Just as his hands were working her blouse up, the storm of the kiss ebbed for an instant, and she pulled back and stared up at him as if she’d just realized who the hell he was and what the hell he was doing to her. He paused his fondling as he waited for a signal, a glimmer that she wanted him to keep going.
“Should I stop?” he panted. Say no, say no, say no.
“I don’t know. What are we doing?”
He dropped his forehead against hers. One corner of his mouth quirked. “You honestly don’t know?”
A laugh bubbled out of her. “I know what we’re doing, but what are we doing? Gage is going to kill us.”
Two questions struck him at once: Was she looking for an escape because she wasn’t into him? Or was sheinto him and, unlike him, was thinking ahead? If they took this further, where he longed to go, it wouldn’t be casual—not for him—and Gage would find out. As bad for his health as that might prove, all of him wanted option two.
He straightened, slid his hands from under her blouse, and placed them on her shoulders. “I thought you said we wouldn’t tell him.” Now he sounded like a stupid kid again, which pulled some of the wind from his lusty sails. His cock didn’t get the message, though. It just wanted Sarah, and it was begging for release, pushing so hard against his fly it might split the zipper momentarily.
To his chagrin, she pulled away and straightened her clothes. His mind wandered to whether her breasts were still exposed under the blouse, and he stifled a groan along with the urge to get his hands back on her and find out for himself.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have started this.” Her voice held a small quaver he tried to decode.
“Even if your brother finds out and beats my ass, it’s totally worth it.”
She smiled, and he took it as a sign and drew near once more, snaking his hands around her waist and snugging her to him. She didn’t resist, melted against him, and he took her hand and placed it back on his crotch. “Maybe we shouldn’t have started it, but how do you want to end it?”
She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and dipped her gaze to where her hand rested on his dick. Unabashedly, she stroked him again and raised her molten eyes to his. He nearly lost it. “Maybe we can help each other out,” she murmured.
His hands moved under her blouse of their own accord. The thrill of discovering the lacy cups weren’t back in place made his shaft dance. She blinked, and a slow, lazy smile curved her lips. Teasing her breasts, brushing her nipples, he cocked an eyebrow. “Help each other out how?”
She leaned in to his ear, increasing the friction outside his fly. His eyes might have rolled back in his head and stayed there. “Well,” she whispered, “I think it’s been a while for you, and I know it’s been a while for me, and if this is just sex—”
He froze. Went completely still. His brain, which had been floating in and out of a sex-induced daze, suddenly came on board at full capacity. Why did the words “just sex” leave him a little chilled? They were the same damn words he would have used, so why were they balling in his chest, ready to flare into heartburn?
Just sex. Was that it for her? The question surprised and confused the hell out of him. More questions raced through his head. Compared to Wolf, would Quinn disappoint? Was Quinn capable of living up to what she was used to? What would it take to capture her heart?
Answers were as fleeting as his control had been mere moments before.
He withdrew his hands and glided them up and down her arms—on topof the fabric. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Sunshine, but—”
With a growl, Archer hopped up, alert, his body straining toward the French doors leading to the deck.
Sarah removed her hand from Quinn’s fly and hissed, “What is it, Arch?”
Glass crashed. Archer barked. Sarah’s eyes popped wide, a mirror to Quinn’s own.
He spun in place, adrenalin speeding through him like a dam bursting—unlike the pleasurable dopamine rush he’d been enjoying. In the shadows by the French doors, something glimmered on the floor. He glimpsed his hockey stick propped against a doorframe. Another pivot, and he faced Sarah and squeezed her arm. “Go to my mom’s room and stay there. Make sure you keep your phone on you.” Archer whined beside him. “And take Archer.”
Sarah called the dog, who looked torn between her command and wanting to investigate with Quinn. Quinn waved a hand at him. “Go take care of your mom.”
The sight of Sarah and Archer trotting away gave Quinn a gust of relief. He grabbed his stick and headed for the glass doors. Before he reached them, glass crunching beneath his shoes brought him to a halt. He dropped into a crouch and ran his fingers over a rock sitting among scattered shards. Cold air blasted him. He glanced at the door, not surprised to find its pane shattered.
Someone threw a fucking rock through the door!
He flicked on the deck lights and stepped through a different French door. Were those footsteps coming from the pool surround below? Oddly, the motion sensor lights didn’t come on. All his senses sharpened. Cautiously, he worked his way down the steps that led from the deck to the pool level, his eyes sweeping the darkness that enfolded the landscape around it. Normally, the area was illuminated by timed lights, but when his feet hit the bottom landing, he was plunged into
