Indelibly Intimate (7 page)

“Do you need a menu or are you only here to get me in trouble with my boss?” Quinn held the menu against her chest like a shield.

“I have no intention of getting you in trouble, Sparky. Where’d you run off to this morning?” Hammer kept his voice cool and even.

“I left you a note.” Her cheeks bloomed with color. At least she wasn’t completely indifferent.

“Yep, I got it. Nice handwriting.”

“Look.” She dropped the menu on the table and braced herself beside it. “I’m sorry. Last night was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay. Message received. You want to back out of the convention?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. It’s not a good time for me right now, okay?”

“Got it.” Hammer picked up his helmet and stood. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

Even though she asked him to wait, he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He wasn’t about to start collecting notches in his belt like his brother, no matter how willing she was at the time. In the end, the women felt used and he wasn’t ever going to be part of that. If he ever slept with Quinn again, it’d be because she begged him. Not a second before.

Chapter Seven

Quinn slammed her car door and heaved a deep sigh as she stared at the huge hotel. A banner strung across the portico said, “Welcome Inktastic Convention!” She couldn’t help the flutter in her heart at seeing Hammer again but tried her damnedest to ignore it. It wouldn’t do any good.

She muscled her black suitcase from the back of the car and shut the trunk with a loud clang. The next four days would be interesting, that was for damn sure, she mused as she rolled her suitcase across the blacktop to the lobby. She and Hammer had barely spoken for the last two weeks. The longest conversation they’d had was when he’d shown up at Buzzard’s yesterday with directions to the hotel and check-in instructions.

“You’re sure you don’t want to back out?” he’d asked her seriously. She’d tried to ignore his defined shoulders as they’d shrugged. “The hotel is completely full and it’s going to be really close quarters in that room. With me for three days solid. If you aren’t comfortable, no hard feelings.”

“No. I promised you I’d help out and you’re right, this tattoo is gorgeous. It deserves to win the competition.” She’d stood as tall as she could, reinforcing her backbone with imaginary steel. She owed him. “I’ll be there.”

He’d nodded, not even giving her that lazy smile of his. He’d given her a slip of paper with the hotel name and printed directions. She’d taken it and stood silent, watching as he mounted his bike. He didn’t drive away until she did. She couldn’t help but think that meant he didn’t hate her for what she’d done.

You’re being an idiot. What guy would be mad at you for using him for sex?
The voice in the back of her brain wouldn’t shut up.

The glass doors whooshed open, admitting her to the spacious lobby. The truth was, it was more about what she’d done than his reaction. She’d been used way too much before and she couldn’t stand the thought of doing it to someone else. Especially Hammer.

“Welcome to the Plume Hotel and Conference Center.” The gray-haired woman smiled at her. “Checking in?”

“Yeah,” Quinn said, shoving the handle of her suitcase down and adjusting her huge purse. “The rooms are under Hamilton Dean?”

“Yes,” the woman said, her long nails clacking against the keyboard. “I see his room right here. He’s already checked in. May I see some ID?”

Quinn dug through her purse and liberated her wallet. The woman took her proffered driver’s license with a pleasant nod.

“Amanda, ah, Quinn is your middle name. Yes, Quinn LaBrea. Here is your key. Room 795.” She held out a plastic keycard along with Quinn’s ID.

“Room 795,” Quinn repeated as she took the two cards. “I’m sorry, but I thought you said room. There are two, right? Under Hamilton Dean’s name?”

More typing, and the woman shook her head, raising her brows at Quinn. “No ma’am, I see one room here under Hamilton Dean.”

Quinn’s stomach sank as if she’d just swallowed a barrel full of lead nuggets.
Close quarters.
His words bounced around in her skull. He’d been telling her then and she hadn’t fucking paid attention. “Oh no, that won’t work. I’m sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. I guess I’ll have to get my own room.”

The line was growing behind Quinn, and the woman’s expression became strained. “I’m sorry, but we have no vacancies for the weekend. With the convention, we’re completely booked.”

“Oh.” Quinn bit her lip. “Damn it. Okay.” Her palms grew sweaty as she gripped the keycard and her ID. “Room 795.”

“Yes. You have a nice stay.” The woman nodded and leaned to the side. “Yes sir, can I help you?”

