Quinn's Woman Read online

  He shook his head. “You’re a hell of a fantasy, D.J.”

  He shoved down his jeans and briefs as he spoke. His arousal sprang free.

  He was large, thick and more than ready. She did her best not to think about what it would feel like when he was inside. Instead she finished loosening her braid, then tossed her head. He made a noise low in his throat and dove onto the bed.

  He crashed next to her, brought his arms around her and pulled her down. Their mouths met in a hot, frenzied kiss that made her strain against him. He caressed her breasts, then slipped lower to the swollen wetness between her thighs.

  The second he touched her there, she knew she was in trouble. The wanting was too great. Need made her whimper and squirm and surge toward him.

  Just for a second, she told herself, trying to stay in control. She would let him do this just for a second. It felt so good. Too good to make him stop.

  He moved slowly, as if discovering. When he brushed across her most sensitive spot, she caught her breath. He did it again and again. She could feel herself tensing, readying. So close. If he didn’t stop, she wouldn’t have a choice.

  Deliberately she put her hand on his wrist and pushed him away. At the same time, she clamped her lips over his tongue and sucked until he shuddered.

  Pulling back slightly she said, “Tell me you have protection with you because I don’t.”

  “What?” His dark eyes were unfocused. He blinked, then grinned. “Sure thing, Daisy Jane.”

  She swatted his arm. “Stop calling me that.”

  “Why? It’s your name.”

  He rose and walked into the bathroom. Seconds later he appeared with a box of condoms. He tossed them onto the nightstand, then returned to the bed. She knew what he planned even before he slipped his hand between her legs.

  “Wait,” she told him. “I want you ready.”

  Quinn started to protest, but before he could get up a head of steam, she bent down and took him in her mouth. He groaned low in his throat. As she teased him with her tongue, she reached for the box of condoms.

  When he was breathing heavily and sagging against the bed, she raised her head and opened the box. He watched her slip on the protection.

  Before he could shift toward her, she knelt over him and slowly settled on his arousal. He grabbed her hips.

  “D.J., wait,” he gasped. “I want you to—”

  She sank lower. “I will,” she told him. “Just let’s get you going.”

  “I’m already there.”

  She smiled and slowly raised and lowered herself over his arousal.

  He felt good, she thought, holding on to her control. Too good. It would be easy to give in to the feelings surging through her. But she couldn’t. So she concentrated on letting him slip in and out of her, squeezing him with each stroke. The fingers on her hips tightened as he began to set the pace.

  He moved one hand across her leg so he could reach her wetness. Even as she rode him, he rubbed his thumb against her swollen center.

  Exquisite pleasure shot through her. She wanted to collapse against him, surrendering to the release. She was so close. Just a few more strokes. Just a few more...

  No! She forced her mind away from what he was doing between her legs. Instead of letting go, she breathed his name. He opened his eyes and looked at her. While he watched, she gathered her hair and piled it on top of her head. The movement of her arms raised her breasts. She began to move faster and faster, pulling him inside of her. Her breasts bounced, her body rode him, she tightened her muscles, milking him until she felt him stiffen.

  He swore again and replaced his thumb with two fingers. His pace matched hers. She was sliding over the edge. Control, she thought frantically. Control.

  She dropped her hands to the mattress and pulsed her hips. The shift in her position forced his hand away and pulled him in deeper. At the apex of the thrust, she clamped around him and rocked.

  He lost it.

  Contentment filled her as she felt him shudder in release. His eyes sank closed, his body stiffened, then stilled. Between her thighs she felt the contractions slow, slow and finally stop.

  She sighed and smiled. “Impressive,” she breathed.

  Quinn opened his eyes. For a man who’d just had what felt like an amazing climax, he didn’t look happy. Instead of smiling back, he grabbed her and shifted so she tumbled onto her back. Then he loomed over her.

  “What the hell just happened?” he growled.

  CHAPTER 10

  Quinn stared into D.J.’s face, but couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. Her smile faded.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  She seemed genuinely confused.

  He mentally grabbed hold of his temper. Okay, maybe he’d misread the situation. Maybe she hadn’t done it on purpose.

  “You had your way with me,” he said, deliberately lightening his tone. “What’s up with that?”

  Her smile returned. “I wanted it to be good for you.”

  “What about you?”

  “It was fine.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He didn’t believe her for a second. She’d held back. If he didn’t know better, he would say she’d been damn close but had tried to distract him. Tried? She’d succeeded. But why?

  To test his theory, he slipped a hand between her legs. She was wet, hot and more than swollen. He found the tight knot of nerves and rubbed it with his finger. Instantly her breath quickened and her pupils dilated.

  But instead of letting him continue, she pushed his hand away and sat up. “Like I said—impressive.”

  She started to slide off the bed, but he grabbed her arm and held her in place. “What’s going on?” he demanded a second time.

  “Nothing.” She narrowed her gaze. “Would you please let go of me?”

  “When you tell me why this whole exercise was about me.”

  “Isn’t that what you want?”

  “No. I want it to be about both of us.”

