Gemini Page 10

  His gaze was hard, almost dispassionate. “You’re mine.”

  He pushed into her once, driving home his point.

  “Ow.”

  Unsympathetic, he lifted a brow and pushed again.

  “Yes,” she said, recognizing his intent. “I’m yours.”

  His hand curled into her hair tightened, holding her gaze to his. “I don’t care if you’re Clay’s and Jace’s, too. But you are fucking mine.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  Maybe it was a mistake, she thought. Maybe it was the worst kind of crazy, to fall into whatever kind of relationship she had with these men when she’d just barely managed to rescue herself from Bryce’s control. They were strong, powerful men, and—three, for God’s sake. Or two, in any case, but she was pretty sure she knew where things were going with Jace. On Monday.

  Really. What was she thinking?

  * * * *

  “Stop what you’re thinking right now.”

  Quinn could read what was going on in that pretty little head like a book.

  So, yeah, he’d let his inner caveman loose a bit. He was a man, a male animal, and he’d always accepted what that meant. Testosterone drove him, and it was for a reason. A biological reason.

  It was in his DNA. If he loved a woman—if he mated—then she was his. To own, to protect, to give his life for, if it came to it. Still, he was a civilized man, a grown-up adult. So all that didn’t mean he got full control over his mate. And it damn well didn’t mean he got to beat on her.

  It was nothing but offensive, her going down that path in her head he could see she was traveling. Well, offensive and, unfortunately, understandable.

  So he took his fingers out of her as gently as he could. Even then, he gave a little inner sigh of appreciation for that sweet, tight, wet, hot bit of heaven that was going to be wrapped around his cock in a very few short minutes.

  But he had reparations to make first. He kept his weight over her, in the way they’d ended up, him having to corral the wild bucking of her body so he could finish her off to his satisfaction.

  Pushing his mate to scream her head off with sexual satisfaction was another biological drive of the male of the species. At least, that was the way he read it.

  Gently, he stroked her cheek and, after a moment, he kissed her softly. Then he held himself over her, keeping up that touch on her cheek and the gentle hold in her hair. Those pretty brown eyes were soft and vulnerable. She gave her heart so easily, so freely. He could tell she already loved him, even if she didn’t know it yet.

  No wonder that ass Bryce had been able to get his nasty hooks into her. Good thing she was in better hands now.

  She loved him, Quinn. And he loved her back. So that was all okay.

  Something was going on between her and Clay, and something would get started between her and Jace, and he found that was all okay, too. She could be his, and still be theirs, apparently. He’d have never figured on a thing like that, but it didn’t bother him in the least that it was happening. He’d like to think that whatever took place between her and Jace and Clay would just wear itself out, and she’d end up with him. But he was dead certain that the other two were thinking the same, so he was going to stop going there. Somehow, they’d find a way to all be happy with her, with…a share of her.

  That was it. They could share her. Just the same as they’d shared a whole lot in their lives since they’d become…more than friends. Brothers.

  He could get lost in those eyes, but he didn’t want to forget what he needed to say. What she needed to hear.

  “I love you, Gemini Walker.” That other last name was as good as gone, and there was no way he was going to use it. “I’m going to trust that you know the kind of man I am.”

  He brushed his thumb over her lips, keeping her silent. “I’m not going to hold back when we’re in the sack. I’m going to consider it my job—my solemn duty—to fuck you wild. You’re in my hands, then. I own you.

  “That won’t apply to all aspects of our relationship. I’ll always reserve the right to protect you, but I don’t control you. You’re a strong woman, smart and capable. I respect that. I always will. And I will never hurt you, physically.”

  He could see the lift of her brow, and remembered her saying, “ow,” just a few minutes ago. He lifted his own brow in response and waited until he could see her relent. That was different. That was sex. He nodded when he could see she got his point.

  “We okay, then?”

  He lifted this thumb from her lips when she nodded.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Except for that part where you said you love me.”

