PICKING HER UP, Jace carried her down the hall to his bed. They’d shared it last night, but this was different. There was still a part of him that felt like he was...taking something that wasn’t his.
It didn’t feel wrong, but it didn’t quite feel right, either.
Although, when he was touching her it was hard to think about anything else. And Quinn didn’t let him put much space between them. When he tried to pull back and recover some distance, she simply grabbed him and rolled, pillowing her head on his chest and tangling their limbs together.
What was he supposed to do?
His hands settled into the curve of her waist and the swell of her hip.
She let out a small, contented sigh that somehow both soothed him and ratcheted his tension higher. Within a few minutes the even drag of her breath told him she was asleep. Which was good. She’d had a rough couple of days.
He wasn’t so lucky.
His muscles tightened, slowly winding beneath the pressure of the tension trying to claim him. It could have been minutes or hours, he wasn’t certain.
When her phone rang, he was so taut he nearly vaulted off the bed.
Quinn made a confused, mewling sound, her lashes fluttering before finally opening to reveal dazed eyes.
“What?” she asked, her voice sleepy.
Going up on an elbow, Jace reached over her to the bedside table. “It’s your cell.”
He’d plugged it in to charge and turned it back on for her while she was washing her face and getting ready for bed. “Huh?” she asked, even as he shoved the thing into her hands. She hit the green button, probably more out of habit than true intent.
Jace could tell the moment her brain kicked in, clearing out the last cobwebs of sleep. She bolted straight up in bed. His sheets slithered down her body to pool at her waist. Soft moonlight slid across her pale, freckled skin. Jace wanted to lean forward and press his mouth to the tiny spots.
But the expression on her face stopped him.
Shock. Loss. Followed quickly by crystal-clear anger.
Her voice was smooth as steel and just as hard when she said, “Give me ten or fifteen minutes and we’ll be there. Thank you.”
She ended the call, but stared at the phone for several moments, stunned by whatever news it had delivered. Jace half expected the thing to just melt into a useless lump of plastic beneath the fire of her glare.
He reached for her, running his hands softly across her shoulders and down her back. “What’s wrong?”
She turned her head and Jace’s hands stilled. His shoulders bunched and within seconds he was bounding off the bed, ready to kill whoever had put that expression on her face. All he needed was for her to point him in the right direction.
“That was the police. Someone broke into my house. Trashed it.”
“Trashed it?”
She nodded. “They didn’t give me details but...I’ve heard enough cops deliver bad news. Thank God, no one’s dead, but he said it in that same tone of voice. It isn’t good.”
Reaching into a drawer, Jace jerked out a pair of jeans and a T, and was dressed in record time. Quinn was ready right beside him, her mouth a tight, unhappy line.
They reached the bedroom door together, but before she could go through, he snagged her arm and cradled her to him.
Gently, his mouth found hers. The move was pure instinct, the need to soothe her. At first she was stiff, maybe surprised, but within a couple of beats she was melting against him.
Jace felt the swarm of emotion she’d been fighting unfurl through her muscles. Her arms wrapped around him as she pressed soft curves into his hard body. She let the heat and comfort he was offering sink in deep, accepting what he was trying to give her—something good to think about instead of what they were headed toward.
After several minutes he slowly pulled away. She blinked up at him, the anger and irritation replaced by a dreamy haze. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long and he had to watch it melt away again.
“Dammit,” she finally whispered, burying her head in his chest.
“You’re fine. We’ll get him.”
A harsh sound scraped through her throat. “At the moment, everyone better hope the cops get to him before I do.”
Jace bit back a scoffing sound of his own. Like he’d let Warren close enough for her to do anything to the man. Because if she was close enough to hurt him, Warren was close enough to hurt her.
* * *
GOD, HER PLACE was a wreck. More than a wreck. Every piece of glass had been smashed—windows, mirrors, glasses, picture frames. Even the tiny crystal Eiffel Tower Michael had brought her back from a trip to Europe when they’d first started dating.
