Fortunately, she had just enough self-control in her tank that she held back the “Yours or mine?” on the very edge of her cottony tongue. She wobbled to her feet. “Whoa. Head rush.”
He staggered upward and held out an arm to steady her. She leaned against it. God, he had a nice arm. She wanted to feel it around her again, so she nuzzled against his chest and was rewarded when his arms encircled her, gently at first, and tightened. Strong, warm, safe. So safe. She could fall asleep like this.
Chapter 18
COVID Calling
She feels incredible!
Quinn stood rooted to the floor, afraid he might stumble backward. And he didn’t want to stumble. No, he just wanted to stand here and hold Sarah forever. Inhale her floral, powder-fresh scent. Memorize the feel of her warm, soft curves pressed up against him and the perfect way she fit him. It hadn’t taken getting drunk for her to look awful damn good—she’d already looked damn good—but now that he was totally buzzed? Jesus effing Christ, he wanted her like he’d never wanted anyone before.
She let out a little sigh and curled into him, her head snuggling against his chest. Damn! He laid his cheek on her soft hair, relishing the silky feel and the smell of her flowery shampoo. The move seemed to startle her, and she jerked in his arms. He loosened his hold. She stared up at him as if she’d just woken up. KissmeKissmeKissme. Please.
She shook her head. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Maybe not, but it doesn’t keep me from wanting to.” From wanting you.
In a move that caught him completely by surprise, she shoved his chest with both hands—hard—and he staggered backward, clamping down on her wrists for balance and inadvertently bringing her with him. As he toppled to the floor, he yanked her so she broke her fall by landing on him. Unfortunately, the move made him fall against a corner of the stone hearth. Something crunched, and bright heat raced through his shoulder.
“Oh fuck,” he gasped. “Think I broke something.” He raised his head and stared into her wide eyes staring back at him, all cat-gold and filled with something bordering on panic. Her body was draped over him, her parts lined up perfectly with his. Goddamn, it felt good! His dick agreed despite the pain radiating in his shoulder, and he began sliding her off of him so she wouldn’t notice the little problem that was quickly growing into a bigger one. A sound escaped her that had his mind whipping to what she’d sound like if she were naked and riding him.
Shit! Not helping.
“You okay?” he croaked.
Somehow Archer had become part of the scene, part-sitting, part-crawling, whimpering beside them. Sarah shot up, hoisting her weight onto her well-toned arms, hovering her body so close Quinn could still feel the heat drifting off her skin. “Fine. But what about you?” To the dog, she said, “It’s okay, boy.”
Quinn reached for his shoulder. “Shit, I think I dislocated something.”
She wrapped both arms around his good one, nestling it between her breasts. Sweet Jesus!
“Sunshine”—he winced—“you gotta let go of me.” Or I’m gonna flip you on your back and rip your clothes off. How he could contemplate ravishing her in the midst of the pain, he had little idea.
She dropped his good arm like a linesman dropped a puck in a face-off—forcefully. “Oh. Sorry.” She scrambled backward on her ass, bringing Archer with her, and plopped down on the floor out of Quinn’s reach.
“No, no. I didn’t mean to push you away.” He brought himself upright. “Fuck! That hurts like a motherfucker!”
She rose in a crouch. “What can I do?”
“Nothing yet.” He drew in and released three huge breaths, then hoisted himself to his feet. She followed suit, clambering to a standing position beside him. He side-eyed her. “Ever relocate a shoulder before?”
“What? No! I’ll call 911.”
“No! Those guys are around sick people all day, and I don’t want them near Mom.”
“What about a Blizzard trainer? They do this shit all the time, right?” Her voice had climbed an octave or two.
“No, they were exposed to the virus. Don’t want them here either,” he gritted out. “You can do it. I’ll walk you through it.”
Her eyes were owl-like, big and unblinking. “Have you done this before?”
“No, but I stayed at a Holiday Inn once.” He managed a half-smile.
A ferocious frown pulled her brows together. “Not funny, Sparky. Let’s try this again. Have. You. Done. This. Before?”
“I’ve seen it done. I know what to do.”
She hugged herself, shifting her weight from side to side. All of him wanted to pull her in for a one-armed hug and comfort her. “Okay. Where do you want to lie down?”
He jerked his chin toward the hall. “My bedroom. Let’s go.”
When they reached the bedroom, she hovered by the door and broke out in a smirk. “Wow. So this is how you get women into your bed. You play the injury card. Clever, Sparky, but seems like a lotta trouble.”
“Shut up,” he snorted. “I’m gonna lie down. You’ll grab my wrist—” He’d been rotating the shoulder, and something suddenly popped. The pain plummeted to a seven from fifteen on a ten-point scale. “Oh, thank fuck!” he panted and sat on the bed.
“What?” Her face was twisted with concern. Beside her, Archer, all smiles, did a happy dance, as if he knew the crisis had passed.
Quinn continued to work his shoulder. “Not dislocated after all. Just twanged, I think.”
“What can I do?”
“In my closet, top shelf, there’s a bin with braces and slings and shit. Pull it down. I want to immobilize the shoulder and ice it.”
She spun and faced several doors. He motioned to the correct one. She stepped inside the closet and sucked in a breath. “What the—? This is a closet? I can see myself everywhere … and it’s bigger than Lily’s living room!”
“I call it the house of mirrors.” He chuckled. Like everything else