  “You don’t have to say it back. Not until you’re ready.”

  She stroked his face, her fingers a soothing, beguiling touch. “I love you, Quinn Cavanaugh.”

  He was certain his gaze smoldered. She should have caught fire, instead of just looking back at him with that calm, expectant gaze.

  He’d give her what she was expecting. He was sure it hadn’t escaped her notice that only one of them had screamed her head off.

  Keeping his eyes on her, he lifted back. Crouching between her legs, he savored the look of his woman well-pleased. Her face was soft, her expression loving. One breast was still bare where her blouse had fallen open and he’d tugged her pretty bra down. He could see the effects of the way he’d sucked at her—her nipple was still red and distended. He saw the love bite at her neck he didn’t think he’d put there, and liked the one better at her breast, which he knew he had.

  Her legs were open, that bit of heaven just barely covered by the little excuse for panties she wore. They were nothing but a wisp of pink satin and lace, and damp, and he totally approved—of that last, especially. Her little landing strip, a bit darker blond than her head, was just visible behind the lace.

  His dick had been hard for a long time, and it throbbed now to remind him of that fact. He kept his knees spread, opening hers even more as he leaned over her. He got a scent of her—that sweet fragrance of desire—and his dick made a valiant effort to push right through his fly. He put his fingers at her waist and finished the job on her blouse she hadn’t quite gotten done. When the last couple buttons were loose, he went for the front fastening of her bra. Then he opened it and got a look at both bare tits. It was like the best Christmas present ever.

  She was firm and upthrust, of a size to more than fill a man’s hands. Her areolas were small and dark, her nipples puckered up into good-sized raspberries. His favorite.

  He put out a hand for hers, and he pulled her up so she could wiggle out of blouse and bra. She had really decent abs, with enough muscle to not need much help. When she lay back, he followed the convex curve down to the low sling of her skirt, and imagined her belly all toned and ripe with pregnancy.

  It was a surprisingly seductive notion.

  Not to be distracted, he covered both her breasts with his hands. He massaged then gave both nipples a tweak before he slid his hands down her sides to her skirt. He found the side zipper and worked it down, then waited for her to lift her hips.

  Then he had her in nothing but those pretty pink panties. His appreciation must have been showing, because she made a little effort to close her legs. Fat fucking chance.

  He hooked a finger into the front of them and ran it back and forth, bringing it a little lower. “Did Bryce buy your underwear for you?”

  He had to look up to see her silent nod.

  “I’m not going to hold that against them. The idjit was bound to get something right. You burn them if you want to, but let me know where he shopped.” Quinn wasn’t worried, in any case. He had a wicked strong urge to tear them off her, so she’d likely have a high turnover of those little pieces of silk.

  He put two fingers in now and tugged down, baring first that landing strip, then those girl parts he really loved. He dug in a little, stroking down until he could feel her wetness against the back of his fingers.

  “Mmm.” His cock had had abou
t all it could take. Abruptly, he pulled the thin band of lace from under her ass, and the little ripping sound might or might not have indicated terminal damage. He backed off the bed so he could get them down her legs.

  And so he could finish getting naked himself.

  He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and made a little room for himself as he toed off his shoes. His fingers just happened to come to rest over his thrusting cock, and Gem seemed mesmerized by what was happening there. He fondled himself a little and then slowly, her gaze following every move, unbuttoned and unzipped.

  He had to lift the elastic of his briefs up and over to set himself free. He let that happen, let just the top of him peek out of his jeans and underwear for a bit, to let her slowly adjust to what she had coming. Then he slid everything down and stood before her in his blazing glory. Not to put too fine a point on it.

  Holding himself, slightly stroking, he watched her reflexive move to close her legs. He sympathized—she had a tight little pussy, and it only made sense to be afraid.

  But it was going to happen, and they both knew it.

