When We Fall, Contemporary Romance (Last Frontier Lodge Novels Book 6) Page 6

  Conversation carried on around her with her body suffused with heat and hyperaware of every subtle motion of Quinn beside her. With the booth crowded, she was pressed up against his side, so it was impossible to avoid being close. Not that she wanted to avoid it, mind you, but it was pushing her to her limits.

  “Lacey, didn’t you say you were booking a few trips to the Arctic Wildlife Refuge next year?” Marley asked from the table nearby.

  Lacey glanced over and nodded. “I already have two parties scheduled. For both trips, there’s room left. Who wants to go?”

  Garrett Hamilton, Gage’s brother, raised his hand. “I want to take Nick out there. He can’t stop talking about it, so I figure we should try it once. I don’t know if the trips you do would be the best fit for an eight year old though. Whaddya think?”

  Delia, Garrett’s wife and manager of the lodge restaurant, shook her head slowly. “I don’t know about this.” Delia caught Lacey’s eyes. “Am I crazy to let them even think about this?”

  Lacey shook her head with a smile. “Not really. If they take the family trip I’ve coordinated, they’ll be with two other families with kids, so the whole thing will be light hiking.” She looked to Garrett. “Call me tomorrow and we’ll discuss dates.”

  Garrett flashed a grin, his blue eyes twinkling. He and Delia were a pair of opposites. He was dark with a sharp edge to him, witty and brilliant with a heart of gold. Delia, with her honey gold hair and warm blue eyes, softened his edges, while he eased her tendency to worry. Lacey watched when Delia rolled her eyes at his glee and experienced another odd pang in her chest.

  What is it with you tonight? Everything you see makes you think about Quinn. Oh, and how about you get a handle on what he’s doing to your body? You’d think you’d never been turned on before. Her tendency toward internal sarcasm was at its worst when she felt uncertain because she hated feeling uncertain. And boy, oh boy, did this whole thing with Quinn make her feel like she was bumbling along. Truth was, she didn’t have a ton of experience with men outside the realm of being the friend.

  Time passed in a strange warp between the heat suffusing her and her difficulty focusing on conversation around her. The gathering slowly broke apart until only she and Quinn were left. Somewhere along the way, Quinn had gotten up from the booth and was leaning against the table nearby. Delia poked her head out through the swinging door that led into the kitchen. “Need anything else before I shut everything down back here?” she asked, her eyes flicking from Lacey to Quinn.

  Lacey shook her head. “Nope. Just getting ready to walk home. Dinner was amazing, as always.”

  Delia threw a smile over her shoulder as she turned away, letting the door swing shut behind her. Lacey looked over at Quinn. A waiter was quietly circling the restaurant, clearing tables and flicking off lights. Quinn’s face was shadowed in the low lights. When he caught her eyes, electricity arced across the space between them. Lacey’s pulse rocketed ahead and the need beating like a drum within her all evening struck a higher note, one she couldn’t ignore. She looked over at Quinn. Even when he was relaxed, he exuded quiet strength and power. One of his hands rested on the table, and her eyes traced the corded muscles of his arm. He wore a black t-shirt, which made his amber skin stand out in contrast. He was amber all over from his hair to his eyes to his skin—just golden and so damn tempting she could hardly bear it. He pushed away from the table and reached for his jacket hanging on a hook by the booth.

  “I’ll walk you back,” he said, his low voice sending a prickle of heat through her.

  She couldn’t seem to speak, but she managed a nod and stood. They walked out onto the back deck. The cold air slammed into her. It was a balm to the heat within. She paused at the foot of the stairs and looked up beyond the mountains. The sky was clear, the stars bright against the backdrop. Only a sliver of the moon was visible, hanging low over the mountains. Their breath misted the air. Without a word, they began walking. She was acutely aware of his presence beside her as they walked across the ski slope toward the trail through the trees leading to her cabin. Their footsteps crunched on the frost-covered grass. Somewhere between the lodge and her cabin, she made a decision. Consequences be damned, she would have at least one night with Quinn. Beyond the constant beat of desire drumming within, she was desperate for the escape and had given up on talking herself out of how she felt. The draw was too strong. In the chilly autumn night, she could feel his presence like a magnet drawing her closer and closer.