Her clothes had been thrown out of the closet and dresser. But that hadn’t been enough. The bastard had taken a pair of scissors and ripped into every single piece she owned.
Someone had slashed straight through her mattress. Sharp pieces of coiled metal stuck up where her body should have been. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
Every piece of furniture she owned was either smashed or broken. A few of the more solid pieces looked as if they’d been chopped up with an ax, angry slashes of scarred wood shining through the veneer of polish and stain.
When the call had come in she’d only been pissed. There hadn’t been room for much more. But it had only taken her a few minutes of shuffling through the debris of her life for that to be overshadowed by fear.
Which only pissed her off more.
How had she become a hostage in her own life?
“Where the hell is he?” Jace’s voice rose from where he stood with one of the cops in the corner of her living room.
A handful of other officers milled around. Their movements looked random, although Quinn was certain they had a purpose. They wouldn’t wander aimlessly through her broken house in the middle of the night for shits and giggles.
Jace’s face was thunderous as he looked around, cataloguing the destruction of her home. Fists rolled into tight balls at his sides, he stared at the officer in front of him.
Quinn had been on the receiving end of that intense gaze on more than one occasion. It had been intimidating enough then. But now that it was full of impotent rage, she felt sorry for both men.
Thinking to defuse the situation, she moved in their direction.
His voice was hard, a low, dangerous rumble. “This is the third time this man has threatened her. What does he have to do before someone arrests him?”
Another officer strolled purposely toward them. Good, more reinforcements. “Trust me, we’d like nothing better. Given Ms. Keller’s previous complaint, Mr. Warren has already received a visit from us.”
“Fabulous,” Jace ground out between his teeth.
Reaching the little group, Quinn placed a hand on Jace’s arm. He dropped her a quick glance and then jerked his attention back to the two men in front of him. But his other hand settled over hers and squeezed.
He was upset, but not on the edge. She’d experienced that moment enough herself to recognize the signs and he wasn’t there.
Actually, looking around at the mess once more, she was surprised she wasn’t close to losing her temper. A few days ago she definitely would have been. Worrying about keeping Jace calm had given her something to focus her attention.
“Mr. Warren has an alibi. There’s no way he’s responsible for the break-in.”
“Having an alibi doesn’t equal not responsible. Especially with his money and connections.”
One of the officers frowned, deep grooves bracketing his mouth. Reaching up, he rubbed a heavy hand across his neck, bending beneath the weight.
“We realize that. But it’ll take time for us to prove that and connect the dots.”
“She could be dead by then,” Jace growled. “Do you know what his next move might be?” He didn’t wait for a response. “No, neither do I, but I know I don’t really want to find out. He’s getting more aggressive. This was a message, destroying the things she cares about and demonstrating he can get to her anytime he wants.”
Both men shifted uncomfortably. Jace wasn’t saying anything they hadn’t already realized, but they didn’t particularly like that he knew it.
“We’re doing the best we can, Mr. Hyland.”
“That’s not enough. What’s it going to take? Her ending up bloody and bruised like his poor wife?”
“No.” The single word was emphatic. “She’s already got 24/7 protection from you. We can place a unit outside your place as backup.”
For the first time, Quinn broke into the conversation. “For how long? I’ve already put my life on hold. I have a job. People depending on me. I can’t hole up indefinitely.”
“No, ma’am. But at least for a few days. We can reevaluate then, see if the threat has changed.”
Quinn cursed under her breath. She couldn’t help but feel that hiding was the equivalent of letting him win.
The radio on one officer’s shoulder squawked. He pushed a button and spoke, walking several feet away. The other officer went back to whatever he’d been doing.
They went about their jobs, but she could tell Jace was still struggling to contain the fury rolling through him.
It was hard not to appreciate his reaction, the protective streak that had him wanting to take care of her and the entire situation.
Sighing, she shuffled through the wreckage to the center of her den.
Staring at the window frame and the plywood Jace had nailed up to cover the opening left by the baseball, Quinn said, “Guess I need to call the window guy and tell him I need more than one repaired now.”
