Indelibly Intimate (13 page)

She might be hungry but it sure as hell wasn’t for lunch.

Running his fingers down her shoulder and then lacing them through hers, he pulled her toward him. “Come here.”

As he guided her behind the screen, he glanced over his shoulder. People milled around but none of them were looking their way. Good. They’d need a little privacy. He wasn’t about to let his little firecracker go hungry. Not when he knew what she wanted and was ready and willing to supply.

“What are you…”

“Ssshhh.” He silenced her with a finger against her lips. “Let me.”

Kneeling in front of her, he unbuttoned her shorts. They made a whisper of sound as they fell to the floor. The black lace of her panties, right there at eye-level, was mouthwateringly gorgeous. Her belly was soft against his forehead as he leaned into her, his hands creeping behind to caress her ass.

“Hammer,” she whispered as she rubbed the smoothness of his shaved head. “You want to do this here?”

In answer, he slid her panties down, revealing the strip of curls that crowned her pussy. His fingers found her as if magnetized, running through the soft curls then delving between the silky, damp folds. She gasped, clutching his shoulders.

“Easy,” he whispered.

A sudden burst of laughter from the booth behind them made Quinn jump. She bent down to pull up her panties.

“Trust me.” His whispered command didn’t leave room for argument and he sighed as she let the fabric fall once more.

He lifted her foot, hooking her leg over his shoulder. The entrancing scent of her pussy, mere inches away, sent a jolt of lust straight to his already throbbing cock. Using his hands to keep her steady, he began a slow, thorough exploration of her wet core. His tongue delved through the folds, licking and sucking and getting lost in the sweet heat of her.

He had half a mind to stay there all day, and damn the thousands of people only feet away.

Chapter Thirteen

On edge
didn’t even begin to describe what Quinn felt as she stood there helpless, one leg hitched over Hammer’s shoulder while his talented tongue tortured her pussy. The voices, the thumping of music from a couple booths down, footsteps and shouts and the ever-present buzz of tattoo machines, kept reminding her she was in a room
full
of people while Hammer went down on her. Any second, someone could pull aside the corner of that flimsy curtain and see her there with his hands and mouth all over her. And while the idea mortified her, it was also strangely erotic.

“You should stop,” she whispered again, arching her back as he slowly sucked her clit. “Really.”

He ignored her somewhat reluctant voice of reason, which flooded her with relief. When he rubbed upward, his thumb separating her folds to enter her, she almost moaned aloud. It was too good, his mouth on her clit, his thumb deep in her pussy. Her hips began moving without her permission. She kept her hands on his shoulders to keep his mouth and his fingers moving on her.

A shuddering breath left her as he removed his mouth and glanced up at her. “You want more, don’t you, Sparky?”

“It’s not a good idea,” she said but hoped he could see her longing. She didn’t bother trying to mask it.

Without replying, he lowered his lips to her again. His thumb continued sliding in and out, her slick response easing the way. Her knee shook, both from fatigue and the surplus of feelings overtaking her.

She should probably move. Lifting the leg that hooked over his shoulder, she began to swing it free. Suddenly she stopped, clutching his shoulders harder. His thumb had left her wet pussy and was pressing against the tight hole behind.

“Hammer,” she gasped.

“Sssh,” he said. His lips were shiny, wet with her juices, as his thumb breached her body. Heat saturated her veins, pumping hard as lust overtook her good sense.

His thumb moved slowly, the penetration forcing her brain into a lusty haze. She moaned softly, reveling in the sensation. Voices grew louder in the booth in front of them. Someone was there, only inches away.

Her eyes flew open and she looked down at him in a panic. He shook his head.

She held her breath.

“Nice portfolio. Have you heard of this Tattoo Hammer shop?”

“Nah. Looks like he’s new. Good stuff though. Must be out to lunch. Want to come back later?”

“Yeah, I wanted to go see if that tee shirt guy is still there. Did you see those sick designs he had?”

The women’s voices faded away as they moved on. Quinn’s knee nearly gave out and she leaned heavily on Hammer for support. He must have been unprepared for her movement. As she sank down, his thumb penetrated her as deep as it could go. A surprised squeak escaped her before she even thought.

