A Dangerously Sexy Affair (15 page)

For a moment she feared Aiden would leave her and go after Zach. But he crouched down next to her, close enough that she knew he was near yet not too close that she felt threatened.

“Are you really okay?”

“I thought he...” She gulped air in, the dam holding her emotions inside threatening to burst. “I thought...”

“He's not going to hurt you.” Despite the calm on his face, she sensed the rage toiling inside him.

“You let him go?”

“I didn't trust myself to follow him, Quinn. I couldn't be certain that I wouldn't...” He closed his eyes and hung his head. “I don't want to stoop to his level. But I'm not letting this go, believe me.”

She nodded and pressed her head between her knees. Nausea swelled in her stomach, the memories of her previous brush with violence clamoring over one another to gain center stage in her mind. Flashes of her fear, her panic.

You're safe now. Nothing happened...nothing happened.

“Will you let me take you home?” he asked. “Please.”

“You never say please.” She wanted to lift her head but it felt so heavy, and here she was safe and warm with denial wrapped around her like a cozy blanket.

“I'm saying it now. I want to make sure you're okay.”

“I said I was.”

“It's for me, not for you.”

She stayed in the darkness of her cocoon. “Okay.”

Pause. “Can I touch you?”

This made her look up. “What?”

He held out a hand, the frown on his face deepening. It was impossible to tell what was going on behind those baby blues of his. But she knew one thing for certain: he wasn't here for him. No matter what he said.

They were a team. She hadn't felt it until now, because she'd been so busy concentrating on what she wanted out of this assignment. But he'd been there for her when she needed him most, and wasn't that the definition of partnership?

What if there was more to life than chasing success?

Her hand slipped into his, and he hoisted her as gently as possible from the ground. The hardness of his chest against her cheeks was as reassuring as the ground beneath her feet. Solid. Stable.

He held her up, both physically and metaphorically. A strange sense of calm fell over her as they stood, quietly motionless.

What they had was uncertain; it was tentative and a little scary. But she felt the importance of it way down in her gut. Something was growing between them and she wasn't ready to let it go.

Time seemed to melt away as they retrieved her backpack from her desk and got into a cab together. She didn't even remember them making it over the bridge, but soon she was wrapped up in a blanket on her couch.

The kettle hissed, and Aiden's footsteps were a comforting sound for her ears to follow. Anything to keep her mind off the memories. Tears dried up quickly, she'd discovered. But memories had a way of latching on and not letting go. Like leeches.

“What are you going to do about Zach?” she asked Aiden as he came over to her with a cup of hot chocolate in each hand. Two pink marshmallows bobbed in the dark liquid like fluffy little buoys.

“I am going to talk to Walt tomorrow and say that Zach threatened one of our consultants.” He set the mugs down on the table in front of her and waited to see which one she picked. The one with the message “Keep Calm and Kill The Undead,” obviously. “That can't fly.”

“So that's it, no more assignment?”

“That depends on how he chooses to handle Zach.” He circled his hand around her green One Up mushroom mug. “If Walt's not willing to do anything about his nephew, then I'll have to talk to Rhys about how we move forward. Did Zach threaten to hurt you?”

She tested the temperature of her hot chocolate. “He implied it.”

“How did he get you into the restroom? Did he follow you in there?”

“He cornered me at my desk, said he knew who I was and if I didn't want to be exposed I'd better listen to what he had to say. He told me to meet him by the special access restroom upstairs.” She gnawed on her lip. “I shouldn't have gone but I didn't want to ruin our assignment. I thought I could calm him down, talk my way out of it.”

“You can't reason with people like that.”

“No.” Steam curled up from her mug in slowly winding tendrils.

“You should have come to me.”

“I know.”

Truthfully, she'd been more worried that Zach had found out about Alana's connection to Sarah. If Zach blew Quinn's cover, it wouldn't be the end of the world. But if he outed Alana's attempt at blackmail...that could do some serious damage to her friend.

And angry as she was, Quinn wouldn't let Alana be charged with a crime.

“What made you come after me?” she asked.

