Indelibly Intimate (10 page)

“You’ve got a deal. But no cheating. I’ll be watching.”

Chapter Ten

Hammer kept up a steady stream of chatter all the way home, which was unusual for the somewhat reticent man, but Quinn couldn’t bring herself to reply with more than one-word answers.

She’d lost the bet.

Not only had she lost, she’d lost spectacularly. If it were the medieval times, a bard would be writing a song right now to immortalize her epic defeat. She’d thrown gutter balls for every one of his strikes. It was humiliating.

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the passenger-side window. Six nights in bed with him. That would double their time together. How was she supposed to rebound and walk away while being obligated to spend more time with him? And how would she keep from falling for him? She wasn’t ready.

“Something wrong, Sparky?”

The silence clued her in that he was waiting for her reply. She shook her head slightly to clear it. “No, I’m fine. Thanks for dinner.”

He smiled over at her as they pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. “No problem. We’ll go somewhere nicer tomorrow night if you want.”

She bit her lip as she gathered up her purse and pulled the door handle. “No need. I can get my own dinner tomorrow. If you don’t mind, I’ve got to go make a phone call.”

The door she slammed shut muffled his somewhat befuddled, “All right.”

She didn’t turn back as she left the Jeep behind. She needed some air, some time to clear the thoughts that had become way too muddled by her night with Hammer.

The night was warm, approaching hot, and Quinn blessed the breeze wafting from the Patapsco River nearby. She rounded the corner of the hotel and found a little garden nook, obviously a designated smoking area, with large ashtrays at either end of a wooden bench. She collapsed on it, dumping her purse beside her. It was nice to be alone for a minute.

She slumped forward and put her head in her palms.

“Sparky, listen. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

The bench creaked as Hammer sat beside her. She tried to ignore how good his broad hand felt rubbing her back. He didn’t say anything else, just sat beside her, easing her tension with only his presence and his touch.

With a sigh, she leaned into him. “I should be apologizing to you.”

He shushed her and pressed his lips to her temple. He sat with her for a long time, much longer than she’d expected.

Straightening, she smiled at him. “Ready to go inside?”

He nodded and picked her purse up for her. The small gravel stones crunched under their shoes as they headed to the door of the hotel.

Her insides were more settled now. Not
right
—because she was still nervous. But better. Hammer was different than she’d expected. Sweeter, kinder, but with a backbone steel could envy. He wasn’t going to let her run all over him, and to be honest she liked that. It was sexy.

His hand lay on the small of her back while they rode the elevator, never drifting downward to fondle her ass, even though they were alone.

Once they’d reached their floor, he held the door to their room open for her. “After you.”

She peered at him almost shyly as she entered the room. It was an odd feeling, this uncertainty of what would happen next. Well, she
figured
they’d probably end up having sex, but she didn’t
know
that. He certainly hadn’t been treating her like a piece of meat so far, notwithstanding the whole six-nights-in-bed bet.

“If you don’t mind, I thought I’d jump in the shower.”

She jumped at the voice that came from right behind her. “Oh yeah. Fine.”

Her gaze followed him as he gathered his things and disappeared into the bathroom. When the door clicked closed, she collapsed on the nearest bed. The anticipation was going to kill her.

The next twenty minutes were pure torture. She switched on the TV to distract herself but nothing was on but some crappy local news and a Lifetime movie. Not exactly quality programming. She paced in front of the window, trying to decide what to do. She’d gotten as far as moving to California and starting a fish-taco cart with the four hundred dollars she hadn’t won when the door to the bathroom opened and a plume of steam wafted out.

Hammer stepped into the room, wearing only a white towel wrapped low on his waist. He rubbed his head with another one, his eyes even greener against the bleached-white of the terrycloth. “Your turn.”

Her mouth went dry and when she tried to gulp, she almost swallowed her tongue. Choking, she gasped, “What?”