Hammer’s gaze flew to hers. Her cheeks flamed and she listened hard for anyone who might have overheard her outburst. The sounds of the convention continued uninterrupted around them. Thank heaven for small favors.

A slight wiggle of Hammer’s thumb brought her back to the moment. Sensations chased away by fear returned with a vengeance. She bit her lip as he began a slow, sensual, probing thrust.

“You want more, don’t you?”

She couldn’t stop her nod at his whispered question. No matter how crazy it would be to have sex with him in this situation, she wasn’t going to be satisfied with a quick orgasm. She wanted penetration with more than his thumb. A lot more.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, running a finger along his jaw. His eyes glinted with hunger as he looked up at her. “Please.” She ran her thumb across his lower lip, savoring the silky feel of his skin and her own wetness.

He didn’t wait for another invitation, and for that she was incredibly grateful.

Ducking beneath her leg, he came to his feet. She stumbled but he righted her before reaching into his pocket and grabbing a condom. A quick unzip, the tearing of foil, and he bent her over the chair.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his whisper hoarse.

“Yes,” she said, spreading her thighs wide.

With a single, swift thrust, he plunged his cock deep into her weeping, pulsing pussy. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. He filled her up, the heat of his hardness stretching her body as she stood, bent over the back of the metal chair. The sounds surrounding her faded, the voices, the music, the buzz of fresh ink, until all she could hear was Hammer’s ragged breath and the soft smack of his hips against her ass.

Arching her back to bring him closer, deeper into her body, she looked up. A tiny gap in the curtain revealed the booth beside them. It was easy to see people moving around, talking, laughing as money was exchanged and art changed hands. She should ask Hammer to stop, to adjust the drapes. What if someone saw them?

Just then, a light smack rent the air as Hammer’s palm connected with the flesh of her ass. “You saw that gap in the curtains, didn’t you? You like that they can see you getting fucked, don’t you?”

The voyeuristic idea shot another twinge of lust to her lower belly and she moaned softly. Her fingers found their way to her clit and she rubbed it slowly as Hammer’s rhythm increased.

“You want them to see you and me, don’t you? Make them jealous.” His fingers dug into her skin and he pounded his cock inside her harder, faster. She matched his rhythm, manipulating the hard cherry between her legs that throbbed and burned for more.

He smacked her ass again and she bucked against him. Her nipples were hard as fuck, rubbing against the back of the chair as her breasts bounced. Hammer rubbed the sting of pain from her hip before smacking her again. Another glimpse at the curtain. Was that guy watching them?

She pinched her clit as Hammer connected again. The pleasure, pain, danger, thrill, all of it concentrated into that hard little button between her legs. At any moment, she’d explode.

“Quinn. Come now.”

His wish was her command. Pressing down on her clit, she reached the peak she’d been straining for. Colors burst behind her eyes as fire lit her veins, melting down and concentrating in her pussy. Shuddering heartbeats shook her, the rhythm starting in her drenched core and shooting aftershocks throughout her limp body.

Another thrust, then two, and Hammer found his release, gasping and pumping hard into her. His cock twitched within her as he came, heat filling her already burning lower belly.

She collapsed over the chair back, praying it could hold her weight. Her legs weren’t up to the job anymore.

Hammer stared at Quinn’s limp body as she draped herself over the chair. His brain, finally getting back its share of blood supply, staggered around his skull, dazed and amazed at what had just happened. Had he honestly fucked Sparky in the middle of the convention floor? Damn. That was unexpected. Incredible, but fucking unexpected.

Reality reared its ugly head, making Hammer shake his. After a gentle pat on Quinn’s ass—reddened from his earlier ministrations—he reached down to fix his clothing.

“Come on, Sparky. We need to get dressed.”

She sighed but didn’t move.

Once his pants were zipped, he pulled her to her feet, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Do you need help?”

“No.” While searching for her discarded panties, she started to speak again. “I can…”

“Hey, anyone here?”

Hammer and Quinn both jumped. He almost laughed at the way she jerked her clothing back on. Apparently the afterglow had worn off and her surroundings were all too real again.

“Stay here, I’ll take care of it.” With one last kiss on Quinn’s forehead, Hammer rounded the curtain.

