Undercover Lovers (26 page)

“
Depends how straight you
intend to get.” She teased his cock with her fingertips through his
jeans. “Sure you don’t want to share me?”

His eyes widened. “You
don’t—you can’t—”

“
No.” She had to giggle. “I
only want you. But I couldn’t resist.” She nipped his chin and
stroked his hardening length. “You sure do have interesting
clients, Mr. Madison.”

“
Apparently.” Shane waved
his check and grinned. “But they pay pretty well.”

“
Yeah. Maybe you’d give me a
discount on your services since you’re so flush at the moment.” She
traced his ear with the edge of her nail. “I still have a few more
inhibitions to conquer…and you know what? I think you do too.” She
smiled at his suddenly intent look. “How do you feel about a joint
striptease?” she asked, her breath fluttering over his cheek.
“Mutual lap dances. Me sliding all over your pole.”

His cock jerked in her hand.
“That sounds so…sordid.”

“
It does, doesn’t it?”
Grinning, she flicked her tongue along his curved lips. “I can’t
wait.”

About The Author

Multi-published author Cari
Quinn wrote her first story—a bible parable—in 2nd grade, much to
the delight of the nuns at her Catholic school. Once she saw the
warm reception that first tale garnered, she was hooked. She
attempted her first romance in junior high, long before she'd ever
read one. Writing what she knew always took a backseat to what she
wanted to know, and that still holds true today. Cari's genres of
choice include contemporary, romantic comedy, romantic suspense,
urban fantasy and paranormal. Recently she discovered erotic
romance. Oh, how far she's come.

Cari loves to hear from
readers! Please contact her through one of the ways
below.

Email:
[email protected]

Website:
http://www.cariquinn.com

To Christine Bell, who has
the most amazing ability to talk me into following my zanier ideas.
You are the nitro to my glycerin. To All The Members of our
Military, who do more than their part to keep our world safe. We
know you pay a high price to be warriors for us and we appreciate
you more than we can say.

For those of you who
sometimes lose your way, may you always have someone to help show
you the way back home.

The pounding on the door
damn near knocked Cade out of bed. He must have been more run down
than he thought, because he had completely slept through the
beeping blue light blinking madly on the digital clock next to his
lamp, which glowed an obscene time at him. He dragged his hand down
half his face, answering the knock with some obscenities of his
own.

“
Someone better be
fucking
dead
,” he
snarled as he dragged on a pair of sweats, then headed for the
front door of his cabin. He’d come here to leave town and all its
bullshit frustrations—one frustration in particular—behind. He was
supposed to get two weeks of fishing in a hidden cabin on a hidden
lake where the only thing not hidden were the goddamn fish. But
here it was, three a.m. on his first night and somehow, someone had
already tracked him down.

He threw open the heavy
wooden door and stopped his mental bitching in its
tracks.

“
Not quite dead,” the woman
with the beginnings of a hell of a shiner and a smeared bloody lip
managed to say with a crooked grin. Tall by most standards, her
ebony crown usually fit perfectly under his chin. Tonight, the top
of her head barely made it to the middle of his chest. She wasn’t
so much leaning on the lintel as she was slipping down it. Leaving
a streak of blood on the wood as she went. “For a minute there, I
gotta admit, it was kinda close.”

Cade caught her before she
landed ass first on the porch. Complaints obliterated, he lifted
her, kicking the front door shut before gingerly setting her on his
couch. She groaned as she settled on the rough but serviceable
cushions.

“
How bad are you busted up
this time, Trina?” Old training kicked in and he went straight to
the zipper on the chest of her white and blue leather jacket,
pulling it down quickly but carefully. This had to be the third
time he’d patched her up since they’d met—probably because he’d
made the colossal mistake of telling her that in his Marine days,
he’d been a medic. Left it behind after his last stint in
Afghanistan without a second glance, too. He’d washed too much
blood off his hands to ever want to do it again, but here he was,
already checking her for broken bones and any serious injuries as
if he were back on the battlefield. All the while, his gaze kept
coming back to the long slash in her white shirt and the dark red
stain spreading under her breast and across her belly. “Any trouble
breathing?”

“
No. Can’t be too bad if I
made it all the way up here, right? The ribs are tender, but I
don’t think anything’s broken. You don’t have to worry about anyone
following me, either. I left the bike at that truck stop a few
miles back at the highway junction. Didn’t want to lead anyone back
to you. Hoofed it the rest of the way up your mountain so I’m
pretty sure I’m gonna live.” Her arms sank to her sides, one
hanging off the edge of the couch, while she let him run his hands
over her body.

His mind cut away to the
last time they’d done this. The situation had been completely
different. His hands were shaking then too, but because she’d been
smiling, waiting for him to push her shirt up over her breasts, to
take what she was offering…

“
I’m most concerned about
the cut Frank gave me. It might need stitches.” She groaned,
oblivious to his memories. “Asshole shredded my favorite
jacket.”

He peeled the fabric of her
T-shirt over her ribs, baring a four-inch slice in her perfect,
golden skin. Skin that should never have been abused like this.
Given the arc, she must have just barely gotten out of the way of
Carter’s blade. Not out of the way enough.

“
I have to get my kit.” He
kept the cabin stocked for just about any emergency. There’d be a
suture kit in there. He’d know if she needed it once he got the
wound clean.

Trina’s hand clasped his,
dragging his attention from her body and back to those deep blue
eyes. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, Cade.” Her voice had
dropped to that husky, raspy tone. The one that always felt like a
slow lick from the base of his cock to the aching, sensitive tip.
“You’re the only one I can trust.”

