Beneath the Surface (24 page)

She didn’t know how he felt about her and he wasn’t sure what his next move here should be. This was all new, uncharted territory for him, and the circumstances that had brought them together only complicated it further. What if Quinn was confusing gratitude with love? What if, when all this was over and the threat element was gone, she decided she didn’t really love him after all and went her separate way? Unlike her, he’d never had his heart broken before, and he wasn’t keen on the idea of gaining the experience. Perhaps slowing this down and seeing where it went was the wiser move. Although, he wasn’t sure he could slow it down enough to stay out of her bed. Even if that was exactly what he should be doing.

“I found it,” she announced, carrying the box into the kitchen and setting it on the table. She also had a brown bottle and a few towels in her hand.

Quinn took the seat beside him and scooted it so her knees fit between his spread ones. She was all business, with that adorable frown of concentration on her face. Some women might be queasy at the sight of blood, and his was a good trickle running down his side, but not Quinn. She wasn’t squeamish at all, and damn if that didn’t earn her some more respect points.

The bullet wound could have been a lot worse than it was. He hadn’t even realized he’d been grazed. Adrenaline was a wonderful anesthetic. He could have just taken a shower and let the water beat the laceration clean. It wasn’t bad. He wasn’t sure why he was indulging her now, other than he kinda liked the idea of her fussing over him, and he really liked the idea of her putting her hands on him. Just the anticipation of it dulled the burn in his side. The residual high of a firefight certainly didn’t hurt either. He had a lot of testosterone pumping through his veins right now, and he wanted to work that shit out on Quinn.

“Lift your arm,” she told him, all serious and no-nonsense. She was so damn cute it wasn’t even funny.

Biting back a grin, he did as he was told, angling his side toward her.

Her scowl deepened. “Asher, this cut looks deep. Maybe you should go to the emergency room and get this stitched up.”

“I’m not going to the ER. Gunshots are mandatorily reported, and I don’t want the police involved. Besides, this isn’t the first time I’ve been shot, and it’s by far not the worst. Just bandage it up. It’ll heal.”

He could tell by the look of disapproval on her face that she didn’t agree, but also knew arguing with him about it wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “This is going to burn,” she warned before popping the cap off the brown bottle. Holding a towel beneath the laceration, she doused the wound in peroxide.

Ho-ly shit!
She wasn’t kidding. Asher clenched his teeth to keep the profanity roaring through his mind from spewing out of his mouth, and sucked in a slow deep breath.

Quinn shot him a nervous glance. “Are you all right? I’ve got to get it cleaned out. I don’t want this to get infected.”

“It’s fine,” he gritted. “Do what you have to do.”

And she did, dousing his side with another round of liquid fire. This time he was ready for it and the flash of pain wasn’t as bad.

“Do you think he’s still out there?” she asked quietly as she worked. Pink foam rolled down his side and onto the towel she held against his ribs.

“No. He’s gone. I watched him drive away. He was limping pretty badly when he ran off. By the size of his blood trail, there’s no way he’ll be back tonight.”

“You shot him?”

Asher nodded.

“You think he’s coming back?” She carefully dried the wound and used the towel to clean the blood off his side. After opening a package of Steri-Strips, she pulled the skin together and began applying the tape.

Asher watched her work, wishing he could tell her that the threat was over. But he knew better. Unless the shot was fatal, the bastard would be back—and he was pissed. “Not right away . . .You’re safe for now.” But that was the only guarantee he could give her.

CHAPTER

29

Y
ou probably shouldn’t walk around barefoot in case I missed any glass.”

The bedroom glowed with the filtered light coming from the bathroom. Quinn watched from her spot on the bed, appreciating the flex and roll of Asher’s muscles as he swept the shards of glass into a pile.

The log walls behind her were chipped and gouged from the bullets. Wooden slivers littered the floor next to her. “I can do this, you know. I feel terrible about what happened to your house.”

He stopped sweeping and turned to look at her. Quinn’s stomach did that little flip and her pulse quickened. He hadn’t put a shirt on yet, and the only thing covering his torso was the 4 x 4 gauze taped to his right side. His jeans sat so low on his waist she could see the V of muscles, drawing her gaze lower. Damn, he was impressive . . . and he’d saved her life—again. There just wasn’t anything sexier than that.

Asher muttered a curse under his breath. “You gotta stop looking at me like that, Quinn.”

“Why?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. Yeah, she really needed to get herself one of those filters.

His grip on the broom handle tightened, making the muscles in his arm flex. “I already told you why.”

