Murphy's Law (25 page)

Quinton shored up Denny's claims. “He's right, honey. I can guard you better than the police, if you'll let me.”

She started to tuck back her hair, remembered it was stiff with blood and iodine, and struck a cocky pose instead. “Amazing. You're all three waiting for me to argue, aren't you?”

“Because you usually do,” Tim pointed out. “I think you like to be contrary.”

She laughed. “Well, not this time. Not when my safety is an issue. I don't particularly want to be blown up, you know. Until the police catch up with Elton, I'm all for playing it safe.”

“Glad to hear it.” Quinton put his arm around her and coaxed her toward the door. He wanted her in his house, in his bed, and in his arms. Until he got her there, he wouldn't start feeling right again.

 

Ashley was unusually subdued on the ride home.

Denny drove, with Tim in the front seat beside him. Quinton couldn't keep his hands off Ashley, and though she stayed glued to his side, she seemed withdrawn, as if she'd suddenly erected new barriers against him.

He tried to write it off as the circumstances. She had to be in discomfort. Hell, his head still pounded from the explosion, and he couldn't seem to loosen his muscles. He was rigid enough to fracture, but he tried to hide that from her.

They needed to be alone, to talk, but he wouldn't take chances with her safety.

When Denny pulled the car into the driveway, another car pulled up to the curb. Headlights stayed on as a man stepped out and approached.

“It's okay,” Quinton told her.

Regardless of his reassurance, Ashley stiffened, but when Denny opened the door to greet him, she sighed.

“I suppose he's part of the new security you mentioned?”

Quinton lifted her right hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “He and his men will be outside the house all night. In the morning, new video cameras will be installed that'll include the entire yard. I'll cancel my postal delivery and use a post office box instead, until Elton is behind bars. I want you to do the same thing.”

She nodded. “Good idea.”

Denny returned to the wheel and put the car back in drive. “He says the cops are circling the block, too, watching the yard. He introduced himself to them.”

Ashley closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. She looked minutes away from falling asleep.

He asked Denny, “Would you mind coming inside and going through the house, just to be sure? I want to get Ashley cleaned up and then into bed.”

Tim snickered, and it was all Quinton could do to keep from smacking him in the head. Denny did it for him, which started Tim apologizing to Ashley.

With her head still resting on Quinton's shoulder, her eyes closed, she flapped her good hand toward Tim. “No apology necessary. Truthfully, I was thinking the same thing.”

Quinton did a double take. “Don't be ridiculous. You're hurt and you've been through hell—”

“Right. Sorry about that.” She snuggled closer. “I didn't mean to pressure you. If you need to rest tonight, I'll understand.”

Tim started laughing. “You see. I wasn't the only one who—”

Quinton and Denny said together, “Shut up, Tim.”

He nodded, but then asked, “Is anyone hungry?”

Quinton was too busy staring at Ashley, wondering if she'd meant that, if she truly wanted to make love with him. God knew, he wanted nothing more than to be close to her, as close as two people could get, to touch her all over and assure himself of her well-being.

“I could get some food together,” Tim continued. “We were at the hospital for hours, and my stomach is starting to rumble, so I just thought the rest of you might want something to eat, too.”

Ashley smiled. “Actually, now that you mention it, I'm starving.”

Knowing he had to pull himself together, Quinton kept his gaze on Ashley, but told Tim, “Feel free to root around in the kitchen and see what you can find. I'm not sure what's there, but help yourself.”

They parked in the garage. Quinton keyed in the password to his alarm system, then stood back and allowed Denny to go in first. While he and Tim checked through the house, Quinton waited in the garage with Ashley. She curled her pink cast in close to her body and valiantly tried to hide her exhaustion.

Wishing he could read her thoughts, Quinton tipped up her chin with his fingertips. “Starving, huh?”

She smiled at him. “Ravenous.”

Much more of her teasing, and he'd lose it. “I don't want to hurt you, honey.”

“Then plan on putting me out of my sexual misery. You're the one who got me addicted. And Murphy's Law aside, it's been way too damn long to suit me.”

“But your arm…” As gently as he could, he touched her cheek. “Your
cheek.
You have to be hurting.”

“Damn right.” She stared at his mouth. “But it's nothing you can't fix.”

Quinton didn't know what to make of her mood. She was so determined to be intimate that she obliterated his resolve to pamper her. Most women would've been in constant tears, or even in shock, after what she'd been through.

“I know what you're thinking, Murphy, so knock it off. I wasn't the only one there tonight. You were right beside me, and you were injured, too. But you're not whining or huddling into the fetal position. You don't see me coddling you like you're a fragile piece of glass.”

“I'm a man.”

The black eye and bandaging gave her an especially feral look. “If you weren't already so battered, I'd smack you for saying that.” She caught the front of his shirt in her right hand and hauled him down to within inches of her. “Speak up, Murphy. Do you want me or not?”

How could she ask something so ridiculous? “Always.” He touched his mouth to hers. “I want you so much I can't think of anything else. I asked Denny to check the house because he'll be sharper tonight than I can be.”

“Great.” She bobbed her head once in satisfaction. “Then let's go get cleaned up, eat, and kick our beloved guests out on their cans.” Her wide grin taunted him—but it was the emotion in her dark eyes that grabbed him around the heart.

Holding out a hand for Ashley to precede him, Quinton followed her into the house. They reached the kitchen just as Denny returned from his check, with Tim in tow.

“The upstairs and this floor are clear. I'm going to poke around downstairs, too, but nothing looks disturbed to me.”

