Nail Down (Men out of Uniform Book 2) Read online

  Jesus, Quinn dealt with this attitude on a daily basis? The kid might act all tough and aggressive, yet he’d stood, head bent, while Quinn had scolded him like a naughty puppy. Respect and deference had been in every line of his body for a woman half his size. And he’d hung around to make sure she was okay when a stranger had been in her classroom.

  Ward took Gus’s card out of his wallet, held it out. “Meet me there tomorrow after school. Five. Sharp.”

  The kid looked at the card, narrowed his eyes. “What for?”

  “I’ll set you up with a full program. Show you all the equipment. Get you—”

  “Fuck you, man.”

  Ward wrestled back the annoyance. He was only trying to do the kid a fucking favor.

  “You keep looking out for Quinn when you can? You can work out there any time you want. Free. It’s top of the line. Latest equipment. Open twenty-four hours.”

  The chin lifted again. “No.”

  Ward ground his back teeth together. “No, what?”

  “I’d look out for Ms. Devlin no matter what. I don’t need no payment for that.”

  “Fair enough,” Ward forced the words out and swallowed back the thickness in his throat that had come out of nowhere. Jesus, for what? Some punk who reminded him too much of himself? Because maybe, just maybe, the kid had a core of integrity most adults didn’t even understand?

  “The offer’s still there all the same.”

  “Why?” The kid gave him a scathing look up and down. “I looked out for her before you and I’ll look out for her after you.”

  Right. Not that he’d needed that kick in the ass to remind himself of that.

  “Why?” he bit out, leaned in and got right in the kid’s face as he pointed back to the classroom. “Because she thinks you’re something special and I’m willing to take a chance to see if she’s right.”

  * * * * *

  Quinn hadn’t heard from him since his impromptu visit to her school and she’d figured she probably wouldn’t. She’d never been the one to make a move with a guy before. Honestly, maybe she’d never cared enough to. Now it was time for her to step out of that comfort zone in 3…2…1.

  She knocked on the heavy door before she chickened out. Maybe he wasn’t even home. Maybe he wasn’t alone. She didn’t know how this stuff worked. She was so out of her depth here. What if—

  The door swung wide and Ward filled the space. How could she have forgotten how big he was, how overpowering his presence? How gorgeous? He had on a pair of low-slung track pants, no shirt, no shoes. God, so not fair.

  He leaned against the doorjamb, making no move to invite her in. In fact, the stance blocking the doorway said it all. Great. He was going to be difficult.

  His body language might not have been welcoming, but his dark eyes raked her with a searing look she felt all the way to her toes. He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow and waited. If not for that first hot glance, she might have turned and run.

  He was big and mean-looking, especially with the scars on full display, yet he didn’t scare her. He couldn’t.

  “Um…I thought I’d return this.”

  Quinn held out the jacket he’d left at her house. It was a lame excuse, but the best one she’d been able to come up with.

  She sighed when he took it and tossed it onto the console table in his entry. Such a bummer. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d held it just to catch a whiff of the cologne he’d worn that night.

  “Thanks,” he bit out.

  Still he made no move. Well, she hadn’t expected this to be easy.

  She looked past him into the apartment. “Um…Hype, is he…?”

  “With Gus. You came to see my dog?”

  Quinn shook her head, cleared her throat. “Mason tells me you’re working with him at the gym.”

  “Yeah? So?”

  She fought back the smile because she saw his surliness for what it was—a defense mechanism, pure and simple.

  “So he appreciates it more than he’ll ever be able to tell you.”

  “He shows up on time. That’s all the appreciation I need.”

  And it was a sign of utmost respect. Ward would know that too.

  She swallowed against the dryness in her mouth. “Are you going to invite me in?”

  His eyes flashed and his body went rigid. “If you stay, we fuck.”

  Sensation—pure, hot, intense— surged through her. She lifted her chin. “You think I’ll say no? Or are you hoping I will?”

  Dark brows lowered over his eyes. “You should.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” His jaw flexed and his gaze turned molten. “I’m not sure I have it in me to be gentle right now, okay?”

  Quinn trembled at the wash of heat that hit the pit of her stomach and crawled lower. He might be aggressive and forceful, but he’d never touched her with anything but deliberate care.

  “Ward—”

  “It’s why I didn’t stay that night, Quinn,” he forced out. “Why I left, despite how much I wanted to— Because I need.” His voice broke. “I need so fucking bad.” He held his arms wide and she could see the tremble in them. “This is me. Nothing held back, nothing hidden. And it’s all I have to give.”

  She walked to him without hesitation, wrapped her arms around his middle, laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes at the feel of his skin, the scent of his soap, the heat that radiated from him.

  “There’s nothing else. Got it?”

  The words rumbled in his chest, low and deep. She nodded and his arms finally closed around her, strong and hard. He held her for endless seconds, his heartbeat fast and wild against her ear.

  He pulled back, cupped her face with his large, rough hands and lowered his mouth to hers. His tongue pushed its way past her lips and he kissed her with a mind-destroying expertise that had her clinging to him, panting, wanting more, needing everything.

