Nail Down (Men out of Uniform Book 2) Page 7

  She sighed. There was nothing wrong with enjoying hot, mind-blowing sex while she could, was there? With Mr. Body of a God? Consenting adults slept together for a whole lot less than that every day. She could too, right? In fact, she probably needed to maximize her time to carry her through her next dry spell because sure as hell it was probably going to be her longest one yet. She had a feeling that after Ward? Yeah, she might just be ruined for all future guys.

  Quinn followed him through into a spacious kitchen. The fittings and appliances were top of the line, the countertops spotless. She noticed the bowls on the floor.

  “Where’s Hype?”

  “He’s with Gus.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. “Why? I thought he was yours.”

  Ward’s jaw flexed and his pulse ticked at his temple. “Gus takes him a couple times a week. He likes to run. I can’t really give him the exercise he needs.”

  “Oh.” Quinn’s stomach tightened at the thinness of his voice and the fact that she’d put her foot in her mouth once again. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’d you end up with him? You don’t strike me as the dog type.”

  “I’m not. I was the one who found him behind the gym. He was nothing but a pile of hair and bones. Looked like roadkill.” His mouth tightened, his voice thickened. “In fact, that’s what I thought he was. I’d even gotten a shovel to throw him in the Dumpster. Shocked the hell out of me that he was actually breathing, somehow. His injuries…” Ward shook his head. “Someone had done a real number on him. To survive that? He’s a fighter. He deserved a chance. I only made sure he had one.”

  The emotion that edged his voice slammed into her and she felt the sting at the back of her throat. Yeah, maybe more than kindred spirits. It sounded as if he’d done a lot more than give him a chance. Quinn had seen firsthand the devotion Hype had to Ward. And Ward hadn’t had to keep him.

  “See? You’re not as much of a hard-ass as you make out, despite what you project to the world.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got just as much of a shell as I do, Quinn.”

  “I’m an open book.”

  “No.”

  She frowned. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You might blend in better but you don’t let people see the real you.”

  “That is the real me,” she snorted.

  “Yeah, but it’s not the full picture. You hurt, you get angry, sad, but I’m betting you don’t let anyone else see that. Am I right?”

  “I…” Quinn took a deep breath. So maybe her coping mechanism was different to everyone else’s. “Emotional weakness in my family is not only frowned upon, it’s…not tolerated. Outward displays of emotion, especially in public, are strictly forbidden. And in private, it’s…unheard of.”

  “Wow.” Ward had stilled at her words. “They sound like a barrel of laughs.”

  “My brother and sister both perfected the art of projecting the ultimate stoic and serious professional façade at an early age. Me?” She choked out a laugh. “I was never able to do that.”

  His gaze centered on her. “Maybe you’ve learned better than you think.”

  Maybe. “Well, I have this…thing tomorrow night so we’ll see.”

  “Thing?”

  “My mother is throwing my cousin a pre-engagement party reception…thing and I’m expected to show up.”

  Actually, it was more like mandated. “A pre-engagement party reception?”

  “Yeah.” Quinn rolled her eyes. A party leading up to the engagement party. Only her family. “Don’t ask.”

  Just the thought of it caused a ball of dread in the pit of her stomach. She was expected to show up, expected to put on the happy family act, expected to not knock anything over or cause a scene.

  “And my cousin is trying to fix me up with someone.” Which had never worked out for anyone before. Quinn didn’t know why Caroline bothered. Oh, right. So Quinn didn’t look like the loser relative who couldn’t get her own date because maybe it would rub off on others by association.

  Quinn. With someone else. The thought tore through him along with images he could have done without. He didn’t need to be a genius to figure out he didn’t want anyone else near her.

  Jealousy. He’d always shrugged it off as a useless waste of time and energy. He’d never been able to understand the concept. If a woman wanted to be with someone else, nothing he said or thought was going to make any difference. And if she wanted someone else? Well, he didn’t aim to be second at anything. Never had. Good riddance, right?

  But with Quinn? Damn. This was a whole new playing field and all bets were off. He didn’t even know the rules here. Hell, he didn’t even really know the fucking game.

  He hadn’t made any promises—it wasn’t his style—but he knew deep down that while she was fucking him, she wouldn’t see anyone else.

  “I’ll take you.”

  Shit. What?

  The words were out before he was even aware he was going to offer. At her dumbfounded look he wondered if he’d lost his mind. Her expression said she was wondering the same thing.

  “Ah…it’s formal. Very.”

  So? He had his fair share of monkey suits. “How formal?”

  “Tuxedo formal.”

  He had one of those as well. “Okay.”

  She frowned. “Are you sure? I mean, we wouldn’t have to be there long, but it’s primarily family friends and associates of my parents.”

  One hundred percent not his thing, but he just shrugged. “Why not?”

  Why not? Because he’d never done the family thing before that’s why. Ever. When she just kept looking at him, he added, “Unless you think it would be some kind of issue?”

  “Issue?”

  “Quinn.” He turned to her then, motioned to the scars on his scalp that he hadn’t bothered to cover. There’s been no point. She’d seen everything. “You do realize most people are intimidated by me.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah.”

