Catching Serenity (Serenity #4) (28 page)

But Quinn not wanting me? Not craving me? The arrogant brat in me doesn’t like that, isn’t sure she wants to walk away.

“Nothing at all?” I ask him, watching his reaction, squinting to focus on the twist of his mouth, the tiny twitch that moves his eyebrow, any tell that gives him away. There. Right there—the small pulse moving the corner of his top lip and I know he’s lying.

So I bluff. “Fine. If that’s what you want.” I turn, keeping my steps slow, trying desperately to keep my heartbeat steady.

“Sayo.”

It isn’t a question. It’s not a demand. Somewhere in the middle, something in his tone, there is truth. It reaches across the room, keeps me rooted in place. He’d warned me before, admitted he’d take and give and would offer no apologies. But in this tone of his is something that sounds an awful lot like need, a lot like possession.

I should walk away. No looks back. No second thoughts. Just leave him, leave this warehouse and forget that he ever touched me.

“Sayo,” he says again and this time that voice is closer. He’d moved like a whisper across the room and I hadn’t noticed.

Two steps more and Quinn is behind me. Three more and he rushes forward, forcing me to the wall, bracing myself with my palms flat. “Quinn…”

“No,” he says, leaning against me so I can’t move. “No, love, you stay still and answer a question for me.”

“Back off.”

He does, only to slip his hand to my chest, to slide his fingers under my bra and cup my breasts. “You’re so hot and cold with me, I never know who you’ll be when you come to me.”

Moving my head, I catch Quinn’s gaze over my shoulder. “You never give yourself to me, O’Malley. Never.”

He shifts, withdraws his hands to twist me around by the hips, not leaving much room between us, still holding me to the wall. “You might not like what you see in the real me. I don’t much like him myself…”

If I thought he’d continue his awkward interrogation, I was wrong. His grip lessens, his body relaxing into mine and suddenly he moves his forehead against mine, breath hot over my face, smelling of warm beer.

“You want him? The blonde? You want to be rid of me, Sayo?”

“Quinn…” I try, wishing he didn’t smell quite so good. Wishing that I didn’t remember how much I love the way his arms wrap around me, how the stubble from his face tickles my chest when he rubs it there. I wish I knew how to walk away, to take what had happened between us for the lesson it was.

I wish I didn’t want him so badly.

“Quinn…” I try again but he stands too close, feels too close and then our defenses weaken, they crumble and his mouth is on mine, his hands, mine, are everywhere, insisting, skilled, aching.

Bodies molding together.

Skin to skin, no room for regret.

There is only this sensation. This man. This moment.

Quinn touches me, takes me to floor, barely shoving my jeans off, hardly moving his pants down his hips before he hovers over me, sliding his hard dick against me.

“You don’t want this anymore?” he asks, his breath shaking, his hands sure as he guides himself over my pussy. “Can you walk away from this, love?” He slips inside me in one fluid thrust and I gasp, gripping hold of his shoulders as he kisses up my neck. “Because I damn well can’t.”

Words flit into my mind, defenses that are likely logical, seem reasonable, but I don’t speak them. Not with how well Quinn touches me, how he treats my body like a playground he’s only just discovered.

He is deep inside me, and I’m not sure how to be rid of him. I’m not sure I want to be. But Quinn is a man of few promises. As much as I crave this, he is a wild card I’m not sure I want to play.

When his heartbeat slows and he continues to kiss me, mouth wet, slow against my lips, breath panting and pleased, I touch his face, keeping him still enough that he has to look at me.

“What do you want from me?” I manage to whisper.

Direct questions demand direct responses and I wait with Quinn on top of me, softening inside me as he watches, scanning my face, looking for something, but I don’t know what that something is. And then, he closes his eyes, resting his forehead on mine and the faint hope I have dwindles into a dying spark.

Quinn’s touch is light and tender, and for a fleeting second I think I might be wrong, that he will give me anything, everything. Then, he rolls away from me, lying at my side with his arm across his forehead.