  When they reached her cabin, Quinn followed her up the stairs and to the door. When she opened it, she glanced back at him. He stood there quietly. He started to speak, but she cut him off when she grabbed his hand and yanked him inside behind her. She felt reckless and edgy inside, unable to contain the desire streaking through her in waves. She looked up, straight into his eyes. She scanned his face—his chiseled features, an old scar that slashed on the lower side of his jaw courtesy of the edge of a rock when he fell while scaling a steep peak once, his full lips, the only softness on his face other than his warm eyes. When she reached his eyes again, they were dark, the desire she felt reflected in their depths.

  While a small voice inside cautioned her she might be crazy, Lacey didn’t care just now. A gust of wind blew through the door. Quinn kicked it shut quickly. She’d thought to leave a light on when they left earlier. The light from the loft filtered down through the railing. She looked back at Quinn and took a step, closing the distance between them. His eyes held hers, sending a frisson of awareness up her spine. He lifted a hand slowly, brushing the backs of his fingers along her cheek. Sensation teemed within, flutters spinning wildly inside.

  “What are we doing, Lace?” he asked, his voice a low murmur.

  She could barely think for the feel of his subtle touch, yearning for more. “This,” she said, her voice raspy. She stretched up, slipped her hand around his nape and tugged him down to meet her lips. The moment their lips met, she sighed in relief. Kissing Quinn was a strange, combustible mixture of familiar and unfamiliar. She knew him so well, yet she didn’t know him like this at all. There was a fraction of hesitation from him, but when she traced along his lips with her tongue, he groaned and swept his tongue inside her mouth. She might be the one initiating these kisses, but he didn’t hold back.

  He fiercely claimed her mouth with bold strokes of his tongue in between nips and kisses. By the time his lips traveled from hers along her jawline, she was nearly vibrating with need. He nipped at her earlobe, sending hot shivers through her. She was plastered against him, aware of every inch of his muscled body flexing under her hands as she dragged one up along the corded muscles of his spine and the other stroking up under his t-shirt. His skin was warm, a contrast to the hardness of his body. Every inch of him was fit, and she savored the ripple of his muscles under her touch.

  While she explored him, his hands meandered over her in turn, stroking down her spine to cup her bottom and tug her against him. She gasped when his lips made their way down along the column of her throat. He suddenly pulled back. The only sound was their breath heaving in the quiet room. She looked up to find him staring down at her. “Lace, I don’t know if…”

  She shook her head sharply. “Don’t. Don’t stop this.” The force of her words surprised her.

  Quinn stared down at her for several beats before moving swiftly. He stepped back, shrugged out of his jacket and toed off his boots. When Lacey realized he wasn’t turning her down, she threw her jacket to the floor and kicked her shoes off. She began to turn toward him when he reached for her and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the small couch. She slipped down when they reached the couch and looked up at him. She might be half out of her mind, but she wanted him, wanted this, so much it almost hurt. In the dim light, he lifted his hand again, tracing lightly along her jaw, down her neck, along her collarbone, down over the curve of her breast, and coming to rest in the dip of her waist.

  With that reckless, wild edge spurring her
along, she moved swiftly and hooked a hand under the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head in one swoop. She flung it across the room. His breath came out in a hiss. He reached for her hands, stilling them in his. In that moment, she could feel his pulse beating against her palms, strong and fast. He dipped his head and brought his lips to hers again. They dove into another kiss—hot and fierce. The slow burn in her center had her arching and flexing into him, savoring the feel of his hard shaft against her low belly. Frantic to be closer and to feel more of him, she shoved his shirt up. He tore his lips free and reached behind his neck, pulling his shirt off in a single move to join hers in a rumple on the floor.

