Quinn's Woman (17 page)

The door opened. He’d showered since she’d last seen him, and had changed his clothes. But he hadn’t recovered. There was still something dark and bruised lurking in his eyes.

He didn’t speak. Nor did he shut the door in her face. Instead he stepped back to let her enter.

She did. When he closed the door behind her, she decided to be completely honest.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she said.

He wore a T-shirt tucked into jeans. He was lean, muscled and broken. She couldn’t explain the latter, but she felt it down to her toes. Something inside of him had shattered.

The thought of his pain propelled her across the carpeting. She walked up to him, put her hands on his shoulders, raised herself on tiptoe and kissed him.

She couldn’t explain her actions or predict his response. Before she could pull back or even call herself a name for being so stupid, his arms came around her and hauled her against him.

One second she was standing, the next she was pressed against him, her breasts flat against his chest, her fingers tunneling through his hair.

His hands were everywhere. Her back, her hips, her rear. Even as he tilted his head and swept his tongue across her bottom lip, his fingers brushed against her stomach before reaching higher,

She parted and he plunged inside. He circled her tongue, claimed it, then retreated and bit her lower lip. As she gasped with surprise and a jolt of passion, she felt his hands cup her breasts. He explored the full curves. Fingertips danced across her tight nipples. He flicked the tips with his thumb. At the same time he drew her lower lip into his mouth and sucked where he’d bitten her.

Wanting overwhelmed her. Her heart rate increased, as did the sound of the blood rushing through her body. Between her legs moist warmth invaded, making her slick, swollen and ready. She wanted to rub against him like a cat. She wanted to purr. Instead she ran her hands up and down his back, reveling in his strength, his maleness.

He tugged at the front of her shirt, pulling the fabric from her jeans. Even as he kissed her jaw, her neck, then licked and bit her earlobe, he worked the buttons free. When he shoved it down her arms and tossed it on the floor, he dropped his hands to her hips and drew her pelvis against him. He was aroused and he ground himself against her.

She caught her breath and found herself lost in his dark gaze. Passion tightened the lines of his face. He wanted her and his need increased her own.

Still staring at her face, he slipped his hands up her back to her bra. With nimble fingers he unfastened the clasp. The plain cotton bra fell down her arms, and she let it fall to the floor.

He dropped his gaze to her chest. She watched him watch her as he cupped her bare breasts in his hands. When he bent low, she braced herself for the sensual assault of his kiss. Seconds later firm lips claimed her right nipple. Liquid fire roared through her. Her head fell back as he licked and sucked her sensitive skin.

Her thighs trembled. She had to hold on to him to stay standing. Every cell in her body delighted in his touch and the promise of what was to come.

Without warning, he bent low and wrapped his arms around her legs. He picked her up and carried her the few feet to the bed. But instead of straightening after he set her down, he dropped to his knees and went to work on her jeans.

He quickly unfastened the belt, then undid the single button and the zipper. When he’d pulled the fabric down to her knees, he leaned in and kissed her flat belly.

D.J.’s entire body clenched. She couldn’t part her legs, nor could she run. When he pulled down her panties, she stopped breathing. When he used his fingers to delicately open her, then touched her most sensitive place with his tongue, she had to grit her teeth to keep from screaming.

One stroke, then two. Muscles rippled. Heat grew. The need, oh, how the need filled her until it was impossible to think of anything else.

“Wait,” she breathed, and sank back on the bed. “One of us is too formally dressed.”

Quinn looked at her. Some of the darkness had faded from his eyes and he smiled. “Fair enough.”

He stood and tugged off his T-shirt. While he worked on the rest of his clothing, she took off her shoes, socks, jeans and briefs. Kneeling on the bed, she reached for her braid and began to unfasten the thick plait.

Quinn swore.

She looked up and saw him standing, jeans open, feet and chest bare. His gaze roamed her body. He swore again.

She realized she was kneeling naked on his bed, her legs spread, her arms up. Aware of her vulnerability, she waited for apprehension to chill her enthusiasm, but it never came. Instead she felt proud that he found her attractive.

He shook his head. “You’re a hell of a fantasy, D.J.”

He shoved down his jeans and briefs as he spoke. His arousal sprang free.

He was large, thick and more than ready. She did her best not to think about what it would feel like when he was inside. Instead she finished loosening her braid, then tossed her head. He made a noise low in his throat and dove onto the bed.

He crashed next to her, brought his arms around her and pulled her down. Their mouths met in a hot, frenzied kiss that made her strain against him. He caressed her breasts, then slipped lower to the swollen wetness between her thighs.

The second he touched her there, she knew she was in trouble. The wanting was too great. Need made her whimper and squirm and surge toward him.

Just for a second, she told herself, trying to stay in control, She would let him do this just for a second. It felt so good. Too good to make him stop.

He moved slowly, as if discovering. When he brushed across her most sensitive spot, she caught her breath. He did it again and again. She could feel herself tensing, readying. So close. If he didn’t stop, she wouldn’t have a choice.

Deliberately she put her hand on his wrist and pushed him away. At the same time, she clamped her lips over his tongue and sucked until he shuddered.

Pulling back slightly she said, “Tell me you have protection with you because I don’t.”

“What?” His dark eyes were unfocused. He blinked, then grinned. “Sure thing, Daisy Jane.”

She swatted his arm. “Stop calling me that.”

“Why? It’s your name.”

He rose and walked into the bathroom. Seconds later he appeared with a box of condoms. He tossed them onto the nightstand, then returned to the bed. She knew what he planned even before he slipped his hand between her legs.

