Gemini Page 9

  The fact was, he’d wanted her from the start. Before he knew whose sister she was or who and what she was running from. And though he’d known what he should do, when he learned her circumstances, he couldn’t undo the wanting of her. So he’d taken part in that gangbang and he’d fallen in with the devil’s bargain the three men had made over beers.

  He wanted her. He was going to take what he could get of her. If his buddies felt the same way, well, they’d get it sorted out eventually.

  Watching the door was apparently a strategic error. He figured that out when he saw Jace’s interest turn down the length of the bar and moved his own attention there.

  Gemini was pouring a Stella for one of her regulars. She’d fucking gotten by him.

  Clay must have brought her in the back and then made himself scarce. Probably a decent strategic move on his part.

  Gem looked sweet and fresh. She wore a short swing skirt and a little top that was one of her usual work outfits. It was innocent and sexy, both, and worked with the kind of best friend’s little sister, hot-but-off-limits demeanor she portrayed behind the bar. It seemed to work for her with the patrons, if not the owner and his buddies.

  She didn’t look like she’d spent the afternoon getting the hell fucked out of her.

  But Quinn knew Clay, and knew that was exactly what had happened.

  So he ignored the couple of empties that had been pushed to the edge of the bar, that universal signal for a refill, and walked down the length of the bar.

  Not to say, stalked.

  He was sure she felt him at her side for a couple minutes before she turned and met his gaze. She finished the second draft she’d been building and exchanged a few words with the customer. He was a jet-jockey, apparently, and had just aced his flight test. So the fuck what?

  But when her attention was done with him, it was all on Quinn. She turned to face him, close enough that she had to significantly tilt her head, looking up at him. She was all the way there, and it felt like they were in their own little bubble. Honest to God, he couldn’t see or hear anything but her.

  “Hi, Quinn,” she said.

  “Gem.” He took her hand, a move that was hidden from most, just a loose clasp where their bodies nearly touched. “You okay?”

  She smiled. “Of course I am.”

  Her eyes were warm, like they always were when she looked at him. Open, like he could see into her heart. And he fucking fell into them, like he always did.

  “Did—”

  Her eyes didn’t change. Didn’t harden, like a woman who had something to hide, who was playing one man against another. He almost hoped for a split second that he had it wrong. But—

  “Yes.”

  He looked at her some more, surprisingly warm, loving feelings in his heart, despite what she’d just admitted. And giving him back those same feelings, despite…

  Going with his heart, he curled his free hand into her hair at the back of her neck. Then he leaned in and took her mouth in a soft kiss. There, behind the bar, like there weren’t a couple dozen interested gazes on them.

  He didn’t take it deep, but he took it long.

  And she accepted it. Her lips were warm and sweet and welcoming. He moved over them with just the slightest friction and felt her secure her place in his heart. When he lifted, still close, still looking at her, she smiled.

  Damned if he didn’t love her. She’d just gotten done banging one of his best friends, and he loved her.

  He was pretty sure she knew it, too. She let him have that gentle smile, then tilted her head toward the bar. They had work to do. He had empties waiting for him, and she had her drinkin’ fans.

  They worked steadily to closing. Flyboy and his buddies got a little rowdy and rocked the juke box, but they had a DD who kept them mostly in line. The tables were busy and his two Saturday night girls were pretty happy with the tips they were pulling in.

  Gemini worked her end of the bar and helped keep up with the tables. But when she’d gotten everyone happy with their first round, she walked down to face Jace. She kicked up onto a step stool and leaned over the bar to kiss him. It wasn’t the long, slow thing Quinn had gotten from her, but it seemed to pacify Jace. She leaned back after the smooch and looked at him. He looked back and after a while she nodded, and they both seemed satisfied.

  Jace watched the end of the Rockies’ double-header while he finished his second G and T. He nodded good-night to Quinn, then walked down the bar to get Gemini’s attention. He leaned over the bar and pulled her close so they could hear each other without yelling. They talked for quite a long minute, Gemini nodding her head a couple of times. Then they shared another kiss and Jace left.