“Thanks, Denny. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Better safe than sorry. Soon as I'm done, I'll help Tim in the kitchen.” He winked. “You two take your time. We'll wait for you.”

Once Denny had sauntered off, Quinton escorted Ashley to his bedroom. More docile than she'd ever been with him, she sat on the end of his bed while he ran a warm bath and dug out clean clothes for her.

She seemed lost in thought when he reentered the bedroom, but the second she saw him, she stood. “Will you help me get out of my clothes?”

“Yes.”

That alluring smile teased over her mouth again. “I have a black eye, stitches, and yucky hair, and you're half hard already.”

Quinton glanced down at himself and cursed. “It can't be helped, not when I know you'll soon be naked.”

“It wasn't a complaint. I'm just surprised. I figured guys wanted a woman who looked nice. Not one who looks like she's been through the wringer.”

Quinton carefully peeled her shirt upward, revealing first her pale belly, then her small breasts. “I suppose it has to do with being male, and no, that's not cause for smacking me. When a man feels protective toward a woman, and she's looking small and vulnerable, well then, dominant male tendencies come out.” He clasped her rib cage just beneath her breasts and smoothed her skin with his thumbs.

“Mmmm.” Ashley stepped out of her shoes. “I like the sound of that.” She gestured toward the fly of her jeans. “Wanna lend me a hand here?”

“My pleasure.” Deliberately brushing her with his knuckles, Quinton unbuttoned her fly and eased down her zipper. The loose-fitting jeans gaped open. Going to his knees in front her, he tugged the jeans down to her ankles. Ashley lifted each foot in turn, and he shoved the jeans aside, leaving her in nothing more than a minuscule pair of pale pink panties.

He wanted to play the game with her, he really did. His sexual encounters with Ashley had shown him the meaning of true satisfaction. He loved making love to her, hearing her soft sighs and harsh moans, the way she clutched at him, her willingness to explore.

But when her small hand sank into his hair, possessiveness crashed through him and he crushed her close, his cheek to her belly.

“Quinton?”

Damn it, he couldn't get a single word past the lump in his throat. Tonight he could have lost her, and he'd been battling a riot of emotions ever since. He shook his head, hating the way he felt so overwhelmed and uncertain and too exposed.

“We're both okay, you know.” Her gentle voice washed over him. “And now that I'm here with you, I'm better than okay.”

She reassured him, unmanning him with her understanding, and Quinton couldn't bear it. It made him weak, which was something he couldn't abide. He naturally countered by sliding his hand inside the leg of her panties to palm one plump cheek. At the same time, he pressed a kiss to her navel. “You are so soft.”

She laughed. “I'm also impatient.”

“Right.” Pulling himself together, Quinton tugged her panties down her legs, stood, and scooped her into his arms to carry her into the bath.

“I feel pampered.”

He nuzzled a breast and said, “No, you feel hot.”

Making sure she kept her cast propped on the ledge surrounding the tub, Quinton lowered her into the warm water. He knelt next to the tub and stroked the side of her neck where an ugly bruise marred her delicate skin. “Want me to wash your hair for you?”

“Thanks. I'm not sure I could do it without getting my cast wet.”

Reaching over his shoulder to grab a fistful of his shirt, he yanked it off over his head and tossed it to the bench. “Just relax, and I'll do everything.”

He took his time, and to his surprise, Ashley didn't once protest. Near her injured skin, he took special care, using a cloth to dab around her stitches, removing the iodine stains. After her hair was clean, he soaped up the cloth to give her shoulders and lower back a sudsy massage. He washed her slender legs and played with her small toes, enjoying her giggles.

And when he brought the cloth to her breasts, and then between her legs, he tried to be detached—but couldn't.

Ashley leaned forward and said, “Kiss me, Quinton.”

He did, but he kept the kiss light and easy, then retreated. “If Denny and Tim weren't downstairs, I'd delay this forever. I enjoy taking care of you. Given these tight nipples”—he stroked the cloth over her breasts again and heard her deep inhalation—“you enjoy it, too.”

“I suppose if we kept them waiting, they'd know exactly why.”

“They're guys, so of course they'd know.” He opened the drain in the tub, stood, and shook open a big fluffy towel. “Come on, honey. Let's go eat.”

As Ashley stepped out of the tub and he wrapped her in the towel, Quinton thought it was just as well that company curtailed his inclinations. Seeing her like this, so weary but still stoic, her good humor intact, made him that much more anxious to be with her, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. He worried enough for her that he wasn't sure about sex, but he cared enough that he craved the special closeness of lovemaking.

Quinton shook his head at himself and concentrated on drying her without further arousing himself. Even with stress and exhaustion leaving circles under her eyes, he loved seeing her so casually at ease with him.

By the time they reached the kitchen, Tim had put together a stack of cheese sandwiches, pickles, nachos, and colas over ice. Bundled in flannel pants that drooped low on her narrow hips, and one of his oversized sweatshirts with the left cuff cut away to accommodate her cast, Ashley looked adorable. She tucked her wet hair behind her ears, padded barefoot to the table, and immediately dug into a sandwich, devouring it in no time.

Studying her with near fascination, Tim put another on her plate, along with some pickles and chips. He smiled as he watched her eat.

Quinton knew that Tim was seeing Ashley with new eyes, and it pleased him that Tim had accepted things so easily, that he seemed intent on building a special bond. He only hoped that Ashley would be happy about it when she caught on to the changed circumstances.

After gobbling down two of the sandwiches, Denny crossed his arms on the top of the table. “I don't suppose you plan to sleep in tomorrow?”

Ashley shook her head. “I have class. The semester ends soon. If I miss anything now, I might blow the finals.”