“I guess that’s one way of putting it.” Back away from the blonde sitting on his bed, looking all tousled and warm from sleep. “She had a point, though. Sometimes I have to work very long hours.”

Lucy shook her head, and the light slid across her lips. “That’s crap, Quinn. We all have to work long hours sometimes. It’s not an excuse for infidelity.”

Again he fought the urge to grab her up and kiss her beautiful mouth.

“I’ve had boyfriends who were cheaters,” she continued perilously. “And they always tried to pin the blame on me, but it wasn’t my fault.” She placed a finger between her breasts and pointed to herself. “I gave them lots of sex. Good sex. They were just losers. And I’ve always figured that it’s best that you find something like that out before you marry a person. Or the next thing you know, you’ve got three kids while your husband is out picking up skanks in bars. Bringing home God knows what disease.”

Quinn swallowed. Hard. “Lots?”

Her hand fell to her lap. “What?”

“Lots of good sex?”

“Well, not with a lot of different people. I haven’t had all that many boyfriends, but when I do…yeah.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Or what’s the point?”

He had to leave. Do the honorable thing like he intended. Just get the hell out of the room while he could still manage to walk.

“I’ve always figured that if I’m going to bother getting naked with someone, I’m going to have a good time.”

He swallowed-hard. A picture flashed through his mind of her up against the wall, his mouth on her breast. “Jesus H.,” he forced from his suddenly raspy throat. Keeping his hand and all body parts to himself was the toughest thing he’d ever done.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re torturing me.”

For several heartbeats he watched her mouth, then slowly a smile tilted the corners, as if she hadn’t realized until that moment what he was talking about. “Do you want me to stop, Quinn?”

“Hell no,” he said just above a whisper. He was a masochist. “I want you to tell me how you give good sex.”

Chapter 14

Goodstuff: Seeks Man of Dishonor…

Lucy had let her guard down, and Quinn had snuck past. Her only excuse was that she was tired. Tired of being frightened and hurt. Too tired to fight her feelings for him anymore.

She gazed into Quinn’s eyes and the dark lust staring back at her, pulling her in with the promise of hot sin. Even if she couldn’t see it in his eyes, she could hear and feel it in the velvet timbre of his voice. It brushed across her skin, a warm and sensual caress that she hadn’t recognized until it was too late. It curled and warmed the pit of her stomach and heated her up from the inside out. “Good sex always starts with a man who knows what he’s doing. Who’s as interested in pleasing me as himself. Who knows the right spot to hit, and keeps hitting it all night long.” She pushed her hair behind her ears. “Now you have to answer one of my questions.”

“Shoot.”

Before things went any further, she had to know. “Was I just your job?”

“Sometimes.” She frowned in response, and his soft laughter filled the space between them. “I think if you knew how hard you made my job, you wouldn’t be frowning at me right now. The first night I met you in Starbucks, I thought you were beautiful and smart, and I kept forgetting that I wasn’t there just to wonder what it would be like to kiss you.”

“You’re kidding?” She hadn’t known that. Hadn’t even suspected.

“No. Then I did kiss you, and I wondered what it would be like to kiss you all over. Working my way from your forehead to the tips of your toes. Stopping at all the interesting bits and soft parts in between.”

Her stomach got squishy and her mouth got a little dry. “But you thought I might kill you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you’d think that might make a difference, but it didn’t. Even when we were pretty sure you were the killer, I still wanted you, Lucy. There came a point where I figured dying inside you just might be worth it.” His dark gaze burned her alive, yet he didn’t reach out. Instead he took a few steps back, away from her.

No man had ever thought she was worth risking death for. Beyond all rationale and reason, she loved him more than she could recall loving a man. Her insides got hotter and itchy, and she moved from the bed and walked toward him. She raised her hand to the side of his face, and he turned his head and kissed her palm, spreading those little tingles he always made her feel up her arm and across her chest.

He closed his eyes and took another step back. “I wanted you more than I can ever remember wanting anything in my life.” Her hand fell to her side, and he opened his eyes and looked at her. “I still do.”

She knew that feeling. “Then why are you moving away from me?”

“I told you that I wouldn’t touch you with any of my body parts. I spent last week lying to you, and you were hurt. That was my job. This is my life, and I want you to know that I can keep my word.”

