Two Wrongs Make a Right (14 page)

Not sure she’d heard him, she pulled back a little. “What?”

“You fiddled with my shirt button while we danced, and I struggled not to let this happen.”

He moved her palm south, and she gasped. He was big. Bigger than Brad. Damn, she wished she could tell him. The thought brought a smile to her lips, then she slid the zipper down and ran her hand inside. Molly had taken control again because Quinn would never be so bold with a stranger.

A low growl came from deep in his throat, and he released the first two Mother of Pearls on her shirt. Her breasts tightened and heaved in response. She removed her hand from his pants, hooked a thumb in a belt loop on each side, and pulled them down. Unable to stop herself, she stepped back and eyed him. “Nice.”

That got a laugh from him, and her face went hot. “I’m sorry.” What was she thinking? Her cheeks flamed, and she leaned her head against his chest.

He tipped her chin up and smiled down at her. “Don’t apologize. I appreciate the compliment.”

She squeezed her eyes tight. That must have come from Molly, because Quinn had never praised a man’s penis in her life.

Dak continued with her blouse until it gaped open. He stooped, and pressed his lips in the valley of lace, and Quinn whimpered. She didn’t wait for his next move, she reached around, unhooked her bra, and let it fall loose.

Taking full advantage, he moved a few inches back and slid the straps down her arms, cupped her breasts, and covered one peaked nipple with his mouth.

The slow pull of his lips sent Quinn close to the edge. She must have lost consciousness for a few seconds because now her skirt was on the floor and her panties were down to her thighs. His proficiency amazed her.

She stepped out of her shoes and let the bikinis fall to the carpet, thankful she’d bought new underwear. Now it was his turn to lean away and take a look. She ducked her head, but he lifted her face again. “You’re beautiful.”

She lowered her head. “Not really, but thanks.”

“Hey, look at me.”

The sincerity in his voice made her want to cry. She’d thought she could go through with this, but she couldn’t. She’d not expected to like him so much. He probably had a condom, and she’d let him use it. Tomorrow they’d go their separate ways, and he’d never know what a horrible person she was.

“Didn’t what’s-his-name ever tell you how beautiful you are?”

Unmanageable Molly must have sensed Quinn’s discomfort because she took over with her crazy act again. “You don’t have to say that. Cleary, we’re going to—you know.”

He placed his hand to her mouth. “Your clothes are on the floor and my pants are around my ankles, so yeah, we are, but that’s not why I said it.”

No, she couldn’t use him. She’d live with the lies she’d already told, but there would be no attempt to make a baby with him.

He toed out of his boots, kicked his jeans off, then picked them up and removed his wallet.

Even in the pale light, she saw him grimace.

He stepped back. “Shit. I don’t have a condom.”

“What?”

He inhaled a quick breath. “I don’t usually hook up with women in bars.”

Her mind raced. Okay. She’d use hers. All she had to do was take one from the bottom of the box and it’d be fine. “I have one.” She nodded toward her suitcase.

“I’ll get it,” he said, already moving toward the bag. “Where is it?”

Quinn swallowed hard and her heart slammed against her ribs. No turning back now. “Side pocket.”

He opened the box, dumped the contents on top of the clothes, and picked up a foil square.

Her head spun.
Three bad. Nine good. What percent is that? Three will go into twelve four times. Twenty-five percent. Only a twenty-five percent chance he got a faulty condom. Not great odds. But not terrible. Oh God.

He placed it between his teeth and ripped it open, removed the contents and rolled it on.

Clasping Quinn’s hand, he tugged her toward the bed. She threw back the covers and slid across the sheet. Dak crawled in, pulled her close, and kissed her again, then ran his hand between her legs and stroked her.

Statistics said she had a twenty-five percent chance of getting pregnant with a first try.
Twenty-five percent. Twenty-five percent. Oh crap, that feels good.

She shivered at his touch, and a knot formed in her chest. She liked him more than any man she’d met in a long time. He brought out something in her. Desire. Carnal feelings buried long ago and replaced with compromise. She’d given up passion for a chance at security.