  Impatient, Lacey yanked his jeans open and slipped her hand inside, stroking the length of his cock. Every time she tried to take over, he distracted her with his touch. His strong palm stroked over her belly and along the undersides of her breasts, his touch feather-light and sending hot shivers through her. He thumbed a nipple through the silk of her bra and leaned forward to lave it, dampening the silk and drawing the tight bead into his mouth. At her cry, he did the same to the other. She gripped his hair and gasped, a low moan breaking free. Hot liquid need built inside. She was drenched with desire and frantic to feel more of him, to lose herself in the wild longing pounding through her.

  When he lifted his head and flicked his thumb under the clasp of her bra, she sighed at the feel of the cool air on her breasts. She was flushed all over, hot and bothered to the point of no return.

  He traced her peaked nipples, his eyes following his touch. “So beautiful. Lace, you have no idea what you do to me.”

  His words came out on a breath, rough with desire. When she flicked her eyes up, his canted down. The dark desire in his slammed into her. That and something else, something deeper. For a flash, she lost the bold recklessness that had been driving her and became almost frightened. This was surreal, something she’d never thought she’d allow herself, and with Quinn, of all people. Yet, she’d blown too far past the barriers she’d kept in place to stop it. She shook her shoulders, letting her bra fall off and quickly shoved her jeans down before she had a chance to stop and think. His eyes followed every movement, never breaking away.

  She paused to savor the sight of him, his muscled chest gleaming under the shadowed light from the loft. The smoky intensity in his gaze took her breath away. The air was alive around them, shimmering with the heat and desire arcing between them. She moved swiftly and shoved his jeans down, which he kicked free when she placed a palm on his chest and nearly shoved him down on the couch. Somehow, she felt marginally in control when she took over. She started to straddle him, but paused when he spoke.

  “Lace.”

  She froze, one knee on the couch, and looked up at him.

  “Hand me my jeans.” He gestured to where they’d fallen just beyond her foot.

  She leaned back and snagged them, puzzled at his request. In seconds, he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and tossed a condom on the small table beside the couch. Oddly, the reality of what they were doing hit her when he did that. She experienced a glimmer of uncertainty, but she swatted it away. Whatever came of this, her longing for Quinn had only grown in its depth since she’d first felt its flicker.

  She straddled him and stroked a hand in his hair. “This is what I wanted the other night.” She sank her hips against him, savoring the feel of his hard cock against her, only the thin cotton of her panties and his briefs between them.

  He gripped her hips and brought her down hard against him. “This is what I wanted.”

  He laced a hand in her hair and pulled her in for another kiss. She’d come to learn his kisses were pure art—the perfect blend of slow and fast, soft and hard, and so damn intoxicating they made her wild. By the time he pulled away, she was practically a puddle. Her hips were rolling, pleasure spiking from her core with each motion. His hand loosened in her hair and slid down her spine, every feather of his touch sending shivers across her skin. His touch curled around a hip and between her thighs, stroking across the damp cotton.

  She didn’t even recognize the sounds coming from her—pants, gasps, pleas and cries. He finally, finally pushed the cotton out of the way and delved into her folds, which were slick with need. He slid one finger inside her channel and then another. Her hips shifted restlessly, chasing after a peak she’d never climbed with anyone other than herself. Impatient she tugged at his briefs, shoving them far enough down to free his cock. Curling a palm around the velvety shaft, she glanced up when his breath came out in a rough groan. Still driving his fingers into and out of her channel in a slow circle, he fumbled for the condom with his other hand, making quick work of the foil packet and pushing her hand out of the way to roll it on.

  In a blink, he was gripping her hip with one hand and positioning his cock at her entrance. Her channel throbbed with need. She’d been teetering on the edge of an orgasm for what felt like hours. Tonight had been one long episode of foreplay. His nearness was all her body needed to tune in and turn on, desire spinning it like a top.

