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  Except, hell, it had felt amazing. Like it was more than fucking but less than what he imagined love might be. He’d watched his teammates who were in love, and none of them had a single doubt about how they felt.

  Blade, however, didn’t know what this was. It was an amazing physical connection. No doubt. But wouldn’t something as profound as love come with incontrovertible proof that’s what it was?

  Of course it would. His teammates had been hit with lightning or some such bullshit and they just knew. He didn’t know. All he knew was he cared for Quinn and he couldn’t wait to fuck her again.

  Which wasn’t going to be all that long since they were in the same house with nothing much to do except wait for orders. He’d barely dressed when he was imagining stripping Quinn naked and eating her pussy while she curled her fingers into his hair and screamed. He’d always loved eating pussy, but he’d never obsessed about it. Until now. All he could think of was spreading Quinn’s legs and licking her pretty pink folds until she begged him to stop. It was fucking intoxicating.

  “Shit,” he muttered as he got dressed and tried not to let his hardening cock determine how he spent the day. If he fucked her again, they’d both be sore.

  Instead, he went into the kitchen and started to fix breakfast. The deal had been whoever came first won. He’d always intended her to come first. He set about cracking eggs and putting bread in the toaster. When the food was ready, he carried it on a tray to the bedroom.

  Quinn lay on her stomach, her back exposed as the covers had drifted down. Blade made a noise that might have been a whimper as he stared at the curve of her back. He could run his fingers down that curve, between her buttocks, and into her wet pussy. Then he could follow it with his dick, thrusting until they both came.

  Except, dammit, he’d made breakfast and she needed to eat. He went forward and sank onto the bed beside her. Her red hair was a gleaming mess on the pillows, her skin creamy and pale. She made a noise and turned over, her breasts popping free of the covers.

  Oh fuck, those pretty nipples. So pink, so responsive, so beautiful. Blade itched to take her breasts in his hands, to press them together and lick her nipples while she moaned. Hell, he wanted to fuck those breasts they were so pretty, but he’d spring that on her another time. Maybe in the shower when he could come all over her chest and she could wash it off right away.

  Jesus, Quinn made him horny. The fantasies he had when he thought about her were intense. Exciting. Dirty.

  “Quinn,” he said, clearing his throat, determined not to enact any of his hot imaginings while trying to bring her breakfast.

  Her eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment to focus on him. When she did, her smile was so pretty it made his heart clench. “Blade,” she breathed.

  He wondered that she’d switched to calling him Blade so easily. She’d known him as Adam, and she occasionally called him that, but mostly she’d switched to Blade as if she’d called him that his whole life.

  “I brought you breakfast.”

  She pushed herself up on an elbow. “Did you?”

  “Fair’s fair. You came first.”

  She snorted softly. “You planned it that way.”

  He set the tray on the bed beside her. “Damn right I did. A gentleman always comes last.”

  He picked up the fork and pushed it through the eggs.

  “I want to make you come,” she said, and his insides clenched.

  “You do, Quinn. So hard I can’t think for a long time after.”

  “No, I want you to come first. I want to make you crazy.”

  “You do make me crazy. But eat what I cooked for you, and I’ll let you make me come first the next time.”

  She frowned as if she were disappointed. But then her stomach growled and she pressed a hand to her belly. He held up the fork with eggs. Her frown grew. And then she ate the eggs and he grinned at her.

  “Fine. I’ll eat,” she said. “But your turn is coming.”

  He couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After breakfast, Quinn showered. Thinking of Blade and all they’d done together made her so sensitive she considered turning the stream onto her clit and letting herself come. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d used the shower to climax, but it seemed like too much of a waste to do it with him so close. He could make her come so easily. A finger in the right place, a tongue—a cock.

  “Stop,” she said softly. “Too much of that and you won’t be able to walk.”

  Her legs were already shaky, and her sex was slightly sore. Apparently you really could have too much sex. She frowned. Too bad, because if it weren’t for that, she’d be trying to get Blade naked again.

  His body was a wonder to her. The muscles so hard and smooth, his skin so silky and beautiful with its decorative ink. His cock made her belly drop with longing. It was long, thick, and he knew how to use it to drive her to heights she’d never experienced with a man.

  Quinn turned the hot water down and let cool water stream over her body. It was necessary in order to tamp down the flame licking higher inside her.

