Under the Boardwalk Read online

  She looked at him, wide-eyed and shockingly trusting. It was the trust that wreaked havoc with his heart, and that same trust he tucked away to think about later.

  “You’re playing so unfairly,” she said while her body quivered with expectation and anticipation.

  “I don’t think you’re really all that upset.” He chuckled, then rested his hands on her thighs and dipped his head, his intent clear.

  She let out an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose not,” she said, too languidly for his liking, so he dipped his head and tasted her for the first time.

  At the first touch of his silken tongue, Ariana’s back arched off the bed and tremors shot through her body. “Oooh, definitely not,” she said, a low ragged moan rumbling from her throat. She swallowed hard, barely able to think at all.

  His warm breath combined with his slick tongue and just the right pressure of his teeth on her most sensitive spot had her trembling, on the verge of climax. She closed her eyes and he reached for one hand, wrapping his fingers through hers. That small act was so intimate, a surge of emotion enveloped her, bringing her higher still.

  His tongue dipped inside her and another wave of tremors began. As if sensing the moment, he pressed against her with the palm of his hand, coaxing her closer still. Without warning, the feelings converged. The slide of his tongue, the delicious rolling of his palm over her mound and the delicate rasping of his teeth, all exploded into one long spiraling climax that seemed to go on and on. Just as he went on and on, wringing every last drop of sensation out of her.

  The tremors continued even after Quinn released her hand and began to ease himself upward. She realized he’d managed to pull off his boxers, because his lean, hard, naked body touched every inch of hers as he moved. All muscle and defined male, he came over her. He bracketed her head with his hands and aligned their bodies so they came into intimate contact, his straining erection nestled in the vee of her legs.

  That easily she came alive again. The desire she thought he’d sated returned, letting her know the previous orgasm, though incredible, had been but a prelude. Her body pulsed with need as an aching emptiness begged to be filled.

  Needing to touch him, she pulled her arms free of the restricting bra straps and wrapped her arms around his waist so she cupped his behind in both hands.

  Quinn let out a low groan. “What you do to me…” He shook his head. “It defies description.”

  His groin pulsed low and hard against her feminine mound and she couldn’t help but smile. “That’s good to know, because I’m pretty swept away myself.”

  He rolled to one side, opening the night table drawer and pulling out a sealed box of condoms. Ariana couldn’t believe how ridiculously happy she was to see that he hadn’t used them before. With no discussion, he opened them and sheathed himself, then he returned to pick up where they’d left off.

  But Ariana wasn’t content to let him have his way this time. She hooked her leg around his and maneuvered him onto his back.

  “Looking to be in charge?” he asked wryly.

  “You don’t seem like you’re complaining, either.” She lowered herself over him, slowly, deliberately taking him inside. As she felt him full, hard, and completely in her body, the mix of emotions was almost too much for her to handle and she closed her eyes.

  “Ari. Look at me.”

  She did as he asked and Quinn used that precise moment to thrust upward, impaling himself deep inside her. Their gazes connected as tightly as their bodies, forcing her to acknowledge her own feelings, even if she didn’t voice them aloud.

  No matter his intent, looking into his darkened gaze made her come face-to-face with the wealth of emotion he pulled from her. And then he shifted beneath her and she couldn’t think at all. Her body began another rapid climb toward fulfillment, this time more satisfying with Quinn joining her for the ride.

  Her hands grasped his and she gyrated her hips in a circular motion until her most sensitive spot ground tight against him. Clenching her internal muscles, she gripped him in warm, wet heat and again her body reached higher until together they found a matching rhythm all their own.

  His hips pumped upward, hers downward, faster and faster, the intensity spiraling beyond reason. Unable to maintain any semblance of control, she stretched herself over him and ground her hips into his, her climax beginning and peaking almost at the exact same time.

  Waves and waves of rapture washed over her and she rode the crest, rode him, prolonging the exquisite sensations and feelings until she was wrung dry.

