Leaving Bluestone Page 11

  Lily’s pile was pitiful, unlike her. After her first hand, which had actually been pretty good, her tells gave her away and she hadn’t won another hand. He hadn’t seen any evidence of her usual hard-edged play. She almost acted like she didn’t want to be here.

  After a few hands, she stood. “I’m beat,” she said. “And I have another early morning.”

  Quinn gave a pointed look to her meager stack of chips. “Not like you to quit while you’re behind.”

  “I’m not feeling too crafty tonight. Good night, everyone.”

  Without cashing in her chips, she headed out the door.

  Another hour passed before Quinn could get rid of the other two. He thought he held himself still despite the antsiness that plagued him, but Leo kept sending him these knowing looks. Finally, Beth stood to say good night, not forgetting to cash in her healthy supply of chips. Leo lingered a little longer, like he was waiting to be let in on some secret, but when Quinn wasn’t forthcoming, he carried the last of the bottles to the recycle bin and headed out.

  Quinn stood in his darkened bar for another ten minutes, trying to talk himself out of what he was going to do.

  Then he strode out the door and across the street to the landing.

  Chapter Eight

  Lily tossed the tangled sheets aside in frustration and sat up with a groan. She was tired but her mind wouldn’t shut off. She tried to bore herself to sleep with numbers, but her thoughts continued to drift to Quinn and his unreadableness. Honestly. He couldn’t stop touching her when they were in Kansas and now he barely looked at her when she was sitting right across from him. Damned stubborn man. Okay, she’d slept with his best friend, but that was two years ago and Gerry was never coming back and she was lonely. She was lonely and she was in love with Quinn. Even if he decided to leave Bluestone, she wanted time with him.

  A knock at the door scared the crap out of her. It wasn’t a polite knock, either, of someone who didn’t know if they were intruding with an after-midnight call. No, it was a demanding knock that sent her heart flying into her throat. She knew even as her feet hit the floor who it was.

  The only person it could be.

  She padded barefoot to the door in her long flannel nightshirt—the nights were chilly already—and opened the door.

  Quinn stood there, shoulders tense in his white T-shirt, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans for the split second before he took them out and grabbed her, dragging her forward, one hand in her hair, the other around her waist. Then his mouth was on hers, hot and hungry, lips firm, almost like he didn’t want to be doing this but had no choice. When she recovered enough to wrap her arms around his neck, he softened a bit, closed the door behind him and pinned her to it.

  Maybe she was dreaming, because this was just as she’d always imagined. He pressed his hips against her, giving her no doubt as to the reality of the situation. She gave a little moan of encouragement, he growled in response, stepped back and swept her into his arms.

  Lily was a tall woman, and not one who usually encouraged lovers to carry her to bed, but Quinn lifted her effortlessly and maneuvered her down the hallway without bumping her head on the pictures hanging on the walls. Heart pounding in anticipation, she watched his face, so grim in the dim light, not lover-like at all.

  Then she was on the bed, tangled sheets beneath her, and he stood over her, just watching her. Waiting for her to say something? To send him away? As many times as she’d fantasized about this, she couldn’t think of a thing to say, so she reached her arms out to him. The sound he made when he lowered himself over her was pure need. She lifted her mouth to meet his as he held his weight off of her, his hands braced on either side of her, his thighs parting hers, his jeans rough against the bare skin of her legs. She twined her legs around him to bring him closer and—God. His erection was hot and hard behind his fly. She rolled against it, wanting to ease the pressure between her legs. He lowered one hand to her hip, holding her to the mattress. His lips abandoned hers to slide over her cheek, to nip at her ear, to caress the soft skin below. She moaned as his stubble scraped the tender flesh, as his tongue soothed it before coursing down her throat to her collarbone. Who knew kissing that could be so sexy? She shoved the fabric aside to allow him greater access, her skin tingling all over in anticipation of where he’d go next.