“Nothing, love. Absolutely nothing.”

AUTUMN AND I
had taken the run up to Fanning Falls in less than an hour, sweating now despite the frigid winter weather. It was a trail I never tired of running, with a winding pathway that curled around the river and moved up the mountain. It was the best place to clear your mind, something I needed to do more often.

As we come to the end of Duncan Street, the longest lane that runs through campus before it straightens from its bend to head right into the large park near the athletic fields, Autumn laughs. Her steps quicken, like a kid who’s just spotted an ice cream truck entering her neighborhood. She’s likely drunk on the adrenaline pumping through her body, likely sexually frustrated since Declan has spent much of this week in Atlanta because Quinn had insisted on some night life that didn’t include either Irish jigs or country music. Atlanta was the closest to that and Declan, Vaughn and even a reluctant Donovan had left for a boys’ weekend four days ago. They were due back, and the smile on Autumn’s face, I suspect, was a result of her spotting Declan’s Mustang parked in front of the athletic building.

“They back already?”

She nods. “Declan said he wanted to stop to talk to Coach Mullens before he and Quinn went home.”

“Awesome.” But it wasn’t, not to me. I had managed to keep out of Quinn’s line of sight since that night after McKinney’s. It was fine with me. Our little
Hey Now
was over.
Good riddance,
I thought.

We were ridiculous. Hot and cold, the pair of us, a fact I kept reminding myself of since I’d last seen him. But I hadn’t expected to miss him. I hadn’t expected that my mind would grow too full of thoughts of things that Quinn kept from me. Like when the chaos erupted around us, from our friends, my family, or the activity in Cavanagh when rugby matches ran over or ended with a win that combusted the entire town with laughter and happiness, none of which we felt at home in anymore. It was then that Quinn would come to me or I to him. We’d take each other to end the noise, to block out everything but sensation.

I missed how drunk he could make me feel. Like an addict.

“Gah, there he is,” Autumn squeals, running faster as Declan leaves the athletic building and catches her the moment she jumps into his arms.

“Oh, baby… love,” Declan mutters, then kisses her, holding her tight, giving back every hug, every touch she offers.

After a moment, Declan clears his throat, noticing me over Autumn’s shoulder. “Sayo…” he starts but I wave him off.

“No worries. I’m used to the public groping by now.”

“Sorry, sweetie,” Autumn says, dropping her legs from their spot around Declan’s waist.

“Miss me, did you, love?” Declan asks laughing when Autumn kisses his neck. “Ah, well, is it ‘sometime’ yet?” He asks even though he knows the response will be the same. But his smile falters when she only stands there, staring at him “What?”

“Yeah,” she says, biting her lip. “It is.”

There is a pause, a moment where Declan’s mouth drops open, where he looks as though all the blood in his body flooded to his face. A pleased, shocked smile stretches across his mouth while he just stands there, staring at Autumn, utterly at a loss. And then, slowly, he recovers. “Are you… you’re serious?” Declan says, pulling her by the waist so there isn’t an inch of space between them.

“Yeah, I am.”

It’s the moment, the one he’d pestered her about for two years, and he picks her up and swings her in an exuberant circle, laughing as he puts her down again. But Autumn being Autumn doesn’t let the shock settle. She simply accepts the way Declan kisses her, laughing at his excitement, and then she pats his chest, calming him as though she hadn’t just made him the happiest man alive. “Hey, what did you do with Quinn?”

Declan shakes his head, gives Autumn a “we’ll speak later,” look and then frowns, looking around the parking lot. “No idea. I told him to wait in the car.”

He looks around the building, moving his head, calling his brother’s name with Autumn mimicking him and me itching to just walk away. And I almost do it, even take a few steps back thinking that Autumn and Declan are too caught up in each other, in the curiosity of where Quinn had disappeared to that they’d not think to ask after me. But then Declan and Autumn freeze, and both stare over my head just as I catch the high-pitched laughter of a girl coming from behind me. I know that laugh. Dammit all to hell, I know that vapid laugh.