“A feeling. I was looking for you but I only found your backpack.” He shrugged as if it was nothing, but the tight set of his lips and pinched brows told another story. “I was worried.”

The marshmallows in her drink had dissolved and she fished the gooey remains out with her spoon. “Why?”

“Because...” he sighed. “I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I care about you, Quinn.”

* * *

T
HE
SECOND
THE
words were out of his mouth, Aiden wanted to take them back. Not because he didn't mean it, but because her deer-in-headlights look told him it was too soon. It took eons for Quinn to trust anyone, and spitting out his feelings like that was not the way to go.

Her lips formed a small O shape and then she snapped them shut again as she placed her drink on the coffee table. She had the goldfish imitation down pat.

“I'm sorry.” He shook his head and put his hot chocolate back on the table beside hers. “I shouldn't—”

But the words were drowned out when her lips landed on his. In fact, her whole body landed on his. Her thighs covered his own, and her hands were in his hair, tugging and pulling. She kissed him like the world was about to end, with the fervor and frenzy of a woman possessed.

Teeth and tongues clashed as he kissed her back. His arms held her tight, and fear surged through him like liquid fire. Now that he knew she was safe he imagined what might've happened if he hadn't found her...and it made his soul ache.

Clasping her head between his hands he ground his lips against hers, eyes squeezed shut. Tremors running through him.

“Jesus, Quinn... I was so damn worried.”

“It's okay.” Her small hands touched his face, tracing the length of his nose and the outline of his lips. “We're okay.”

His hands slipped around her waist and ran up and down her back. “I won't let anything happen to you, you know that, right?”

“I'm sorry, the princess is in another castle.” Her breath skated over his skin as she mimicked the famous “Super Mario” words. “I'm not a princess and I don't want to be your damsel in distress.”

“I don't think of you like that.” She drew his earlobe into her mouth, and his body started to hum with pleasure. The persistent flick of her tongue sent all the blood in his body southbound. “Trust me.”

“I do.” She drew back and looked him square in the eye.

“Really?”

“Not completely...but a hell of a lot more than I've ever trusted any other guy.”

“That's because I'm not just any other guy.” He'd meant it as a bit of a joke but to his utter surprise, she nodded.

“You're different. Good different.”

“Wow, a real live compliment from Miss Prickly herself,” he teased. “I'm shocked.”

“Don't get used to it. You saved my ass today so I'm being nice. It's a one-time-only deal. Expires at midnight.”

“That's not even twenty-four hours.” He glanced at his watch. “That's barely three.”

“We'd better make the most of it, then.” Her hips traced a slow circle over his, brushing over the hard length of his now very erect cock. God help him.

“You've had a shock, Quinn. The last thing I want is for you to wake up in the morning and regret this.” He wasn't sure his ego could take it if she pushed him away, not now that he'd admitted out loud that he cared about her. “I'd rather go home and have the mother of all cold showers than pressure you.”

“First, I'm not proposing sex because I feel pressured.” Her lashes lowered and a faint blush fanned out across her cheeks. “That might not seem like much to you but it's a big deal for me. I spent a long time being afraid of my libido and what kind of trouble it might get me into. But with you it's different.”

“How is it different?”

“Well, you let me be in charge, for one.” The blush deepened. “Which I enjoy. But even if you're taking charge you never make me feel unsafe. Or like my needs come second.”

“Your needs
never
come second.” He pulled her closer. The heat their bodies generated could have burned the building to the ground.

“And I care about you, too,” she whispered into his ear. “But don't tell anyone because you'll ruin my rep.”

“It's our little secret.”

“Good.” Rocking back, she climbed off his lap and held a hand out to him like he'd done earlier. “Come on. Time's ticking.”

“Wait.” He couldn't let things progress further until everything was out in the open. Quinn's trust meant too much to him.

“What is it?” She withdrew her hand and toyed with the ends of her hair.

“I don't want there to be any lies between us.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I think there's a chance Alana is involved in the leak.”

The color drained from her face. “Go on.”