  “Open your legs, Gemini.” It was kind of a growl, but damned if he could hold his caveman back. He thrust one knee up onto the bed and then the other, and it was that more than her own volition that had her thighs suddenly spread.

  He got more of that scent of her and he went fucking feral.

  Shoving himself further up, he got his knees under her thighs, almost under her ass. He lifted her up off the bed and wrapped his arms around to secure her. Then, watching her face to the last minute, he brought her pussy to his mouth. He sucked on her clit, drawing it into his mouth, then tonguing it until she moaned. Distracted, drawn by the taste of her, he moved to give her a good tongue-fucking.

  But this moment was all about his cock in her pussy. So he just wet her as much as he could with one last stroke and then lifted up.

  Her thighs were spread, her knees dangling, and she just got her toes to the bed to support a little of her weight. But mostly he had her, holding her hips suspended at just the right level.

  He had to watch. He’d have loved to see her face, but he was fucking compelled to watch his cock sink into her.

  He had to tuck back a little to center himself at her opening. Like a homing missile, his cock found just the right spot. Shuddering out a breath, he arched and started to fill her.

  Just a quick glance at her face told him she was as aware of the moment as he was, of its significance. In the most basic of ways, he was about to have her. To own her. Possess.

  It was freak-all, bone-deep, primitive taking.

  He watched as he pushed in, making way at her opening until she was distended around his big cockhead. Distantly, he heard her moan, knew that she was feeling every millimeter of stretch. Her fingers convulsed, grasping his where he held her hips.

  He waited through several of her unsteady breaths until he felt her ease. Then he pushed in, inch by big, thick inch, until he had her filled. He lifted his gaze to hers again as he rutted against her once to gain that last bit of depth.

  Her eyes were wild, her breath rasping. Her fingers clutched at his.

  “I have you,” he said, and it was a fucking glory.

  “Yes,” she answered. “You’re inside me.”

  “Nothing has ever felt this good.” It was the fucking truth. She was hot and wet and clasped around him like soft velvet, a fit as though she was made just for him. A miracle of anatomy that her tight pussy could feel so just fucking right. He was pretty sure all he would have to do to come was sit there, holding his place, and let it happen.

  “You’re so big. You fill me so full.”

  “Fuck, yeah.”

  She almost smiled. But even that breath she huffed out caused enough movement that they both felt it. A shock of stimulation ran through him, and he knew he was about to lose it.

  “I have to fuck you now, babe.”

  The little bitch squeezed him, like a taunt, and he rolled his head. “You can’t mean that.”

  Maybe she did, or maybe she didn’t, but it was beyond him to tell, to care. With a growl, he arched back, lifting her up by the way he had her impaled. Then, with feral grunts, he lit into her. Blazing with it, he fucked her.

  For a few thrusts, he watched. Watched the wicked nasty of it as his cock tore into her. How the breadth of him pulled at her, how the length of him drew at her lips and her clit. How she accommodated every fucking inch of him, beyond every reasonable expectation. Then he looked at her—his hard grip leaving fingerprints on her hips, his powerful thrusts jiggling her beautiful tits. And her face. Her eyes meeting his, then losing focus as he fucked her, as he drove pleasure into her.

  He couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t have stopped for an earthquake or tornado or if hell itself had opened up. He was gone with it, thrusting mindlessly, not stopping when he heard her come, not even slowing. He just looked at her, glaring, until he drove her up again. Until her next cries might have contained pain as well as pleasure, when she started shuddering again and the spasms of her cunt took him with her.

  He fell over her, his face buried beside her head, his mouth drawing in the skin of her shoulder, his body flailing, fucking into her. He used his hands on her—her tits, her clit, her ass. He couldn’t stop until his orgasm exploded, until every muscle clenched and quaked and he spurt hard blasts of cum into her. His lasts thrusts were slippery, then, burning hot.

  He shivered the last of it out, quivering, shuddering. “Baby,” he moaned, somehow reaching for her, grasping like she was his one point of reference on the earth, his one grounding connection to sanity. “Gem.”

