The Harder He Falls: 2 (So Inked) (7 page)

He tilted his head back and laughed. “That’s a good one, doll. Man-child. I’ll have to remember that.”

The pet name slid over her nerves as if it were sandpaper. “Do you have to call me that?”

“What?” He blinked as if he had no clue what she was talking about.

“Lay off the doll crap already.”

He shrugged. “You look like a doll.”

Her scalp itched and her hand balled into a fist. “You think I look like a whore?” she growled. Moments like these she felt as if she were a passenger in her own body. The urge to do something, or even the man across from her, had her muscles too tense and her nerves strung too tight.

Quin jerked his face away from his cup. “What? No. That’s not what I meant. You’re attractive and exotic-looking. You look more like a doll than a real person.”

Heat crawled up her neck and she was thankful the parking light was their only illumination. It was the most convoluted compliment anyone had ever paid her, and it turned her on even more. She folded her taco wrapper into a neat square.

“You realize the term china doll is what men called Asian prostitutes and war brides?”

“The fuck—no. No, that’s definitely not what I meant. Hey, guys probably hit on you all the time. I figured I had to be a little creative.”

She rolled her eyes. “At least you don’t talk to my boobs.”

His gaze dipped to her chest and her nipples perked up at his inspection. She squeezed her thighs together. This was ridiculous. She was not an animal in heat ready to throw herself at some random guy.

“Well, in their defense, most guys probably only come up to your chest, so it’s not entirely their fault.” One side of his mouth kicked up in a roguish smile.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, blame it on me because I’m tall.”

“It’s not your fault you’re tall. It’s their fault they’re short.”

Her phone buzzed against her hip. Conversation forgotten, Kellie dug it out of her pocket and unlocked the screen. The home-care provider always texted her when Grandma finally went to bed. She breathed a sigh of relief when nothing else was mentioned, which meant the day had passed without incident. She had all night before she would need to go home and face those troubles. For now she was her own woman.

“Everything okay?”

She glanced up from the phone. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

“So you moved here for family. Wife? Girlfriend?”

“None of the above.”

He was unattached and available. She went very still, the possibilities running through her head.

Quin cleared his throat. “My schedule right now doesn’t lend itself to dating.”

Even better.
She laid her palms on the rough wooden surface of the table. “Neither does mine.”

His stillness echoed hers. A predatory awareness came over him, but she wasn’t prey. “That’s a shame.”

She looked him over, even as he did the same. He wouldn’t be the first client she slept with, she wasn’t a saint. But neither did she know him.

“Excuse me.” The food truck cook had walked up on them without either noticing. “I need to load the table, sorry.” He smiled and wiped his hands on the dirty apron.

Kellie swiped the napkin across her face. Had she really inhaled the burrito? Judging by the sad remnants left, yes she had. “That’s fine. Thanks for the food.”

She rose, gathered up her trash and tossed it in a recycling bin, then leaned against the front of Quin’s truck, out of the way while Quin lent a hand to their cook and helped load the table. Too many thoughts spun around in her head, she needed a minute to get her head screwed on straight, but she wasted those watching Quin’s arms and the way his t-shirt stretched across his back. She pretended she hadn’t been staring when he headed for her, perching her elbows on the hood and leaning back. The truck’s grille pressed into her back but with her elbows perched on the edge, it thrust her breasts out. As if she needed to draw any more attention to them.

Quin’s gaze roved freely over her body and she could already anticipate his strong touch. He would be an energetic lover, but would he be gentle? Or rough? Did he always have to stay in control? Because sometimes she liked to put a man through his paces.

“I can’t tell what you’re thinking and I’m dying to know.” He stopped less than a foot away.

She smiled slowly, already having a pretty good idea what his answer to her question would be. “I was wondering if you would like to get a room.”

Bamboo—As an element, bamboo symbolizes strength of character. It’s thought that ancient tattoo artists incorporated bamboo into the background of pieces as a tribute to the tools of their trade, which were made out of bamboo.

Quin shoved his keys into his pockets and checked the room number Kellie had texted him while he’d stopped at a gas station for rubbers. He’d meant to pay for the damn hotel but she hadn’t waited for him. Now he needed to figure out how to repay her without giving her cash and making her feel like a hooker. He’d already screwed up by calling her doll. He sure as hell hadn’t seen that coming.

He checked the numbers on the cheap motel doors and headed to the left. This was not a responsible thing for him to do, but here he was anyway, pacing down the line until he came to a nondescript door with paint chipping and the number plate missing a screw.

There should have been music or something to denote that behind this door was someone remarkable. He’d known Kellie for a handful of hours but he could already tell he liked her, even if she could be a little prickly.

He rapped on the door twice with his knuckles and the metal jerked away from his hand. Kellie filled the space, her face inscrutable. He’d had the same problem reading Asian opponents when he’d fought. No one had a better poker face.

