Under the Moon (43 page)

“Quinn.” He tried to pry her hand off his shirt and ended up pulling it over his head so he could slide back across the seat, as far away from her as possible. “Nick, get us to that hotel, fast.”

“What the hell is going on back there?”

Quinn barely heard the exchange. All she could focus on was the desperate
need
filling her. It had never been so bad. Why was she holding Sam’s shirt? She squinted at his bare torso and almost flung herself across the car to attack him. A groan slid out of her throat. She pressed her feet to the floorboards, forcing herself back into the corner of the seat. She couldn’t do this. Sam wasn’t hers. But her body didn’t seem to care. The power surged behind its barrier, hunger cramping her insides.

“What the fuck?” Nick slammed on the brakes at a light and spun around, his arm over the back of the seat. Quinn caught the fire in Nick’s eyes. She knew it was anger, but it fed hers anyway. She lunged for him, catching the back of his head with one hand and landing on his mouth in an open, carnal kiss. Her tongue dueled with his until someone behind them honked and he wrenched away.

“Jesus Christ. Get her under control.” He slid back into his seat and drove, weaving between cars to get down the street faster. Quinn stretched her arms over the seat and into his shirt, her palms rubbing over his nipples. She purred in the back of her throat.

“How?” Sam demanded. “She drew on a hell of a lot of power tonight, Nick. She’s always like this.”

“Always?” Nick’s voice went a little high. He squirmed but couldn’t get out of her reach.

“Not like
this
, this.” Sam tugged on Quinn’s arms and managed to pull her back. She slid on the slick seat until she was lying on her back, Sam somehow over her. Her hips lifted to rub against him. Her nails sliced into the leather seat under her, her grip so tight, trying to keep herself from grabbing Sam. He was a body—a hot, hard, familiar body that hers knew what to do with, and Quinn was losing the battle to stop it. The burning ache grew until she whimpered and rolled, trying to get to the floor, the only place away from Sam.

He cursed. “She gets horny,” he managed to say, holding her in place. “I always thought it was the moon, but it must be the amount of power she draws. She drew more power than usual. A lot more.”

It was so much more than that. He didn’t know the power was still there, inside her, craving. Demanding. It swelled, threatening to rip her apart if she didn’t feed it. Nick’s voice filled the car, profanity-laced frustration, but the growl burrowed deep into her. Quinn closed her eyes and rode the wave, so lost now she barely noticed when the Charger screeched to a halt at the hotel valet.

Nick leaped out, shoved his seat forward, and pulled Quinn out of Sam’s arms and into his. She sucked in air, desperate to force down the clawing need, but when Nick pulled her tight against him, no doubt to keep her in control, her tongue traced his collarbone. This time when he cursed, his voice was lower, more intimate. It slid inside, marking her. When she inhaled, it wasn’t exhaust-laden city air filling her lungs, but Nick’s scent. The desperation dimmed a little. This was okay. She didn’t have to fight so hard against this.

“She shredded my shirt!” Sam cried from inside the car. The valet stood at the driver’s door, staring at Quinn and Nick, then at Sam.

“Embrace your inner stud and let’s get her upstairs, dude.” Nick kept a tight grip on Quinn as they went inside. It made her hotter, but she couldn’t form words to tell him so.

They wrestled her to the elevator, casting a simultaneous “She’s drunk” look at the reception desk. She thought she should be annoyed at that but couldn’t think past the haze to care. If Nick wasn’t inside her soon, she’d scream.

As soon as the elevator door closed, she slammed Nick against the wall and plunged her tongue into his mouth again. He held her rigidly, but his erection was hot against her abdomen. In seconds, she had his belt unbuckled and was unbuttoning his jeans when he stopped her.

“God damn it!” she said.

Sam pulled her away from Nick. Quinn struggled and they fell sideways, against the other wall. Nick hit their floor button again, hard. His short hair stood on end, his mouth was swollen, and dear lord, Quinn wanted him. She reached out and snagged the collar of his shirt, pulling him off balance. His stagger sandwiched her between his hard body and the wall. The rail digging in to the back of her hips would leave bruises, but the pain sent a bolt of pleasure up her spine. She rubbed her body up against him.

The elevator dinged. Nick wrenched away as Sam leaned out to check the hall.

“Coast’s clear. Come on.” He ran down the hall and opened the suite door.

Nick maneuvered Quinn into the room. Sam slammed the door and slumped against it.

“What do we do?” Nick asked Sam. “Lock her in the bedroom?”

“We can’t leave her like this. It won’t abate. She needs to have sex. Besides, even if we
could
lock the door from the outside, it wouldn’t hold her. If we left her here, she’d find someone else.”

“She’s not goddamned having anyone else,” Nick growled. “I’ll take her to her room.”

Silence rang between them. Quinn managed to hold herself still, though she panted a little, held up to Nick’s chest by one solid arm. She couldn’t see either man’s face, but tension crackled, Sam’s unspoken protest a challenge in the air.

Then the tension disappeared. A door closed. Sam had gone into one of the bedrooms.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Nick maneuvered Quinn into the room she was supposed to share with Marley and closed the door. “What am I—”

But Quinn had stopped fighting, meager though her efforts had been up to now. She could have what she so desperately needed. Wanted. She bunched the soft cotton of Nick’s T-shirt in her palms and drew it up over his head. It drifted to the floor. Nick braced her hips between his hands while she dug hers into his hair and swept her mouth up over his neck to his ear.

“Fuck me, Nick.”

