With a Twist (24 page)

“I thought that
went really well, don’t you?” Natalie asked Quinn after his family, Anthony, and Vivi had departed. By the time the meal was over, Natalie’s anxiety had evaporated. Telling them the truth about Vivi preparing the coq au vin had been the right thing to do. Had she not, her deception would have gnawed at her.

“I thought it went great.”

Quinn and she had cleaned up the kitchen and dining room, loaded the dishwasher, and were now relaxing in the living room. Quinn’s feet were stretched out on the coffee table, his arm around Natalie, who had her feet curled up beneath her, her head resting on Quinn’s shoulder.

“I told you my mother didn’t hate you,” Quinn continued.

He swung his feet off the coffee table, taking his arm from her shoulder. “I’m going to go check out Bernie’s CDs.”

“All right.” Music would be nice, though Natalie didn’t mind it being just the sound of their two voices.

Quinn’s head was tilted sideways as he walked up and down the shelves of CDs, his eyes scouring Bernard’s massive collection. Natalie thought there had to be at least four hundred CDs, maybe more. Odd that she’d never thought once to listen to any of them. He’d told her to make herself at home, but clearly, she hadn’t yet, not really. Bernard also had an incredible collection of DVDs she hadn’t investigated, either.

“See if he has Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto,” Natalie called to Quinn. “You know, your favorite Rachmaninoff piece?”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Do I detect a note of sarcasm in mademoiselle’s voice?”

Natalie put her hand over her heart. “
Moi?
Never.”

Quinn reached up and plucked a CD out from a high shelf, examining it.

“Do you like Kenny G?”

“He plays that mellow saxophone music, yes?”

“I think so.”

“Let’s try it, then.”

Quinn nodded, loading the CD in Bernard’s sound system. The smooth, mellifluous sound of a saxophone filled the large, airy space, light and relaxing.

“What’s the name of the CD?” Natalie asked.

“Oh. Didn’t even bother to check.” He picked up the CD cover. “Uh . . .
I’m in the Mood for Love: The Most Romantic Melodies of All Time
,” he murmured uncomfortably.

“Oh.” Natalie felt a surge of heat crackle through her as Quinn sat back down beside her, his hand reaching up to caress her cheek.

“I think it’s an appropriate title,” Quinn murmured seductively.

“Oui.”
Natalie took a deep breath, then began running her fingers through the thick, beautiful tangle of his hair. She didn’t want to be teased tonight. She wanted to be loved fully and love fully in return. “I want you,” she whispered.

“Really.” Quinn drew her into his arms, his lips just barely touching hers. “Tell me more.”

“It’s not just what I want,” Natalie managed with a jagged breath. “It’s what
you
want.”

Quinn’s gaze, already intense with desire, sharpened. “And what would that be?”

“Me.”

She began running her palms up and down his broad, muscular shoulders, the simple act exciting her beyond belief. Despite her bold declaration, she was feeling a little tentative. Still, she would not stop. She moved to nuzzle his neck, gratified when a small groan escaped his mouth.

“You like that?” she whispered as she began planting hot, tiny kisses along his jawline.

“What do you think?”

“I think yes.”

“You think right.”

With torturous, almost infinitesimal slowness, Quinn lowered his mouth to hers, their tongues beginning their delicate dance, which soon turned frenzied. Natalie knew if she tried to explain it to anyone, they’d think she was crazy, but he tasted unmistakably of Quinn, just as he smelled unmistakably of Quinn. All her senses knew him intimately.

Quinn’s hand moved to her breasts, his fingers circling her nipples through the material of her shirt, producing such an agony of lust she almost couldn’t take it. “Take me to bed,” she whimpered. “Please, God, take me to bed.”

Quinn chuckled. “You’re a very demanding lady.”

“Yes, but you like it. Don’t deny it.”

“Believe me, I’m not.”

He stood, extending a hand to her. Trembling, Natalie took it, leading him down the hallway to the master bedroom, trying hard not to betray the eagerness threatening to overtake her as she led him into the room toward the king-sized bed. She untwined her fingers from his to switch on the bedside lamp, its muted light perfect for just this occasion. Head swimming, she pulled back the bedspread to reveal the crisp white sheets she had just laundered that morning, their fresh scent wafting up to tickle her nose.