  Her own breaths were groans of pain-pleasure, her own body rent and collapsed, sapped of strength. But she lifted her hands to cradle his head, to hold him against her.

  “Gem,” he said again.

  “Yes,” she said. “Quinn. Yes.”

  Chapter Four

  Quinn’s room was bright with morning light when Gemini woke. She wasn’t sure even then she’d woken of her own volition, but was content enough finding herself wrapped in strong arms, with warm hands gently stroking. The second she let out a soft sigh, those hands grasped her and lifted.

  Before she even got her eyes all the way open, she was lying with Quinn under her. And in her.

  He seemed satisfied with that, though. He had her draped along his length, his arms loosely gliding over her body, his cock doing nothing more than holding its place inside her, staking his claim.

  They dozed that way while sunlight creeping through the south windows warmed them, lazy, connected. After a long while the inevitable happened. She could feel Quinn’s cock stirring inside her, pulsing along with the heartbeat she felt and heard with her head on his chest. And then his hands moved over her with more deliberation, pressing her hips, squeezing her ass to steady her against his easy thrusts.

  He nudged at her temple and lifted his head until their lips met. Touching there, too, their mouths gently mating, their breath shared, they made love. It was slow and tender and melted Gemini’s heart.

  After long minutes of it, their need became urgent. Quinn held her more roughly, arching off the bed to fuck hard into her. Gemini flexed, wrapping herself tightly around him, groaning each time she received his strong thrust. They clutched each other harder as he drove them up, and cried out together as he took them over.

  They spent long moments recovering, sharing soft kisses, losing themselves in each other’s eyes. Finally, he quirked a smile about the same time she felt him stir inside her again. He slapped her ass.

  “Either we get out of bed now,” he said, “or we’re here until I have to get up and open the bar. Which is it going to be?”

  They chose breakfast. Then Quinn loaded two mountain bikes onto the rack on the back of his car, and drove them out to Red Rock Canyon for a spectacular ride. They took a water break in the deep shade of a massive rock formation, and Gemini leaned into Quinn’s shoulder.

/>   “That bike I’m riding is new, isn’t it?” She’d wondered, initially, why he happened to have a spare bike that fit her so well. She’d spent a little moment thinking about what woman might have ridden it before her, until she realized it was brand new.

  He kept his gaze focused out on the remarkable view. “I didn’t figure you brought one with you from Sacramento.”

  She smiled, content in the extreme. “You bought it for me.”

  He handed her his canteen, meeting her gaze. “Yeah.”

  “That’s very sweet. Thank you.”

  His lips quirked and his green eyes ran down her body. “There’re some perks in it for me. You ever check out your ass from behind, when you’re on a mountain bike?”

  No, but she’d checked out his. “I thought you were just being polite, letting me go first.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a full out grin. “That’s right.”

  She knew that for the lie it was, and it didn’t keep her from enjoying that extra bit of pleasure as they finished the ride, knowing where his attention was as he rode behind her.

  They stopped for salads at Alice’s in the Fine Arts Center and then went home to clean up for work.

  Mach One was quiet on a Sunday afternoon and didn’t really require both of them behind the bar. Folks came in small groups for a late lunch or to sit and watch the baseball game. None of them were big drinkers on a Sunday afternoon.

  After she’d straightened and cleaned behind the bar, all the busywork she could find, she approached Quinn. “I can handle the bar,” she said. “Do you want to take a break?”

  “No, babe,” he said. “You know we’re not leaving you alone.”

  She looked around the few patrons and felt guilty, certain that Quinn wouldn’t normally be paying a second bartender through these slow hours. “But this is silly, for both of us to be here. I’m not a child.”

  He gave her a look that let her know he’d heard her frustration, which made her feel mean-spirited and ungrateful. Then turned his back to her and walked to the other end of the bar. He took his phone out and made a call, and twenty minutes later Jace walked in.