  She tilted her head to the side, looked him up and down. “I can see that.”

  “So why not you?”

  “I know it’s just for show.”

  He shook his head, leaned in close and gave his best bad-ass snarl. “It’s not for show. I can be dangerous. I am dangerous. Trust me on this.”

  That should have ended it right there. Instead she…smiled?

  “Yes, but you wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  “Oh, yeah. I would. I have. Quinn—”

  “But they were the bad guys. You wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Ever. Am I right?”

  Christ. Was she for real?

  “You only see what you want to see, Quinn,” he forced out. “And that’s damned dangerous.”

  “No. I see what most people can’t because they don’t look deep enough.”

  How? How the hell did she know these things? How could she know anything about him at all and that in particular? Most people made assumptions based on his size and looks and the demeanor he’d perfected to deal with the scum of the earth and survive. Not her. Why the fuck not her?

  He gave her a long look before he motioned toward the fridge. “I’m going to grill a couple steaks out on the terrace. Think you can make a salad?”

  “Maybe.” She smiled. “Probably.”

  “We can eat outside. Come out when it’s ready?”

  “Sure.”

  Ward nodded and went outside, wondering not for the first time what the fuck it was that he was actually doing. He had a woman over and he was cooking dinner. Jeez, seemed like a hell of an effort and an invasion of his privacy just to get laid. As soon as the thought hit, he knocked it back down. It wasn’t like that. Not with Quinn. And man, the getting laid part had rocked his world last time. Besides, he liked talking to her and if he was honest? He didn’t mind her in his space. He’d never invited anyone else here. Not even Gus, even though he invited himself often enough.

  He had the stea
ks all done and at the table in record time and there was still no sign of Quinn. He pushed back the hint of unease and walked back into the kitchen.

  “Quinn, what’s taking—”

  He cut himself off when he saw what she had in her hand.

  Shit.

  “I’m sorry.” She looked up. “I was looking for some salad servers. They’re yours?”

  He’d stuffed them in the junk drawer when he first moved in and he’d forgotten all about them, hoped to never see them again.

  “Yeah.”

  “They look…impressive. You must be…”

  “Proud?” That’s what everyone thought. That he should be so proud of them. Well, those who knew about them anyway. “No,” he ground out.

  Quinn frowned. “I bet they don’t give these out to just anybody.”

  “I got medals. Some guys got a casket. Where’s the pride in that?”

  She looked up then. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to her bold gaze. “Were you personally responsible for their deaths?”

  His eyes narrowed before he forced out a rough, “No.”

  “Then why the guilt?”

  Guilt? Yeah, maybe that was it. He could have denied it, but with Quinn, why bother? She’d see right through him anyway and then call him on it. Saved time if he just went with it.

  “I’m alive. They’re not.”

  “You wished you’d died too?”

  “No. Maybe. Some.”

  Christ, where had that come from? He swallowed against the tightness in his chest, the churning in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever even admitted that to himself. Not really.

  “All the more reason to live every day the best you can as a way to remember and honor those who didn’t get the chance.”

  He took a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t need metal and fabric in a fancy box to help me remember them.”

  “Yes, but others do. People who didn’t experience what you did, didn’t get to see what you saw, could never be able to do what you did, and if they could, wouldn’t anyway. Most people don’t have any concept, have no context. I know you must have done something incredible to receive these.” She brushed her finger gently, slowly across the surface of the shiny medal. “I didn’t know them, but when I see these, I can remember them too.”

  There were tears in her eyes. If he hadn’t seen them he would have heard them in her voice. For someone she’d never met.

  Jesus.

  Wade felt the sting in his sinuses, ground his teeth together against the thickness in his throat. Fucking allergies, that’s all it was, although he knew. It was just Quinn being Quinn. And he was a total fucking goner for whatever it was she did to him.

  Quinn ran her thumb across the metal surfaces again, the touch gentle, reverent. “You know what these show?” she whispered. “They show the kind of soldier you were. Brave, honorable, heroic.”

  “Quinn—”

  “But do you know what hiding them shows?”

  His mouth tightened. “What?”

  “They show the kind of man you are, the kind you’re not. You’re a good guy, Ward. A really, really good guy.”

  No lecture about how he should have been honored they were bestowed on him. No censure for keeping them hidden in the back of a junk drawer. No encouragement to take them out, show them off. He took a deep, shuddering breath. As if he needed any such fucking reminder. They all lived inside of him every single day. No. This was Quinn, so there was none of that.

  She put them back exactly the way she found them and closed the drawer with a soft push.

  What the fuck was he going to do with her? And what was he going to do without her because sure as shit she deserved someone way better than him. Someone who could share in her delight with life and all it had to offer. Not some beaten up, damaged moody jerk who resented the hell out of the life he’d been dealt most of the time.

  He’d warned her. He’d thrown a few pillows on the floor of his bedroom and insisted he’d figured out a way that wouldn’t hurt his leg. After that her recollection was a bit murky.