The corner of his mouth curled. “The bathroom. If you need it, it’s your turn.”

“Oh.
Oh.
I see. Sorry.”

She grabbed an armload of supplies from her suitcase without even looking to see what she had and flew into the bathroom, collapsing against the steam-dampened door when it clicked closed.

Holy shit, that man was even more gorgeous with his clothes off. With nothing to distract her from his vibrantly tattooed body, her libido had jumped straight from zero to throbbing.

With a deep, calming breath, she laid her stuff out on the counter. She’d grabbed a bottle of lotion, a razor, two pairs of panties and some hairspray. Brilliant. Just fucking brilliant.

She twisted on the tap anyway. She couldn’t go back in that room right then. If she saw him naked again, it would be all she could do to stop herself from jumping him. And she was pretty damn sure she wouldn’t do all she could do.

His soap smelled like sandalwood with a hint of cedar. She couldn’t help but imagine him rubbing the bar all over his body and it made her nipples perk with interest. Cursing her stupid hormones, she made quick work of the rest of her shower, even switching the tap to cold to rinse off. It didn’t help.

After donning one of the pairs of panties she’d brought in with her, she wrapped herself in a towel, turbaning the other around her wet hair. As much as she didn’t want to leave the safety of the bathroom, she didn’t have a choice. Her blow-dryer was still in her suitcase. Is she didn’t dry her hair, she’d resemble a giant lint ball tomorrow. Not good.

Cracking the door slightly, she peeped out. The TV was still on but the volume was low. She leaned farther, trying to catch a glimpse of Hammer.

On the far bed, he lay on his side, dark lashes resting on his cheeks. His breathing was even and slow. The blanket only reached his ribs, revealing his lack of a shirt. He looked completely asleep.

She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed by that as she grabbed her hair-dryer and pajamas from her suitcase and disappeared back into the bathroom.

Once she was alone again, she examined herself in the mirror. The wide-eyed, wet-haired woman staring back at her seemed afraid as she clutched her towel-robe. Dropping the cover, Quinn glared at the image in front of her.

“What the fuck is your problem? So you want him. So what? He hasn’t said boo to you, so get the fuck over yourself. He’s only a man. Dry your hair, get dressed and go the fuck to bed.”

With a decisive nod at the now-nude reflection, Quinn set her chin and plugged in the blow-dryer. She’d go to bed all right. She’d take the fucking bull by the horns, was what she’d do.

When the hair-dryer clicked on, the sound muffled through the wall, Hammer opened his eyes with a deep sigh. Sparky was wired so tight he was surprised she’d come out of the bathroom at all. From the way she’d run in there, it looked as if she planned to sleep in the tub. Sort of odd for his prickly girl. He liked the piss and vinegar she usually boasted much better than the wary confusion she’d exhibited since coming back into the room.

Pushing back the covers, he sat up and scratched his arm. He hadn’t meant to push her into anything, he’d just wanted to show her he couldn’t be controlled as easily as she seemed to think. The idea that she only wanted him for a rebound man stung and he wasn’t going to take it lying down. But damn if he didn’t still want her, and bad.

He glanced at the rumpled covers on the other bed. The memory of her on her knees, ass in the air, cheeks spread at his command, brought a pulse of interest to his groin.

He flopped back against the pillows as the hair-dryer silenced. He should probably pretend to be asleep. He had all weekend with Quinn plus the promised extra three nights. He could afford to let her get more comfortable. Stretching beneath the covers, he flexed his toes and yawned before rolling to his side and letting his lids drift closed.

When the door opened, he slit his right eye open. She was dressed in a cute little tank-and-shorts set, powder blue with cartoony sheep cavorting all over the bottoms. Her hair was smooth and full and it swung as she bent over to rummage in her suitcase. He bit the inside of his lip to distract himself from the sight of her ass in those thin booty shorts. This promised to be a long night.

She straightened and he slammed his lids shut. Not quickly enough though.

