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Though he was attracted to her, he hadn't let his wits drain all into his cock. Bad as Artie was, Quinn understood something was off about her. But, intriguingly enough, he gave off the vibe of a man who had the courage to find out if that was good or bad...and how he could help. Which meant she should be leaving tonight, not applying for a job. But she was just too damn hungry.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, lean-hipped. She'd been told he was a rodeo cowboy, a rancher, and the rugged face and intimidating physique were silent proof he was the real thing. His misery being in the midst of all these people was as clear to her enhanced senses as a man with a flu virus. She'd already seen enough to know his sloppy hiring practices and the state of the bar had to do with an overworked, exhausted owner too used to having to take care of others. If he had a blind spot, it was that he didn't know when he needed help.
There was a solid core to him like the stillness of a mountain. He didn't look at home here. She suspected if she saw him at his ranch, she'd see him where he was meant to be. She could help him with that.
She wanted to see him looking a little more relaxed. Almost as much as she wanted to see the flip side of that. Him bound and stripped, all those muscles straining against restraints she'd put on him, so she could bite, suck and lick every inch of skin, tease every scar with her nails, impale herself on that impressive cock straining beneath worn denim. She'd made it test the limits of those fibers more than once tonight. He thought his untucked shirt concealed it, but arousal was as detectable to her senses as blood.
Blood pulsing in his throat, beating strong through his heart in that wide chest. When she'd leaned close to him at the bar, her fangs had started to elongate. She wasn't one to deny herself long, not when it came to a human she wanted. A male like this.
His warm brown eyes were framed by dark lashes, and his sable hair tempted touch. When Maria had woken him, Selene had been watching from the kitchen access. She'd imagined waking him by stroking her fingers through that hair, tugging lightly. Once those eyes opened, she'd tighten her grip. Yank. Make fire spark in that gaze the way it had behind the bar when he decided not to obey her command to release her wrist. Yeah, he wanted a woman's strong hand, but he was all male animal. He'd want to fight over it. He was itching for that fight, and so was she.
When the meaning of her "third condition" sank in, she saw that spark again. His lips pressed together and he shifted on the chair, probably to give some relief to that erection that just wouldn't quit. You'll need my permission getting relief with that, baby, she thought. After I enjoy tormenting you a good, long time.
Her fingers curled in on themselves where they rested with deceptive ease on the chair arm and her thigh. His gaze kept returning to her crossed legs, the way she was resting on one hip, the closer one turned up enough his gaze could trace the curve of the buttock.
She rose. "Does the upstairs have a bed? One we can use right now to seal the deal?"
His gaze snapped up to her. While New York didn't have a lot of rodeos, she'd picked up enough stories tonight to know about eager-to-please buckle bunnies. He'd be making a grave error if he lumped her in with those. She wasn't flirting, simpering or giggling. She was more than an alpha bitch. She was going to be the alpha, period.
As that unspoken message registered, his expression said he was warring with uncomfortable feelings about it. He hadn't yet said yes, but this wasn't exactly a verbal kind of contract. Blood, sweat and some satisfying, sticky sex were going to be the signature on the dotted line. She was all too aware his unease was coming primarily from how she was turning him on. It was part of what she'd sensed, what had attracted her to him. This was a man who'd been required to be in control in all ways from the time he'd reached sexual maturity. His true power, all that delicious strength and sexual drive, would come to glorious, raging life with a different tactic.
"As I said earlier," she said, "I'm not in the habit of repeating myself."
She turned away and almost made it to the door. Because she could move far faster than a human, she was ready for him when he swiftly closed the distance between them. When he pushed her back against the wall, she ducked beneath his hold, reversed it, and put him against the wood paneling, holding him there with a hand curved around the base of his corded throat.
His eyes widened. He'd put a defensive hand on her forearm, but his touch was gentle. He was gentle with women, even when he was demanding. He clearly knew how much stronger he was, and she expected he'd never hurt a girl. Well, not unless she enjoyed it. She saw that in him too, and wondered how many playful spankings he'd given. But had he ever had his own ass caned? Had a woman run her lips over every throbbing welt, her slim fingers gripping his ass cheeks, spreading them so she could play with his rim with her tongue? She bet he'd buck against the mattress, come, make a mess against his belly and the bedding.
His touch became a little less gentle, testing her grip when he couldn't dislodge her. She constricted it enough to make him feel his breath labor in his windpipe. Though he didn't yet realize it, she had at least three times his strength. For a normal human male, the multiple might be more, but the man was tough as leather and powerful. She liked that.
"I'm like a rodeo bull," she said, holding his gaze. "I can be ridden, but only if you respect how much stronger I am. And how easy it would be for me to crush you."