  After they’d eaten he hadn’t wasted any time getting her naked and flat on her back on his big bed, her legs spread wide. She just hadn’t been prepared for the intensity he could wring from her or the unquestionable skill he wielded because… Holy. Hell.

  Quinn levered herself up on one elbow. She wanted to see, needed to. How she managed it she’ll never know because the mere sight of his dark head there was almost enough to send her over.

  Her entire body was liquid heat and shuddering sensation. She shivered at the rasp of his whiskers on her thighs, between her legs, against her most sensitive flesh. A whimper was torn out of her when he sucked against her clit in a favored move and one he was seriously expert at. She moaned when he flicked at her with his hot, relentless tongue.

  She clasped his head with one hand because God, the pressure was teasing and not enough, not nearly enough. She urged him against her, harder, and finally gave in to the driving need to rock her hips against him in time to the laps of his sinister tongue.

  “That’s it,” he groaned. “Show me what you want. How hard, how deep. How fast.”

  She fought to catch her breath, to keep her eyes open against the sting of pure pleasure that threatened to overtake her sanity.

  “Stop.”

  The word sounded as if it had been dragged out of her and maybe it had been because all she wanted was to scream at him to go, go now, hard and deep, fast and…

  “Why?” he rasped. He raised his head slightly, gave her tender flesh a slow, deep lick with a lazy slide of his tongue and slid a finger slowly, boldly inside her. Oh God, by anyone’s definition that was not stopping.

  She sucked in a breath and jerked against him as he slid his finger out and then back in again. “Because I’m about to…you know, and I want you to be inside me when you make me…”

  “Come?” he breathed against her.

  She nodded, couldn’t do much else because he did the thing with his finger again. And again. He blew against her, his breath teasing and hot and he watched. He looked as if he couldn’t tear his gaze from between her legs.

  “Ward, are you listening?’

  “No.”

  “Please.”

  He lifted his head then, his eyes dark and glazed with need. “I want to make you come, Quinn. Over and over and over.”

  Everything inside her tightened. “Um…okay, I’m good with that. Seriously, but…”

  She arched her body back against the bed when he slid a second finger into her. It was some of what she needed—the thickness, the hardness—but not enough.

  She grabbed on to his wrist, tried to still his hand. “Ward. You. Now. I—”

  She gasped when he eased out of her and leveraged himself up off the floor with some impressive upper body strength. He was already naked and…how had she not gotten a good look at that last time? He was long and thick and full and… God, just the thought of him inside her, filling her, stretching her… She licked her dry lips, cleared her thick throat, tried to suck in enough air.

  “Quinn? What’s wrong?”

  “I—it’s just I didn’t, you know, get to appreciate the scenery much last time. Could you just stand there, exactly like that, for a few minutes?”

  His mouth lifted at one corner as he lay down on the bed, already rolling a condom on and teasing her with the sight of him touching himself.

  “How about you appreciate my cock from the inside?”

  Hell, yes, that’d work. He eased her over and on top of him and entered her in a single hard thrust that was exactly what she needed. Until she needed more.

  “Ride me, baby. Hard,” he bit out.

  Quinn put her palms flat on either side of his head and rocked against him, controlling the slide of him in and out of her. She wanted fast and furious but she controlled her movements, focused on an even, steady rhythm, luxuriated in his thickness stretching her until she could barel
y stand it, balanced on the edge of intense pleasure, but she didn’t want it to end. Not yet.

  His hands clenched on her hips, stilled her movements and she whimpered. “I want you under me,” he grated through clenched teeth.

  That was all the warning she got. Quinn’s gasp when he rolled her over quickly turned to a groan when she ended up lodged beneath him and his hips slammed against her. He ground his teeth, grimaced, his eyes screwed shut.

  “Ward, your leg—”

  “Screw it.”

  “But—”

  “Forget it.”

  He opened his eyes and she shivered at the look in them. Hot, dark, dirty.

  He lowered his weight over her, his forearms on either side of her head. His movements slow, tentative. She gasped as he moved a little deeper inside her and stiffened at the sensation, clutched on to his straining shoulders.

  He stilled. “Okay?” he rasped.

  Okay? God… Quinn shook her head, couldn’t do anything else.

  His muscles tightened under her grip. “Quinn?” His gaze bored into hers and he frowned. She felt his intended movement even before she felt the flex of his muscles. She dug her fingers into hard flesh.

  “Stay. I— It’s… Not okay,” she rasped, cleared her throat. “Way more than okay.”

  “Yeah.” Muscles relaxed and he let out a shuddering breath. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  He flexed his hips against her and grimaced, cursed under his breath, his teeth pulled back in a snarl that had to have been pain.

  “Ward…”

  His dark eyes were fixed on hers. “However bad it’s going to be later? So fucking worth it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  She ran her hands over his hard, muscled shoulders, clutched on, and wrapped her legs high around his hips.

  “Then let’s make it count,” she rasped.

  “Fuck, yeah,” he forced out.

  He thrust hard and they both gasped, groaned, shook. His big body surged in and out of hers, slow at first, the thrusts deep and long and every time he was buried all the way in she felt it in every nerve ending in her body.