He rolled on top of her, and his erection pressed against her thighs.

She should stop him. She placed her hand on his chest and gave a slight push. “Wait.”

He lifted above her. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked, and tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. “I can’t do this. You’re a nice man. A really nice man, and I like you. It’s wrong to use you this way.”

He rolled to his side, propped on an elbow, and wiped her tears with his thumb. “I get it. The lawyer dude did you wrong, and this is a grudge fuck. I’m all right with it.” He leaned in and kissed her. Not one of passion, but understanding. “Let me help you forget that guy even if it’s just for tonight.” Then he kissed her again, this time with so much heat, she couldn’t think straight.
If she deducted the twenty-five percent chance with the condoms from twenty-five percent odds she had with a first time that left zero percent. Great odds.

Maybe that wasn’t exact math. Hell, maybe it wasn’t math at all. At this point she didn’t know. He pulled her on top to straddle him, and turned up the heat by licking one nipple, then the other.
Math was overrated
. He slid hard into her.
He could have slow swimmers
.

Clinging to him, he rocked her. She leaned forward and kissed him, her lips so hot she thought they might scorch. He clutched her hips and maneuvered her until the friction caused every nerve in her body to catch fire.

He pulled his lips away. “Forgotten him yet?”

Heaving for breath, a slow burn started deep in her belly and raced downward. “Who?”

He whispered a laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Her vision blurred, and the pressure found its destination. She shuddered with sweet release and he came into her. She fell forward onto his chest and struggled for air.

Trailing his fingers up and down her spine, she wanted him again. What was happening to her? Molded together, she should push herself off, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry, and he felt so good beneath her she wished to stay that way forever. She ran her tongue across his lips and he moaned. When she moved to his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbed against the kiss. She rocked against him and to her amazement he swelled inside her again.

“Oh, baby.” His words strained.

He might be in pain, but Molly didn’t give a damn. She thrust easy at first, then harder.

He cupped her hips and brought her tighter. Deeper. And when another orgasm released, her body convulsed, and she didn’t recognize the sound that shrieked from her mouth. He didn’t ejaculate or climax, and she didn’t care. At least Molly didn’t. Two orgasms. Back to back. That had never happened before. Ever.

This time she was almost too weak to move. She should be ashamed. She’d practically raped the man. What now? Should she thank him for the extra effort? Apologize for forcing him into sex again?

“Damn. You went from almost backing out to overkill.”

She raised up and stared at him. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “I did. Twice.” Then he broke into a full laugh shaking the bed so hard, she bounced off him.

“You must think I’m some kind of nympho, and I’m not. I’m so opposite of that. Usually.”

“I’m not complaining.” He removed the condom and dropped it in the waste basket by the bed.

She started to say something else, but he beat her to it. “Can I stay?”

She faced him. “Really?”

“Yeah. And not because you just tried to kill me. I like you, too.”

Her heart pounded in her ears.
He wants to stay
. Although his request made her happy, it also caused guilt to rise again. He was the sweetest, kindest, sexiest man she’d ever met, and he liked her. She didn’t want him to leave. “Okay.”

He looped his arm around her neck and pulled her close. They lay there for a long time without speaking, and she thought he’d gone to sleep, but when she moved, he pulled her tighter.

“I’m going to jump in the shower,” she said.

He propped an arm behind his head. “That means I have to let you go?”

“Afraid so.”

She went to her suitcase, shoved the condoms back into the box, got the other items she needed, and stepped into the bathroom. Once inside, she shuffled through the foil packages.
Shit
. So much for twenty-five percent. Two compromised packets remained. He’d used a faulty one. She dropped them into the trash can and covered them with wadded toilet paper. Her stomach churned. She sat down on the commode, put her face in her hands and cried.

Kneeling by the tub, she turned the spigot, then stepped in and let the warm water rush across her skin. She needed something to wash the guilt away. Why did he have to be so wonderful? Why did he have to be so damn good in bed? Why couldn’t he have been a jerk?