  • • •

  Ariana woke up to the most pleasurable feeling of being wrapped in complete warmth and safety. She couldn’t ever remember such utter bliss and she inhaled deep. Musky scents assailed her, scents of passion and Quinn. Unwilling to let herself think and possibly spoil the moment, she eased back into him. He was spooned around her, holding her tight.

  “You’re up?” he asked in a low, morning-roughened voice.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He nuzzled her neck in reply. “You smell delicious in the morning.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said and laughed, but she’d thought the same thing about him. “You don’t snore.” The words popped out without thought.

  “Did you expect me to?”

  “No. It was just an observation.” She wasn’t about to explain her mother’s views on men, love, and snoring, since they couldn’t possibly mean anything to herself and Quinn. Not at all, she reassured herself. But her heart was pounding hard in her chest while her panicked brain reminded her this was temporary and her life was hours away in a small college town in Vermont.

  A knock sounded from the other room, louder with each successive rapping noise. “Did you hear that?” she asked.

  “Unfortunately, yeah.” Quinn got out of bed, but not before rolling her onto her back and treating her to a morning-after kiss that rocked her world and aroused her all over again. “Wait here.”

  As if she had anywhere else to go, at least for the moment. “I’ll just call my parents back while you get the door,” she said.

  He has risen naked, then pulled on a pair of jeans he’d tossed over a chair, zipped them but ignored the button. The result was disheveled and sexy, and would convey a message to whoever was at the door that they’d interrupted and were unwelcome.

  She bit the inside of her cheek as he walked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Left alone in his bed, she had to admit she liked being the bad girl who’d spent the night in Quinn’s bed, then had to sneak her way home in the morning wearing last night’s wrinkled clothes. Maybe she was making up for lost time, because Lord knew she’d never been a bad girl before. That had been Zoe’s job.

  Zoe. She’d trusted Quinn’s word that Zoe was safe and her parents’ phone call had nothing to do with her missing twin. Trusted him in favor of a night of blissful lovemaking in his bed. Blissful sex, she corrected herself, but her rapid pulse and full heart didn’t back up her claim.

  She scooted to the bottom of the bed and reached to the floor for her bag. She dialed home but nobody answered, meaning they were either ignoring call-waiting or Spank had pulled the answering machine cords out of the wall. Then again, it could be the workmen. Either way, if her mother had needed her that badly, all she’d have to do was call the hotel and ask for Quinn’s room. Certain everything at home was fine, she rose and found a large T-shirt of Quinn’s that she pulled over her head, and then started for the bathroom.

  She passed the door to the outer suite on the way, and since Quinn hadn’t shut the door completely, she clearly heard the sound of raised voices traveling toward her. And though she told herself she shouldn’t eavesdrop, she couldn’t help but listen anyway. Especially once she realized the man in the other room was Damon and Quinn was obviously not happy with the man’s interruption.

  • • •

  Quinn didn’t appreciate being woken in the morning anymore than he liked Damon’s obvious attempt to find ou
t who he’d brought up to his room. Quinn leaned against the wall beside the bedroom door and contemptuously eyed the man who’d barged in.

  Where Damon was concerned, the stronger Quinn came on, the more the boss respected him and the more responsibility he gave. “I work for you but my private life is my own,” Quinn said.

  “Have a cup of coffee and chill.” Damon held a hand up in front of him. “I just heard rumblings downstairs that you were hot and heavy with some broad in the lobby, and I came upstairs to give you my congratulations. You’ve been like a goddamn monk since coming to work here, and I figured it’s about time you got some action.”

  Quinn rolled his shoulders to relieve the building tension. “Let’s say this has been long overdue.” In ways this man couldn’t begin to understand. Being with Ari had been destined from the moment he’d saved her ass on the beach, only now he was in deeper than ever before.

  “It’s her, isn’t it?” Damon stepped closer, lowering his voice.

  Quinn wanted Damon gone, and playing along was the only way to accomplish his goal. He nodded. “You said to keep an eye on her, didn’t you?”