“Evening, ma’am,” he said in his best Texas twang, tipping an invisible hat. “I was wondering if I could interest you in some company.”

She snorted, grabbed a handful of his shirt and yanked him forward.

He allowed her to pull him into the room but he wasn’t going to let her call the shots. She wanted to fight and fuck, he’d give her what she needed.

He crowded her back, slamming the door shut behind them. In a quick move she didn’t see coming, he grabbed her arm and twisted, forcing her up against the wall face-first. The curve of her ass nestled against his groin perfectly. He wasn’t hurting her. He would never do that. But she was at his mercy.

“Let me go,” she growled.

He nuzzled the side of her neck. “No. You want to blow off some steam. I’m not going to make this easy for you.” He sucked on her earlobe and she growled again.

The next thing he knew, he was staring up at the ceiling, stars circling in his vision. Someone straddled his waist. He reacted from habit, grabbing the weight that had settled over him and twisting, forcing Kellie into submission. He sucked in a deep breath as Kellie struggled, her body undulating and rubbing against him. She didn’t thrash but she tested his hold. She could do that all day if she wanted. He taught guys this shit. Still, he was impressed she’d taken him to the floor.

He shook his head and took stock of their bodies. Kellie lay under him on her back, her arms mostly restrained. His greater weight kept her pinned and him in the dominant position.

The lamps and vanity were the only sources of light. Her hair was spread out on the carpet. Her eyes were two inky dark pools and her mouth open to suck in breath. While she might not have his strength, the idea of sparring with her was taking on a whole new erotic appeal. He’d never thought of the octagon where he’d fought for prize money as a place for sex, but he was now.

Her legs wrapped around his hips and her body relaxed, softening. She had enough freedom to feather her fingertips against his face and hair. She twined her fingers in it and tugged, inviting him closer.

He didn’t ease up on his hold. “You’re sexy when you kick my ass. Try to do it again.”

She strained to get closer. It was a fucking turn-on. His semi-hard cock twitched against her and he almost considered letting her go. He dropped his head just enough. Her lips caressed his, inviting him to come closer. So he did.

There was no sweet first kiss. No hesitant feeling each other. Kellie reeled him in and laid an open-mouthed kiss on him. He pressed closer, seeking to deepen the kiss, wanting to be inside her.

She twisted his arm and bucked her hips. Quin was unprepared for the sudden move, which let her roll out from under him.

Apparently Kellie had other plans.

He pushed up but she was faster. She captured his arm and shoved his shoulders back and off balance. He landed on his ass, a jarring jolt of pain shooting up from his tailbone. His shoulders hit the wall and she straddled his lap.

Kellie cupped the back of his head and pulled him forward for a punishing kiss, all quick nips and licks. He cupped her ass and ground their sexes together. She moaned into his mouth and moved with him, simulating the motions of sex.

Hefting her up his body, Quin got to his knees. As much as he liked rolling around on the ground, there was a bed and he intended to make use of it.

Before he could get to his feet, Kellie released him, grabbed his head and rolled backward. He knew the move, taught it to the guys, but he couldn’t pull out of it without hurting her so he put his weight into it. They went sprawling across the small amount of open floor space and she lost the dominant hold.

He grinned, thoroughly enjoying the new concept of grappling as foreplay. She was strong enough that he wasn’t even holding back much.

Kellie landed an elbow against his ribs, a light punch on his chest as they twisted and turned. She was flexible and quicker, but he was stronger and bigger.

Somehow he got an arm around her waist while she was trying to rise. He smacked her ass and hefted her up over his shoulder, no easy feat when she started thrashing and wiggling. A well-placed knee to his gut foiled his plan and he tossed her none too gently onto the bed while he doubled over, one hand on the flimsy wooden chair.

The only sound was their labored breathing. The room was humid and stuffy, smelling of stale air and cleaning products.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to—” She gripped his shoulders.

Chuckling, he pushed to his feet. His grin must have startled her because Kellie stared at him. His blood was pumping and his dick was hard. He didn’t want to hurt her but the idea of a strong woman turned him on. He would never use fighting force against her, but he wasn’t above putting her at his mercy.

In her moment of surprise, Quin grabbed Kellie around the waist and turned, lifting her at the same time. He pushed her up against the wall with more force than was necessary…

And put her through a cheap painting print.

Kellie sucked in a deep breath and wiggled her arms. Her ass and back sat in the middle of what had been a tacky paper print of some eighties art. The wooden frame cut into her shoulders and Quin’s hands cushioned her ass from the rest of the debris.

She looked from the art to Quin, who seemed as stunned as she was. Their gazes locked and for the span of a few heartbeats, they stared at each other, then burst out laughing. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and giggled.

One of his hands shifted to run up her back.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Shit, I can’t believe I did that.”

She lifted her face from his shoulder. His eyes were large and a little dazed. A goofy grin split his face. She chuckled and kissed him, feeling more playful and relaxed already.

