Mile High Weekend (Opposites Attract Book 1) (22 page)

BOOK: Mile High Weekend (Opposites Attract Book 1)
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“Ginnie,” his said. “You
do
make me lose control. But in a good way. I’m just not used to feeling like this and I’m trying to process it, trying to acclimate to it. It’s not easy. But my temper is
not
your fault and it was stupid of me to let it get the better of me. All I wanted was to protect you.”

She touched his injured shoulder gently. “Promise me you won’t do it again.”

“Protect you?”

“Get hurt on my behalf.”

Quinn shook his head. “I can’t make that promise, baby. I’m the kind of man who fights for the woman he l – for the people he cares about.”

Ginnie heard the sudden adjustment in his statement and she knew what he’d been about to say.

He was the kind of man who fought for the woman he loved.

But it was too soon, both to say it and to feel it.  A crazy leap. 

That didn’t stop every fiber of her being from wanting to hear it.

“Quinn…” she trailed off, unsure how a girl was supposed to ask a man she barely knew to tell her he loved her.  And mean it. She chickened out. “Can you…umm…can you get in with me?”

Wordlessly, he stepped into the bath and draped his arms around her, and her careful examination of her emotions went out of her head as physicality took over.

Solid chest.  Protective embrace.  And his long, hard erection, pressed to her abdomen.

Yes. Oh, yes.

Ginnie drew her fingers along the corded muscles in his back and up the planes of shoulder blades, trying not to be as frantic as she felt.  His skin was warm now, and covered in a light layer of steam.  She liked the way her palms slid so easily over him as she brought them down again.  His ass was as firm as the rest of him, and she couldn’t stifle a moan as she slid her hands over it.

More. 
She needed more.

“Kiss me,” she half-begged, half-demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

And he didn’t just kiss her.  He slammed his lips to hers, tore her mouth open with his tongue, and plunged it into her.  He
devoured
her.  And it felt so good.  So right to be tasted like that.

Ginnie pushed herself to him.

Still not close enough.

She lifted a knee and draped it over his hip, then dropped a hand between them.  And touched him at last.  She gripped his smooth, rock solid erection in her palm and stroked him.  If she’d thought the kiss was hot, it had nothing on this.  She quickened her attention, enjoying how he throbbed in her hand.

“Fuck,” he growled against her mouth.

She knew it was an exclamation versus an invitation, but the word made her quake, and she couldn’t help but moan back, “Yes.”

Quinn scooped her from the tub and lifted her over the side effortlessly, and Ginnie marvelled at how natural it felt to be carried in his arms, even naked.

No.
Especially
naked.

He brought her to the edge of the bed, bent to pull back the covers, then laid her down gently and stood back.  His face was alive with tenderness, but as his eyes raked over her body, it grew heated.  Then scorching. 

Was visual foreplay a thing?

If it wasn’t before, it is now.

Each place his gaze landed lit up, then ached.  From her toes to her head, she was on fire with longing.

Why wasn’t he touching her already? 

Oh. Right. 

Because she was supposed to be in charge.

So
be
in charge.

“Now, Quinn,” she stated.

He moved toward her, then paused. “Condom.”

And fast as lightning, Quinn crossed the room, then returned, a little silver packet in his palm.  Ginnie couldn’t be bothered to stop and ask him where or when he’d grabbed it.  She was just glad he had.

She watched him rip it open and unroll it, incredibly turned on by the way his strong hands smoothed the latex over his shaft.  Her hips wanted to lift, and he wasn’t even near her yet.

When he knelt at the bottom of the bed, sheathed and ready, Ginnie let out a little whimper.  She couldn’t help it.  And her legs dropped open.

Quinn inhaled sharply, then moved forward to position himself over her.

“Baby?” he murmured.

“Please,” she whispered back urgently.

He kept his eyes on her as he eased into her, filling her exquisitely, almost – but not quite – painfully.

“Genevieve,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you forever.”

And then he began to move.  He rocked, not in and out, but inside, pulsing.

Oh.

Oh. Wow.

Oh. Fuck.

Ginnie didn’t know if she cried out the curse, or if it was in her head only.  But holy hell, he felt amazing.  He was way inside of her, his tip reaching a part of her that had never been touched before.  One that wanted to be touched, again and again.

