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“I’d really prefer you didn’t.”
He laughed. “I’ll bet you would. Give me one good reason not to.”
“I could give you dozens, but only one really counts.”
“What is that?”
“I love you, Bodie. I don’t fully understand what’s happened to me or why loving you is part of it, but it is. As part of that vow, I’ll promise to do what you want me to do where my safety is concerned. On the drive back to the estate, I realized that Gutierrez most likely got away because you were more focused on ensuring I was safe than getting him. He killed him. Gutierrez took Alvaro’s life. I keep thinking if I done something different...”
He shook his head. “No. No, nothing you did caused Alvaro’s death. He was dead when we got there. We think someone was on to what he was doing. Gutierrez was going to kill him. If you really want to blame somebody, blame his father for incurring Gutierrez’s wrath, or me for not killing Gutierrez the last time.”
“You couldn’t have known,” she said, rising onto her knees.
“Could I have known? Maybe, maybe not. Should I have known? Definitely. I’m going to trust you with what’s in the works. There’s a cop who’s been on Gutierrez’s payroll for a while now. I sent Gutierrez a message via the cop that if he cuts all ties to New Orleans and the Mississippi, there won’t be any fallout.”
“You don’t mean that…”
“No. Gutierrez doesn’t have an ounce of honor. If I don’t kill him, he may well retreat, but he’ll come back and have you in his crosshairs—not because he fears you…”
“But to cripple you.”
“I see you figured it out.”
“I did,” she said softly. “Too late for Alvaro…”
“Don’t go there,chère. You are not responsible for any of this. If Alvaro hadn’t found you, he’d have found someone else—someone with less tenacity and intelligence. They would have both ended up dead. Thank god you were you and escaped that fate. Alvaro didn’t, and I will ensure that Gutierrez does not.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, reached out, and laid his hand on her breast—cupping and hefting it as if checking its weight. He began to lightly trace a pattern with his fingers, circling her areola around and around as her nipples stiffened further and seemed to be drawn to him like steel to a magnet. Bodie flicked the tightened peak with his thumb, making her moan and wish it was his lips instead of his hand.
Quinn could feel her body coming alight—her pussy softening and getting wet and ready to take him inside. Even his lightest touch made her adjust her legs so they were spread wider, and he could see and smell her arousal. Her mate—her warrior had come home, and she was more than ready to welcome him.
He tipped her onto her back, stripped out of his clothes, and moved to cover her body with his. She gasped as he settled himself between her thighs and pushed into her in a single, long pass. There was no swift possession followed by his riding her hard until she was screaming his name. Bodie didn’t have to say a word. Everything she needed to know rolled down the tether. What had started, at least for her, as a one-night stand had transformed into a great love, one that would be told around the campfires of their people long after they were gone. This felt like more than fucking, more even than lovemaking. This was special and sacred and would sustain them forever.
Bodie continued to press forward until he was deeply seated inside her. “You have always been my fated mate and you always will be. I love you.”
Quinn wrapped herself around him, holding him close and intertwining her legs with his. He began to thrust into her, letting her body take his weight as she sank into the mattress. Again and again, he stroked in and out, their lips fused together as his tongue danced with hers. He was heavy and there would be no escaping him. She knew that now and wondered why she’d ever doubted that or had even wanted to try. His mass surrounded her, and she knew she had found her home and her true calling.
He continued to drive into her, surging forward with his whole body so that he caressed her clit each time he did so. Her hips moved of their own volition, and her body arched up, seeking a closeness that had never existed for her before. The tenor and rhythm of his thrusting changed as he sensed her impending orgasm. Over and over, he stroked into her until he gave a last, fierce stroke, driving deep and then pulling back ever so slightly so the barbs on his cock stiffened and caught in her tender flesh as he began to flood her pussy with his cum.
Bodie allowed himself to relax and cling to her for a moment before rolling to his side and dragging her with him.
“I still ought to beat your ass,” he murmured into her hair.
“Nah, I like this so much better.”
“Don’t you think even for a minute that playing the wanton alley cat will absolve you of all crimes. At some point down the road, I won’t want to fuck you three or four times a day anywhere, anytime, and anyhow I want.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, although she knew that passion ebbed with time and the white-hot flame between them would become something stronger and more permanent. “You think so?”
“Sure, give me a hundred years or so, and I’ll probably only want to fuck you morning and night in our bed and maybe get a blow job in my office.”
Quinn rubbed her head against him. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
* * *
Bodie
St. Louis Cathedral was one of New Orleans’ oldest churches and most notable landmarks. Its triple steeples towered over Jackson Square, and it was often said to be the heart of old New Orleans. The cathedral kept regular communion and confessional hours, and Bodie had learned that private communions could be arranged for certain individuals with specialized needs. Bodie could see where the cathedral would want to accommodate Riccardo Gutierrez—he was a known leader of a cartel, and since his arrival in the city he had made substantial contributions to the church’s coffers.