She climbed off the bed and stood in front of him, her nerve endings tingling with anticipation. Despite her claim that what happened between them was a mistake, it was one she wanted to make with him again, and again, and again. Never in her life had anyone come close to making her feel the way Asher did. She had no idea what her body was capable of, but she had no doubt he would show her.

He hadn’t brought up her German confession and she was glad for it, though she knew it was only a matter of time. He might have tabled the topic for now, but she knew Asher well enough to know he wouldn’t let it go. Especially considering his reaction to his discovery—damn Google Translate.

She was so shaken by what had happened tonight that right now, all she wanted was the safety and security of being in Asher’s arms again. And she was desperate enough that she’d do or say just about anything to get it. “Are you really not going to touch me again until I tell you it wasn’t a mistake?”

He studied her for several seconds before exhaling a ripe curse and scrubbing his hand over his shadowed jaw. “Quinn, I’m not so sure that it wasn’t.”

His confession rocked her. This was not what she was expecting him to say. So he was having second thoughts about her? About them? Her confidence wavered and she took a step back, needing to put a little space between them, but he caught her wrist before she could get any farther.

“I don’t like what this is doing to me, Quinn—what
you’re
doing to me. And yet I don’t think I can stop it. One night with you and I’m in fucking knots. I knew this was going to happen. That’s why I told you I had to stay away. I need to be focusing on protecting you, keeping you safe, and all I can think about is getting inside you again. I can’t stop wondering if the rest of you tastes as sweet as your kiss . . .”

His confession emboldened her, the raw honesty in his voice enflaming her until Quinn’s need drowned out the last remnant of her inhibition. She slipped her arms up around his neck and whispered, “There’s only one way to find out . . .”

He grumbled something that sounded like
fuck me
but she couldn’t be sure. His hands settled on her hips, preventing her from arching up to her tiptoes so she could reach his mouth for a kiss.

“Quinn, we need to talk about what happened earlier.”

And there it was. She should have known her reprieve would be short-lived.

“Did you mean what you said? Are you falling in love with me?”

She wanted to deny it. But she owed him the truth, and more than that, she owed it to herself to be true to her heart—even if he didn’t feel the same way in return, even if she walked away from this with her heart shattered . . .

“Yes.” It was a softly spoken confession, but one all the same.

Something flashed in his eyes, surprise maybe, but it was gone before she could be sure. Damn this darkness that shadowed his handsome face.

“You don’t really know me, Quinn.”

“You saved my life—twice. Your secret is out. You’re not a dick after all.”

He laughed, not a ha-ha-that-was-funny laugh, but more of a deep, throaty rumble. One she felt in all the places she wanted him touching her right now.

“It’s okay.” She gave his chest a patronizing pat. “Your secret is safe with me.” Riding to her tiptoes, she whispered against his lips, “I won’t tell anyone.”

His hands on her hips forced her heels back to the floor and she exhaled a frustrated harrumph.

“Quinn, I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“I think you’re confusing gratitude with love.”

“I’m not a child, Asher. Don’t patronize me. And I know you better than you think. You keep your life neat and orderly right down to the mitered corners of your bed because you have a compulsive need for control. But it’s only an illusion. What’s inside here”—she pointed to her temple—“is beyond your control. And that torments you. You show the world a carefree, arrogant playboy, but that isn’t who you are at all. You’re a man with a strong moral compass who values his family above all else. You’re selfless to a fault, and you’d give your life for someone else’s without hesitation. You live by a code of loyalty and honor, but you also have walls and you try very hard to keep others out by pushing them away and by being a jackass.”

She gave him a self-satisfied smile, confident in her assessment, but it was his turn to talk now, and she was not prepared for what he had to say.

“I’ve killed eighty-six people. Some of them were guilty of nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I suffer from insomnia. I risk my life so easily because it means nothing to me. Don’t try to make me into some hero, Quinn, because I’m not one.”

Her smile fell as she listened to his confession. It shocked her speechless and was, no doubt, intended to do just that, yet every word struck a chord inside her and somehow made her fall more deeply in love with him.

“Recklessness is not heroic.” He tapped his temple with his first and second fingers. “I’m fucked up. That’s why I got out of the Special Forces. I couldn’t take it anymore. Right before I left, I watched a kid get blown to shit by a guy in my unit who thought he was wearing a bomb. When Slater realized his mistake, I was wearing his brains until I could get back to base and shower that shit off. I drink—a lot—because it’s the only thing that quiets the noise in my head. I’m probably an alcoholic and just don’t fucking know it.”