Quinn was shocked the elevator could lift her to the seventh floor. Her feet were made of lead. She could barely keep upright, as anxious as she was. She wanted to be pissed at Hammer but she couldn’t. He’d given her every opportunity to back out of this weekend and she hadn’t. What a fucking idiot she’d been.

The wheels of her suitcase clack-clacked over the metal edge of the elevator on the seventh floor. Quinn blew a breath out, trying to slow her pulse before finding her way to Hammer’s room. It didn’t work. Her body remembered how good it felt to be near him. She’d have three nights of that temptation to live through.

She froze in front of the door marked 795. Three nights? Why hadn’t she asked the woman at the desk if it was a king room or a double? Why hadn’t she gotten in her car and hauled ass back home? And then the door swung open.

Why’d he have to be so goddamn gorgeous?

“Hi, Sparky. Glad you could make it.”

She swallowed. He leaned against the doorjamb, not quite smiling but his face was relaxed, pleasant.

“Hi. Do I have the right place?” She stood her suitcase upright, only to rake her bangs out of the way. They flopped back instantly.

“Yep,” he said, one corner of his mouth curling upward. “Home sweet home for the next few days. Here, let me get your suitcase.”

“That’s okay,” she protested, but he’d already picked up her bag as if it didn’t weigh anything, and he took it into the room.

She held her breath as she followed him inside, deathly afraid of the sleeping arrangements. When the two double beds met her gaze, she sighed aloud in relief.

“Everything all right?” He set her suitcase atop the luggage rack and turned at the sound of her sigh.

“Oh yeah, fine,” she said with a nervous nod. “No problem at all.”

He snorted in obvious disbelief. “Okay. Well, if you want to get settled, I need to go get the booth set up downstairs. I picked up the registration packet already. Your badge is on the dresser.”

She looked over to where he pointed. An ID badge lay atop a manila envelope.

“If you want to come check out the floor, we’re booth number sixty-five.”

She nodded, swallowing hard as he walked past her to get to the door. He smelled good, as if he’d just showered. Her eyes slid shut.

“And Sparky?”

Her lids flew open. “Yeah?”

He gave a positively evil grin. “I’m in the bed on the right. You can sleep wherever you want.”

The door shut with a clang and it took Quinn’s strength with it. She sank on the end of a bed. His words echoed in the empty hotel room.

Sleep wherever you want…

She knew exactly where she wanted to sleep. And it sure as hell wasn’t alone. Shaking her head, she crossed over to the suitcase he’d so thoughtfully placed for her. He was really going to have to stop being so damn wonderful if she was going to have a shot at coming out of this weekend unscathed. Fear that she stood in imminent danger of losing more than her head with Hammer refused to let her relax. Talented, gorgeous, considerate bastard.

Hammer’s tension eased as he left the hotel room. He hadn’t believed she’d actually show up. When she did, it had been all he could do to keep from kissing her. But her nervous expression had stopped him cold. He had to move slow. She was still spooked from what happened before.

Once the doors of the elevator closed, he allowed himself a victory sigh. He’d move slow but he’d be damned if he let an opportunity like this pass them by. As time went on, he was more and more sure he wanted to see more of Quinn. A whole lot more.

The elevator descended slowly, soft dings for each floor. The solitude left him time to think. About her, about him, then about the past, about Lora…

Thankfully, the doors opened. His brother’s mistake-turned-Hammer’s-burden wasn’t what he wanted on his mind this weekend. What happened with Lora was a long, long time ago. Quinn was here and now, and he had every intention of keeping his mind—and his body—firmly in the present.

The mindless job of unloading his gear from his Jeep numbed his memories and helped him focus on the here and now. The parking lot was filling rapidly, other artists and exhibitors competing for the same space to unload their own equipment. Nodding greetings to acquaintances and giving his signature half-smile to old friends, Hammer made his way to his assigned booth space.

The huge ballroom was marked off with typical convention aisles, pipes with black and white drapes cordoning off each individual booth. With a critical eye, Hammer scanned the layout of the room as he approached his booth. Traffic should flow to the right and that meant customers would be seeing his booth relatively early in their visit to the convention. Good news for someone who needed the exposure as desperately as Hammer did at this point in his career.