“I saw that.”

He ignored her, keeping his breathing even.

“I know you’re awake.” She laughed, a sound that warmed him all the way through. “Don’t play possum with me.”

He couldn’t let that one pass. “Possum?” He arched a single brow as he opened his left eye.

“I knew it.” She shut off the TV. Her bare feet padded softly on the carpet as she came to stand between the beds, looking down at him with the curtain of her hair falling over one shoulder. In the lamplight, strands of her hair glowed reddish gold. Her gaze flitted away from his face to slightly lower on the bed. Her voice went husky. “Are you naked under there?”

The sudden change of subject nearly gave him whiplash. “What?”

The mattress bounced slightly as she flopped down beside him. “I asked if you sleep in the nude. I wasn’t sure if I would be poked all night by Mr. Happy or not.”

His lips curled of their own volition. “Well, ma’am, that entirely depends on your opinion of the matter. Mr. Happy is pleased to oblige you in whatever capacity you require.”

The over-the-top Southern accent drew a true laugh from her. He made a mental note to do it again later. Her laugh made his insides warm. A good feeling, that was for damn sure.

“I haven’t quite decided yet.” She drew circles on his inner arm, tracing the curves of a plume of smoke wrapped beneath a gargoyle’s gaping maw.

“Is there anything I can do to help you make up your mind?” He watched her as she ran her fingers from his arm up to his chest, tracing a line down the center. The aforementioned Mr. Happy definitely took notice of her touch. He didn’t have to look down to see the covers lifting slightly above his groin.

“I think I’ve made up my mind.” Her hand dipped below the covers, down the trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers. She frowned when she encountered the elastic band. “I thought you were naked.”

Without a word, he reached beneath the covers, lifted his hips and whisked off the boxers.

She gave a happy sigh as her fingers wrapped around his cock. “Much better.”

He lay back and watched her. This girl was mercurial. Only an hour ago she’d been so wired she could power half the hotel. One shower later and she was not only relaxed and happy but horny too. When she thumbed the slit in the head of his cock, he stopped trying to figure it out.

“You like that, don’t you,” she purred.

“You have to ask?”

“No.” The covers whispered, cotton against cotton, as she pulled them back. She made an
mmm
sound deep in her throat as his cock came into view. Heat flooded his groin at the hungry glint in her eyes.

Rising to her knees, she looked down as she manipulated his rigid flesh. Smoothing her hand up and down his length, she smiled. “I like how your dick gets so hard when I touch you.”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

She nodded, sucking on her bottom lip. “Mm-hmm.” Her fingers curled around his balls, hefting the twin weights.

Hammer’s spine arched. Damn, his Sparky had magic fingers. He had to stop her, had to take control or he’d lose himself way too damn soon.

She stopped him from moving with a palm splayed on his chest. “I don’t think so.”

He tilted his head in question.

“I may have lost the bet but you’re going to have to give me something too. I’m sleeping with you for six nights. Don’t you think I should have a say in how things go?”

Relaxing against the pillows, he gave a solemn nod. “You got it, Sparky. I’m all yours.”

She bent over and pressed her soft lips to the tip of his cock. “Good.”

The mattress bounced slightly as she stood and walked away. His sensitive skin was cold without the warmth of her palm. She disappeared into the bathroom. He’d had enough time to stare at the ceiling and beg for control when she reappeared with the plush hotel bathrobe.

He didn’t say a word as she pulled the white terrycloth from the hanger and tossed it on the other bed. Unknotting the wide belt, she pulled it free of the garment and turned to him with a decidedly mischievous twinkle.

“Here’s the deal. I sleep with you for six nights but you’ll have to let me do whatever I want in bed.”

He nodded toward the length of white fabric in her hands. “Do I take it you have some dominating tendencies?” He wasn’t a submissive kind of man but he would be crazy to deny her any damn thing she wanted in bed.