This guy was lucky he hadn’t been there five minutes earlier. Hammer wouldn’t have acknowledged him for anything in the world. In fact, he’d have become downright violent to anyone who disturbed them. The feeling was an odd one and he did his best to shake it as he greeted his customer.

The man had a lot of questions. Hammer answered them quickly and thoroughly, all the while trying his damnedest to keep the vision of Quinn’s naked ass, bouncing as he fucked her, out of his brain. It was damn well impossible.

Once the guy finally left, Hammer poked his head around the curtain. “It’s safe now.”

Quinn gazed up at him and his blood warmed. She looked like a woman who’d just been thoroughly fucked—tousled, dazed and more than satisfied.

He let his lips curl upward. “You ready to come out now, Sparky?”

Without any kind of smart comment, she stood. Her smile wasn’t her usual mischievous, nearly wicked one. It was smaller, softer, more introspective than he’d seen before from her.

“Let’s go get some lunch.” She took his hand and he let her lead him from the booth.

The small café across the street was crowded, full of colorfully inked convention goers. Hammer was quick to grab a table by the door, recently vacated by a guy with bad tribal armbands.

“Hey Sparky, sit here. I’ll get us some food.” He didn’t realize until after he’d spoken that he’d ordered her, not asked her. For once she didn’t prickle but slid into the chair he held out for her.

“Hey, can I borrow your phone while you’re doing that? I want to check in with Kim.”

“Sure.” He passed her the shiny iPhone. “I’ll be right back.”

She smiled up at him and as he wound through the many tables to the counter, he couldn’t help but feel like a million bucks. This girl had definitely done something to him. Damn if he knew what, and damn if he cared.

The line was long but the employees were clearly used to these sorts of crowds. At Hammer’s turn, he thanked the guy behind the counter for the tray laden with food. As Hammer pivoted, he caught sight of Quinn at their table. Her cheeks had gone ash gray. She clutched her forehead and stared darkly at the phone in front of her.

Fear gripped his spine.

“What’s wrong?” The drinks tilted dangerously as he dropped the tray on the table. “Are you okay?”

“I talked to Kim.” She rubbed at her eyes. “She went to my apartment to check on my fish.”

“And?” Hammer dragged his chair closer to her and sat. Grabbing her free hand, he massaged her knuckles with his thumb. “What’d she say?”

“The landlord padlocked my place.” The tears finally overflowed. She sniffed and said, “I don’t know what happened. I know I was a little behind but I’d been talking to him. He said he understood, that he’d work with me.” A sob broke free and she pillowed her head on her arm. Her fingers clutched at his, shaking as her tears took over.

Hammer was completely lost for words. What the hell could he say to fix this? She’d basically been told she was homeless. His guts were in knots, his chest suspiciously tight. Anger welled in him, a fever that gripped his muscles, directed toward the jackass who put his Sparky through this.

He hadn’t known her long but he knew for a fact it took a
helluva
lot to break this woman. The sobbing creature in front of him had been through hell. If Hammer ever found this guy, he’d beat the living shit out of him.

“C’mere.” Hammer held her close to his chest.

She balled her hands in the fabric of his shirt. Her tears spread warm wet patches through the cotton. He rubbed her back, not saying anything, hoping his presence would convey what words couldn’t. The busy restaurant hummed around them, seemingly oblivious to the sobbing girl and the man who held her.

A few moments later she regained control of herself. Sitting upright, she rubbed her tears away. “I’m sorry, Hammer. I’m better now.”

He grabbed a napkin from the tray. She accepted it with a grateful nod.

“Don’t apologize. We’re going to fix this.”

“How?” She wiped her reddened cheeks. “The only way I can make enough money to keep my apartment is to climb naked on a pole and that’s not happening.”

He grabbed her and stared into her tearstained eyes. “You’ll come live with me.”

Had those words come out of his mouth? The stunned look she gave him pointed to
yes
.

The more he thought about it, the more certain he was.

“Live…with you? Hammer, that’s so generous, but you can’t…”

“I can and I am.” Sureness colored his words and he sat a little straighter. “Come on, Sparky. You know as well as I do that we’re good together. What have you got to lose? Come live with me.”