  She finished showering, got dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, and blow-dried her hair until it was still damp but not soaking wet. Then she emerged from the bathroom and went to find Blade. He was on the phone when she entered the living room.

  “Yeah, we’ll be there in a few minutes. Just waiting on Quinn… and she’s done,” he said as he turned and made eye contact with her. He smiled, and her heart did a ridiculous throb thing that actually hurt. She put her hand on her chest and rubbed.

  “What was that about?” she asked when he ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket.

  He put his hands on his hips and frowned at her for a moment. She started to get worried when he didn’t speak. Then he blew out a breath and said something that made her stomach roll.

  “I haven’t told you the truth, Quinn.”

  Oh boy. “You’re married, right?” Because that was the worst thing she could think of.

  “Nah, not married. But I’m not quite who I said I was. I didn’t leave the military… I’m still a SEAL.”

  “Okaaay… So what does that mean?”

  “I’m not a bodyguard. Never have been. I was, uh, tasked with the job of protecting you because we had a connection and because I speak Chinese fluently.”

  She was trying to process what he was saying. “But why? Why would anyone send you to be a bodyguard for me?”

  “Because you’re Quinn Halliday. Because your husband was a rich man with military contracts and suspected allegiances to the Chinese that might allow them to spy on American military operations.”

  Quinn blinked. Suspected allegiances? Hunter had been superpatriotic, or so she’d always thought. He’d often denigrated her for her accent, telling her that America was the greatest nation on earth and Britain was puny and weak. She’d ceased reminding him that she was actually an American as well as a British citizen because it only made him angry. He’d told her to talk like an American if she was so damned American. She’d only once pointed out that Americans came from many countries and some still spoke with accents. That had earned her a swift backhand across the mouth.

  “Are you telling me that Hunter was colluding with the Chinese to allow them to spy through his processors?”

  Blade’s brows lifted as if he was surprised she’d figured it out. Then he nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I was there looking for proof of his crimes.”

  Her heart thumped and her eyes stung. Stupid Hunter. “And did you find it?”

  “No. Unfortunately. The situation escalated far too quickly. It went beyond what any of us suspected.”

  So Hunter had been a traitor to his nation. Of course he had. Anything in pursuit of the almighty dollar. Something else occurred to her then. “And what about me? Was I a suspect too?”

  The corners of his mouth tightened for a brief moment. “Yes.” She tried not to feel wounded. “Bu
t it was clear to me from the beginning that you weren’t involved with Hunter’s schemes.”

  She supposed that was something. “I’m glad to hear it… So who were those people in the van? The man on the plane who you said was the boss?”

  “He’s the boss, all right. Just not my boss. Or not my usual boss.”

  Blade came over and took her hand, folding it in his. She was slightly torn over letting him. In one respect, she loved when he touched her and this was no exception. In another, he’d obviously been keeping secrets from her. Not terrible secrets, but she still couldn’t help feeling a bit betrayed anyway. Especially that she’d been a suspect in the first place.

  “You’re about to meet my teammates, Quinn. I trust them with my life—and with yours—and I know they can help keep you safe.”

  “Why are you telling me these things now?”

  He looked down at her hand clasped in his, then back up at her. Their eyes met. Held. Her heartbeat quickened.

  “I probably shouldn’t. Nobody’s gonna be happy about it. But you’re my girl, Quinn. That’s why.”

  “What’s that mean, I’m your girl?”

  He frowned as if he were thinking about it. “It means I’ve got your back. I’m not abandoning you this time. We’re friends. For real. I’ll fight for you if I have to. I won’t let anyone tear you down again.”

  “I appreciate that,” she whispered, her throat suddenly tight.

  “Are you pissed at me?”

  “A little. But I understand why you didn’t tell me before now. And I don’t know that it would have made a difference anyway. You came back into my life, and I’m thankful for it however it happened.”

  He tugged her into his embrace. “Yeah, me too.”

  He pushed her hair over her shoulder, caressed her cheek. She tilted her head back to stare up at him. To gaze into those eyes that she wanted to lose herself in. Her heart hurt looking at him. Because she wanted everything with him. He was what she’d been waiting for her whole life. But once more, she was stuck in a place where she couldn’t tell him that. Because what if it wasn’t what he wanted? What if she lost him by doing so?

  It was just like being back in high school and crushing hard on him, except this time they’d actually had sex. But that didn’t mean he was hers.