“Are you done? Because it isn’t working.”

“What isn’t working?”

“Your list of all the reasons I shouldn’t care about you. You’re not scaring me away. If you don’t want me then just say so, but your past is what has made you who you are, and I refuse to condemn you for it. It sounds like you’re doing a bang-up job of that all by yourself, though. You’re a good man, Asher, even if you refuse to see it. I wouldn’t be alive right now if it wasn’t for you.

“Asher, war is ugly, but sometimes it’s a necessary evil. And because of it, people die. It’s just the hard, painful truth. But because of it, people also live—because someone like you fought for their freedom. You count the lives lost, but you will never know the number of lives that were saved because of you, because of your sacrifice.”

She slid her arms around his neck and stared into eyes that held a prism of pain, suffering, and regret. “I don’t expect you to be perfect. God knows, I’m far from it myself.”

Asher slipped his fingers into her hair, his palms cradling her face as he searched her own eyes. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but hoped whatever it was he would find it. “Quinn, you’re so fucking perfect it makes my heart ache to look at you.”

Her heart swelled inside her chest a little more. Before she could tell him how wrong he was, he dipped his head. Her protest was replaced with a soft moan as his lips pressed against hers, his tongue taking the kiss deeper. He lifted her T-shirt and broke contact with her mouth only long enough to pull it over her head before he was back to kissing her with all the finesse of a freight train. In one fluid motion, he lifted her, carrying her those few steps to his bed. As he laid her out on the mattress, his gaze devoured her, sending a shiver of anticipation coursing through her veins.

His fingers curled into the lace of her panties and he slid them down her legs. Asher dropped to his knees at the side of the bed and her heart began to hammer with excitement and a little bit of fear when she realized what he intended to do. No one had ever touched her like this, kissed her . . . there. Spencer had been too “civilized,” telling her that kind of intimacy was for the uncultured, the uncouth.

Asher slipped his hands beneath her legs and gripped her hips, dragging her closer. Her knees clamped together as another wave of anxiety washed over her.

“What’s the matter, Quinn?”

He pressed a kiss to her knee, his strong, calloused hands slowly traveling up the sides of her thighs. Raw need warred with inexperience. “I’ve never done this before . . .” She felt her cheeks heat with her confession. What she wasn’t expecting was the look of surprise that quickly morphed into total ravenous delight.

“Never?”

She shook her head.

“You have no idea how much it pleases me to know that whoever had this body before me had no idea what the fuck they were doing with it.”

It did?

“It looks like this is going to be a day of firsts for you after all. I guarantee this is going to be a hell of a lot better than my cooking.”

A nervous laugh escaped her and his deep, throaty chuckle joined in.

“Let me see you, sweetheart.”

He coaxed her knees apart. Hesitantly, she let them fall to the sides, never feeling more vulnerable and turned on at the same time. Asher’s response to the sight of her was what excited Quinn the most. Something dark and powerful, possessive and primal flared in his eyes. Maybe Spencer was right and this did bring out the animal in men, but civilization was overrated.

The way Asher looked at her had Quinn’s heart pounding inside her chest . . . like she belonged to him and him alone—and he had no intention of ever letting her go.

“Fuck, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He gently brushed the back of his knuckles over her slick folds. She flinched at the contact, unaccustomed to being touched. A jolt of pleasure shot into her core, making her muscles involuntarily contract. “Absolutely perfect . . .” he whispered.

He took each of her ankles and placed her heels on the edge of the bed as he coaxed her thighs farther apart. Being open to him like this was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. It almost felt more intimate than sex, because the way he was watching her stripped her completely bare of all pretenses, all walls, all remnants of self-preservation. And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the moment he put his mouth on her, he’d capture not only her heart, but her very soul. And perhaps that was what scared her most of all. There would be no going back after this. From this moment on, she would irrevocably belong to this man.

But all her thoughts, all hesitancy, fled from her mind with the first touch of Asher’s tongue against her flesh. The sensation was so powerful, so startling, her hips jerked up off the mattress. He chuckled at her startled gasp, the throaty rumble vibrating against the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. His hands slid beneath her bottom and he dragged her back to him. Against her heated, sensitive flesh he whispered, “Ich fürchte, ich bin in der Liebe mit Ihnen fallen auch.”

Wait, what? But then his mouth was on her again and Quinn’s thoughts detonated. Her mind was so lust drunk it took her a moment to translate what he’d said into English and she couldn’t string two words together to form a coherent response to his confession.

I’m afraid I’m falling in love with you too . . .