He lifted her out of the mess they’d created of the print and turned toward the rumpled bed. Instead of his earlier force, he gently laid her down and leaned over her, his weight braced on one arm.

She groped for his other hand, which was cupping her face, and shoved it down against her breast. He obliged her request, but lingered for only a moment before yanking her shirt up and over her head.

This was what she wanted. Pushing up to a sitting position, she grabbed his shirt while he stripped her of her bra. She briefly lamented the lack of time to properly appreciate a man with his body. Damn right hard muscles and scars turned her on. She was a scrappy kind of girl, and a man who could go toe to toe with her was a turn-on.

Quin froze when she slid his shorts off his hips. The blue boxer briefs followed and he kicked out of both, his shoes already missing.

With Quin naked, she could see scars here and there, places where he’d had stitches or cuts. But his cock, that was one perfect part of his anatomy that was unscathed.

She grasped his stiffening flesh and pumped him from root to tip and back again. He arched his hips toward her and she capitalized on her position by leaning forward and planting a kiss to the crown of his cock.

His hands dug into her hair, dragging her up to his mouth. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, the dusting of hair there rough against the sensitive tips.

“Condoms?” she managed between kisses.

He lifted his head and glanced around. “I had them in a plastic bag.”

“Fuck. You sure?” She sat back on her heels. This was so not the time to lose something like condoms.

He pushed off the bed and stalked back to the door, peering under the table.

She kicked his clothes and wrapped her arms around herself. “Did you drop them outside?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, then to the door. He stood to the side and jerked it open. There on the stoop was a nondescript white plastic bag. He chuckled and swiped it. This time he also locked the door in his wake. He ripped into the box and pulled out a square package. She reached for the prize but he didn’t relinquish it to her.

“Up on the bed.”

She scowled and yanked the condom from his fingers. “You get up on the bed.”

He chuckled. It was her only warning before he grabbed her around the waist and tossed her to the middle of the mattress. She bounced a few times before his weight trapped her. He kissed her breasts, plumping them and switching between the mounds. It was okay, but her breasts were large and not as sensitive as some men wanted them to be.

Winding her fingers into his hair, she tugged to get his attention, and when he ignored her, she bucked her hips. But this time that trick didn’t work. He lifted his head and grinned at her.

“I want on top,” she said.

Quin planted a kiss directly between her breasts and rolled to his back. “Are you in some kind of hurry?”

She hadn’t expected him to do that. She slowly sat and straddled his waist. “Not really, but kind of. I do have a curfew.” Or really, the home-care worker expected her home by two thirty.

“Well shit, I can do quick.” His cavalier tone rang false, and though this was strictly sex, it was only as much fun as they both made it.

“I want to fuck. Now. Is that a problem?”

He feathered his hands up her back, smoothing her down against him. “Not at all.”

“Good.”

She scooted down his body and reclaimed the condom packet from where it had fallen amongst the sheets. Rolling it on took seconds. She lifted up on her knees and he grasped his cock, positioning it for her. She rocked over him, brushing the head through her folds until he thrust against her.

Planting her hands on his chest, she let her weight carry her down. Quin thrust, sliding deep, her wetness easing the way so all she felt was a delicious fullness that had her eyes rolling back into her head and her fingers curling into his skin.

“Doll, you got to fucking move.”

“Uh-hhuh.”

He gripped her waist, urging her to lift, and she did, whimpering at the feel of them moving together. She hadn’t been with a man for a while and she missed this. The feel of him deep inside her, the thrusting, the uninhibited sounds of being with another person.

“Come on, doll.”

“Can’t.” She panted, her muscles ached.

Quin rolled them, positioned her leg over his shoulder—thank god she hadn’t given up on yoga—and thrust. She saw stars instantly, grasping the bed sheets for something to hold on to.

“Again, fuck yes.”

He chuckled and did as she requested. “Like that?”

“Mm, harder.”

Kellie squealed at the contained power of him pumping into her, pushing her up the bed with each motion. To keep from slamming into the headboard, she wrapped her arm around him, her other still fisting the linens, and dug her heel into his ass. She moved her hips, urging him for more, and he gave it. The orgasm erupted deep within her and she came in a blaze of fireworks behind her eyelids, screaming her release. Quin continued thrusting, dragging out her pleasurable torment until his own climax cascaded through him and he slumped over her.

For several moments they lay entwined. The edge was gone and now all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

Quin rolled to the side of the bed and made use of the nearby trash can before flopping down next to her. He put a hand on her stomach, wordlessly asking if she wanted something else. And she did. Turning toward him, she propped her head up on her arm and gave him a quick kiss.

He slid his hand from her waist down to her ass. “Mm, nice. When do you have to go?”

She glanced up at the digital clock and sighed. It wasn’t anywhere near time to be home, but if she relieved the home-care worker she would be spared a few hours of paying her.

“Hey.” He patted her bottom to get her attention. “What’s wrong?”

“I really don’t want to be responsible.”