Scorch: A Soldiers of Fortune Romance (Military Bad Boy Romance) (28 page)

Tempting and volatile; he’s the hottest thing that never should have happened to me.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing; my
one
one-night stand. He's the tattooed, bareknuckle fighter with a body built for sin who I found beaten and bloodied in my elevator that night. He's the one I patched up, the one I took care of, and the one I apparently couldn’t say no to when his mouth touched mine…

A one night stand. Just one night, right?

Yeah, wrong, because I just found out my “mysterious stranger” is actually going to be my brother-in-law in half an hour.

Logan
f**king
Dempsey. The arrogant, panty-melting, rude and crude Marine-turned-billionaire who runs my late father’s company. He’s my new boss. He’s the best man in this wedding. He’s everywhere, and I can’t escape him.

No matter how wrong it might be…

*****

Holy f*ck. Of
all
the girls in
all
the world, she has to be the random chick who found me that night and saved my f*cking life?

She looked strangely familiar that night. Now that I know who she is, it’s like original sin staring me in the face.

Good-girl doctor, totally off-limits Quinn Archer is literally the last girl on the whole damn planet a screwed-up guy like me should have anything to do with. I know this, I swear I do.

There’s playing with fire, and then there’s sticking your hand in the flames. If I keep ignoring the rules, we’re both going to get burned. It’s just…

Yeah,
f*ck
the rules; she’s gonna be mine.

*****

What a fucking week.

I toss back a hefty gulp of the champagne I swiped from the catering tent, wrinkling my face at the fizzy bubbles tickling my nose.

Flats; I definitely should have worn flats
, I grumble to myself and hike up my bridesmaids dress with one hand as I stalk my way high-heeled through the rose garden.

Ok, I'm well aware that sneaking off to the greenhouse in the back gardens of my father's estate to slam down stolen champagne probably
 
isn't what I 
should
 be doing thirty minutes before my sister's wedding. But with the week I've had, I'm basically categorizing the bubbly in my hand as medicine, and my normally quite sensible sensibilities can go ahead and deal with it.

An 
"amazing opportunity,"
 my youngest sister Chelsea had called it after hearing about the job offer at our late father's company.

Yeah, well, the
real
'amazing opportunity' - the one that I
wanted
- was the team leader position in the research group I was in back at the hospital; the one I was pretty much "guaranteed" by the Administrative Director. 

Of course when that Director is 
kind of
 
maybe
 your 
sort-of
 boyfriend, and you walk in on him getting blown by some slutty young med student, it's amazing how quickly your 
guaranteed
 position turns into her 
actual
 position. 

And no, that's not a euphemism; he actually gave her the job he'd promised me. 

Ok 
fine
, the job at Archer Holdings 
is
 a great job, but that doesn't mean that coming to work for my father's company doesn't feel like moving back in with your parents after failing out in the real world. I mean, it's not like being a Doctor by twenty-seven is exactly 
slacking
, but I can't help but feel like a washout coming back to work for "Dad's" company.

I'm taking another swig of champagne as I shove open the door to the greenhouse, and I guess 
that's
 the reason I don't realize I'm not alone until he speaks.

"Looks like I'm not the only one that couldn't wait until after the ceremony for the champagne toast."

I actually spit champagne out as I whirl at the uncomfortably familiar man's voice behind me, and when my eye land on him, my jaw about hits the floor under my feet.

No fucking way.

This isn't happening; this seriously can't be happening. It can't be him; there's just no possible way this is real.

But his dark greenish brown eyes lock onto mine as the recognition dawns there, and just the faintest shadow of a grin teases at the corners of his mouth; “You?”

I 
know
 the criminally good looking man in the tux standing right in front of me, even though I'm not supposed to. I shouldn't know about the body built for sin underneath that tux; shouldn't know about the tattoos covering his chest and the coiled muscles of his biceps, or those abs carved out of marble. I shouldn't know how the muscles on the side of his hips groove down like pure sex, and I 
certainly
 shouldn't be able to 
exactly
 picture the thick- well, what I know he's got between his legs.