  The flyboys wouldn’t give in until closing time. But the place slowed down in the last half hour. Quinn sat on his stool, leaning back against the bar, while Gemini served the last round to her little adoring posse. When she was done, she walked over, turned around, and leaned into him. He wrapped his arm around her, snugged her up to take a little of her weight, and savored the sweet feeling of it as she dropped her head onto his chest.

  He kissed her temple. “Tired?”

  “Yeah.”

  They both knew he wouldn’t send her up alone to the apartment, so they just rested there together until lights out. When they were finally locked up, he had his arm around her and gave her a little support as they climbed the stairs.

  “What did Jace want?” Quinn didn’t want to ask, but he wanted to know. So, when they got to the door to her room, he couldn’t keep the question behind his teeth. He had his hands clasped behind her back and she was resting against his chest again.

  “He wants me to come do some paperwork in his office on Monday,” she said. She paused, like maybe she wasn’t going to say the rest, but he knew there was more. “And then dinner together after.”

  Yeah, that was Jace’s M.O. There’d be a little wining and dining before he hit the sheets with her. Shit.

  Could he do this? But, yeah, he held her in his arms and knew he couldn’t do anything else. He couldn’t let her go, and he couldn’t keep her from his buddies.

  He sighed and gave over to it. He lowered his hands a bit and brought her closer. Close enough that she could feel the hard-on he’d been fighting for what felt like forever.

  “I want you, Gemini.”

  No shit, he figured she had to be thinking.

  * * * *

  No shit, she said inside her head. Gemini pressed a smile into Quinn’s chest. Her three men—and that was pretty much how she was beginning to think of them—had neither the sort of sexuality nor the, uh, build that would allow their interest in a woman to pass unnoticed.

  Quinn had promised her patience. Until she was ready, he’d said.

  Well, given her activities of the afternoon, she could hardly claim that she was too emotionally fragile for a little hot sex. That ship had more than sailed.

  But this was another boat in the water, and she wasn’t certain what she was doing contemplating stepping on board.

  Okay, so she’d gone crazy and fucked three wildly attractive men who were strangers in one night. She supposed the stranger thing didn’t matter so much. It probably wouldn’t have been any better if she’d known them all.

  She’d spent ten days now trying to process that event, and the best she could come up with was, well, the crazy had just gotten to her. Almost, she could put it away, just chalk it up to the temporary insanity that was the culmination of years of falling under Bryce’s control and her scary, exhausting flight.

  This would be different. This desire—this yearning—to say yes, to slide her hand up Quinn’s hard chest, to stroke his neck, to finger his hair. She wasn’t crazy now. She couldn’t and wouldn’t want to claim it.

  But she couldn’t deny the desire, either. She wanted Quinn. He was sweet and caring. He was strong and sexy. She longed to fall into his arms, into the love that she was pretty sure he felt for her. That she was pretty sure she felt for h
im.

  If she fell, he would catch her. She was certain of it.

  And it was beyond her to say no to it.

  Like her hand belonged to someone else, she watched it move up the hard planes of his chest. She looked up into his face as her fingers reached the hot skin of his neck.

  Those green eyes were heated, sparking as he read what was in hers.

  “I want you, too, Quinn.”

  He tilted his head just a little, looking into her eyes. “Now?” he asked, his voice a rough breath.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Thank you, Jesus,” he breathed. Then he lifted her, pulling her hard against his big chest, and turned. “My bed’s bigger.”

  He was right about that. She’d only glanced into his bedroom up until now. The room was larger than hers and to the back, so the sliding doors there opened out onto his deck. The furniture was sleek, dark wood. The bed was a small island wrapped in cool green and another Hudson Bay blanket. He took her there and, bracing himself on one knee, laid her crossways in the middle of it. Looking down at her, he slid his hands down each of her legs until he reached her shoes. He slipped them off with a slow caress of her feet and dropped them carelessly to the floor. Then he gripped his T-shirt—The Cody Johnson Band, this time—in the middle of his back and tore it over his head. It followed her shoes to the floor, and she got a look at another hard-muscled chest.