  His breath was sawing in and out when he drew back. He slammed the door closed with a savage push, grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him to his bedroom.

  Quinn bit her lip, tried to get her own breathing under control, which was impossible when he started pulling at her clothes.

  “Wait,” she managed, when he’d jerked off her t-shirt and bra and the cool air hit heated flesh.

  His hot gaze ate at her naked breasts. “No.” Already he was reaching for the waistband of her jeans.

  “Ward, wait, I want to—”

  She’d reached out to cup him through the fabric of his pants, but he grabbed her hand, held on, so that she couldn’t move her fingers.

  The look in his eyes was determined as much as it was…yearning.

  Quinn wanted to reassure him, she wanted to tell him it didn’t matter, that it’d be okay, but she just waited. Everything she came up with seemed lame. He was a smart guy. He could figure it out himself.

  He let out a shuddering breath, threw his head back and released his hold.

  She caressed his length, cupped along his hardness and he sucked in a breath when she skimmed the softness below.

  “Does it hurt?” she murmured.

  “Only if you stop.”

  She kneeled in front of him, grasped the front of his pants and took them down his legs. He didn’t have on any underwear.

  “Quinn…”

  He was long and thick and God, she wanted him inside her so bad. The warm scent of his maleness filled her senses. She licked her lips, leaned forward and ran her tongue along his length.

  “Fuck…”

  He trembled and a hard hand curled into her hair. She cupped him, felt the ridge of scarring and put her mouth there. She kissed him, gentle, soft touches, and his fingers clenched against the back of her head. She licked him, drew him carefully into her mouth, swirled her tongue against his salty skin.

  She licked up his length again, trailed her tongue over and around his tip and closed her mouth over him. He jerked against her, groaning when she suck
ed. She used her mouth to pump him, take him as deep as she could, but he pulled back, urged her up from the floor.

  His face was set in savage lines, his dark eyes glazed with need.

  “Aw, baby, you have no fucking idea how bad I want to come in your mouth.”

  She licked her lips. “Then—”

  “But I want inside you more.”

  Hard fingers jerked at the fastening of her jeans and yanked them down. Quinn kicked them and her panties off while he sat on the edge of the bed and took his pants the rest of the way off.

  His gaze never left hers as he got a condom from the bedside table. His eyelids flickered when he rolled it on. “God, a couple good tugs and I could make myself come.”

  He pulled her down on top of him and rolled her over until they lay facing each other. He lifted her thigh up over his hip and slid into her in a forceful surge, all the way in, until he was buried deep. He stilled, watching her.

  “Okay?” he managed.

  She shook her head, couldn’t speak. She still hadn’t got used to that first feel of him inside her, impaled, stretched, owned. Maybe she never would.

  “Good,” he ground out before he began to move—long, slow, deep thrusts that took her ability to think and settled her right into the “ability to feel only” realm.

  He nudged her shoulder back toward the bed, ran a rough hand down over her stomach to where they were joined.

  In this position her body was open to him but his gaze was fixed between her legs. His thumb circled her clit. She gasped, jerked against him.

  This time he pulled back out all the way and she whimpered at the loss of contact for the split second before he eased back in as far as he could go. He repeated the move, over and over, until she was whimpering, out of control with need, her hips flexing uncontrollably in a fruitless effort to keep him inside her.

  “I love to watch how you want me to fuck you,” he groaned.

  “Ward…” A moan of his name was all she could manage.

  “I said I needed, but I was wrong. I need you, Quinn. Only you.”

  His body rocked against hers, slow at first and then faster. No teasing, just hard, deep, thrusts that quickly spiraled out of control. She moved her body with his, frenzied flexes of her hips that had her to the edge of ecstasy in no time. Ward stiffened against her, his fingers digging into her hips and she exploded, closed her eyes against the intensity of sensation that raked through her, so strong, so powerful, it was almost pain. A pain she welcomed and reveled in.

  * * * * *

  She’d stayed the night. And it hadn’t been a dream. There was no way her imagination could be that good. The heat was a fire that swept over her body in an instant as her brain fought to process what her eyes were seeing. Ward—naked—his big body sprawled out over the king-sized bed. He was lying on his stomach; his good leg bent slightly, his head facing away from her. Hard, honed muscles under smooth, taut skin and a firm ass shown to perfection against the cool white of the sheet.

  He’d lost the pillow sometime during the night and kicked the sheet to the bottom. They hadn’t needed it. He’d generated enough heat for both of them.

  He was so beautiful that parts of her that had no business aching with need, with want, after last night, flared to instant life.

  His breathing was deep, even. He hadn’t been big on holding her through the night, but she’d been aware of him, the scent of them together in the big bed, his presence every time he’d moved, each time a hair-roughened leg had brushed against her own.

  Did it make her wicked that she wanted to get up, move to the foot of the bed, check out that shadow between his legs, teasing, tantalizing her? He looked so vital, so strong, so…male.

  And God, what an ass. She wanted to run her hands across those curves, cup her palm over them, lick them, bite them. She took a deep breath because what she really wanted? Was him on top of her, buried deep while she dug her nails into those spectacular ass cheeks, urging him on, urging him to—

  “Care to share what you’re thinking about? You’re all pink.”