Eyes pinned to hers, Quinn kicked off his shoes, and Natalie did the same. She could still hear the slow, smoky jazz playing in the living room, distant now but no less seductive.

“C’mere,” Quinn said as he stretched himself out on the bed, pulling her down beside him so they faced one another. He cradled her face in his hands, his gaze quietly intense as he once again put his mouth to hers, the taste of him familiar yet so intoxicating at the same time.

“Quinn,” she whispered.

“Mmm?” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her as his mouth moved to nip at her earlobe. Natalie closed her eyes a moment, luxuriating in the feel of their being stretched out together like this, the fit of her body against his still perfect.

“I want you to use the word you were originally going to say in the kitchen—you know, when you said I was the feisty girl you adore.”

Quinn pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes dark with desire. “I was going to say you were the feisty girl I love.” His voice turned hoarse with emotion. “God help me, but I do love you, Natalie.”

“I love you, too,” she said, tears filling her eyes. She’d dreamed of him saying this for so long. He was the only man she’d ever truly loved; no other had ever inspired such passion in her. His touch made her feel obscenely alive.

Desire crossed over the line to lust as she crushed her mouth against his, a small groan escaping her lips. Quinn drew her tighter to him, feeding her want. Wanting to touch, wanting to memorize the body that had always inflamed her, though she was loathe to admit it for so long, she moved her hands beneath the back of his shirt, caressing him with her curious fingers. Quinn inhaled sharply as her exploration took her lower down his body. She touched his hips tentatively and then grew bolder in her touch. His entire body tensed; she could tell he was fighting the desire within him to take her right now. But he held back, exciting her even more. He wanted it to be as good as she did. Crazed with need, she pulled her hands up to again drag his mouth to hers, her hands fisting in his hair.

It was too much for him. Groaning, Quinn rolled on top of her, his hardness against her nearly driving her to the brink. He looked down at her, the naked desire in his eyes so heart-stopping that she could not prevent herself from rubbing against him gently. Breathing hard, Quinn pressed his forehead to hers.

“I want this to be good. I want it to be worth the wait.”

Joy shot through Natalie. “Me, too.”

Quinn lowered his mouth to her throat, his kisses seductive and undeniably authoritative. She let her head drop back, reveling in the sensation. When he raised himself up to begin undoing the buttons of her blouse, her mind fogged. He was undoing the buttons very slowly, very deliberately. She could see it in his eyes, the way he was watching her, gauging her reaction. She decided to forgo words and show him with her body what he was doing to her as she rubbed herself against him more insistently.

His breath ragged, Quinn hastily pushed up her bra, his greedy mouth latching onto her left breast as one hand teased and circled the nipple of the right. Natalie gasped, pleasure possessing her as his teeth nipped, grazed, bit lightly. Each masterful lick of his tongue intensified the frenzy creeping up on her. She wanted this never to end, yet at the same time, she craved him desperately.

When he pressed into her with his whole body, Natalie thought she would explode. Panting wildly, she tugged on the hem of his shirt. Quinn reluctantly tore his mouth from her breast and, sitting up, quickly shucked his shirt, throwing it onto the floor. His bare chest was breathtaking: muscled, hard, with a line of dark hair trailing down the middle of his abdomen before disappearing beneath the waistband of his briefs. He carefully lowered himself back down, burying his face in her neck before whispering things in her ear no man had ever said to her before: tender words mingled with dirty ones that left her gasping with wild desire.

Quinn began a slow descent down her body, his hot mouth pressed against her skin as he kissed her hips, her belly, all the flesh she had that was revealed to him.
And then he paused. And then she begged.

“Please . . .”

Possession in his wild eyes, he undid the zip of her jeans and tugged them off, followed by her panties. His hands began blazing a slow, heated path up and down the insides of her thighs. Unable to control herself, she began rocking her hips as wave after wave of pure, unabashed pleasure assaulted her. The longing to have him moving inside her was overtaking everything. She could think of nothing else.