He's shaved his beard off, and the bruises around his face from the last time - from seeing him slumped in the elevator that night barely a week ago - seemed to be healing. I briefly wonder about the shallow stab wound in his side and how the bruised rib is doing. 

And how is it that I know these things I shouldn't? Because one week ago, I saw those bruises; I sewed up that wound. 

My 
one
 one night stand, the one man I never expected to see again even if I haven't been able to get him out of my head for the last eight days, is standing in a tuxedo, right in front of me, at my sister's wedding.

What the 
hell 
is going on here?

My brain is still trying to get my mouth to work and say 
something
 to the grinning, criminally good looking man standing in front of me, when the door to greenhouse bangs open.

"
There
 you ar- Oh, hey!"

Hudson, my very soon-to-be-brother-in-law, smiles at me, “Good, looks like you two found each other."

Huh?

"I mean, wow, how long's it been since you guys even last saw each other?"

Warning bells start to sound inside my head, slowly at first and then building louder and louder, until there's an audible ringing in my ears. Hudson opens his mouth again, and the words that tumble out have my heart jumping up into my throat as the floor practically drops out beneath my feet; "Quinn, you know Logan, right?"

Oh God; oh holy fucking shit-balls. No-no-no-no-no...

The words are screaming through my head as I whirl around almost in slow motion to lock eyes on him. I can see the same horrible shock mirrored across his face as his eyes go wide as the recognition dawns on him too.

"You know Logan, right?" 

God
, do I know '
know
' him? 

I know how his lips taste. I know how his tongue feels buried between my legs. And I know how his cock feels as he grabs my hips and slides deep inside of me. Yeah, I think it's safe to say I know Logan Dempsey. 

Except, I sure didn't know who he was 
then
; not 
that
 night.

Of all the men in all the world, it had to be him. The one night stand that never should have happened; and in half an hour my sister is going to marry his brother, which basically means we're family. 

I'm barely breathing as his eyes lock in on mine. And it's almost still in slow motion when he grins and sticks a hand out; "Great to see you again, 
Doc
."  

Oh, fuck.

Oh fuck me fucking sideways.
 

You know that dream you have where you go to school with no pants on or some shit? Yeah, well that's what this feels like. Except this isn't a dream and the reality is staring me in the face with wide, accusatory bright blue eyes. The girl from that night barely a week ago; the girl who patched me up and probably saved my ass. 

The girl who stayed in my bed afterwords and fell asleep on my chest. 

Oh, and the girl who later slid down my cock and rode me like a woman possessed until we were both screaming for air. Fuck, she looked strangely familiar before, but she looks like original sin staring me in the face now. 

Quinn Archer; William Archer's daughter. I
slept with
 the daughter of the man who brought me up in the world from nothing, gave me the gilded life out a fucking book, and taught me to be a man. 

And I fucked his daughter. Oh, and her sister is basically my future sister-in-law; future as in thirty minutes from now. I'm suddenly horrified at the shit I gave Hudson when I first heard about him and Reagan, William's second daughter.
I mean what are the fucking odds?!
They're actually too much to even comprehend, and I
know
odds. I mean of
all the girls
in
all the world
, THIS has to be the random chick who found me that night? I can still remember her hands - so firm and so unflinching as she sewed and patched me up. And then her lips; yeah, I can definitely remember those lips. They're the same pouty lips parted in shock and probably the same jolt of fear I'm feeling right now as she stares at me, but damn do I remember how they felt crushed against my own as she moaned into my mouth. 

Fuck. This is literally the last girl on the whole fucking planet I should have anything to do with besides a friendly nod or a boring conversation about work at the odd Christmas party. 

Protect them
. William's words reverberate through my head, filling the deafening silence between my ears. The Old Man's dying words were to make sure his daughters were safe and protected. I'm fairly confident that grabbing Quinn's hips and pulling her back against me as I bury my cock inside of her doesn't count much in that department.