”
“How much?” I bit out, anger rising inside me, helplessness, the same way I’d felt my whole life when it came to my mother.
“A thousand.”
“What? That’s a hell of a lot more than just help, Ma.”
I heard Wayne in the background again. She had me on speakerphone—she always did—so the weaselly asshole could tell her what to say.
“You were right, Logan,” she said suddenly. “I haven’t eaten. Things have been tight around here—”
“More like you already drank your money.”
I hadn’t heard from her in two months. The only time she called was when she wanted something. I wasn’t sure why it still surprised me, why it still stung so much.
“No, I promise we didn’t. You’ve got that bar now; you can’t be hard up for cash, baby boy. Please, will you help your mom out?”
If she knew I’d inherited money all those years ago, she would’ve been on my doorstep with her hand out within days.
“Only if you use it to pay rent and get food. It’s not for gin, you hear me?”
“Don’t fucking tell us what to do—” Wayne started.
“Hush, Wayne,” my mother bit out. “So you’ll do it?”
I worked at cooling down, breathing in and out slow and steady. It didn’t work. “I’ll transfer it tonight.”
“Thank you, Logan—”
I disconnected, cutting her off, and tossed the phone on the table in front of me. How was it that she could still get to me after all these years? Why did I care that she used me? That she used what I gave her to get wasted?
Why the fuck did I still care about her at all?
A warm hand landed on my back, and I jolted. Shit, how had I forgotten that Quinn was behind me? But then my mother could fuck me up like no one else with just one call.
“Bull?”
I shook my head, because my vocal cords were too tight to work, especially with Quinn’s hand on me and the warmth of her skin soaking through my shirt. I felt her fingers curl into the fabric as she moved around so she was standing in front of me.
“Bull?”
“My family’s fucked up, Quinn, you know that. There’s nothing to talk about.” I stared down at my discarded phone, unable to make myself look at her.
“Talking to her, it hurt you. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”
Jesus, she was killing me. After that call, I was struggling to build my walls back up. I needed her to back away before I pulled her into my arms and sated the need for her that was fucking roaring through me. A need that was wrong, so wrong for so many reasons.
“Please, Logan, will you look at me?”
The sound of my name on her lips made my heart pound harder. “Can’t,” I gritted out.
“Why?”
I could feel the heat of her body radiating from her, seeping into me. Her warmth, her scent…just her. Everything about her was drawing me in, making my head spin. “If I look at you now, I’ll do something I shouldn’t.”
Her hand was at my waist and she slid it around to my stomach.
I shuddered, cock pumping full of blood, painfully hard in an instant. “Quinn…”
“What? What will you do?” she whispered.
The slight rasp to her voice sent tingles across my scalp. I clenched my fist. “You can’t…you can’t touch me like that,” I said, desperation clear in my voice.
“Why?” she asked again. “What will happen?” She put her other hand gently on my chest then slid it higher, fingers curling around the side of my throat. “Tell me?”
I turned to her, doing exactly what I knew I shouldn’t, but needing her so bad I couldn’t stop myself. And, fuck, looking into her gray eyes, the last shred of my control was decimated.
I didn’t tell her what would happen—couldn’t. If she knew exactly what I wanted to do to her she might run away, and now that I’d made my mind up to taste her properly, that wasn’t going to work for me.
So instead I slid my hand up her back, small and delicate, and thrust my fingers in her long dark-as-night hair, fisting it lightly, and leaned in, growling when she rose to her toes.
Shit, I closed the small gap separating us and pressed my mouth to hers.
Fuck me.
Quinn moaned instantly, her arm sliding around my neck, holding me to her, the other fisting my T
-shirt and doing the same. Her little tongue slid over my upper lip, and I fucking combusted. Reaching down, I grabbed her round ass and yanked her off her feet. Spinning, I pressed her into the wall, slanted my mouth over hers, and worked at owning it.
Yeah, fuck, this was what I needed, what I’d needed for longer than I’d allowed myself to think about. I’d been craving this beautiful girl since she drove back into town and started giving me hell.
My tongue delved deeper into the heat of her mouth as I grabbed her thighs, pulling them wide so my hips could fill the space I’d made.
