Page 47 of The Devil's Reward
I wondered before if asking her out was a bad idea, if I was just fooling myself, but seeing her now, I know I made the right choice.
“Not a chance, gorgeous,” I tell her firmly, letting my hand slide up her spine to rest lightly on the back of her neck so she can’t look away. Her eyes are widen with shock at my declaration. “I’m not your ex, and I like you exactly the way you are. I think you’re sexy as hell, a strong woman who’s been through far more than most, and you have a kickass daughter that’s going to keep you on your toes as she gets older. I want to know everything I can about you. What makes you tick, what makes you laugh and smile, and how you manage to keep that little firecracker of yours out of jail.”
“Even after all of that?” she whispers, like she still can’t comprehend it.
“Even after all that,” I confirm. “Did you think it would send me running?”
She gives a small shrug. “Most men would…”
“I’m not most men, gorgeous. I was Special Forces, remember? I can handle anything you throw at me.” I brush my fingers subtly against the back of her neck and bite back a smug smile when she gives a small shiver in reaction. Her sitting in my lap has my dick taking notice, but he’s going to have to get a hold of himself because he’s not in charge.
She gives me a small smile. “I forgot about that. Why did you leave?” I tense slightly, and she loses her smile. “I’m sorry,” she rushes out. “That was rude. Forget I asked. You don’t have to tell me.”
Don’t I? She just told me all about her tragic past, so it’s not like I can keep mine to myself. The question is, do I tell her about Sam? I know I’m not ready for that discussion, so instead, I say, “I lost my team in combat about eight years ago.”
The sadness in her eyes is immediate, but there’s no pity. I’m not sure I could handle it if she pitied me. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I can’t imagine how awful that must have been for you. You were the only one left?” she asks carefully.
I nod, the motion stiff. “We were given bad intel, and my team lost their lives. I carried on because I had to, but when I got back to camp, I was done. I was hurt, and I lost my team. They tried to convince me to stay, offered me a desk job instead, but there was no way I was going to face another day in the Forces without my team.”
“Is that why you asked me about that woman? Samantha?” she asks softly.
I go rigid. Hearing her name coming from Quinn’s lips is almost too much. “Yes,” I say stiffly. “She was my teammate.”
“And I remind you of her?” Quinn asks doubtfully.
That question is a bomb waiting to explode. How do you tell the woman you’re interested in that she looks like your dead teammate? The one you were finally supposed to hook up with when it all went to hell?
“You do,” I say simply. “I thought maybe with your connections you might have known her or known of her,” I tell her. Not a complete lie. It could have been possible. “But knowing your story now, I know it’s not possible because this happened before everything with your ex.”
She’s silent for a moment. “I guess we’ve both been through a lot,” she murmurs. “Sometimes I don’t know how we survive it.”
“Because something gets us through,” I murmur after a moment, holding her gaze. “I live to honor the dead, and you live to prove him wrong. Memories drive us, and that means that we won’t let sacrifices go to waste. Yours for what you’ve done to right your husband’s wrongs, and me to honor the lives of my team.”
She is silent, but I can see that my words have hit their mark. Something shifts in her eyes and her entire body straightens, like they’ve lifted her up. She’s not a shy mouse anymore, there’s something underneath taking notice. I feel an answering burn in my chest, but I can only focus on the way her eyes hold mine, how her skin feels under my hand.
We stare at each other for a long moment, and I can feel the heat and tension building. She still looks a bit shy, but not like before. I can feel the heat from her body, the weight of her on my lap, and the softness of her skin under my hand. My gaze moves over her face, taking in the fullness of her lips, and wondering if they taste as good as I imagine. The tip of her tongue pokes out and she nervously wets her lower lip. I have to bite back a groan.
“Quinn,” I warn her softly. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, don’t do that.”
Her eyes widen further at my words. I fully expect her to try and pull away. Heat builds along her neck, and she swallows hard. I see the question in her eyes before she gets the nerve up to ask it. My cock jerks and I bite back a growl. She is pure temptation and I want to give in and take it all.
“W-What if I want you to kiss me?” she whispers so quietly I’m not sure I hear her right. I stare at her for a moment, and I can feel the tension and nerves radiating from her. “Of course, if you don’t want to, that’s okay too,” she quickly hurries on. “I mean, I didn’t ask you to come over here for that and—”
“Quinn,” I interrupt. She immediately stops and I cup my hand around the back of her neck again, pulling her forward so I can press my mouth to hers. She lets out a small squeak of surprise, but then she sinks into my body, her arms slowly going back around my neck to shift herself as I deepen the kiss.
It’s a quiet, simmering passion. Not the explosion I expected. No, this is so much better. It’s an exploration, slow, deep, and sensual, without the desperation that normally comes with passion. But it’s there, simmering under the surface, waiting to be ignited.
Her lips are soft on mine, and without moving my mouth from hers, I adjust her on my lap so she’s straddling me, my hands on her hips, holding her against me, letting her feel what she’s doing to me. My cock is hard as a rock, and I’ve never had this happen before. Not from a kiss that could be considered relatively tame.
Tame until my tongue strokes along her lip, and she opens for me, kicking my desire up to eleven. She moans softly and her tongue tentatively comes out to tease mine. I give a soft groan and deepen the kiss further, my grip on her hips tightening, making her sigh and lean forward, her center at the perfect angle to press against the bulge behind my zipper.
Her shyness dissolves, and the longer we kiss, the more comfortable she gets. One of her hands moves up into my hair, fingers sifting through it as she arches into me, and the kiss amps up even more.
It’s like a switch has been flipped and I don’t hesitate to meet her demands when she moans and rubs herself against me. I groan, nipping and sucking on her lips and tongue, grinding into her as our breathing becomes harsh, the passion growing.
Fuck, she’s perfect. And I need to stop this before it gets out of hand. I’d love nothing more than to lay her back on the table, strip her down, spread her wide, and taste every inch of her, but that’s not going to happen tonight. She’s not ready for that, and if I’m being honest, I’m not either.
Slowly, I pull my mouth away, ease the grip of my hands on her hips as I look at her. Her eyes slowly blink open, and I see glazed arousal in their green depths. Satisfaction surges in me, even as the arousal starts to recede and reality starts to set in. Her eyes widen and she quickly drops her hands from my hair and pulls her arms from around my neck. “Did, uh, did that just happen?” she murmurs.
