Sara meekly raised her hand. “I am.” She slid her cocktail in front of Misty. The three young women had shared an apartment for over a year. Quinn would sooner Cassie still lived with Wolf, but he understood her need to exert some independence. He’d just wished her roommates exerted a more mature attitude. Hell, if he had his way, her roomies would be a passel of nuns, especially after Cassie’s behavior tonight.
“I’ll see that she gets home safely, ladies.” Anger, scalding hot, seared part of his brain even as he snatched Cassie’s wrap and purse from Sara’s outstretched hands. He couldn’t get beyond the vision of another man touching Cassie. He shook her arm and marched her toward the door. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t paddle that fine ass of yours once I get you out to my Jeep.”
She aimed a finely waxed dark eyebrow at him, her heart-shaped face pulling at the possessiveness in his soul. “You don’t have the balls.”
Quinn shoved open the door and Cassie’s feet tangled as he jerked her through it, the fresh air a welcome relief on her skin after the stuffiness inside the bar.
“I want you to take a few deep breaths to help clear that booze buzz you’ve got goin’ on.” His familiar woodsy cologne overtook her senses when he hauled her against his hard chest and leaned to whisper in her ear. “ʼCause you just made the foolish mistake of telling me I don’t have the balls to do something. Little girl, you have no idea what I’ve done in the past, or what I’m capable of doing in the future.”
In the moonlight, augmented by the parking lot security lights, his eyes glittered an odd mixture of blue-grey beneath the bill of his black ball cap. His proclamation triggered an unlikely concoction of fright and craving that poured through her system like hot chocolate on peanut butter ice cream. The desire to lean into him and curl her fingers into his faded Harvard t-shirt was so keen she had to fight to resist.
“Why are you so angry with me?” In the three years she’d known him, he’d never revealed this aspect of his personality. “And don’t call me little girl.”
His hands settled at her waist. “Turning twenty-one doesn’t automatically make you an adult.”
“Yeah, well, bragging about your conquests doesn’t exactly make you a good lover either.” She was tired of hearing about the females in his life, knowing he’d never give her ten minutes of his time, much less a corner of his heart. Which, of course, was the problem. She wanted his whole womanizing heart, not just a jagged edge. She didn’t care how many women he’d had before her; she just wanted to be his last. Yeah, fat chance, Cassie. Wise up.
He wound his fingers around her upper arm and steered her toward his Wrangler. “You allowed a man to put his hands on you.”
If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn he’d spoken through clenched teeth as if he were pissed. But why? “We were slow dancing. People touch when they slow dance, or haven’t you noticed?” Earlier, on the dance floor, Quinn had deliberately circled her and Dustin twice, glaring as if he could kill, as if he were… Joy blossomed and warmed her soul. “Wait, are you jealous that someone had their hands on me?”
A harsh bark of laughter escaped. “Jealous? Me? Peanut, don’t go reading more into this than a good friend merely covering your back. You’re grasping at straws.”
Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe some overconfident man needed his buttons pushed. “I’m glad, because I do need to move on. Just because you don’t find me attractive doesn’t mean another man won’t feel differently if I give him half a chance.”
He stopped for an instant before his hold on her tightened and he marched her forward.
“Dustin gave me his cell number earlier. I’ll call him tomorrow and explain your wild story was just that, a wild story. Maybe I’ll have him over for some homemade lasagna.” If Quinn showed no qualms about her making his favorite dish for another man, then she’d have to face reality: the man she’d crushed on for years had no feelings for her.
“Lasagna?” Quinn backed her against his vehicle. “You’d make lasagna for him?”
“Well, yes. You’ve tasted my pot roast. It’s not always the best, but my lasagna—”
He grabbed her upper arms and shook her, his body practically vibrating with anger. “You make lasagna for no one, but me. Do you hear? Me.” As if the emotional force behind his words registered, a pained expression narrowed his eyes and pinched his lips. “Dammit, Cassie, you’re killing me here.” His head slowly inclined. “Killing me,” he groaned. “Surely,” he kissed one corner of her mouth. “Fucking,” he kissed the other side. “Killing me.” His lips made contact with hers and all the moisture in the upper half of her body dropped to the apex of her thighs.
Fingers that had dug into her arms seconds earlier now forked into her hair, holding her head while his lips molded and seduced hers, sipping, tasting, taunting.
Cassie backed farther into the metal of the Jeep as if she could absorb some of its steely strength because her legs were quickly turning to jelly. All these years, she’d jokingly called him hot lips, but she’d had no clue. Dear God in heaven. This is better than I ever dreamed.
His tongue brushed across the seam of her lips twice. “Open for me, angel.” His deep voice sent sensations up her spine like the stroke of a lover’s hand.
She did and his tongue swept in to lay claim, as if she hadn’t always been his. He tasted of beer and lime and sexual potency. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he stepped closer until their thighs touched, the heat from him nearly frying her brain cells.
His lips left hers and moved across her cheek to her jaw, where he kissed, bit and soothed with his tongue. Warm lips trailed down her neck, sucking, pulling moans from her throat. “When I saw you with that other guy, I nearly went insane. I wanted to get twenty kinds of possessive, no matter what I told you earlier. You’ve got me so freakin’ tied up in knots I can’t think straight. All I know is, at this moment, I want to mark you like some wild beast so no male will ever approach you again.”
“Yes, Quinn!”
As if her exclamation had carried a bucket of ice water, he broke contact and his hands lifted in a stop gesture. He stepped back and shook his head. “I did not say that.”
Her heart beat so fast, she could barely breathe. “Yes…yes, you did.” No way was she going to allow him to recant those words. She’d been waiting for three long years to hear them.
“This,” he motioned with two fingers from him to her and back again, “is not happening. I’m not…we’re not…” He spun and inhaled loudly as if to purge something from his body. “Fuck.”
She grabbed his arm and spun him around. Having two brothers, she knew how to get in a guy’s face. “Why not? Give me one good reason, because this running hot and cold thing you’re doing is driving me nuts.” She jabbed her index finger into his pecs. “One minute you tell me you’re not interested.” Her second finger-jab was harder and his dark eyebrows rose. “Then you show up here and kiss me senseless.” A firmer finger-jab made Quinn grunt. “The next minute you’re pushing me away again.” She curled her