My cock pulsed, my balls ached. Quinn tasted so insanely good. Perfect.
“Bull,” she gasped against my lips. “Oh God.”
I sucked her tongue back into my mouth, then chased hers with mine, because I couldn’t get enough. The woman tasted like heaven. Felt like heaven.
My hips shot forward, grinding into her. I wanted inside her. Now.
“Whoa!”
I froze as Dane’s voice broke through the spell I was under. Shit. I forced myself to lift my head, break the kiss, and turned to my cousin.
“Bro, you should’ve shut the door if you wanted to get busy,” Dane said and winked at Quinn.
“Get the fuck out,” I growled. “Now.”
Dane lifted his hands. “I’m leaving. But just for the record, I so called this.” Then he sauntered away.
Fuck.
I lowered Quinn to the floor, my body shaking with need, with shock, with anger at myself for what I’d just done. “Christ, I’m sorry,” I rasped. “Shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have—”
“You don’t need to be sorry,” she said, looking so beautiful with her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips I thought I might snatch her back up and have her anyway, despite the reasons I shouldn’t. “I wanted it, too.”
I realized I still had my arms around her and quickly let her go, taking a step back. “It should never have happened. It was a…a mistake.” She was my best friend’s sister, was nursing a broken heart, was so damned fragile. I knew this—I fucking knew this, no matter how okay she tried to make everyone think she was.
I’d seen her when she first came home. God, she’d been so broken, lost, fucking shattered. She wasn’t ready for this.
She stared at me for several long seconds then folded her arms around herself. “You truly believe that?”
“Yes,” I said, though the word felt torn from me. Hell, it felt wrong.
She dipped her chin. “Right, well, if that’s how you feel, I better get going,” she said, offering no resistance, no argument.
That’s a good thing, asshole.
Then why the hell didn’t it feel that way?
Quinn picked up the picture of her mom, slid it carefully in her back pocket, and looked up at me. “Thanks for the new ink. I love it.” Then she strode out without looking back.
I heard the door close softly a short time later.
When I could finally make my feet move, I walked out and found she’d left money on the counter.
I shoved my fingers through my hair and bit out a curse.
What the fuck had I done?
Chapter Five
Quinn
I stood in Morning Glory, Rocktown’s only clothing store, and stared at the racks like they were about to sprout legs and run away.
Me and shopping—not a great combo.
Add in that our little town had zero options, and things got a whole lot harder.
Yes, I loved this place with its rustic-looking storefronts and sense of history. No, it wasn’t as pretty as Springhaven—well, not to a lot of people. The buildings hadn’t been lovingly restored like they had there, but they were looked after and had their own kind of charm.
I thought Rocktown was pretty in its own way, kind of quirky.
I just wished when it came to necessities, like an outfit for Cal’s exhibition at Cassy’s gallery in a few days, we had a couple more stores to pick from.
I slid several hangers aside and sighed. Nothing here felt right. God, I didn’t feel right, honestly. I hadn’t for months. Not since Bevan had stomped on my heart and screwed our neighbor. I felt wrong in my own skin. I was sure being cheated on for the fourth time by the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with had a little to do with it.
But it wasn’t just Bevan. I guess I’d been wanting a change for a while, and now this stuff with Bull made me want to shake off the old me even more, leave every part of that girl who had been all but broken when she came home behind and start again.
Clothes were a good start.
The problem was, I had no idea where to begin.
I wasn’t doing it to try and get Bull’s attention. I doubted he’d even notice, and he’d made it clear he wasn’t going there with me, even if he was attracted to me as well. I mean, he’d kissed me, and not just any kiss—he’d hauled me off the floor, pressed me into the wall, and owned my mouth.
Electricity shot through my belly.
Don’t think about it!
I most definitely needed to stop thinking about it. Anyway, I had serious doubts Bull would be interested in a casual friends-with-benefits kind of arrangement with me. And that’s all I had to give these days.
No, I wanted this change for me. I just had to work out where to start. I took in the overstuffed racks again and sighed.