He picked up speed, and now he
was
moving in and out, and it was as good as the other.  She could feel each thrust through her core, and soon she was lifting herself to meet him, perfectly in time.

Their rhythm was incredible.  Unsurpassed.

Ginnie was sure it couldn’t be topped.

But Quinn reached down, drew one of her feet up to his shoulder, and just like that, it was even better.  Because now each forward movement brought him to
that
spot, the one that was created just for him.  Again and again, he drove himself into her.

Then, without warning, he released her leg and flipped them over and he was
so very deep
inside of her.  Impossibly so.  And his hands were on her hips, guiding her up and down. 

Holy…Oh wow…Holy…

She couldn’t find a word that fit.  It was just –

“Quinn!”

Yes, that was the one.  It was just
Quinn.

His name left her lips again as the momentum inside her built to an almost unbearable level. “Quinn!”

“Yes.” His reply was a barely audible, desire-filled groaned. “Oh, yes.”

She moved forward and back and up and down and the heat spiralled inside of her spinning into a tight spring.  And with a shuddering, gasping cry, Ginnie came on top of him, releasing the insurmountable pressure he’d wound inside of her, pulsing against him.  He held her in place, and he was throbbing too, his breath labored as he climaxed with her.

Never, ever in her life had Ginnie imagined sex could be like that.

And if she’d been able to think of anything other than Quinn, she might’ve noted that it turned out that Lawrence was right.  They
hadn’t
had any chemistry in the bedroom.

And now she knew exactly what she’d been missing.  It was this sweet perfection. 

It was Quinn.

Thirty

 

Quinn held her above him, enjoying the last, drawn-out pulses of their mutual orgasm, staring into her incredible eyes, feeling her incredible body.  He’d never in his life experienced something so singularly heart-pounding-ly satisfying.

Why did we wait so long?

Then he remembered.  They
hadn’t
waited.  Two days ago, Ginnie was a stranger.

Incredible.

Quinn couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of not knowing her.

He slid his hands up her bare thighs, along her hips, then cupped her face tenderly before he finally released her so she could roll off.  She settled beside him, her fast breaths evening out until Quinn thought she was sleeping.

Then she spoke, stopping and starting with an endearing awkwardness. “Was that – Is it always like that for – I mean – with you – You know what? Never mind.”

“I can honestly say it has
never
been like that
for
me.” Quinn chuckled and trailed a finger down her bare shoulder. “As far as
with
me…”

She smacked his stomach lightly. “Shut up.”

“You
asked
,” he teased.

She sighed resignedly. “I guess I did.”

Quinn leaned back just enough that he could steal another look at the girl who’d so quickly and thoroughly invaded his heart in so short a time.

“Ginnie…”

“Mm hmm?”

Quinn paused, unsure what he wanted to say and finally settling on, “You’re extraordinarily beautiful.”

She colored. “Be careful or your sappiness is going to damage your bad boy rep.”

“Oh you think so, do you?”

“Yes.”

He kissed her forehead. “Well. If it helps any…I stole the condoms.”

“You what?”

“Stole them.”

Her eyes widened. “From where? When?”

“The store with the coats. I grabbed them with the intention of paying, but everything went south and they were still in my pocket, so…” He did a horizontal shrug. “I stole them.”

“Great. Now I’m an
accessory
.”

Quinn cocked an eyebrow. “As I recall, you were a perpetrator. But if you’d rather, I could go back and pay for them. Is that what you want?”

“Yes!”

He ran a finger along her elbow. “What if it was
only
that good because of the stolen condoms?”

“Then I guess we’ll have to settle for a one-time thing.”

Quinn knew she was kidding, but it made his heart squeeze anyway.  He slid his hand down to her wrist, lifted her arm over her head and pinned it there.  She wiggled, and he grabbed her other wrist and raised it up, too.

“Hey!” she protested.

“Take it back,” he ordered.

“Or what? You’ll shower me with compliments on my beauty?”

“Take. It. Back.”

She stared up at him like she was trying to figure out if the warning tone in his voice was a joke or not.  Quinn wasn’t sure himself.