  He was all rippled planes and smooth, tanned skin. She could see the movement of his breaths—the lift of his hard pecs, the descent of his abs. It took a long moment for her to realize he was waiting for her gaze to meet his.

  Maybe he was giving her one more opportunity to come to her senses, but if he was, she missed her chance. Their gazes clashed for just a moment, and then he came to her. He held his weight on his knees and the one elbow he’d planted at her shoulder. He used that hand to curl into her hair, taking a grip on her. He held himself over her, close enough that they touched when their breaths synchronized. Then he used his free hand to explore.

  He started by cupping her face, running his thumb along her cheek to her mouth. He rubbed her lips roughly and then followed with his own mouth. His kiss was hot and deep. His tongue thrust into her, taking her as she knew he would take her body. He kept at it for a long time, until she quivered in need of more.

  Lifting up, he watched her eyes as he ran his hand along her body, down her neck to her shoulder, where he massaged and then rubbed his thumb under the edge of her blouse to touch skin. And then to her breast. He palmed her, the heat of him burning through the lightly lined voile of her blouse and the lace of her bra. Her nipple tightened as he waited, and his interest was intense as he watched the reaction in her eyes when he grasped it and squeezed. He rolled it between thumb and finger like he was working a dial.

  Gemini moaned and he gave her more, his grasp hard, tugging her breast up along with it.

  “You like that,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me,” he told her. “I like a talker.”

  She smiled, willing to indulge. “I like your hand on my breast. I like it when you tug—”

  He matched action to her words and she arched, giving herself over to sensation.

  “Open your blouse.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  She’d changed clothes after Clay had brought her home. She’d opened her lingerie drawer and fingered the silks and lace there. The exquisite, pricey garments Bryce had purchased for her had once made her feel cheap, used. But she’d chosen a satin and lace demi-bra with matching undies in soft pink, and when she’d put them on, she’d felt wickedly sexy. She’d even studied herself in the mirror on the back of her door, for the first time truly appreciating the womanly curves of her body.

  That had been all Clay. Well, not all Clay, because she’d felt the eyes of all three men on her body. But there was nothing like an afternoon of wildly erotic sex in the arms of a formidable, hungering man to lead a woman to reassess her powers. Clay had made plain his attraction, his mighty desire for her, with both words and action. She’d come away with a new awareness of herself.

  And, apparently, a willingness to apply it.

  She savored the heat in Quinn’s eyes as she moved her fingers to the buttons of her blouse—enough that she toyed with the first one, like she waited for his full attention, like it was possible she didn’t have it. He shot her a dark look once she’d kept him waiting long enough, and she had to work to suppress her smile. “This, you mean?”

  “Babe,” he said, in a warning tone, and her smile couldn’t be contained.

  Opening the first button, she let her breasts rise with a deep breath. The movement separated the sides of her blouse, baring the top rises of her breasts.

  Quinn liked it. She saw his nostrils flare, felt the heat of his breath.

  “You make me feel hot, just by looking at me.”

  With a grunt of approval, he lowered himself a little, pushing her legs further open and nestling between. His hip pressed into her thigh. He had a grip on her ribs, just below her left breast, and she felt his fingers spasm there.

  “Keep going.” He said it on a curse, and she reveled in her power.

  Slowly she unfastened the next button, and the next. Each time, her breaths and the tension in her breasts opened the blouse further.

  He dropped his head, nuzzling into her skin in the center of her chest. Then he moved to one side, his breath hot on the upper swell of her breast.

  The demi-bra covered her nipple and areola, but only just. She felt his lips there, pressing against her, and the brush of his breath.

  “Touch me with your tongue.”