The bell above the door jingled and I looked up as Cal’s fiancée, Cassy, walked in. Cassandra Deighton had been born into a wealthy family, was extremely beautiful, and from what I knew of her, was an awesome human being.
Her face lit up when she saw me, which was a nice change from the frowns Bull had been liberally throwing my way since the incident in his room at Rocktown Ink three days ago.
“Hey, Quinn.”
I smiled, and it wasn’t hard. I genuinely liked this woman. A lot of horrible things had happened between her family and Cal’s. Dane and Bull had been caught up in the fallout of an awful situation and had paid the price for it. Dane being put into the system at twelve, and in Bull’s case, a stint in prison, was the result.
But Cassy wasn’t like her ruthless father. She was good people. And if Cal and Dane and Bull, after everything that had happened between her family and theirs, trusted and liked her—and in Cal’s case, loved her like crazy—then I had no reason not to like her as well.
“Hey, how’ve you been?”
She grinned. “Pretty good.” The grin softened. “Couldn’t be better, as a matter of fact.”
“You can cut that out,” I said, smirking at her.
Cassy blushed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You loved-up types make me nauseous, seriously.”
She paled a little, her smile slipping. “Quinn, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think, that was insensitive…”
I held up my hands, stopping her. “Hey, you have nothing to be sorry about. Honestly. You and Cal are perfect together. Even if Dane told me he’s stopped going to your place because you’re all over each other,” I said teasing.
The last thing I wanted was her censoring what she said because of my crappy luck with men or apologizing for being happy.
Her smile came back. “The boy has a weak stomach, obviously. We’re a joy to be around.”
I chuckled and watched as she flicked through a rack then glance at me out of the corner of her eye. “Looking for anything in particular?”
“You saw me come in here, didn’t you?”
Her mouth twisted to the side. “I thought you might like some help. I take it you’re looking for something for the exhibition?”
“Am I that obvious?”
She shook her head, her expression all too knowing. “I just noticed that you liked jeans…a lot. Don’t get me wrong, you look good in them, really good, but I know how hard it is to step out of your comfort zone when it comes to clothes, and other things. I just…” She looked kind of shy all of a sudden. “Tell me to butt out if I’m overstepping
.”
Yep, I liked Cassy a lot. And right then I thought I might actually love her. “If you try to walk out that door and leave me here, I’m going to tackle you on the pavement and drag you back inside.”
She laughed.
I glanced around the room at the groaning racks. “I’m not sure we’re going to find what we need here.”
“You’d be surprised. No harm in looking.”
I watched as Cassy combed the store, like every rack, front to back. And Morning Glory had a lot of racks. Every now and then she’d pull something out, give it a once-over, screw up her face, and put it back. But there were a couple of times she’d whipped something out and handed it to Glory, the owner of the store, to take to the changing room.
Finally, Cassy lifted her head, blue eyes lit up with pleasure, and rubbed her hands together. “Are you ready to try them on?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
* * *
Cassy threw her head back and laughed so hard she almost fell off the couch.
“What?” I said innocently, then gave up and laughed with her. “Okay, my early dating life was…eventful.” I’d been regaling her with tales from the crypt. Or rather tales from bad dates past that I’d locked away in a mental catacomb, never to be thought of again.
Unless, of course, I’d had three glasses of wine and a shopping high of epic proportions. “I never knew shopping could be so…”
“Exhilarating?” Cassy finished for me.
“Well, yeah.” I looked around me at the bags cluttering my living room. After we left Morning Glory, Cassy drove us to Springhaven and I got a little carried away. Maybe it was the wine or the fact that Cassy was easy to talk to, but I said, “I’ve never done this before.”
Cassy’s chuckles died down. “What?”
“This.” I motioned to the bags scattered around me. “All this girlie stuff. Clothes and shops…shopping with a friend.” My face warmed when I realized I’d called her a friend. I mean, I felt like we were friends, but maybe she was just taking pity on my fashion-challenged ass.
Cassy reached out and squeezed my hand, and I glanced over at her. Her smile was warm, and her eyes were a little glossy. “Um…me either.”
SIN FOR YOU: ROCKTOWN INK, BOOK TWO Page 5