“I found a connection between her and the intern...and Christopher. It's not much, but I have to listen to my gut on this one, Quinn.” He stood and walked toward her, listing the details of what he'd found so that she had the whole picture. “Did you have any idea she might be involved?”

“I found out today,” she said, her eyes trained on a spot in the distance. “In the meeting we had with Rhys, you mentioned Christopher had emailed himself the game designs for “Galactic Warrior.” And I remembered Alana mentioning she'd received exclusive details about that game. I called her afterward and she confirmed Christopher had leaked the information to her. But I don't think she has anything to do with the engine. She doesn't want to make money selling corporate secrets...everything she does is about improving the gaming industry, not exploiting it.”

“Were you going to tell me any of this?”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “I wanted to find proof first that Alana wasn't connected to the engine leak. I wasn't sure you'd believe me, and I was trying to protect my friend... I'm sorry.” She reached out and slipped her hand into his, the gentle touch soothing him where her words had cut. “You don't believe she's responsible, do you?””

15

C
OLD
FEAR
CLUTCHED
at Quinn's chest while he stood there, silent and still. She could only hope that Aiden believed her, that he trusted her enough to follow her lead. Intertwining her fingers with his, she squeezed his hand.

“Please, give me a little more time. I'll prove it's not her.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “You don't keep
anything
from me, not ever again.”

“I promise.” She willed him to look at her. “I'll tell you every single thing I do. I'll give you every teeny-tiny detail about my day and I won't spare any anything at all.”

“There's no need to be a smart-ass, you know.” He squeezed her hand back and tugged her into his chest.

“But it's what I do best.” She reached up and grabbed his face, forcing his eyes to hers again. “Will you stay tonight?”

“Try and stop me.”

He kissed her and all the tension flowed out of her body. The relief that coursed through her was new. And terrifying.

But she knew one thing for certain: she never wanted to keep anything from Aiden ever again.

They shed their clothes in a flurry, leaving a trail from the couch to the bed. Groping along the wall, she searched for the light switch and plunged them into darkness a second later.

“Don't you want to see my ugly mug?” he asked, hands guiding her back to the bed.

“I just want to feel you.” Her calves hit the mattress and she folded, dropping down and pulling him with her.

The heavy weight of him on top of her was reassuring, like a hot shower and blankets and her favorite slippers. But the moment he pressed his thigh between her legs, all she could see was white light behind her eyelids. Maybe this was what it felt like to connect with someone? To love someone?

The word stopped her dead in her tracks and she froze beneath him. Love? She didn't love Aiden. She couldn't....could she? He wasn't like the other guys who'd used her and tried to hurt her. She'd already admitted that.

And
God
did he have a way with his hands. But love?

“You just about leaped off the bed then.” His breath was hot at her cheek, his lips searing a line along her jaw.

“I'm fine.”

He pressed up on his hands, the bed moving as he shifted his weight. Moonlight danced along his skin, the slatted blinds making a stripy pattern across the bed. Outside, rain fell, and it pattered softly against the window.

She blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the dark.

“You're in bed with me, Quinn. I don't want you to feel fine. I want you to feel fan-fucking-tastic.”

There wasn't a shred of doubt in her mind that when it came to the physical, he'd make her body soar, unbound and uninhibited. But her heart...no. She wasn't ready for that.

“Then do it,” she whispered.

His hand crept up the side of her body one rib at a time until he cupped her breast in his palm. The gentle brush of his thumb over her beaded nipple was enough to blank her mind to the confusion warring inside. Feel, not think. That was her motto for tonight.

“More,” she demanded.

“Yes, ma'am.”

He scraped his teeth along her breast, catching on her nipple before he drew it into his mouth. Yes, this is what she needed. Arching her back, she pressed into him, wrapping her legs around his waist and rubbing against him.

His tongue flicked over the swollen bud again and again, each movement shooting heat down between her legs. Her sex clenched, and a fluttering started low in her belly. The sound of rain-slicked tires rushing over asphalt mingled with his throaty growl at her breast.

She dragged her nails up his back and was rewarded with a groan. “You like that?”