With a groan he pulled her tight against him, his feet spread wide as he plundered her mouth. She soared, but she was riding desperation, not pleasure. This wasn’t even close to enough. She yanked at the shirt Nick had given her, fabric tearing, then her jeans and his. Nick didn’t help, as if his slower movements could calm her. But her throat squeezed until she couldn’t swallow, only the taste of his skin under her open mouth easing the tightness. He lifted her and laid her on the bed, where she sank into the plush mattress, silky pillows supporting her head and shoulders. The fabric soothed her burning skin. She wriggled her body deeper and tilted her head back, gasping for air. She cried out, wordless begging, the ache tightening into a piercing pain. She couldn’t see again, everything a haze of swirling gold and white and pearlescent color, until she wasn’t sure what was real and outside of her, and what was inside, trying to force its way out.

Then Nick’s warm hands touched her thighs, giving her something to center herself with. His shoulders moved beneath her knees, and then his tongue was on her, gliding, stroking. She did scream then, ecstasy rocketing through her, gone too fast and leaving behind the same hunger, though now the world had solidified. He tongued her again, a long, hard finger sliding into her wetness at the same time, sending her up and over with a long, low moan. When the wave passed, her body had relaxed into the comforter, and Nick propped himself over her, his green eyes dark, intense.

“You okay?” he murmured.

Quinn managed a nod. She lifted her arms around him to stroke the skin of his back. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but already the hunger had doubled again. She raised her head and bit down on his shoulder. He grunted and pulled away, but his cock had flexed against the inside of her thigh.

“Fill me, Nick.” She closed her hand around him and squeezed. Nick’s rough hand stroked her breast, and electric flame flickered into her. “God. I need— Nick, please. I need you.
Now
.”

“I need a condom.” He nuzzled her ear, her throat, and went lower to nip her other nipple with his teeth before rising back up and pressing her entire body into the bed. Quinn couldn’t get a grip on the meaning of his words. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulled him harder onto her body, though he was already crushing her so she couldn’t breathe. His cock nudged her opening and she sobbed.

“Hold on, Quinn.”

He was gone only seconds, but the abandonment set loose the scream that had threatened since the lust took over. He landed on her, his mouth covering hers, tongue filling her mouth, taking the scream as he finally,
finally
pushed into her, so deep her body convulsed before loosening and drawing him in even farther. She tightened around his cock, her whole body tense beneath him. He rocked upward, pressing hard against her clit, then rocked again. His hands clutched her head and he kissed her, his mouth clinging, devouring, hot and hungry.

The orgasm pierced Quinn but caught, going nowhere, imprisoning her. She ripped her mouth from Nick’s so she could tip her head back and arch. Her nails dug into his ass while he pulled out and stroked deep again, then again, harder and faster each time. The sweet agony tightened until Quinn couldn’t bear it any more. She clutched Nick’s shoulders, turned her head toward him, and whispered, “I love you.”

He’d just murmured the words back when Quinn exploded. In the fiery shower of light, she lost all sense of herself, all awareness of anything but the ecstasy pouring through her, endlessly throbbing, emotion and power intertwined and overcoming her entire being, until at last it cast her into darkness.

Chapter Seventeen

Romantic relationships are more complicated when one of the partners is a goddess. It takes a strong man to adapt to the extraordinary abilities of women like us, and we face the difficulty of discerning whether they want us for who we are, or for what we can do.

—Society Annual Meeting,
Special Session on Relationships

…

The hotel room was silent when Quinn left the next morning for her hearing at the Society. Nick hadn’t moved the entire time she showered and dressed. He slept heavily, clearly as exhausted as Quinn had been. She’d slept a deep, healing sleep that settled the power into a slow churn inside its shield. Her rested body seemed to accommodate the foreign energy more willingly, her head clear, the overwhelming, biting lust sated.

The sitting room had been dark, Sam’s door stayed closed, and Quinn didn’t try to wake either of them to go with her to the hearing. She needed to get used to being on her own.

The cab let her off in front of the Society building ten minutes before nine. Alana led her to the conference room, where the board sat waiting for her.

“Before we begin,” Quinn said after Barbara had greeted her, “I’d like to know what happened to Marley.”

“She’s not being detained. We agreed that the leeching she endured is far more personal punishment than any we can exact. However, she is required to remain in Boston and work for the Society as an educator and counselor for the next two years. After that, she will be free to move on.”

Quinn nodded. It was a fair decision, and she believed Marley would embrace her role, to help ensure no other goddess fell into the trap she had.

“Shall we begin?” Barbara motioned for Quinn to sit. She didn’t want to, but after the fight with Anson and her night with Nick, she was sore and tired.

Barbara nodded at the vice president, who read off a sheet of parchment-like paper. “The purpose of this hearing is to clarify the events of November fifth relating to Anson Tournado and the goddess Quinn Caldwell. Alleged transgressions on the part of Ms. Caldwell include doing harm to non-powerful humans and draining of power from the opposite.” She set the paper down and looked at Quinn.

She swallowed and got her thoughts in order. “The harm to non-powerful humans was self-defense. They were armed and had attacked us before. They entered the premises—”

“Which premises were those?”

“An empty warehouse we’d found. I wanted a facility that would eliminate potential collateral damage, after Anson had penetrated hotel security and leeched Marley Canton in our suite.”

Barbara inclined her head. “We will take the self-defense argument under advisement. Please address the draining of power.”

“I watched Anson leech my sister, and I was powerless to stop it. I knew there was only one way to defeat him.” She remembered the despair when she’d almost failed, and rasped out, “I fully believe draining the power he’d stolen from those to whom it rightfully belongs was the only recourse available.”