  “It’s sex, Quinn. Nothing more.”

  “I would have enjoyed sex. This was getting off.”

  She flushed and turned away. He released her arm and watched her stand up. She was more beautiful than he could have imagined. Strong, curved, completely feminine. From her high breasts to the triangle of dark curls protecting her femininity, she was erotic, sensual and pure fantasy.

  She’d shocked him when she’d shown up at his door. He’d almost told her to leave, but he’d been tired of being alone. Then she’d kissed him and he’d realized why she’d come to see him. What she was offering. Somehow he’d assumed it would be for both of them.

  He pulled off the condom and tossed it in the trash, then watched her gather her clothes. She pulled on briefs and her bra. As she stepped into her jeans, he tried to figure out what had gone wrong.

  Her lack of reaction hadn’t been about his technique. He might not be God’s gift to women, but he understood basic anatomy. He knew what went where and did his best to always make his partner see stars. But D.J. hadn’t let him. Every time he’d been close, she’d pulled back.

  “You’re not leaving until this is settled,” he told her.

  She eyed him coolly. “You’re going to keep me prisoner?”

  “If necessary.”

  “Big talk from a naked guy.” She shrugged into her shirt and fastened the buttons.

  “Is it a control thing?” he asked.

  She zipped up her jeans. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You could have climaxed. You were close. I could feel it. So what’s the deal?”

  She walked to the mirror over the dresser and finger combed her hair. “There’s no deal.”

  Like he bought that. “Control?” he asked, speaking more to himself than her. “But what’s the point? So you don’t enjoy sex. How is that a win?”

  She spun to face him. “You got yours, Quinn. Isn’t that enough?”

  “No.” He stood and put his hand
s on his hips. “It’s not how I do things.”

  “So if she’s not screaming your name, you’re not a man?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, get over it. What happened today, or didn’t happen, wasn’t about you. It was about me. I don’t—” she turned back to the mirror “—I’m not built that way. My body doesn’t react.”

  He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. “Are you telling me you’ve never had a climax? That you’re incapable?”

  “Yes.” She turned back to him. “It happens.”

  “Bull. You’re more in tune with your body than anyone I’ve ever met. I felt you reacting, D.J. You were close. You deliberately pulled back.”

  Her dark eyes flashed with temper. “Maybe you’re overestimating your skill in bed.”

  “I don’t claim to be the world’s greatest lover. I’m just a guy who wants to please the one he’s with. What’s so wrong with that.”

  She sighed. “Nothing. I appreciate the thought, but it’s not necessary.”

  “It is to me.”

  “This isn’t about you.”

  He crossed to her and touched her chin. When she looked at him, he smiled. “I’ve got all night. Let’s get naked again and we’ll see if I can prove you wrong.”

  She twisted away from him. “Thanks, but I’m not interested.”

  “Then why did you show up in the first place?”

  “Good question. I’m having some second thoughts.”

  He frowned. None of this made sense. She’d arrived uninvited and had taken the first step. She’d kissed him. When he’d responded, she’d been more than willing. She’d wanted to have sex, but only if it was about him.

  What was that?

  She headed for the door. He got there first. “Answer the question,” he said quietly. “Tell me why you won’t let me make you climax and I’ll let it go.”

  She sucked in a breath, then released it slowly. “I’m not interested in—” She shook her head. “You’re so annoying.”

  “I know. Answer the question.”

  She looked at him. “I just don’t. Okay? It’s not that I can’t, it’s that I won’t. Doing that...” She shrugged. “I won’t ever let myself be that vulnerable.”

  If she’d screamed he wouldn’t have believed her. But it was her soft words, the defensive set of her shoulders and the painful twist of her mouth that convinced him.

  He stared at her. “Why do you hate men so much?”

  “I don’t. It’s not about hating anyone. That implies way more energy than I’m putting into this.”

  She turned away and crossed to the bed. Once there, she sank onto the mattress.

  “It’s about not trusting them,” she told him. “Sex does something to women. It makes them weak. They bond. And it doesn’t seem to matter if the guy’s a jerk or not. Or if he beats her. They connect. I don’t want to be that weak, so I don’t risk it.”

  Her words stunned him. “Not ever?”

  “What’s the point? You get weak, you get dead.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You’re extrapolating from an inconsequential statistical base. How many women get dead because they have sex?”

  She sprang to her feet. “One woman is too many. You’re a guy. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Then tell me. Help me understand.”

  She shook her head and crossed to the door. This time he knew he had to let her go. But she surprised him by laying her hand against the wood frame rather than the handle.

  “My father beat my mother,” she said, her back to him. “He was a mean drunk and even worse when he was sober. My earliest memory is of her screaming for mercy.”

  Quinn’s stomach clenched. He’d wanted to know what had so terrified D.J. Now that he did, he wanted to rescind the request. Knowing didn’t make it better.

  “Sometimes he would go days, even a couple of weeks between attacks. I’d lie awake every night, wondering if it would start. When it would start. I was always afraid. What if he killed her? What if he turned on me, too.”