“What?” His chuckle sounded in the darkness. “Having a gorgeous, sexy woman underneath me who's thrashing around like a tiger? Hell, yeah, I like it.”

Feeling bold in the safety of the dark, she threaded her hands into his and pushed him down. “I'll thrash a little harder if you keep going south.”

“And do what?” Each word was rough and filled with the promise of intense pleasure.

“You know what to do.”

“Tell me.” His tongue swiped over her hip bone and he nudged her legs apart with his shoulders. “You want this?”

The warm air of his breath hit the center of her sex and she gasped. “More than that.”

A finger trailed over the curve of her hip then skated up and down the lips of her sex. “This?”

“More, Aiden.” Her back arched off the bed and she wriggled in frustration.

“I'm not a mind reader.” He parted her with his fingers and stopped, awaiting her instruction.

“Please.”

The tip of his finger circled the entrance to her sex, pushing inside just enough to make her breath catch, but leaving her wanting so much more.

“Say it.”

“I want you to make me come with your mouth.” The words caused her brain to spark like metal on metal, lighting up the parts of her she'd buried long ago. The confident girl who loved sex, who knew what she wanted in bed and wasn't afraid to ask for it. She'd been that woman once and she could be her again. “Go down on me.”

“With pleasure.”

The sound of her cries filled the air as he lapped at her, circling her clit with his tongue and sucking at her flesh until the tremors caused her thighs to quake.

“You're so wet,” he moaned as he pressed a finger inside her, curling it to rub against the sensitive spot inside. “So tight and hot and...”

The rest of his words faded into nothing as the first wave of her orgasm hit, rippling through her body like shimmering fire. Her hands clutched at the duvet, scrunching it in her fists as she pushed her hips against his face, not caring about anything but taking every last drop of pleasure.

She didn't have time to come down very far, because the second she'd stopped shuddering the sound of foil tearing cut through the air. A moment later he was buried deep inside her. There was nothing sweet and tender about their lovemaking. It was raw. Needy. Desperate.

He held her close as he slammed into her while he lost himself. He moaned incoherent pleasure sounds low in her ear, her name falling from his lips over and over. Like a chant, a prayer to some higher power.

With her legs wrapped around his waist, she dug her heels into his ass and urged him on. Sweat beaded on her skin, the scent of sex and man a toxic potion for her senses. Then they were falling together, shuddering and clinging to one another until it ended.

A powerful calm washed over her as he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them both until he was on his back. He called her name one last time as he rode his pleasure out.

With their heaving chests pressed together, she could feel how close their hearts beat. This was what connection was about, the closeness. The deep, soul-level satisfaction.

Maybe she
was
ready for more.

* * *

A
IDEN
WOKE
AS
the first beam of light pushed through the slats on Quinn's blinds. Her back was pressed against his chest, and her ass was cradled in his crotch. The sound of her breathing filled the air, deep and calm. She'd told him that she never slept through the night, but here, in his arms, she was dead to the world.

He brushed the hair away from her face and watched as her eyelids flickered. She was dreaming. And from the gentle tilt of her mouth it looked as if she was enjoying it.

Moving slowly, he extracted himself from her bed and pulled the sheet up over her. A contented sigh escaped her lips, and she shifted but didn't wake. He raked a hand through his hair and stood in the middle of her apartment, his eyes sweeping over the tiny kitchen and single couch.

He had a one-on-one performance meeting with Rhys today and he had to think about what he was going to say. He'd promised to keep Alana out of it for the time being. But he'd known doing that would make it look as though he hadn't made any progress with the assignment.

How do you get yourself into these shitty situations?

Tiptoeing around, he located his clothes and dressed with the stealth of a ninja. Quinn mumbled in her sleep and turned onto her back. A light snore broke the air as she slipped into a deeper sleep. Jesus, even her snoring was adorable.

“You're messed up, Odell,” he muttered to himself. “You're supposed to be getting runs on the board, not covering up your progress.”

Grabbing a piece of paper from the notepad on her bedside table, he scrounged around for a pen and scrawled her a note telling her they'd meet up later at Third Planet Studios.