Now? He was worried about that now? “That’s very honorable.” She bit the side of her lip to keep from smiling.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, sounding mildly amused.

She took a step toward him and slid her palm to the side of his neck. “I’m just wondering if I’m allowed to touch your body parts.”

“Hell yes.”

“You won’t think I can’t keep my word?”

“No.” He shook his head, and his jaw brushed her thumb. “Touch any part you want. I have a few ideas of where you can start.”

She raised onto the balls of her bare feet and brushed her lips across his jaw. “I have a few places in mind already, but I’ll let you know if I need your suggestions.” The scent of him filled her head and heart, and she opened her mouth and kissed the side of his throat. She heard the harsh intake of his breath next to her ear. She ran her hand across his shoulder and down his chest to feel his heart. It pounded beneath her touch, and she raised her face to his and gave him a teasing kiss that left his mouth chasing hers until he could take no more and raised a hand to the back of her head to hold her against his mouth. Then he dove in and gave her a hot, wet kiss that made her insides tumble.

She pulled back. “Quinn. You’re touching me.”

“What?” He took a shuttering breath and pulled her toward him, wanting more.

“You’re not supposed to touch me,” she said against his mouth as she gathered his shirt in her hands. She yanked it from the waistband of his jeans and pushed it up his chest. “I wouldn’t want you to compromise your honor.”

“Sunshine, I lost that battle at sixteen.”

“That sounds like bragging.” Lucy pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it behind her on the floor.

“Just stating a fact.”

She lowered her heels to the ground and slid her hands over his chest, combing her fingers through the short fine hair, feeling his hard muscles beneath her palms. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-six.”

“So, you’ve had twenty years of practice.”

“More if you count the years I practiced alone.”

She laughed as she kissed his neck and lightly bit his shoulder. “I’m thirty-four.”

“I know how old you are,” he said just above a whisper. “I know all about you.” Beneath her hands he remained perfectly still, but his breathing was harsh, ragged with the effort.

She wanted to know all about him, too, and seeing him naked seemed like a good place to start. The night they’d ripped at each other’s clothes, she hadn’t gotten a good look at him. She looked now. She took a step back and started with his shoes. She raised her gaze to the long legs of his worn Levi’s; her attention got stuck on the serious bulge in his crotch, and she forced her gaze upward to the slight curve of his waist and the happy trail that rose from the button fly and circled his navel. His stomach was as flat as a washboard, and short, dark curls covered the hard, defined muscles of his chest. She looked up past his wide shoulders and the thick column of his neck to his face. His five o’clock shadow had arrived right on time, and dark stubble covered his jaw and outlined his mouth.

Even if he didn’t touch her, his eyes told her how much he wanted her. His gaze burned with his need, touching her all over. She lifted a hand to the front of her blouse, and her eyes locked with his. Slowly she unbuttoned it and let it slide from her shoulders and fall to the floor. His gaze followed her hands to the snap of her jeans. She popped the snap, then lowered the zipper tooth by tooth. Quinn’s gaze turned so hot, she was surprised her pants didn’t catch fire as she slid them down her legs. Her panties slipped down on one side, and she pulled them up as she kicked her pants aside.

His hands curled into fists. “You’re killing me.”

The frustration in his eyes told her just how much he was fighting the urge to grab her and toss her on the bed. “Don’t die yet.” She lifted her hands to the center of her bra and unhooked it. “We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff,” she said as she held the cups in place with her palms.

“I don’t know if I’ll make it to the good stuff.”

She smiled and dropped her hands. She pushed the white straps down her shoulders and arms, and the bra joined her shirt on the floor.

He made a sound in the back of his throat. “You have great breasts. I could look at you all day. Every day and never get tired of the view.” He reached for her. “Come here, Lucy.”

She shook her head. “You promised to keep your hands to yourself.”

He looked at her through all that lust smoldering in his eyes and returned his hand to his side. “For now.”

She moved around behind him and pressed herself against the smooth planes and hard muscles of his back. The soft fabric of his jeans brushed against her belly, while his skin warmed her naked breasts and tightened her nipples. She lay her cheek against the back of his shoulder and slid her hands around his smooth sides to his abdomen and the hair that grew in the very center. She slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans and kissed the back of his neck. He shuddered as she slipped her hand between his jeans and boxer shorts. “What’s this?” she asked as she caressed his erection.