She could feel Jace, the radiating heat and sheer physical presence of him, when he stepped up beside her.
“I’m so sorry, Quinn.”
She shrugged. “Not your fault.” What else was there to say?
“No, but I hate seeing your home this way. It must hurt.”
She swiveled her head, taking in the destruction. She’d expected it to hurt. And, yes, there were things she was disappointed to lose, but they were things.
She’d learned a long time ago, things weren’t as important as the people you shared them with.
Shrugging again, she answered, “Not really.”
He pivoted, glass crunching and grinding beneath his feet.
“What do you mean?” he asked. He stared at her as if she’d gone mad. Or maybe as if she could go mad at any moment, finally cracking beneath the pressure.
Funny, she didn’t feel under pressure.
“Yes, it’s going to be a pain in the rear to get everything replaced, but...they’re just things.”
“Things you and Michael shared. This was your home together.”
Quinn looked his way, although her body remained pointing away from him.
She took him in, all barely leashed power and vitality. He was brimming with energy and the need to do something. To fix and protect.
Apparently he still hadn’t learned you couldn’t save everyone. Or everything.
It was a realization she’d come to long ago.
“Michael hasn’t been here in a very long time, Jace.”
Her words were soft, although she knew that wouldn’t make them hurt less.
“How can you be so calm?” His voice rose, drawing stares again. Leaning down, he picked up a piece of something she couldn’t identify and dropped it back down again. It broke into a few more pieces, but Quinn didn’t care.
It didn’t matter. Broken was broken—two, five or twenty thousand pieces didn’t make a difference.
“How can you be so upset? These aren’t even your things.”
“That asshole paid someone to break in here and destroy your home, your sanctuary. The place you shared with Michael.”
“No. He paid someone to break in and rip apart a few inanimate objects. It’s my choice whether or not I let him steal something more. And I refuse to give him that power.”
Jace stared at her, eyes wide with confusion. “I don’t understand you,” he ground out.
I know, she thought, but didn’t say it. Instead, Quinn walked away. She couldn’t force him to see it from her perspective.
“If you’d been here. You could have been hurt. Seriously hurt.”
And suddenly, she understood. Anxiety and fear. She’d struggled with that debilitating concoction herself after her parents died, constantly worried about who else could be stolen from her life.
Eventually, she’d realized that the worry was wasted energy. She couldn’t stop it, if it was going to happen. She hadn’t been able to save Michael or prevent her grandmother from having a heart attack. It was out of her control.
The only thing she could do was be grateful for each day she had with the people that mattered.
Closing the space between them, Quinn rose up on her toes. Hands bracketing his face, she found his mouth and placed a soft, soothing kiss there. “But I wasn’t,” she whispered. “You were protecting me, Jace.”
* * *
THE DRIVE BACK to Jace’s place was heavy with unspoken words. The weight of his silence pressed across her chest. They were both lost deep inside their own heads. Part of her really wanted to know what he was thinking.
The rest of her feared it would just make a difficult night even more untenable.
Opening her car door, Jace silently waited for her to get out. His tall, strong body towered above her. The heat of him radiated up and down her spine, a delicious sensation that had her melting before he’d even touched her.
She didn’t have to watch him to know his gaze was darting around the dark parking lot, searching for any sign of a threat. The black metal of his gun was nestled in his palm, ready and waiting.
Quinn sighed, suddenly exhausted by everything that had been happening for the past few days. It was late. Or early. Closer to dawn than midnight, for sure. She’d just lost all of her possessions and it would probably be weeks before her home was habitable again.
Slumping against the wall right inside the door, she let Jace do his hunt and destroy mission through the apartment. Letting her head fall back, she closed her eyes and just listened.
A few days ago she couldn’t pick out a single sound as Jace moved through the place. Tonight she was hyperaware of him. The barely audible swish of his shoes against carpet. The squeak of a floorboard under his weight. His fingers pushing open a door.