“Wait,” she told him. “I want you ready.”

Quinn started to protest, but before he could get up a head of steam, she bent down and took him in her mouth. He groaned low in his throat. As she teased him with her tongue, she reached for the box of condoms.

When he was breathing heavily and sagging against the bed, she raised her head and opened the box. He watched her slip on the protection.

Before he could shift toward her, she knelt over him and slowly settled on his arousal. He grabbed her hips.

“D.J., wait,” he gasped. “I want you to –”

She sank lower. “I will,” she told him. “Just let’s get you going.”

“I’m already there.”

She smiled and slowly raised and lowered herself over his arousal. He felt good, she thought, holding on to her control. Too good. It would be easy to give in to the feelings surging through her. But she couldn’t. So she concentrated on letting him slip in and out of her, squeezing him with each stroke. The fingers on her hips tightened as he began to set the pace.

He moved one hand across her leg so he could reach her wetness. Even as she rode him, he rubbed his thumb against her swollen center.

Exquisite pleasure shot through her. She wanted to collapse against him, surrendering to the release. She was so close. Just a few more strokes. Just a few more...

No! She forced her mind away from what he was doing between her legs. Instead of letting go, she breathed his name. He opened his eyes and looked at her. While he watched, she gathered her hair and piled it on top of her head. The movement of her arms raised her breasts. She began to move faster and faster, pulling him inside of her. Her breasts bounced, her body rode him, she tightened her muscles, milking him until she felt him stiffen.

He swore again and replaced his thumb with two fingers. His pace matched hers. She was sliding over the edge. Control, she thought frantically. Control.

She dropped her hands to the mattress and pulsed her hips. The shift in her position forced his hand away and pulled him in deeper. At the apex of the thrust, she clamped around him and rocked.

He lost it.

Contentment filled her as she felt him shudder in release. His eyes sank closed, his body stiffened, then stilled. Between her thighs she felt the contractions slow, slow and finally stop.

She sighed and smiled. “Impressive,” she breathed.

Quinn opened his eyes. For a man who’d just had what felt like an amazing climax, he didn’t look happy. Instead of smiling back, he grabbed her and shifted so she tumbled onto her back. Then he loomed over her.

“What the hell just happened?” he growled.

Quinn stared into D.J.’s face, but couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. Her smile faded.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

She seemed genuinely confused.

He mentally grabbed hold of his temper. Okay, maybe he’d misread the situation. Maybe she hadn’t done it on purpose.

“You had your way with me,” he said, deliberately lightening his tone. “What’s up with that?”

Her smile returned. “I wanted it to be good for you.”

“What about you?”

“It was fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

He didn’t believe her for a second. She’d held back. If he didn’t know better, he would say she’d been damn close but had tried to distract him. Tried? She’d succeeded. But why?

To test his theory, he slipped a hand between her legs. She was wet, hot and more than swollen. He found the tight knot of nerves and rubbed it with his finger. Instantly her breath quickened and her pupils dilated.

But instead of letting him continue, she pushed his hand away and sat up. “Like I said – impressive.”

She started to slide off the bed, but he grabbed her arm and held her in place. “What’s going on?” he demanded a second time.

“Nothing.” She narrowed her gaze. “Would you please let go of me?”

“When you tell me why this whole exercise was about me.”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

“No. I want it to be about both of us.”

“It’s sex, Quinn. Nothing more.”

“I would have enjoyed sex. This was getting off.”

She flushed and turned away. He released her arm and watched her stand up. She was more beautiful than he could have imagined. Strong, curved, completely feminine. From her high breasts to the triangle of dark curls protecting her femininity, she was erotic, sensual and pure fantasy.

She’d shocked him when she’d shown up at his door. He’d almost told her to leave, but he’d been tired of being alone. Then she’d kissed him and he’d realized why she’d come to see him. What she was offering. Somehow he’d assumed it would be for both of them.

He pulled off the condom and tossed it in the trash, then watched her gather her clothes. She pulled on briefs and her bra. As she stepped into her jeans, he tried to figure out what had gone wrong.

Her lack of reaction hadn’t been about his technique. He might not be God’s gift to women, but he understood basic anatomy. He knew what went where and did his best to always make his partner see stars, But D.J. hadn’t let him. Every time he’d been close, she’d pulled back.

“You’re not leaving until this is settled,” he told her.

She eyed him coolly. “You’re going to keep me prisoner?”

“If necessary.”

“Big talk from a naked guy.” She shrugged into her shirt and fastened the buttons.

“Is it a control thing?” he asked.

She tucked her shirt into her jeans. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You could have climaxed. You were close. I could feel it. So what’s the deal?”

She walked to the mirror over the dresser and finger combed her hair. “There’s no deal.”

Like he bought that. “Control?” he asked, speaking more to himself than her. “But what’s the point? So you don’t enjoy sex. How is that a win?”

She spun to face him. “You got yours, Quinn. Isn’t that enough?”

“No.” He stood and put his hands on his hips. “It’s not how I do things.”

“So if she’s not screaming your name, you’re not a man?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, get over it. What happened today, or didn’t happen, wasn’t about you. It was about me. I don’t –” she turned back to the mirror “– I’m not built that way. My body doesn’t react.”

He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. “Are you telling me you’ve never had a climax? That you’re incapable?”

“Yes.” She turned back to him. “It happens.”

“Bull. You’re more in tune with your body than anyone I’ve ever met. I felt you reacting, D.J. You were close. You deliberately pulled back.”