He swallowed beneath her grip, but it wasn't nervousness. Not that kind. A different awareness came into his eyes. He had questions, yes, maybe, but something else took precedence. While she'd expected that reaction, seeing it come out the way it did was a lovely surprise.
Reaching out, he hooked a finger in the vee of her shirt. Tugged lightly, encouraging her to come closer. She gave him a step, laying her other hand on his chest. That large finger caressed the valley between her breasts, found the edge of her lacy bra. He ran his knuckle over the rise of one curve, then down between again. The man had a nice, seductive touch, and she saw that awareness in his eyes, but he wasn't manipulating her. He just needed to touch her. He was hungry too.
So she closed the last step, letting her hand slide from around his throat to behind his neck, finally indulging in a nice dive into those thick brown locks that curled over her knuckles. As she lifted up on her toes, he anticipated her mouth, but she nudged against his jaw, making him turn his head away. She traced his carotid with her tongue, her lips.
He had his hands on her hips, gripping her belt loops, then he slid into her pockets, making the paper she'd put in there crinkle. His fingers curved, gripping toned flesh. She made an approving noise as she reached his ear, cruised across his cheek. He had his eyes closed. Her hand was tight in his hair, keeping his head still, a message that she was setting the pace.
"I want to fuck you," she breathed. "I want to hear you beg for my cunt. Hear you say please in a rough voice. That's new for you, isn't it, Quinn? You were taught to demand, not beg. That's what women usually want, don't they? For you just to take. But sometimes you'd like her to be the one to do the taking. It feels good to get lost in someone else's demands. And I have a lot of demands. You can get lost with me for a good...long...time."
"Two-way street, honey."
She was impressed that he'd managed the response, even as she heard the gruff tone she'd wanted to hear. "We'll see." Then she took her first taste of his mouth.
Oh yes. This was going to work out just fine. His lips parted, and the heat of him was welcome, sending a searing liquid rush between her legs. She'd be welcoming his clever mouth down there too. Eventually. She pressed harder against him and he accommodated her unspoken need wonderfully, hands sliding out of her jeans pockets and down to cup her ass and hike her up his body. He reversed their positions so he had her against the wall, his hard cock pushing between her legs, rubbing even with the frustration of two layers of denim between them. When he broke the kiss between them to curve his muscular back and take a nip at her throat, tangling one big hand in her hair to tug her head back,
heat shot through her. Yes, he wanted her to take control, but he'd push the boundaries, do some taking of his own. She liked that mix.
Wrapping her legs around him, she tightened her thighs, watching his eyes darken at the noticeable constriction around his hips, the press of her boot heels against the base of his very fine ass. Watching him deal with Artie, those haunches tight and biceps bunched, had been a display that only whetted her appetite for more. She wanted to take a nice healthy grab of that ass and squeeze until he'd show finger-shaped bruises.
"Upstairs," she said. "Now."
"Not against the wall?" His eyes glinted with mischief, and she gave him an arch look in return, digging a nail into his collarbone.
"I like to eat in bed."
"Yes ma'am."
The address stilled her, and she saw his gaze flicker, noticing her reaction, but she let it pass. Too much, too soon. A strong man who'd denied his true desires, thinking they didn't fit with his image of himself, could be easily spooked by them, at least at first. She wanted the stallion who would come looking for the bridle while still occasionally fighting it for her pleasure. She wasn't interested in the horse she had to break to accept restraint.
He hitched her more securely against him, having no problem carrying her out of the office despite the fact she knew she was heavier than she appeared. He went down to the end of the hall, to the access stairway. As he clomped up the two flights of stairs, she indulged herself by sliding her arms around his wide shoulders, tightening her hold over them. She ran lips and tongue along his jaw, rubbing herself against him, enjoying the feel of her breasts pressed firmly against his chest.
He groaned, stopped to push her against the wall again, bracing one boot on the next stair up so she was sitting on that leg as he gripped her hair once more to force a kiss between them. She permitted it. Frankly, she was getting lost in his passion. She wondered how long it had been for him. Beyond that, how long had it been since he'd had a woman who'd truly satisfied him?
The possessiveness that surged through her was unexpected, setting off some warning bells, but she wasn't going to get bogged down in the possibility of complications. All that mattered was right now.
"Gotta let you down, sweetheart. Gotta unlock the door." He let her slide down his body, but she straddled his thigh as he did, dipping her fingers into his front pocket. It was right above where her pubic mound pressed against hard muscle. When he braced himself against the door frame, pleasure rippled between her legs. He watched her with a half-amused, half-violently aroused expression as she fished out the keys, including a nice tease against the bulge of his ball sac before she pulled the keys loose, dangled them in front of his eyes.
"Here you are."