  Then he was gone, on his heels between her legs, looking down at her. She cast about for what she might have done wrong. Before she could reason it out, he grabbed the hem of her nightshirt and shoved it up. She sat too and helped him drag it over her head and toss it aside. His gaze riveted to her breasts, and she thought she heard him swear before he covered them with his hands and lowered her to the bed again, no longer attempting to protect her from his weight. It was as if he needed to absorb her. His fingers plucked her nipples, his mouth devoured her throat. She managed to slide her hands beneath his T-shirt, over the warm skin of his back. The play of his muscles beneath her palms was sexy as hell, and she dragged his face back to hers so she could kiss him. After a hot, intense kiss, she tugged his shirt over his head. His chest hair rasped her tender nipples, and she arched into it, savoring the sensation.

  “You have condoms, right?” she asked, biting the lobe of his ear.

  He grunted and nodded, and covered her breast with his mouth. She may have squealed, just a bit, because he reached up and placed his fingers over her lips when he turned his head to the other. God, the heat of his mouth, the play of his tongue, and his hand sliding down her waist to trace the waistband of her panties made her crazy.

  He slipped his fingers beneath the elastic. Just the brush of his fingers against her curls made her surge her hips up and cry out. He lifted his head to look into her eyes and then he parted her with a long finger. His touch slid over her swollen flesh. She hadn’t thought she was so close, but when she spread her legs to welcome his touch, the light caress sent her over the edge. She gripped his shoulders as she came, losing herself in the waves of pleasure. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her still, that half-grin on his lips, the bastard.

  “I should’ve known you’d be loud,” he said, withdrawing his touch long enough to peel her panties down her legs, leaving her naked on the mussed bed before standing to unbuckle his belt.

  Willing her orgasm-weakened muscles to work, she sat up and reached past his belt for the fly of his jeans. She glided her palm over the hard length of him through the denim, causing him to hiss. Then she popped open the buttons, aware of his hands fisted at his sides. When she peeled down the fabric of his boxer briefs, his erection sprang free, thick and long, just as she imagined. Still floating from her climax, she leaned forward and kissed the tip.

  Quinn made a strangled sound in his throat and braced his hands on her shoulders. She had the feeling he would have pushed her away except that she parted her lips over the head of him and drew him into her mouth.

  His fingers tightened on her shoulders as she took him as deep as she dared, then slid back up, dragging her tongue along the underside.

  He did push her back then, his breathing heavy. “Can’t—Jesus, Lily.”

  She peered up at him, his tight expression, his tense shoulders. Was he saying he couldn’t make love to her, or couldn’t wait? As if in response, he shoved his jeans down, struggling a moment when he realized he’d forgotten to take off his boots. So he dropped to the edge of the bed, fingers fumbling with the laces, before he turned to loom over her, finally, finally completely naked.

  She scooted back on the bed and reached for him, wanting to feel the length of his body along hers, hard and hair-roughened. She traced the muscles in his biceps and chest, slid her touch over his stomach until she felt the muscles jump, then closed her hand around his length. She angled her head back to watch his eyes go dark as she stroked him.

  “Where’s the condom?” she asked.

  “Pocket,” he managed, and shifted to get his jeans, bending so that she wouldn’t stop touching him as he dragge
d the pants close and snagged the plastic packet. He opened it, and she took it from him. His eyes widened as she rolled it onto him and lifted her hips in invitation.

  He didn’t hesitate, but moved slowly, as if afraid, like her, this might be a dream. He nudged gently at her opening, and pushed deeper. It pinched a little—it had been a long time. But then he was fully seated inside her, his arms braced on the mattress beside her, his breathing heavy.

  “Okay?” he managed.

  “No, I changed my mind.”

  A tremor ran through his body and he began to withdraw. She tightened her legs around his ass—and what an ass—and held him to her.