  “And you’re ever the loyal employee.” Damon belted out a laugh and slapped Quinn on his forearm. “Just make sure she doesn’t find out you offed her twin or you’ll be back to being a monk in no time.”

  Still laughing, Damon strode toward the door, turning before he walked out. “My trip’s still on, so make sure you’re not distracted over the weekend,” he said with a nod toward the bedroom.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be one hundred percent business,” Quinn said. If for no other reason than he was dying to wrap up this case and return to his real life.

  No sooner had Damon shut the door and it locked behind him, than Ari stepped into the suite, wearing his shirt and an extremely wary expression on her face. She’d obviously heard what Damon said, leaving Quinn to wonder where the hell he stood with her now.

  Ariana tried to swallow but since hearing Damon so callously discussing how Quinn had supposedly “offed” her twin, she felt like she had paste in her mouth and a huge lump in the back of her throat.

  “I don’t suppose you’d care to explain?” she asked Quinn. But since he’d been less than forthcoming until now, she really didn’t expect any answers.

  But she refused to stick around on the basis of pure trust. Not anymore. She’d given him her faith and her body. It was time he offered something in return. But since being on the receiving end of Jeffrey’s ultimatum, Ariana didn’t believe in giving her own. Folding her arms over her chest, she stared at Quinn. And waited.

  “You can’t believe everything you hear.”

  She laughed, but the sound was as bitter as she felt. “Try another one.”

  He spread his hands open wide. “Things aren’t always as they seem?”

  A reluctant smile pulled at her mouth. “Better.” But not enough.

  She turned and headed back into the bedroom to get dressed. Back into the room where they’d made love. And because they’d been so close, so intimate, because she’d seen him with Sam, in her heart Ariana knew Quinn hadn’t had her sister offed. No way in hell.

  But she needed to hear the truth from him or she was through. He still wasn’t talking. She began the embarrassing morning-after process of retrieving her clothes that were scattered around the room. She bent down for her T-shirt when Quinn laid a hand on her shoulder. Her heart beat triple-time in her chest and her skin tingled, memories of last night overwhelming in their intensity.

  He knelt down beside her, his breath warm against her neck, and whispered softly in her ear. “I’m an undercover cop and your sister’s safe. There’s nothing else I can tell you.”

  She sucked in a startled breath. “You’re a-”

  He placed a hand over her mouth. “Do not repeat that word out loud. Especially not here. Understand?”

  She nodded and he released her.

  Her cheeks tingled from his touch as surprise and something so much deeper coursed through her veins. His last slip of the tongue had been real. Quinn was a cop, not one of Damon’s goons. Unless he’d turned, but she knew that wasn’t even a remote possibility. She’d always known he was a good man. She wouldn’t have slept with him otherwise. And she’d sensed his nobleness even when he refused to give her the answers she needed. Which was why her feelings and emotions regarding this enigmatic man were bizarre, conflicting, and now that she’d slept with him, even more complicated.

  He turned her toward him. “I’ve swept this place for bugs but I’m not about to risk a lengthy discussion here.” He still spoke at barely a whisper.

  Ariana remained silent, the enormity of what he’d revealed just now settling over her. Not his occupation, which was enough of a shock, but the fact that he’d trusted her with the information. She understood what that must have cost him.

  The most she could do in return was accept his request to remain silent. Reaching out, she cupped his cheek in her hand. “You didn’t sleep with me because Damon said you should stick close to me.”

  “Did it feel like that’s why I slept with you?”

  She sealed her lips over his in reply.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Connor pulled up to a small house in a town about thirty minutes from Damon’s casino. The outside was well maintained, unlike the dilapidated older houses surrounding it. He double-checked the number against the paper Maria had given him, before climbing out of his car and walking toward the front door.