  She dropped her hand to her side, then shifted so she was facing him. “He waited until my seventh birthday. He got drunk, I spilled cake on the floor and he came after me. Sometimes he used a belt or his hand. He’d throw beer bottles at me. Then he’d pass out. When it was finally safe, my mother and I would huddle together on the sofa and make plans to escape. For a long time I believed that it was really going to happen.”

  Her dark eyes stared past him. Was she getting lost in the memories? Would she let him help her?

  “She changed her mind,” D.J. told him. “Every time. The next morning there were a thousand reasons why we couldn’t go. The truth was, she loved him. Even when he broke her jaw, cut off her hair and called her a whore.”

  He wanted to go to her and hold her but knew she wouldn’t want to be touched. Not now. Not when it wasn’t safe.

  She closed her eyes. “When I was eleven he came after me with a baseball bat. I can’t even remember why. Just how bad it hurt. My mother took me to the emergency room. My arm was broken. The nurse there threatened to call the police and have me taken away. My mother begged her not to. She said my father would kill me if the police got involved. The nurse said he was going to kill me anyway.”

  She opened her eyes and stared at him. “My mother took me home and told me it would be all right. The next day she made me go to school. I didn’t want to. I was ashamed and in a lot of pain. But she insisted. The school nurse came and got me later that morning. After I’d left home that morning, my mother shot my father, then turned the gun on herself. She left a note. In it she said she couldn’t let him continue to hurt me, but she couldn’t live knowing she’d killed the only man she ever loved.”

  He swallowed hard. D.J. stood by the door, rubbing her left arm. He didn’t doubt those bones had been the ones shattered.

  He’d already guessed she’d been abused in some way, but he’d never thought it was that bad. No wonder she didn’t trust men or love or sex. No wonder she held back.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  Her mouth twisted. “More than you wanted to know, huh?”

  He stood. “There’s nothing you can say that will shock me. I’m sorry for making you relive it.”

  She shrugged. “Old news. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  Of course it mattered. Her past dictated every aspect of her life. It was the reason she had to always be the best. He ached for her.

  “D.J.”

  She held up a hand. “If you get all sloppy on me, I’m going to beat the crap out of you.”

  “Not a chance of that.”

  He crossed the room and reached for her. She shrank back, then stiffened and stood her ground. He’d seen men in battle, facing down their fear, but not one of them had shown the same courage as this woman. Every time he moved, she knew he could snap her in two. Yet instead of running for cover, she wanted him to teach her. When she could have walked away, she’d come over to help him heal. She had seen the nature of the darkness inside of him that morning. She’d watched him pulverize the punching bag, and she’d still shown up and offered herself.

  “You’re a hell of a woman,” he said as he put his arms around her and pulled her close.

  She was stiff as plywood. “I don’t need a hug.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  She sighed heavily, as if this was such an imposition, then stood there while he ran his hands up and down her back. Gradually she began to relax. Her arms moved from her sides to his waist. Her fingers lightly rested against his back.

  He breathed in the scent of her body, of her hair. She was tough, but still soft. He understood why she hadn’t given in. He also finally knew why offering him sex in exchange for lessons had been so much easier than accepting a dinner invitation. Sex was just about the body. She could stay in control—although she’d come close to losing it with him. Dinner was more personal.

&
nbsp; He also knew what had gone wrong between them today. She’d offered sex, and he’d accepted. Neither of them had been making love.

  Quinn’s chest tightened. Was that what he wanted? To make love with D.J.? Did he dare?

  She pulled away and this time he let her go. She crossed to the door and let herself out without saying anything.

  When her footsteps had faded, he moved to the window and stared out. He saw her walk across the parking lot and slide into her car. She moved with a grace that left him breathless.

  He still wanted her, and he knew what it would take to get her. But could he risk it? He was the wrong man to try to save her. She might be on the edge, but he was already in the water and drowning.

  She started her engine and drove away. Even after she was gone, he stayed at the window. Was it wishful thinking on his part to hope they could save each other? Were they both too far gone or did they have a prayer of finding their way back?

  * * *

  The next morning D.J. waited nervously for Quinn to arrive. Part of her hoped he wouldn’t bother. That between what had happened—or not happened—in bed and their fight, he’d decided to forget it. His not showing up would make things easy for her. No more worries, no more questions, no more second-guessing herself.

  She hadn’t slept at all the previous night. Her feelings had fluctuated between anger, humiliation and frustration. She couldn’t believe she’d simply blurted out the truth about her past. She never told anyone. Rebecca didn’t even know. Oh, there had been hints, but she’d never actually sat down and spilled the whole sorry tale.

  D.J. paced the length of her office, then returned to her desk and flopped down on the chair. Why had she told him? She wanted to say it was because he kept pushing and pushing, but she wasn’t sure. Part of her wondered if she’d wanted him to know.

  “Not possible,” she said aloud. Him knowing only complicated an already difficult situation. Unless she’d been trying to scare him off.

  She rose again and nodded. That was it. She’d wanted to send Quinn away.

  Or had she wanted him to understand?