  “I was joking, you idiot.” Tightening her legs further, she twisted and flipped him onto his back, holding him deep inside her. She glided her hands up his chest to his shoulders, then captured his hands and pinned them to the mattress above his head.

  He looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. She bent to kiss his mouth, taking in his surprised breath, then eased down to kiss his shoulders and chest, and started to move. She held his gaze as her rhythm intensified, and she released his hands.

  “You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” One hand tangled in her hair, the other rode her hip as she rose over him so both his hands rested on her thighs, circling in erotic patterns.

  That, and the way he was watching her, his eyes intense, his nostrils flared as if he wanted to catch her scent, turned her on beyond expectation. She tossed her hair over her shoulders and covered his hands with hers as she made love to him. He thrust up into her before he sat up and wrapped his arms around her, then rolled her onto her back. She whimpered in protest when he pulled out, then he closed his lips over her breast and slid his hand between her legs.

  “Inside me,” she whimpered, clinging to his head as his lips pulled at her nipple. “God, Quinn.”

  He teased her opening, circled the bundle of nerves with his thumb, and everything in her tightened, ready to fly apart. And then he pushed his fingers into her, sucked harder on her breast, and she came, long ribbons of heat and pleasure unfurling through her, melting her right into the mattress.

  With a chuckle of satisfaction, he hooked her leg with his elbow and thrust into her, covering her mouth with his as he filled her completely. She folded her arms around him, holding him to her as he stilled and shuddered with his own climax.

  His breath blew hot and heavy against her ear for a few moments before he rose off of her and rolled onto his back, staring at her ceiling.

  “You okay?” he asked finally, turning to look at her.

  She let out a breath on a laugh. “I’m great.”

  He sat up with a grunt. “Want some water?”

  “I’ll get it.”

  He pressed her shoulder back to the mattress. “I’ve got to get up anyway.” He gestured to the condom, then swung his legs off the bed and rose.

  There was something about a perfect naked male form wandering around one’s house. She rolled onto her side to follow his progress from bathroom to kitchen. He returned a few moments later with two bottles of water, then sat on the edge of the bed. Her stomach dipped. He was going to leave. He was already regretting what they’d done. She could sense it. She could barely swallow the sip of water, and averted her gaze.

  He trailed his fingers through her hair at her temple, stroking it back over her shoulder. Her fingers trailed up to his tattoo, the first time she’d seen all of it, a beautiful memento. But she wasn’t thinking, because he shifted away from her touch. Wonderful. She’d just reminded him of Gerry. She couldn’t think of a thing to say to make him stay, and the silence stretched between them.

  “You have an early morning,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to go, then.”

  She willed tears not to form as she nodded. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. He stood, dressed as she stayed on the bed, wondering if she should dress too, or at least get under the covers, but she didn’t move. He sat on the bed again to put on his boots.

  “It was amazing,” he said, cupping the back of her head and kissing her once more. “See you tomorrow.”

  He left her, alone and confused, and unable to sleep.

  Chapter Nine

  Lack of sleep and being wham-bam-thank-you-ma’amed did not put Lily in a good mood the following day. What the hell had he been thinking? He waited all that time to make love to her and then had bolted afterwards? Coward. She was half-ready to march over to the bar and grill and tell him so, but she was too pissed. Of course it was going to change everything. She’d known that when she’d gone to him in Kansas. She’d known that when she let him into her house last night.

  The fish must have been scared of her attitude because they kept their distance. Trinity was not as wise. She came over to talk about the stupid Winter Festival which Lily never should have started because she had no desire to think about it now.

  Trinity sensed her friend wasn’t giving her full attention to the task at hand and looked at her closely, but Lily couldn’t discuss it with her. She couldn’t tell her friend she’d slept with Quinn. They were all friends and that would just make everything weird between them.

  “Let’s go over to Quinn’s and have a drink.”

  “You can’t drink.” Lily jabbed a finger at Trinity’s rounded belly.