Behind closed eyelids, she could see the way his body moved, the give and take of muscles as they rippled. His strength and focus. The intensity burning deep inside his blue eyes.
She was so afraid that one day the intensity was going to burn her up. Or burn out. It was the situation. Sure, Jace had said he’d wanted her for a long time, but he’d been able to deny himself. Until now. Protecting her had pushed some buttons deep inside.
But it couldn’t last. This wouldn’t last.
Eventually she’d lose. Again. How often was she destined to end up alone?
Unbidden, tears stung her eyes. Clamping her jaw shut, she forced them back. Not now. Not tonight. God, she’d held it together at the house. She didn’t want to lose it now.
She had to be strong. She always had to be strong.
But apparently tonight she just didn’t have any more to give.
Quinn didn’t realize she was actually crying until something soft brushed against her cheek. Her eyes popped open and she found Jace standing in front of her, staring at her bleakly.
She felt the same hollowness inside. But tonight she knew they could fill the empty spaces for each other.
Leaning forward, Jace pressed his warm lips just beneath her eye. Her lids fluttered but didn’t close. He kissed away her tears one by one. The gesture left her with the sweetest ache.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her skin, pressing his lips against her jaw, forehead, nose and chin.
“For what?”
“Everything. That he’s hurting you.”
How could she tell him Warren had nothing to do with the tears she was shedding? Quinn just shook her head, unable to form the right words to explain.
“That I hurt you.”
Maybe she didn’t need words after all.
He tried to say more, but Quinn placed a finger against his mouth, silencing him. “Shh.” Pushing up on tiptoes, she fused her lips with his.
What he’d given her was sweet and delicate. What she gave to him was fluid energy. The very beginnings of passion. That edge right before the crackle erupted beneath her skin and restless anticipation took over.
Jace groaned, his hands cradling the back of her head and pulling her closer. His fingers tangled in her hair, tightening. He moved into her, pressing her back against the wall. She loved the way he surrounded her, all hard muscle. The reminder that even beneath this honeyed moment he was barely leashed strength and delicious excitement.
But tonight, that wasn’t enough. She wanted more from him. Slipping out from beneath his body, she grasped his hand and led him down the hallway to his bedroom.
Stopping in the center of the room, Quinn turned to face him. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. There was a bright light in the back of his eyes, a fire that she could feel racing across her own skin.
She trembled, her entire body quivering beneath the weight of his need for her. It was heady and scary. But Quinn had never been the kind of person to back down out of fear.
He made a move to close the space between them, but with a quick shake of her head Quinn stopped him.
His gaze sharpened, turning predatory, but he stayed right where he was. His fists clenched at his sides, proof of just what it was costing him to give her this.
That tight control only made her want him more. Made her want to see just what it would take to break the hold he had on his actions and emotions.
Crossing to him, she grasped the hem of his shirt and in one fluid motion pulled it off. His head bent so that he could watch her, but he stayed still. The only thing that touched her was his fiery gaze.
A shiver rocked through her body.
Her palms played across his skin, a tingle shooting up from her fingertips. He was hot to the touch, smooth and silky.
She wanted more.
Letting her hands trail down, she relished the hitch in his breath as her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans. He hadn’t bothered with boxers when they’d both scrambled to find clothes and race out the door earlier, and now she was grateful.
Especially when the swollen head of his penis brushed against the backs of her fingers. A groan rumbled up through him. Quinn thought about pressing her mouth to his chest so she could feel his pleasure reverberate through her own body.
But uncovering him was more tempting.
Tugging at his button and zipper, she slowly peeled away the denim separating them. God, he really was beautiful. Hard and heavy with his need for her.
Her own body reacted immediately, a liquid fire burning and aching at the center of her sex. She wanted him there, filling her, moving slowly and driving away absolutely every thought but how amazing he could make her feel.
Dropping to the floor in front of him, she unlaced his boots and made quick work of tossing them behind her. Even before the second one had hit the dresser with a thud, he was kicking his jeans off.