“Now,” she urged, hearing the desperation in her own voice.

Quinn’s groan was pure animal as he tore off the remainder of her clothing before stripping off his own. She thought he would take her now, as she’d pleaded, but he didn’t. Instead, his fingers began exploring her again, stroking the terrain of her hips before trailing ever lower. He paused, panting, then cupped her between the legs. Natalie could not control her quivering now.

“Please,” she rasped.

Quinn chuckled wickedly, then began to use his fingers to slowly circle her, the pressure unbearably light at first, then gradually becoming harder and faster in rhythm with Natalie’s body. Desperate for release, she let herself go, convulsing beneath his touch as her screams of pleasure filled the room. It seemed to go on and on, glorious in its perfection.

She was just beginning to return to herself when Quinn sat up a moment, grabbing his pants from the floor to pull out protection with which he sheathed himself. He slid back up her body and, carefully parting her legs, plunged into her. Barely able to hold on to consciousness, she wrapped herself around him, reveling in the sensation of him moving inside her, the white-hot pressure within her body beginning to build again, sharp and steep, until once more she was lost, crying out a second time, driving Quinn to madness.

Natalie clutched hard as his body shuddered with its own release.
Finally, he was fully and completely hers.

24

“Nat. Natalie.”

Natalie was one of those people who awakened instantly. Hearing Quinn’s voice in the dark bedroom, she bolted upright, blinking as he gently shook her shoulder.

“What is it?”

The light shining in from the hallway showed he was perched on her side of the bed, holding a large, steaming mug in his hand.

“I have to go,” he whispered. “I made you some coffee.”

“Go?”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry about this, but I got a call from one of my NYPD contacts that some business owner was found beaten to a pulp in a warehouse he owns on Twelfth Avenue and Fifty-sixth.”

“I didn’t hear your phone.”

Quinn brushed her hair off her forehead affectionately. “You were out like a light.”

Natalie accepted the mug of coffee woodenly, doing her best to hide her disappointment. This was not the way she pictured their first morning together. She’d imagined cuddling, spooning, and more sex as the day got away from them until finally, she had to rush into the shower to make her shift at the Hart on time. Once there, there would be a new level of ease and affection between herself and Quinn’s parents.

Instead, he was leaving her alone with a steaming cup of coffee and an empty bed.

Natalie squinted at the digital clock atop the night table. “
Chere
, it’s only seven o’clock.”

Quinn looked perplexed. “So—?”

“Well, can’t you tell your police friend to call another reporter at your newspaper?” Natalie asked, trying to stifle her frustration. “There must be others.”

“No.” Quinn sounded irritated. “Nat, I told you—”

“Yes, yes, I know. It just would have been nice . . .”

“I know.” He picked up a strand of her hair and kissed it. “Look, honey, I have to run.” Her disappointment retreated for a moment when he treated her to a long, slow kiss. “I’ll try to shoot you a call at some point. Otherwise, I’ll probably see you at the Hart tonight.”

Natalie sighed resignedly. “Okay.” She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Last night was beautiful.”

Quinn grinned.
“Très magnifique.”

Natalie kissed him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Later,” he said, walking back into the hall. Seconds later, she heard the front door close.

Natalie took a sip of the coffee, then put the mug down on the nightstand and stood, rubbing her arms to ward off the room’s chill. Her gaze played over the tangle of bed-sheets, a reminder of last night’s passion. The sight should have made her bloom with happiness; instead, she felt hollowed out and lonely.

She sat back down on the edge of the bed, taking a sip of coffee. How many women before her had sat just as she was sitting now, alone in the early morning as he’d flown out the door on his way to what might or might not be a major story? She cast it from her mind. She was the one who was different from them. She was the one who would let him be who he was. Right?

She threw on her robe and, mug in hand, walked out into the living room to sit on the couch, her feet curled up beneath her. She knew Quinn loved her, yet his not being here now was bittersweet. It had never been a word that she’d particularly liked.