  “I’m allowed a pop a day.”

  “I have pop.”

  Trinity leaned forward. “Are you and Quinn fighting again? I thought everything was good after you went down there for his dad’s funeral.”

  “You know Quinn. He’s not the most communicative person on the planet.”

  “So you are avoiding him. God, Lily, you didn’t sleep with him when you were down there, did you?”

  Lily could honestly answer, “No.”

  Trinity sat back. “Thank God, because that would be a huge mistake.”

  Lily couldn’t stop the indignation. “Why?”

  “Because the two of you are way too much alike. I mean, you fight all the time now without sex. I can’t imagine how bad it would be if the two of you got together.”

  Lily wanted to protest, but knew that would just raise her friend’s curiosity. So she said nothing and forced her attention to the details of the blasted carnival.

  ***

  Quinn waited all day for Lily to come in from the lake and come into the bar. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, how giving she’d been, how sexy, how bold. He’d relived every moment of their night, and was eager to repeat it. After five, his head snapped up every time the door opened, but no Lily. By six-thirty, he was beginning to worry, and by seven, he knew she wasn’t coming in.

  Okay, so he hadn’t been the most romantic guy last night. There’d been no cuddling afterwards, something he definitely wanted to remedy. There’d been no seduction, for that matter. Another thing he could remedy. But he’d been thinking of her, knowing she needed to be up early, knowing she probably didn’t want anyone to see him slipping out of her place at dawn.

  “Beth, hold down the fort for me, will you?” he asked, tossing open the bar divider and striding toward the door without waiting for an answer.

  He crossed the lot to the landing and saw Lily walking out with Trinity. He stopped and watched. Maybe they were coming across to the bar after all. God knew those women could talk. Perhaps they’d just lost track of time. But instead they turned and walked down toward the diner. Okay. Maybe Trinity didn’t want to go someplace where there was drinking, since she couldn’t indulge. Or maybe she was craving something only the diner had. It didn’t mean that Lily was avoiding him. He’d wait a little while, let them eat dinner, then he’d try to talk to her.

  He managed to hold off for an hour before he left the bar again and crossed to Lily’s. He knocked on the door and she opened it, her expression tight. Behind her, he could see Trinity was still there. Didn’t she have a husband to get home to?

  “Can we talk?” he asked with a poi
nted look at Trinity.

  Trinity stood with a sigh. “Hello to you too,” she chided. “I should be getting home anyway.” When she walked past Lily, she gave her shoulder a bump that Quinn didn’t understand.

  “Let’s walk out on the dock,” Lily said when Trinity left, already stepping out of her house.

  Again he tried not to read anything into that request. She probably wanted to shove him into the water. He probably deserved it, so he let her lead the way.

  “What did you want to talk about?” she asked.

  As if she didn’t know. “When you didn’t come into the bar, I thought you might be avoiding me.”

  “Maybe I was.”

  That was a blow to the chest. “Why?”

  She pivoted toward him. “Why? You couldn’t get out of my place fast enough last night, Quinn. You came in, didn’t say a dozen words to me, took me to bed and left.”

  “What did you want? Me to spend the night so everyone could be talking about us this morning?”

  “What would it matter if they did?”

  Because he wasn’t fully committed to staying in Bluestone. Because he didn’t want people thinking she was easy. Because, because, because—hell, he hadn’t known what to say to her last night after the best sex of his life. Escape had been the easiest thing.

  “I didn’t really know how to deal.”

  Her face transformed into her I-was-right expression, which just put his back up.

  “I’ve never been good at the aftersex talk.”

  She angled her head, eyes narrowed. “So I’m just like everyone else you’ve slept with?”

  “No. God. You see?” He tossed his hands up. “Anything I say, you’re going to find fault with.”

  She folded her arms and nodded. “Probably. You haven’t exactly caught me in the best mood. So look, I’ll let you off. We’ll just say it was a mistake and forget about it.”