I’ve hated Heather Matthews for years, even before she’d decided Declan was her target of choice and tried to take him from Autumn. She was a fake little poser, like most of the girls, the Cockies, that were always loitering on the pitch, hoping for a glance, even a half smile from any of the rugby players. She wanted to attach herself to someone with clout and in Cavanagh that meant rugby players. Or, it would seem, a player’s half-brother.

I don’t acknowledge Autumn at my side or Declan behind her as I turn and see Heather flirting with Quinn. I only know that the piercing ache in my stomach is too much, that the raw fury that pumps in my veins comes from absolutely nowhere and everywhere.

“Mother. Fucker,” I hiss, jerking off Autumn’s hand when she tries to restrain me.

“Sayo?” Quinn asks, taking a step away from Heather, from those fake nails rubbing against his scalp, from those oversized, store-bought tits that she rubs against his arm.

“Shit,” I hear her say almost under her breath, and she retreats, backing away like she’s just discovered Quinn is a risk she’s not willing to take. She should run. She’d never gotten any retaliation from Autumn for trying to get between her and Declan. She’d never gotten so much as a tongue lashing from me for picking up Sam when I left him. She damn well deserved one now, but doesn’t wait long enough for me to glare at her, let alone run her off. She quickly turned tail and walked off without a backwards glance.

“Mind yourself with that one,” Declan tells Quinn as they both watch Heather cross the parking lot and head for a group of players hanging out near the pitch.

“Fast and loose?” Quinn asks, smirking. His tone is light and when he glances back at a shrugging Declan, adding, “Just how I like them,” it takes more than Autumn’s hand to hold me back. Hapless sod doesn’t pick up on it until I am inches from his face. He takes a step back, his eyes wide as he looks at my face. “What the bleeding hell?”

“Do
not
mess with her.” He retreats when I walk toward him, expression shocked.

“What…”

“You stay the hell away from her, O’Malley.”

“Yeah?” he answers, seeming to acquire a little of his old attitude, probably more to save face than for any other reason. “And why should I not play with her a bit? You and me,” he licks his lips, like the words have stuck in his mouth, “we made no bloody promises.”

“She cannot have you, asshole.” I’ve completely lost my mind. It’s the only logical explanation for how high my voice has risen, how my hands shake and for the thick knot that clots my throat. “Not today. Not any fucking day.”

“Sayo…” Autumn starts, but one quick wave of my hand and my best friend quiets. I can hear the low arguing between her and Declan, but don’t catch more than him quietly telling her to let me be.

“Why are you making demands, then? Telling me my business.”

“Calm down, the pair of you,” Declan says, but Quinn shakes his head, giving him a warning glare.

“No, this makes no sense. She wouldn’t…” he looks from his brother back to me. “The whole bleeding time it was ‘don’t talk to me, O’Malley,’ and ‘no emotion O’Malley, no attachments.’ For feck’s sake, you covered my gob when I’d compliment you and now what? Some bird gives me attention and you’re not having it? Jaysus, woman, I’m dizzy from your back and forth moods.”

“Wasn’t just me, was it?” I step closer and this time Quinn doesn’t retreat. “How many times did you just show up at my place? How many times did you act like you needed me?”

“And you welcomed me every sodding time. Don’t play the martyr here. No one is innocent.”

“Listen, both of you…” Autumn starts, seems shocked when Quinn and I both shout “Quiet!” at the same time.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Sayo, and you know, I don’t much care.” Quinn grabs my arm, voice low, lethal. “But you’ve no say in what I do or who I do it with.”

And just like that the truth hits me, makes my chest constrict. He isn’t wrong. I am behaving like a jealous idiot when I really, I have no rights. He gave me exactly what I asked for, when I wanted it and then I walked away. I was the one who made sure there was no connection. At least, I thought I did. So why the hell am I raving mad? Why am I making it clear to him that he couldn’t have Heather?”