And Quinn couldn’t tear her gaze from him.
She wanted to touch and taste, pull him deep into her mouth.
Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips in unconscious reaction to the thoughts rampaging through her brain. Jace groaned, his hands weaving through her hair again.
Quinn leaned back, letting her gaze travel up him. From her vantage point, she had the perfect view of his well muscled body. Yes, he was gorgeous, but that wasn’t what had her so turned on she could barely catch a full breath—not that she didn’t appreciate the package.
It was the way he watched her. Cradled her head in his powerful hands as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched, and didn’t demand a single thing from her. Which only made her want to give him everything.
But she wasn’t done torturing him.
Pushing up from the floor, she took several steps away. He reached out, trying to keep her close, but she evaded him.
Tugging her own T-shirt over her head, Quinn let her hair rain down around her shoulders. She reached behind her, flicking open her bra clasp. The straps slid down her arms, the sensation of satin against her tingling skin almost more than she could bear. Jace’s hungry gaze latched onto one bra strap, following the torturously slow descent, stoking her need higher.
His ribs expanded and contracted beneath the smooth expanse of his tanned skin.
The scrap of satin and lace she’d been holding hit the floor. Jace swallowed, his throat convulsing.
There was something so...powerful about the moment. A gift they were sharing. And he hadn’t even touched her yet. But she felt the pressure of it, an ever-strengthening band twining tighter between them, drawing them closer.
Quinn tugged at the button of her fly and then her zipper. The rasp of metal teeth was loud in her ears. Digging her thumbs into the loosened waistband, she dragged her shorts and panties down in one swift motion. They pooled at her feet, instantly forgotten.
Quinn stood in front of him fully naked, enjoying the tortured groan Jace couldn’t quite hold back.
It was heady, knowing she could make him want her so badly.
Taking a single step, Quinn closed the space between them. Jace’s hands settled on the curve of her waist, digging in and pulling her closer.
His face buried in the crook of her shoulder. She expected him to kiss her there. Instead, he simply inhaled.
“God, you always smell so good.”
Her skin pebbled at the sound and feel of his words.
She wasn’t just standing before him physically naked. She was baring much more than her body. Without realizing it, she’d started revealing her soul. And maybe taking a piece of his in return.
Quinn worshipped him with hands, lips and tongue. She wanted to touch every part of him. To feel and measure, cherish and discover.
This wasn’t the broken dam of physical need their first joining had been. Or the carnal frenzy of earlier. It was more. Profound in a way that had a lump of tears gathering again at the back of Quinn’s throat.
The way he looked at her...it sent shivers through her body. As if she was the only thing preventing him from drowning. As if there wasn’t a single thing about her he didn’t want and need.
As if he was finally free and she was the one who’d given him the key.
When he scooped her up in his arms, a muffled squeal of shock fell from her lips. Kneeling on the bed, he set her gently onto the soft gray sheets before stretching out beside her.
He propped himself on one elbow, letting his fingers play up and down her body. She was spinning, her world tilting off its axis.
She tried to roll into him, to bring them together, but a heavy hand spread in the center of her stomach held her in place. He teased and tortured, brushing calloused fingertips over her body.
His talented fingers plucked at her aching nipples, rolling and soothing before bringing them back to a sharp point of need. He pressed his mouth to her shoulder, kissing and biting his way up to her throat.
His tongue rimmed her ear as he blew a soft breath against her dampened skin. The base of her spine tightened with a restless ball of energy that just kept growing and growing.
She had no idea how long he teased her with caresses that were never enough. But by the time his hands and mouth moved lower she was already writhing, her body silently begging.
She was a mass of raw nerves and need searching for the relief only he could give her.
Flattening her palm against his chest, she could feel the racing beat of his heart thumping furiously against her palm. The heat rolling off of him seared her skin. Her hand traveled down, over the swell of his pecs to his abs and ribs. She brushed against the black ink curling across his stomach and the raised ridges of tissue hidden beneath. For the first time the reminder didn’t make her inwardly cringe. It only made her need worse.