He'd have to come up with something for Rhys, anything that could allow him to stall until he and Quinn could look at all the facts of the case and determine whether or not Alana was leaking information for profit or if someone else was to blame.

He closed her front door behind him with a soft click. Outside the streetlights were still on, but the first haze of morning light pushed through the clouds. He walked along the street, pulling his jacket tighter around him to ward off the early-morning chill.

The brisk fall of his footsteps broke the silence, pounding in time with the burgeoning headache at the base of his skull. Must be all those confusing thoughts he'd crammed in there like too many clothes in an overstuffed suitcase. They pressed against him, competing with one another for space. Distracting him.

“This is why relationships can't be your first priority,” he mumbled. A relationship? Is that what he had with Quinn?

Last night he'd come across important information in the assignment, but instead of doing his job, he'd spent the night making love to Quinn. Making love...he
never
referred to sex like that. It was a term for relationships and sappy Hallmark movies, for people who believed in soul mates and happily-ever-afters.

But what he had with Quinn was more than just a physical connection—despite sex with her being hot enough to blow his socks off. Last night when he'd found her cornered by Zach...

Shit.

Before he could contemplate that can of worms his phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Son?” His father's voice came down the line without any of its usual hard-edged formality.

And since when did the old man call him
son
?

“Dad? What's wrong?” He glanced at his watch. “Has something happened to Mom?”

“She's fine.” He paused for a long moment. “Everyone's fine. I just...can't a father call his son to talk?”

Aiden slowed as the entrance to the subway appeared up ahead. “What's going on?”

“I want to apologize.” His father sighed and suddenly sounded as though a hundred years old instead of his usually energetic sixty-two.

“For...?”

“For pushing you into a new job after...the accident.” The whirr of his father's coffee machine sounded in the background. “I wasn't able to deal with the fact that you could have died. So I tried to make everything normal. I figured if you were in a new job, working, that you were okay and we could forget what happened.”

Aidan blinked. “You did?”

“We almost lost you.” His father's voice cracked. “I pushed you into that position because you were safe behind a desk. I wanted you to be somewhere that didn't put you in the line of fire.”

“You never told me you were afraid for me.”

“Of course I was. You're
my
son, my flesh and blood. I was terrified.” He sucked in a breath. “And then when you told me you were going to work for Logan, I thought there was a chance it might happen again.”

“That why you didn't want me to leave the FBI.” He shook his head, unsure where this was all coming from. Unsure how he could have been so wrong about his father's intentions.

“I should have said something, but you know I'm horrible at expressing myself.” His voice had started to return to normal, showing the good old-fashioned Odell strength. “Your mother says I'm less communicative than a cactus.”

His lips twitched as he imagined his mother lecturing his father. “Why did you bring it up now?”

“You remember Daniel Mollino?”

He mentally flipped through faces and names until something stuck. Big mustache. Their next-door neighbor from years ago. “Yeah, he had three sons. His wife was the lady with the red hair who used to have lunch with Mom.”

“He only has two sons now.”

“Oh.”

“We're going to Benjamin's funeral today.” The glug-glug sound of pouring liquid rang through the phone. His father didn't drink a lot of coffee unless he was stressed. “Cancer. He was twenty-two.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Dad, I'm sorry. That's awful.”

“It is. But it made me think.” Pause. “It could have been me. It still could be me and... I need to be better. I need to talk. More.”

“We all do.” As angry as he'd been at his father for pushing him, he hadn't exactly been adamant about fixing things, either.

“Well, that's all I had to say.” His father was now completely in control again. “I should go.”

“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate the call.”

“Goodbye...son.”

Aiden disconnected the call and stood in the early-morning light, rooted to the ground. He'd never expected his father to come to him. In all the years they'd been a family, he hadn't made the first move for anyone. And when his father had given him the cold shoulder after he'd left the FBI, Aiden had assumed it was because his father didn't believe he could make his own decisions. In reality, he'd simply been a scared parent.

Would his father be proud of him now?

Proud of you going into work to lie to your boss? To delay closing a case and possibly risk more information coming out simply because someone batted their eyelashes at you?