“I take it back,” she finally said softly, and the pressure in Quinn’s heart released.

He leaned down and kissed her, pouring every ounce of tenderness he had into the contact.  When he pulled away, Ginnie’s sheet-covered chest was rising and falling rapidly, her bottom lip was damp, and Quinn already felt the next stirrings of desire.

“You
are
beautiful,” he told her. “And hell if I’m going to let this be a one-time thing. We’re going to use the
entire
box of stolen condoms before we even get close to that store again. Then
you
can tell the clerk why we’re paying for three more boxes when we’re only buying two at that moment.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Quinn?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I might be extraordinarily beautiful, but you…I think you’re the sexiest fucking thing
ever
.”

Quinn’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and she shot him a triumphant grin that made him pull her close and chuckle.

“I’ve ruined you completely,” he stated.

“Definitely.”

She put her head back onto his chest and Quinn traced the line of her spine.  It felt good and right to have her curled against him, making jokes and teasing and kissing and taking as much damned time as he liked to touch her.  It filled his mind with things he’d never thought about.  Ever.  A future with lazy Sunday mornings and white picket fences and stupidly fluffy dogs.  And – God help him – a blonde-haired, amber-eyed kid with Ginnie’s smile.

Are you fucking
nuts?

He thought he must be, because she wriggled a little closer, and her fingers made a slow circle up his stomach and the one kid
became
three
kids and the dog became a dog
and
a cat. 

But when Ginnie’s had reached the puckered scar on his chest, Quinn’s little daydream cut off as he stiffened automatically.

“Can I ask?” she wanted to know. “Or no?”

Quinn forced himself to relax.  Then forced himself to tell her the truth.  And to say the words he’d stumbled over before.

“As it happens, I’m not only the kind of man who’s reckless on behalf of the woman he loves. I’m also the kind of man who’ll take a bullet for a guy who doesn’t quite deserve it.”

He waited for her to comment.  To call him out on the insanity of mentioning the L-word.  Instead, Ginnie just went still.  So still that Quinn almost leaned down to check her breathing.  Then she inhaled deeply and circled the scar again.

“This is that grey area, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Very grey,” Quinn agreed, wondering if she was deliberately deflecting and wondering also if that’s what he preferred anyway.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He opened his mouth to tell her no, but what came out instead was a story he’d only spoken aloud once – in his official police statement, and then only because he
had
to – since it happened.

“It was supposed to be a routine drop,” he told her. “Meet up with the client, trade the goods for the cash, get home. The guy above me got sick at the last second. Pinkeye or something ridiculous like that. No one else was around, so my boss – PJ – decided to run the stuff himself. I warned him I thought going without protection was a bad idea, but he laughed and asked why I didn’t think I was capable of watching out for us on my own. I shouldn’t have let it get to me, but I did. Pride, maybe. So we went, just the two of us. Me and PJ.”

Quinn closed his eyes, remembering it.  Walking into the rundown house, seeing the guarded looks on their contacts’ faces and knowing, without a doubt, that they’d been set up. 

He’d managed to excuse himself momentarily, even gone so far as to dial his undercover contact.  Then he’d frozen, the code word sticking in his throat.  Eight full years undercover and it felt so unnatural to ask for help.  Like admitting defeat.  That hesitation gave just enough time for the shit to hit the fan. 

The screaming and the glass shattering.

In the time it took Quinn to drop his phone and make his way back to the living room, the place was exploding with cops.  Rife with tension.  Unbearable with back and forth hollering.

The rest had played out in slow motion. 

PJ, reaching into his coat.

The officer across the room, going for his weapon.

The split second where Quinn knew he had to choose between blowing his cover and saving the other man’s life.

And the latter winning out.

“Quinn?”

His eyes whipped open, and he realized a little belatedly that he was squeezing Ginnie’s hand too hard.  He eased his grip and tried to smile.  The sight of her caring eyes almost let him succeed.

“It was instinct, I guess,” he said, his voice a little rawer than he liked. “I dove between my boss and the bullet, and I woke up three days later in the hospital.”