  She would have sworn he hadn’t moved a muscle, yet his head was turned toward her, his gaze a dark glitter between hooded lids.

  “No.”

  He turned over and put his hands behind his head, showcasing ridged abs, spectacular biceps and a hard-on that needed no showcasing whatsoever.

  His mouth lifted at one corner. “You thinking about…you know?”

  She laughed, curled her hand into a soft fist to hit him, but he caught her hand in his before she could make contact.

  “Quinn, this…‘us thing’, it can’t go anywhere. Not long term. You know that, right?”

  She tried to push down the quick shaft of pain, but a sensation like glass shards cutting from the inside out was impossible to ignore.

  She did, of course she did, except… “So you’ve said. And why is that exactly?”

  He frowned. “Let’s just say a relationship is outside the scope of my skill set.”

  “Sounds like a cop-out to me.”

  His shoulder moved in a shrug. “Maybe. Doesn’t matter. It’s the way it is.”

  “You called me baby, you know,” she murmured. It might have been stupid, but each time he’d said it something had expanded and warmed inside her.

  “I did?”

  She smiled. “You did.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Maybe I call every woman I’ve fucked that.”

  Quinn felt her face stiffen and everything went brittle in a split second. The pain when it came was sharp and unforgiving.

  “Ah, God Quinn, I’m—”

  “No, it’s fine. No problem. At all. You’re right, tactless, but right. I’m one babe in a long line of babes. You didn’t need to mention that, but I appreciate the reminder.”

  He’d been upfront with her, he hadn’t promised anything, had gone out of his way to lay it all out, time and again. Then why did it feel as if her heart had just split in two?

  Quinn had told herself she could be adult enough to have a relationship with a guy and know nothing would come of it. Sex—hot sex—and some fun. What was wrong with that? Women signed up for just that all the time and why the heck not? Especially with someone like Ward. He was all man, knew his way around a woman’s body and prided himself on her pleasure. Hot and attentive was a heady combination. It was perfect, wasn’t it? She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Yeah, not so much, because she had a problem, a big, whopping problem. It was a little late to realize she just wasn’t that much of an adult after all.

  She got up and grabbed for the first piece of clothing she saw. Her hands shook as she jerked a t-shirt on over her head and Ward’s scent surrounded her. She would have flung it back off except his gaze was laser focused on her and she had no idea where her own clothes were.

  “Quinn—”

  “So, um…” She cleared her throat, hoped for a normal voice. “I should probably get going and um…thanks, okay?” she forced out.

  His jaw clenched, the pulse at his temple ticked. “For?”

  “For,” she swung her arm widely toward him, the bed, “you know.”

  He sat up and grabbed his track pants where he’d dropped them the night before. “You’re thanking me?” he grated, as he jerked them up his legs. “Are you kidding? God, why would—”

  “You? Walking God, remember? Me? Not so much.”

  He stood and yanked the pants the rest of the way up. “Jesus, Quinn, that’s such bullshit.”

  Yeah, it was. All of it was.

  He reached out to grab her arm when she would have brushed past him, but she flinched back from his touch.

  “Quinn, I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  She shrugged, tried like hell not to look at him because she couldn’t be responsible for her reaction if she did. She could already feel the sting at the back of her throat. “Nothing to apologize for.”

  He forced out a half laugh that had nothing to do with humor. “Trust me, I have pl
enty,” he ground out. “Starting this damn thing with you in the first place is one of them.”

  Right. Great. He couldn’t be much clearer than that. There was regret in every line of his body, every nuance of his voice. And it cut her as nothing ever had before.

  She’d thought when it was all over the memories at least would be sweet. God, she’d been so wrong.

  She stormed out, through the living room to the front door, fumbled with the doorknob, the latch, pulled, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Ward’s arm reached out from behind her, slammed his palm flat against the door right near her head and leaned into her, trapping her between the cool wood and his hard body.

  She tried to move, twist out from his weight, but he held her firm. “Let me—”

  “Jesus, Quinn, stop. The damn alarm’s still on.”

  “Oh.” Quinn swallowed against the lump of emotion clogging her throat. Of course, what other reason could he have for—

  “You don’t have any clothes on for Christ’s sake and—” He let out a shuddering breath. “Goddammit. It might make me a fucking coward but I can’t watch you walk away from me.”

  The words were low and guttural and she stilled when she felt the fine tremor he couldn’t hide when he held her so close.

  “Ward, please I—”

  “And for record?” he grated, his voice muffled against her hair, his breath hot against the side of her neck. “I’ve never called a woman “baby” before. Ever.”

  “Yeah,” she managed. “I know.”

  His body leaned farther into her and his heartbeat thundered against her back. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with you.”

  “I’d—I’d say you’ve had some pretty good ideas.”

  “I’m serious.”

  She tried to push back against him, to give her enough room to turn around and face him, but he didn’t budge an inch.

  “I don’t have any experience with anything like this.” The words sounded torn from him this time. “Zero. Zilch. Nada. It’s no excuse for hurting you, but I’m way out of my depth here.”

  She pushed back against his hold again but she had no hope of moving him until he was good and ready.