Indefinite (Salvation #6)(21)

There’s so much being spoken in this kiss, but I can’t think clearly enough to process it. All I know is that I’ve missed him. So many nights I’ve lain awake, wondering about him, thinking of how I wished we could be different.

Now, he’s here, and I can’t let him go.

Quinn lifts me, and my legs wrap around his hips as he lays me on the couch. “Ashton.” He says my name as though it were a prayer. “I love you.”

I can’t hear those words right now. “Don’t say it,” I plead and pull his mouth back to mine. Kissing him is all I want.

He hovers over me, hands roaming my sides, brushing right under my breast before moving to cup my face with his rough fingers.

Quinn has man’s hands. They’re not soft or maintained because he works hard. I missed that feeling. Missed him touching me and making me feel it everywhere. There’s no doubt that he’s the one branding me with the scrapes from the callouses on his fingers. I can remember each scar from the bullets, knife fights, or whatever else happened that he wouldn’t tell me about.

Then reality tries to weasel its way into my bliss. I’m kissing him when I’m trying to get rid of him. Damn him and his ability to scramble my brain.

I need to stop this. I need to get some distance. The scent of him is intoxicating, and in order to get through it, I need my wits about me.

I turn my head and struggle to catch my breath.

“Ash?”

“No,” I say as I rest my hand on his chest to keep him from kissing me again. “You’re not going to make me feel this way. I’m done. All the way done. I want my life and my heart back. The one you took three years ago. I want to go to a bar, dance with a guy, and maybe take him home. I want to walk through the streets without looking for you or thinking I want you there, because I don’t. I want to stop comparing every stupid man to you. You took that all from me! Give it back, damn it!”

He grips my hand, holding it over his chest. “No.”

“No?”

“No. I won’t give it back because I want every guy to measure up short. I want you to feel my hands when another man touches you, and I want you not to be able to stand it. You think it’s only you who’s fucked up from this?” He laughs once. “I’m fucking lost without you. I’ve lowered myself to getting our friends and family involved. So, no, I won’t give anything back.”

Asshole. “Stop saying these things! It’s too late! It’s too much!”

“Then deny it, Ashton. Tell me you don’t love me,” he demands.

My heart is racing, and my breathing is labored. I want to say it. I could make this all go away with one little lie. It should be so simple because him leaving is what I want, right? It’s the way I can move forward with my life. But I hate liars. I hate those who use other people to gain what they want. It’s not who I am. “I can’t deny it. I just don’t want to love you anymore!”

We both move toward each other in a rush. I kiss him, anger mixed with passion whipping around us with so much force that I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to. His lips are all power as he slides his tongue into my mouth.

We may not be right for each other, but there is nothing wrong about this.

He kisses me hard, and I love the feel of his fingers as they wrap around the strands of my hair. Quinn kisses with a power that renders me helpless. It’s impossible to resist him.

He moans against my mouth, and my hands press against his hard chest. I want him so much. I want to not want him even more, but I can’t stop it. He breaks the kiss, but his lips move to my neck.

“I hate you,” I tell him.

“No you don’t.”

“Shut up.”

His warm breath is right against my ear. “You shut up.”

“Make me.”

He slowly drags his lips back to mine, effectively doing exactly what I told him to do—shut me up.

I can’t think when his hands start to roam my side. My head is jumbled with thoughts of how good it feels and how much I want him. When he moves to my stomach and starts up, I know I’m fucked.

I try to buck up, but he grips my hip. “I need to touch you.”

I need to stop this. If I don’t, there will be no backing out. Then his hand moves higher, brushing against the underside of my breast, eliciting a groan that escapes my lips. “Quinn,” I say, not sure what the hell I’m trying to get him to do. Touch me more or stop altogether.

“Let me make you feel good.”

God, that’s an interesting offer. “And then what?”

His thumb brushes against my nipple. “And then we figure this out.”

I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to talk first and then have sex, but Quinn and I have never exactly followed any kind of protocol. “One time,” I say both to him and to myself. It can only be this once.

He grins. “I much prefer multiples, fragolina, and I know you do as well.”

And then there are no more words.

His hands are on my skin, and I’m lost to him. His power is intoxicating, and I want to drown in it. He tears my shirt off, revealing my breasts.

He cups them, moving his thumbs against each nipple. Then he moves his hands to my back, pulling me up so he can take me into his mouth. His warm tongue circles my nipple, sucking at just the right pressure before moving to the next. My fingers thread into his hair as he alternates.