The semi-heroic, mostly-stupid act was what earned him his retirement.  From both the Black Daggers and the police force.  It was an odd situation.  A unique one, by all accounts on both sides.  The bullet went in perfectly, then made its way cleanly out the other side.  No nicked arteries, amazingly little penetrating trauma.  Three months of recovery.  PJ James was eternally grateful for his life, and happy to cut him loose, and the police department felt it would serve no purpose to reveal Quinn’s identity.  Unbelievably…no strings. 

“I’m a lucky sonofabitch,” Quinn added.

Ginnie ran her hand over the scar. “Someone really should explain to you what
luck
means.”

“I distinctly recall telling you the same thing just this morning,” he teased.

“Yeah. Well. That was before. Clearly, your definition can’t be trusted.”

He started to argue, but her fingers had moved on, landing on the knife tattoo on his wrist.  Quinn braced himself.  If she pressed for details, he knew he’d feel compelled to tell her the rest of the truth, right then and there. 

Which is dangerous for both of us.

When she spoke, though, it was a statement, not an inquiry. “It was a gang, and you were running drugs.”

“Yes.” He caught her hand in his and pressed them to the ink together, tracing the curved blade.

“They put the outline in when you pledge.” He moved their fingers to the hilt. “Each of the lines represents a complete job. Three lines means you’ve finished your pledge.” Back to the blade. “The shading is for full members.” To the jagged tip. “The tiny break here signifies that I’ve been jumped out.”

“But?”

Quinn inhaled, wondering again how she could so easily read his feelings. “I saved PJ’s life and almost died in the process. As a result, I’m in the unique position of not owing the Black Daggers anything. PJ’s a bastard, but he’s got a thing about trust and a thing about loyalty and a weird sense of honor. He swore to me that he’d never ask me for a thing, so he won’t.”

“You sound like you admire that,” Ginnie said.

“I do,” he admitted. “PJ always knows where he stands. Kind of like
you
. Black and white.”

Ginnie smiled. “Did you just compare me to your
gang
boss and make it sound like a compliment?”

Quinn touched her lips and smiled back. “I think I did.”

She reached up and slid her hand beneath his fingers. “So you admired your boss, who was a bad man. But you left that life behind, and I don’t think that’s what’s bothering you.”

“No,” he agreed softly. “Ginnie…Even when you leave the life behind, it never really leaves
you
behind. I can’t remove the tattoo or what it means. I’ll have that association forever, no matter what I did before, or why I joined them, or what I do after. I can’t get rid of the way being in the gang changed me. It’s hard for me to even feel
normal.

The words hung in the air, the truth of them hitting him again.  It didn’t matter than the gang involvement was undercover work.  The things he’d seen.  And done…

Ginnie’s palm landed on his cheek, drawing him back to the moment in that way that only she could.

“You know, Quinn. Every normal moment I’ve had has been a fraud,” she said. “My mom, pretending to be healthy, right up to the end. My dad, smiling as he walked out the door on the last day before he turned me over to social services. And Lawrence, getting up every day, going to work, being married to me…” Her face got funny then, and she went on barely audible and sounding like she was in awe of her own words. “And me, being married to him. All a fraud.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve been searching for normal since I was a kid. Trying to make up for the things that were less than average in my own life. No mom, no dad, no chance. It’s taken me this long to realize I’ve been doing it wrong. I don’t
want
normal. I want
you
.”

Quinn lips turned up. “I know I compared you to a gang leader, but…
Ouch
.”

She didn’t smile back. “My point is, we grow and change and have scars and we forgive and we love. I’m not going to let you go just because everything in your past isn’t perfect. That wouldn’t just be hypocritical, it would be downright stupid.”

His own smile faded, not because what she said made him unhappy, but because he felt it so acutely.  The sentiment behind them, the passion they exuded – they matched his own so well, and he’d never been so damned serious about something.

Neither of them might be able to say the words directly, but he knew they shared them anyway.

We love
.

The phrase echoed in his mind as he drew her face to his and did his best to turn what was in his heart into a kiss.  He touched her with the leisure of someone who had time to do it again and again, and with the thoroughness of someone who knew just how privileged he was to be
allowed
to do it.  Then, for the first time in the nearly thirty years of life he had behind him, Quinn made love to a woman he never wanted to lose.  Hard and fast, then sweet and steady. 

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