God, this man was perfect in so many ways—inside and out.
The heavy weight of his hand settled over hers. Staring straight into her eyes, he directed her hand lower. Quinn sucked in a harsh breath, unable to look away from him, not even to watch what they were doing.
As she wrapped her fingers tight around the jutting hardness of his erection, he sandwiched her hand between his velvety smooth shaft and his firm palm. Jace’s eyes slipped closed and his head tipped back as a deep groan dragged past his parted lips.
Quinn began to stroke him. Up and down, slow and hard. Her hips pumped in time to their rhythm, unconsciously seeking more for herself even as she was completely absorbed with the thrill of watching him come undone.
Out of nowhere warm fingers skated up the inside of her thigh. She jumped, startled at the unexpected contact, but quickly sank into the sensation. He easily found the throbbing, aching heart of her. And, God, his touch felt so damn good.
As her thighs dropped open, Quinn’s hips arched upward, silently asking for more. She wanted. Needed.
Jace traced fingers around her opening, teasing her sensitive flesh. He found her clit and rubbed, driving her straight to the brink.
She ached. Throbbed. Whimpered, the needy sound clawing at the back of her throat.
And then he was plunging two fingers deep inside, stretching and rubbing and making her pant in desperation.
Matching the stroke of his fingers to the slide of their joined hands around his sex, all Quinn could think about was how it would feel if he was deep inside her.
Her body craved the images her mind conjured up.
“Please,” she groaned, unable to keep her hips from pumping hard against his hand. Her mind wanted him, but her body was greedy enough to take relief in any form.
“What, beautiful? Tell me what you want.”
“You!” she cried. She was so close, forcibly holding off her release. But she couldn’t do it for long.
Jace reared away from her. Quinn nearly sobbed out her frustration when everything stopped. Until he shifted, pressing her deep into the bed. She could feel him, nudging at her entrance, and she just wanted him there already.
Digging her fingers into his rear, Quinn rocked up at the same time she drove him down. They slipped together like a key into a lock. Relief and peace stole through her.
How could anything that felt this right be wrong? It couldn’t. She and Jace were perfect together.
He groaned, his mouth finding her ear. “I’ll always give you what you need, Quinn. Always.”
And then he was moving. They were both past the point of slow and easy. Pleasure spiked through her over and over again. She wrapped her legs high around his waist and used the leverage to meet him thrust for desperate thrust.
Together, they strained for that one, pure, perfect moment they could share. She knew it was there, shimmering just out of reach.
His hips pistoned against hers. Sweat and need mixed on his skin. The mingled tastes burst across her tongue when she latched onto the base of his throat and sucked. A low, tortured sound rumbled up through his chest.
Quinn closed her eyes, her vision going black with starbursts of bright color. And then everything was on fire—her body, the world around them. It rampaged through her, stealing her breath, forcing out a strangled cry of relief.
Somewhere in the back of her brain Quinn realized she’d lost control of her body. She was shaken by the force of her release. The only thing that kept her grounded were Jace’s arms tight around her.
And then he was yelling her name. She could feel his release. Loved knowing he was buried deep, losing himself in her.
Wrapping her arms tight around him, Quinn cradled him with her body. His shoulders shook, arms trembling from the strain of keeping the full weight of his body off her.
But she wanted it. Wanted all of him. Tugging, she relished the way he gave and collapsed onto her.
His labored breaths sounded in her ear. His racing heart beat right beside her own less-than-steady pulse. Their fevered bodies slid together, settled.
It could have been three minutes or thirty, Quinn had no idea. But soon her sweat-slicked skin got chilled. Still, she didn’t want to move. Not when Jace was tracing mindless patterns along her shoulder and arm.
She was happy. Content. If someone had offered her the chance to freeze the moment and live inside it forever, Quinn would have taken it.
And then Jace had to go and ruin it.
“We lost him today, two years ago.”