Thirty minutes later, after drying her hair, she walked to the edge of the bed, and from his expression, the black lace gown had been a good investment.

He ran his fingers along the plunging neckline. “Is this new?”

“Yes.”

“Pretty.” He scooted over for her to crawl in next to him and when she did, he gathered her in his arms. “God, you feel good.”

She released a long breath against his neck. “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

“I was hoping for a manlier compliment.”

She giggled. “You’re also the sexiest. Is that better?”

He pinched her butt. “Way better.” He kissed the top of her head. “Good-night, Molly.”

“Can I sleep close to you?”

“What?”

“Some people don’t like to be touched when they sleep, so I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Baby, I don’t care if you sleep on top of me.”

Curling into him, her brain and heart went to battle. She prayed she’d not gotten pregnant, but yet, couldn’t imagine having a baby with anyone more wonderful than Dak Savage.

The next morning when Dak woke, Molly had her eyes locked on him as if trying to stare him awake. He stretched, then yawned. “What are you doing?”

“Memorizing your face.”

He couldn’t remember when he’d had a better night’s sleep with a woman curled warm in his arms. His heart was in trouble. Molly Harper affected him in ways he’d never dealt with.

“Why?”

She traced a finger across his lips. “Because next week when I’m back home and fantasizing about you, I want to see your face as clearly as I do right now.”

He kissed her finger. “So I’ll be in your fantasies?”

“More than you know.”

There was sadness in her voice, and that made him sad too. Maybe it was the thought of never seeing her again or the chance he might never find another woman who made him perform the way he had last night. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“You said you had to leave tomorrow, but it’s a long weekend, so stay until Monday. Come home with me.”

She sat up, crossed her legs Indian style, and adjusted the neckline of her gown. His heart kicked up a notch. Even her modesty turned him on.

Her big brown eyes got bigger. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’ll throw something on the grill. There’s a small lake behind my place. We can go fishing.”

Her expression told him she was considering it, and he needed to close the deal, because he wasn’t ready to let her go. He wanted more of her laughter, shyness, even her crazy rants. He wanted to experience the eagerness in her touch and hear the satisfaction in her moans. But most of all, he craved that jump in his pulse. Pushing her back on the bed, he kissed her and then whispered, “Let me see if I can convince you.”

He trailed his lips to her throat, chest, belly, and continued south. When he crossed the border into new territory, she whimpered encouragement, and he did not disappoint. It only took him a few tongue strokes to bring her to climax, which reinforced his earlier judgment. Her ex neglected her. Dak wouldn’t make that mistake. He kissed his way back up to her mouth.

Hands pressed to her cheeks, eyes closed, she drew a staggering breath. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

That made him laugh out loud. “Now how sweet am I?”

She tugged a lock of his hair. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not. I’m filing that as my secret weapon to use when I want you to agree to something.”

She pulled the sheet over her face.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d said or done anything to embarrass a woman. Damn. Molly made all the blonde, blue-eyed, Shelly’s a waste of his time. He pulled her hands away. “Didn’t your ex ever go down on you?”

This time she jerked the sheet over her head. “Oh my God! I can’t believe you asked me that!”

Laughing harder and louder, he tried to pull the sheet away again, but she turned and burrowed into her pillow. “I’m sorry. It’s just you came so fast. I’m trying to decide what kind of fool wouldn’t work to keep you happy.”

She sat up straight, but didn’t say anything.

Maybe this wasn’t a grudge fuck. This was Molly wanting to be treated the way she deserved, and she’d grown tired of a jerk who didn’t have a clue how to please her. Not once had she badmouthed him. Most women loved talking trash about their exes, but not her. She was too classy for that. Man, he kept finding new things to like. “You want me to
go down
and get us something from the breakfast bar, or drive through a fast food place and eat on the way.”

She hit him with a pillow. “You are terrible.”

He laughed again and pulled her into his arms. “I couldn’t resist. Sorry. I’ll stop. I promise.”

“Since we’ll be traveling in separate cars, let’s do the breakfast bar.”