  “Lace, look at me…”

  Lacey dragged her eyes open to find his waiting. Fire flashed in Quinn’s gaze. He held her hips still for a hot moment, just long enough so that when he eased her down as he arched up, she almost came right then. Her eyes fell closed as she tumbled into the cauldron of sensation. He moved slowly and with purpose, each stroke seating him deeply within her. She rose and fell, her hips circling in time with him. The feel of him filling her was so intense, the pleasure built and built until she flew apart, sensation spinning loose inside as she cried out.

  Quinn felt Lacey’s channel clench around him and opened his eyes to see her head fall back with a cry. She was utterly glorious in her release. As with everything, she threw herself into the moment, wild and abandoned. Once he decided he couldn’t quite find it in himself to not allow this to happen, because he truly wanted it more than he’d wanted just about anything, he found himself overcome with pure need, a longing so deep it dragged him along with it.

  He arched into her again, his own release thundering through him just as her head fell forward into the curve of his neck. She softened against him, and he eased his grip on her hips and slowly stroked a palm up her back to sift through her hair. They sat like that for so long, he lost track of time until he felt her skin prickle with goose bumps. It filtered into his awareness that it was chilly in her cabin.

  “Hey, we should start a fire,” he said softly.

  She slowly lifted her head and met his eyes. His heart thumped, hard, and a wash of feeling rolled through him.

  Chapter 7

  Lacey burrowed closer to Quinn. Half asleep, she didn’t initially register what she doing, it felt soooo good to be curled up against him. He emanated heat and strength even in his sleep. As her brain started to become more aware, she flushed straight through. Oh. My. God. What had she done?

  Her mind was swift with its reply. You had the best sex. Ever. With Quinn. So good, you forgot to lose your mind over it last night. Maybe you should do that now.

  Lacey lay still, unable to bring herself to move away from Quinn. They were tangled together. Her head was tucked against his shoulder with his arm curled over hers, holding her close against him. She could feel the muscled planes of his chest and the steady beat of his heart under her palm. Her leg was thrown across his. They were completely naked. Just lying still with his glorious, purely masculine self beside her, it was as if a switch was flicked in her body. Heat suffused her, her low belly clenched and holy hell did she want him with a fierceness that took her breath away.

  The reckless edge that had pushed her to be so bold last night had faded in the gray light of dawn. Those hours of being close to him at dinner and a few glasses of wine had knocked away her usual reserve and her sanity. Yet, what she’d anticipated didn’t even come close to how amazing it felt to be with him. After generally concluding sex didn’t seem to spin her top the way it did for others, she
now realized she just hadn’t had it with Quinn yet. Even without that reckless edge, she wanted Quinn and it wasn’t just sex. She felt half-crazy. She’d never thought she’d be one to want the whole commitment thing. Heck, she didn’t really even do casual. Her attempts at dating had been few and far between. She’d envisioned herself as carrying on with her life of independence and free from the trials and tribulations of love. Then, Quinn had walked off that plane in Anchorage, her old friend who’d never elicited even a twinge of desire from her, and her body and heart had sat up, as if in a coma all those years, and taken notice.

  Quinn shifted in his sleep, his palm sliding off her shoulder and down along her spine in a sleepy caress. A shiver chased behind his touch, her skin prickling with awareness. He mumbled something and then cleared his throat. Lacey froze. She didn’t know how to face him this morning. Her mind started spinning, wondering what last night had been like for him, wondering how he viewed her and what he might want, and worrying she’d gone and done the dumbest thing ever by not only giving in to her reckless desire, but insisting on it. She was saved from further mental gymnastics when he spoke.

  “Mmm. Mornin’.”

  She wracked her brain trying to think of what to say when it occurred to her it was quite simple. “Good morning,” she mumbled into his shoulder. That’s all she had to say, something normal. Maybe if she acted normal, she’d feel normal.