  Gemini could feel the smile of his lips against her skin. In another moment, he licked a hot path directly to her nipple. Circling her and strumming with his tongue, he had her gasping for a breath. Moving to the other side, he slid in, took hold, and sucked hard.

  She moaned and rocked, seeking more stimulation at her pelvis than he was allowing her. He held her firmly with his hip at her thigh, keeping from her that contact she craved.

  He drew hard on her nipple, then let go with a rough tweak. He lifted his head and looked at her. “Tell me what you need. Use words.”

  “Touch me. Touch me. I need, I need…”

  While she babbled, he slid her blouse down her shoulder and tugged at her bra until he’d bared her left breast. He palmed her, rolling her hard nipple, chafing her with the heat of his touch.

  “Where do you need me to touch you? Say it.”

  Gemini was sure she couldn’t do that. “Quinn.”

  He kissed her, a deep taking. He held his mouth against hers as he stroked his hand roughly down her body, making her feel every inch of his progress. He reached her thigh and brushed her skirt up out of his way. With the lightest of touches, his thumb hovered at her…

  “This is your clit. Do you want me to touch it? Stroke it? Do you need me to make you come?”

  “Yes.” But she knew that wouldn’t satisfy him.

  “Tell me.”

  He hovered over her—his thumb at her clit and his face over hers. His eyes were dark on hers, his breath rough.

  “Quinn,” she said. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a moment. Then, on a breath, she opened them and gazed into that deep green. “Touch my clit. I need to come. Touch me. Dammit.”

  That last came when he finally made contact, a soft, feathery stroke. It was too much and not enough all at once. Circling, his thumb slid over smooth satin.

  “Oh, God.” Gemini arched, her whole body tensing. She raised her arms up over her head in abandon. “Quinn.”

  “What, baby?”

  “Suck my nipple.”

  “Yes.” He drew her in, hard suction that made itself felt in her core. She could feel his tongue stroking her.

  “Rub my clit. Faster. Harder.”

  His thumb thrummed over her, and her body quaked. “Yes. God, yes.”

  He came off her nipple r
oughly. Just barely, she felt his fingers slide under the elastic of her panties. “Do you want my fingers in your cunt?”

  “Yes.”

  She’d no sooner breathed the word than he was there, his large fingers pushing deep inside.

  “You’re wet.”

  “Yes.” She arched again, her body mindlessly asking for more. “You made me wet. For you.” She strained against his fingers. “I want—I need—”

  He waited, a silent prompting.

  “F–fuck me with them.”

  “Finger fuck you?”

  “Yes.” She rocked, trying to make it happen. “Finger fuck me. Hard, Quinn. Hurry.”

  He gave her what she wanted, hard thrusts into her pussy, making her stretch around those big fingers, going deep, rough. All the while he managed to keep his thumb on her clit, hard pressure now moving over slick, wet satin.

  “Oh yes. More. More. Take my nipple again.”

  His hot mouth covered her with hard pulls. He held on, sucking, fucking, rubbing her.

  “I’m going to come. I’m going to—”

  She went over, wildly uncontrolled, bucking so her nipple tugged against the pull of his mouth, her pussy rode down harder on his fingers, and her clit bumped itself against his thumb. “More, more,” she begged, directed. “Don’t stop. Harder. Don’t stop.”

  Then words were beyond her. She moaned, tossing her head in pleasure, shuddering out a prolonged, intense orgasm. “Quinn. Quinn.”

  He drove her higher, further, until it was too much, too far. “Oh. Oh.” She tried to still him, grasping his head with one hand and his wrist with the other.

  But he wasn’t done with her. He kept pushing her higher, harder, until her body convulsed in its last throes and her breath came out in a guttural wail. “Ah! Ah!”

  He stood down then, easing the suction on her nipple, giving a final, gentle stroke to her clit, and stilling his fingers inside her. But not removing them, no. Keeping his place there, so when she finally found her breath, finally calmed from that storm and opened her eyes to him, he still had a presence in her body. Still made clear his possession.