His black duffle made a dull thud as he dropped it on the table at the front of his booth. Leaving his tattoo kit beside it and propping the rolled-up sign against the draped-and-skirted table, he stepped back, crossing his arms as he examined his space and made his plan of attack.

Privacy screen there, portfolios with table up front. Sparky can sit there and greet people. I’ll put the big banner across the right side, canvas pieces on the left…

Something big caught Hammer in the small of his back. Stumbling in surprise, he righted himself then pivoted to see what the hell had knocked him.

A
Jersey Shore
wannabe apologized insincerely at him from behind a massive cart laden with large boxes. “Sorry man. Just passing through.” The overly tanned guy wore a bright green tank top, revealing a mixture of both good and bad ink on his arms. He wheeled his overloaded dolly down the aisle without a second glance.

Hammer let it go and got to work unpacking his gear and preparing his space. Some so-called “artists” had more balls than brains.

Several minutes later, he bent over, struggling to attach the banner he’d had specially printed for the convention to the stand.

“Do you want some help with that?” The soft feminine voice brought his attention around.

“Hey, Sparky,” he said, straightening. “I thought you were settling in.”

She shoved her hands in the pockets of her denim shorts and shrugged. “I promised to help you so here I am. I’ve got to work off a pretty epic tattoo.” She pointed a toe and flexed her leg muscles, making the newly healed phoenix catch the light.

Hammer nodded. “It is pretty damn epic. I won’t turn you down a second time. Lend me a hand with this sign.”

They worked well together, which didn’t surprise Hammer at all. But it was a chore to keep his mind on what he was doing. When she stood on a chair, reaching high to adjust the corner of his “Tattoo Hammer” sign, her shirt rode up, revealing the curve of her hip and that beautiful sun tattoo. The sight brought back memories of the first time he’d seen that ink, shadowed in a dim bedroom after some of the best sex he could remember. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and brushing her leg with his fingers.

“Steady there,” he said, increasing the pressure, moving his body closer to hers. When he looked up, she smiled. The sign was already straight but she stayed there anyway.

“Thanks,” she said, shifting her weight back to the balls of her feet. He steadied her with one hand on her hip, the other around her knee.

“What can I say? I’m a selfless and caring individual.” His grin spread at her genuine laughter.

“I’m not going to be able to get down if you don’t let go.” She crossed her arms and mock-scowled at him. He didn’t tell her that from his vantage point the expression was wasted. He only had eyes for the breasts defined so perfectly by her crossed arms.

“Is that a problem?” He let his palm trail down, following the curve of her ass.

She squeaked and whacked at his hand. “Do you mind? This isn’t exactly private.”

“I don’t see what the issue is,” he groused good-naturedly. With a regretful sigh, he lifted her by the legs, setting that pert bottom on his shoulder.

She grabbed hold of his head. “What are you doing? Put me down, put me down!”

“But you make such a great accessory,” he said, turning her this way and that as if modeling. Her laughs didn’t stop. The happy sounds wrapped all the way around him, giving his soul a lightness he hadn’t known was missing.

“I’m not your freaking accessory, you jerk. I mean it. Put me down now.” She tried her best to smother her giggles but she couldn’t stop them completely. She kicked her heels against him.

“Whoa there, easy. Fine,” he sighed and put her gently down in front of him. She loosed her grip but her hands ran down his neck to his shoulders as she faced him.

“Thanks,” she said. God, that wicked twinkle. It made his whole body throb to be near her.

“No problem.” He bent to her. He intended to keep it brief, only a brushing of the lips, but he didn’t miss her trembling in response. The fire he’d kept under careful control suddenly blazed up, heating his blood and stirring his lust.

What the hell was she doing to him?

The kiss deepened without his conscious effort, his tongue sliding into her willing mouth, plundering the planes of her tongue and soft lips. He drew her close, her pliant body melding effortlessly to his, as if she was wax and he was flame. Her ass was so soft as he cupped it, bringing her higher and tighter against him. His erection hardened at the press of her belly against him, at her willing response to his kisses. The memory of her silky skin was almost too damn much to take.

He reluctantly lifted his head. Her eyes were hazy. He framed her hips as he stepped back.