Just like that, she had him
tied up in knots all over again.

Cade grunted. It’s what
she’d expect from him. Inwardly, he was having a hell of a time not
jumping up to get a gun and hunt down the son of a bitch who’d done
this to her. He knew Frank Carter well. Had dragged him into the
Sheriff’s Department often enough, not that anything ever stuck.
The sadistic bastard headed
Wheels Of
Pain
, a biker crew that based itself in the
usually quiet rural California town of Marketta. Carter’s offenses
ran from domestic violence to drug running to suspicion of murder,
and he had the record elsewhere to support all of it. Everywhere,
in fact, except Marketta. As soon as he hit the town limits,
suddenly Carter was so clean you’d think he’d been shat right out
of an angel’s ass. Him and every ex-con who ran with
him…

Including the impossible to
resist Katrina Killian.

Tamping down a gurgling
rage, Cade pulled his hand free and went to gather his supplies.
First things first, he grabbed his T-shirt from the chair and
dragged it on. Being half-dressed around Trina was an invitation to
trouble. Next, the kit was easy to get. As big as a fishing tackle
box, he kept it under the bottom shelf in the pantry. He stopped at
the cabinet beside the spartan dinner table and pulled out a bottle
of whiskey. Catching his own reflection in the mirror over the
cabinet, he took another precious second to pour himself a shot in
one of the many glasses stacked there. He threw it back, the fire
spreading down his throat for long seconds before finally fading
into a warm, smooth aftertaste. Blinking his stinging eyes, he
grabbed the bottle by the neck and went back to the couch. More
importantly, to the wounded woman waiting there for him.

“
Tell me I get a swig of
that.” Trina sighed. “After the day I’ve had, I could use some.”
She raised a hand for the bottle and, given he didn’t have much
else to numb her pain, he handed it to her readily. It had nothing
to do with his appreciation of the way she gripped the neck and
slid her full pink lips over the rim to drink it down.

He knew exactly how it felt
to be that bottle.

Or at least, he did.
Once.

It hadn’t lasted long
enough.

And it could never happen
again.

He lifted the heavy-duty
latches on the case and flipped open the lid to reveal the supplies
within. First things first, gloves. Then he’d clean her up and get
a better look at the field. “How about you tell me what
happened
this
time
while I fix you up?”

“
You say that like I’m
always bleeding around you.”

“
You are a woman who likes
attention.”

“
I like
your
attention,” she groused. “There’s
a difference.”

His hands stilled, but when
he looked at her face, her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed into
deep, shuddering grooves. “Whose attention did you have
today?”

“
Everyone’s.” Trina’s thick
lashes rose, her mouth quirking as she brushed unwanted moisture
from the corner of her eye.

Would she slap his hand away
if he tried to do it for her?

Without question.

Didn’t stop him from wanting
to, though.

“
Tell me something, Evigan,”
she demanded, clearing her throat and shifting restlessly against
the couch. Moment of weakness over, apparently. “You ever pull a
train in a dirty bar?”

That raised his eyebrows.
“Not that I remember, no.”

“
Well, I haven’t either and
today wasn’t going to be my first time.” Her body went taut beneath
the swipes of the towelette he used to clean the blood, before
relaxing with decided effort. Which sucked because that was the
easy part. “Carter doesn’t kill people that piss him off, not right
away. He’s a big believer in making them pay three times over
first. His plans for me involved ambushing the shit out of me and
throwing me like a chew toy to his men.”

He daubed the wound with a
gauze pad, forcing himself to keep his hands steady. Strangely
enough, being so angry he could strangle someone went a long way
toward derailing his usual reaction to the smell of blood and
antiseptic. “How’d you get out of it?”

“
Well, it turns out that
when two guys are holding you in place by your arms, your legs are
free to kick other people in the face and balls.”

He wouldn’t have thought it
possible, but she managed to draw a grudging grin from him.
Something about her always seemed to pull the humor out of him,
even when he’d thought it long gone. “I’m guessing you’ve known
that for a while.”

Her answering smile was
tinged with exhaustion. “It’s come in handy every now and
then.”

“
Doesn’t look like it did
you much good this time.”

“
That’s what you think. If
they’d managed to get me down, at least
Frank
wasn’t gonna get any. Steel toe,
baby. If he’s not in the hospital right now, it’s a friggin’
miracle.” She hissed as he irrigated the shallow—thank God—wound.
“Shit, Cade, why don’t you just pour the whiskey in? Might hurt
less.”

“
You wouldn’t have come here
if you didn’t want it done right, Tee.”

She made a face at the name.
She usually complained that it made her sound like a four-year-old.
As if the moniker “KK” sounded so much more mature.

“
Maybe I came for the
company.”

He grunted again. “We both
know I’m not fit for that.”

She sighed, the way she
always did when he said things that irritated her. “You’re about
the only one in this town worth spending time with and you know
it.”

“
That’s not true. There’s
good people here.”

“
You always say that, but no
one believes you. They’re all cowards and drunkards who turn their
backs rather than take a stand.”

“
I wouldn’t be here if there
weren’t people needing protection.” From
her
gang. Even if he didn’t say it, he
knew she heard the accusation. “Why’d he ambush you?”

Her face turned toward him,
her usual cocky grin nowhere to be seen. Instead a seriousness drew
lines around her mouth and shadows in her eyes. Didn’t seem right,
really. He was the one who did maudlin and brooding. She was the
one who dragged him into using the side of himself he’d almost
forgotten about. Worse, if he didn’t know better, he’d think the
shade of those shadows was guilt.