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Jerk.
Speaking of jerks, Quinn thought about her brief interaction with Rick the other day in the break room. Normally, a guy like that— big, strong, intimidating— would have had her running out the door as fast as she could go. But when he got close to Quinn, too close actually, all she wanted to do was run her hands up his smooth, hard chest and into his dark hair to see if it was as soft as it looked. No, that wasn’t true. She still had the urge to bolt, only now it was buried under a layer of intense desire.
A knock on her door startled her out of her daydream. Quinn gripped the couch cushion tightly, her heart hammering in her chest. Travis couldn’t have found her, right? She left behind her old identity and had been using her maiden name ever since, leaving no paper trail. When she told Mack that her I.D. had been stolen, he didn’t ask a single question. He gave her a job and let her move into the tiny apartment above the gym, no questions asked.
So who would be knocking on her door on a Saturday afternoon? Nausea started to press up from her stomach. Travis.
As if sensing her fear, her visitor spoke. “Quinn, it’s Rick.”
Quinn tensed up, all of her muscles locked into place. How did Rick know where she lived? She didn’t tell a single person, not that she knew anyone or had any friends here. Plus, Mack was supposedly the only person who knew that she was using this space.
Interestingly, in the gym, surrounded by other employees, she wasn’t afraid of Rick. In fact, he brought out the old Quinn. The fun, feisty girl she was before Travis beat the spark out of her. But here, alone, without the comfort of knowing other people were close by? The fear practically strangled her.
“Quinn? I know you’re home. I can hear your television.”
She inhaled, swallowing down a yelp. Reluctantly, Quinn crept over to the door, leaning against the heavy frame. “Rick? Why are you here?” Despite her best efforts to sound casual, her voice wavered, exposing her fear.
“I noticed you don’t have a car. I figured I could give you a ride to the grocery store.”
Quinn’s mind boggled. Grocery store? She shook her head, trying to reconcile the large, intimidating man with the piercing blue eyes and huge ego with this seemingly nice guy who offered rides to the store.
Are there any nice guys? Quinn couldn’t remember a time when she believed there were. She knew she must have at some point, but her complete distrust of anything male, with the exception of Mack, had been deeply ingrained upon her during her time with Travis.
“Ummmm,” she tried to think of logical excuse as to why she couldn’t open the door.
He’s dangerous!
She knew that wasn’t true, even though her subconscious screamed it loud and clear. Something in her gut told her to trust him.
“Quinn,” Rick’s voice sounded softer, like he was trying his best to make her feel comfortable, “I just want to make sure you have everything you need. If you don’t want to go with me, tell me what you want and I’ll bring it back here for you. I don’t want you to starve.”
The steel wall Quinn built around her heart faltered a little at Rick’s offer.
When she first arrived at Sanctum, Mack explained that he worked with a lot of fighters, that they would surround her on a daily basis. Men who would seem violent and frightening and easily provoked. He assured Quinn that there wasn’t a single one of his men that he wouldn’t trust with his life— or hers. Quinn never told Mack what or whom she was running from, but somehow he seemed to know that she needed to feel secure. It was Mack’s way of letting her know that even a tiny girl like her was safe around his team of huge men.
With a sigh, Quinn went with her gut and gave in, unlatching the door to reveal Rick in all of his tall, toned, blue-eyed glory. She had to stifle a whimper at the sight of him. Dressed in a well worn pair of jeans that hugged him in all the right places and a black Sanctum MMA T-shirt that stretched tight over his chest and biceps, with a pair of aviator sunglasses pushed up on his head, Rick was the picture of male perfection. Waves of desire crashed deep inside, a long dead sensation was awakening between her thighs. She wasn’t quite comfortable with the way her body reacted around Rick, yet she craved more.
Jesus, he’s hot.
Rick leaned with his shoulder on the doorframe, arms crossed, and smirked. “So… you going to invite me in or just stand here and ogle me all day. ‘Cause I gotta say, the ogling works for me, doll.” He waggled his eyebrows comically, his smirk turning into a wide grin.
Self-conscious, and now a little annoyed at the slick act he was using on her, Quinn huffed, stepping back so Rick could enter the tiny apartment. “I was not ogling you.” She slammed the door closed behind him. “I was waiting for you to explain how you knew I lived here. And I told you before, I’m not your doll.”
She didn’t care how hot he was or how her body reacted to him. In Quinn’s mind, nothing was more of a turn off than an egotistical douchebag who thought he could snap his fingers and have any woman he wanted.
She watched as Rick carefully scanned her personal space. It seemed as if he were mentally mapping out her apartment, judging the way she lived or looking for someone hiding in the shadows.
By the time his eyes made their way back to Quinn, she was downright irritated at his high-handedness. Who the heck did he think he was barging into her apartment like he owned the place, oozing with charm and his infuriating physical perfection?
Rick’s brows crinkled in confusion at her sullen expression. “What?”
She scoffed at his bewilderment. He probably wasn’t used to women that didn’t fall to the ground to worship at his feet. “You still haven’t told me how you knew where I lived.” She began tapping her foot impatiently, all the while reiterating to herself, “I will not fall for his charms, I will not fall for his charms.”
Rick smiled at her, unintimidated by her hostility. He shrugged casually, “Cameras.”
Quinn’s stomach did a queasy somersault. “C-c-cameras?” Who was watching? Could Travis see her? She knew the thoughts were ridiculous, but the initial reflex to distrust everyone and begin to panic was born from years of abuse.
Rick stepped towards her, his expression meant to be comforting. Instead of it helping, Quinn jumped back as if she’d been shocked with a cattle prod, her mind instinctually screaming at her to run. In her haste, her feet tangled on the edge of the area rug in the small living room and she fell down on her back end.