  He’d been waiting for this moment for so long, his palms sweat like he was on his first date. In Connor’s life, not much affected him anymore. Until he’d met the dark-haired sexy woman with a smart mouth and an obvious reluctance to get closer-which was just fine with him since he didn’t want anything long-term or serious either. He just couldn’t get her out of his head and he hoped like hell this date would be a good start.

  He was heading up the driveway when a young kid, probably a neighbor, followed a basketball that rolled across the grass and came to a halt by Connor’s feet. He appeared about six or seven years of age. His dark hair stood straight up as if he’d slept wrong, had a cowlick that wouldn’t tame, and had been avoiding a hairbrush for days.

  “Hey, mister.”

  Connor knelt down on one knee. “Hey, yourself.”

  “Whatever you’re selling, we don’t need.” The boy puffed out his chest as if he were the man in charge and stared Connor down.

  Connor could well relate to the kid’s bravado, having been a similar tough guy in his day, and he stifled a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m no salesman. But who are you anyway, the neighborhood welcoming committee?” he asked wryly.

  The kid shook his head. “I just take care of what’s mine.”

  “Then go on home and do that,” Connor said, chuckling. Gone were the days when a kid should play alone in the streets, and Connor glanced around, wondering if someone was looking out for him.

  “I am home.” He pointed his thumb back toward the gray house and wrinkled his nose, looking at Connor as if he were a complete moron.

  An uneasy feeling crawled up Connor’s spine at the same time he heard a familiar voice call out. “Joseph Anthony, get yourself into the house now!”

  Connor stood, looking toward the house to see Maria standing beside the open screen door. Ignoring him, she waved toward the kid, motioning for him to come inside.

  “Aw geez, Mom.” Joseph stomped up the driveway and into the house, ducking under his mother’s arm.

  His mother. Holy crap, Connor thought.

  Maria said something low to the kid, something Connor couldn’t hear, before she stepped back out onto the front porch and shut the door behind her. She folded her arms across her chest in the defensive posture Connor had come to recognize. “I see you found the place okay.”

  “I have a good sense of direction,” he said, finishing the short walk up the stone path to the house.

  She nodded. “You can leave now if you
want to.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “Tell me why you think I’d want to.” Stupid statement since he now understood her reasons for keeping him at a distance and putting off any overtures he’d made.

  “Because you wouldn’t be the first, for one thing.” She studied him warily.

  Hell, he thought, running a hand through his hair. He should have just accepted her signals and backed off. He was a guy who only knew how to take care of himself and chose his women accordingly. He’d made a promise at a young age-he’d never be a bastard like his father and run off on a woman and a kid. Someone who wasn’t an adult and wasn’t responsible for the choices of those around them. The easiest way to accomplish that had been to pick women who liked their affairs free and easy.

  His nerves jumped as he walked up the two steps and joined Maria on the small stoop. He found himself at an unusual loss for words.

  In full defensive mode, Maria stared him in the face, daring him to glance away or back down. “I’m sure your interest in me didn’t include a kid. Joey and I are a package, so now that you know, why don’t you save us both a lot of grief and take off.” Tension and distrust emanated from her in waves.

  She was obviously testing him. Forcing him to make a decision before anyone got hurt. Smart woman, he thought. Once again he wished he’d heeded her signals, yet at the same time, he was still drawn to her, even more so now that he knew there was more to her than just the cocktail waitress he thought would be good in bed. Oh hell, he’d sensed that all along. Wasn’t that why he’d pursued her relentlessly?

  “Maybe you underestimate me,” he said. Just as he’d obviously underestimated her.

  She shrugged. “That remains to be seen.”

  He glanced at her and felt his reserve softening. He’d only seen her at work, in a tight “Damon’s” T-shirt and black miniskirt. Now he viewed her in a different light. Dressed for their date, she wore a pair of black pants and a light blue sweater with a nice, deep V that accentuated her lush curves. Gone were the sneakers; in their place, black shoes with a slight heel. And when he looked into her wary eyes, he noticed she’d put on a minimal amount of makeup, enough to entice but no heavy artifice to cover the real Maria.