  “I don’t know where this is going,” he said, “but I like where we’ve been so far.”

  Her pulse careened out of control. “Color me surprised that a man likes sex.” She grinned.

  “I do like sex,” he said, the hint of an answering grin on his lips. “But I really like sex with you, Quinn.”

  “Bet you say that to all the ladies.”

  He let his palms slip down her sides to her hips, dragged her against him. He was hard and her belly churned with need. “No, I really don’t. Sex is sex. It feels good and I like it a lot. But sex with you… There’s something slightly addictive about it.”

  She pushed her hips into him and his breath hitched. “Only slightly addictive? I’m insulted.”

  “Okay, it’s more than slightly addictive. I told the guys we’d be there in a few minutes, but right now all I want to do is strip you naked and bend you over the back of the couch.”

  “I want that too… but I think I won’t be able to walk if you do.” She hated to say it, because she really did want him buried inside her, but she had to be realistic.

  He snorted. “It’s okay. My dick wants to fuck you, but there’ll be repercussions if I do.”

  She blinked. “Really?”

  He bent down and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “Yeah. Men get sore too, baby. Best give it a rest for a few hours.”

  He stepped back and tugged her toward the kitchen. “Get your purse. We’re headed over to my team leader’s house. Everyone will be there, including the women.”

  Quinn’s nerves spiked. She was going to meet his friends? Oh holy shit. And women? They could be the worst sometimes.

  “You okay?” he asked, and she knew her nerves must be showing.

  “Uh, sure. Just a little nervous.”

  He put an arm around her and pulled her into his side. “I watched you work the room that first night when Hunter insisted you go to that business dinner, and then the night of the party at your place. You’re amazing, Quinn. You know how to talk to people, even though it’s something you work at. You’ll be fine.”

  She loved that he knew she had to work at it. That it wasn’t natural. He’d known her when she could barely say boo to a ghost, so he knew how far she’d come. Yet another reason she loved being around him. He knew who she really was.

  “I will be. I know. But these are your friends, not Hunter’s business associates. I didn’t care what they thought about me. I care what your friends think.”

  “They’ll like you because I do. Promise.”

  Like. It wasn’t what she wanted, but it was a start. “Okay. I hope you’re right.”

  “I’m right. Now come on, let’s get going. I want you to meet everyone. And I want to get a plan in place for taking down whoever killed Hunter. I won’t believe you’re safe until we’ve got the bastard.”

  It was half an hour to Dane “Viking” Erikson’s place. When they arrived, the cars belonging to Blade’s teammates sat in the driveway and on both sides of the street. A sense of relief flooded him. He didn’t doubt Ian Black’s ability to get the job done, but there was just something about having his friends involved that made it even better.

  He parked and then took Quinn’s hand when she joined him at the front of the vehicle. He didn’t care if his buddies ribbed him over it. Quinn was special to him, and he didn’t mind admitting it.

  They went up the sidewalk. He didn’t have to ring the bell. The door opened and Ryan “Dirty Harry” Callahan stood there, looking as big and menacing as he could. Then he broke out in a grin.

  “Dude, wow. I want a special assignment if it gets me a girl that looks like this one.”

  “Mind your manners, Dirty,” Blade growled. “Quinn is a lady.”

  Dirty performed a mock bow. “Of course. Pleased to meet you, Lady Quinn.”

  He was surprised when Quinn laughed. “Not literally a lady,” she said in her proper English accent. “Just Quinn will do.”

  Dirty looked smitten. Blade was more annoyed than he’d thought possible.

  “Quinn.” Dirty took her free hand and kissed it. Blade tried not to lunge for his throat. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Blade slapped at Dirty’s hand. “Let her go, asshole.”

  Dirty laughed, but he dropped Quinn’s hand. “You got it, Blade. Looks like you’ve been initiated into the club.”

  “Initiated? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “The PW Club, dude,” Dirty said as they stepped into the foyer and he closed the door behind them. “You’re gonna fit right in with Viking, Cage, Cowboy, Cash, and Camel.”

  Quinn shot him a puzzled look, no doubt at the litany of odd names. He shook off the annoyance he felt with his teammate and the Pussy Whipped Club, a name they’d come up with as teammate after teammate seemed to fall under the spell of a woman, and explained. “Nicknames. Like Blade. It’s easier that way.” He jerked his head at Dirty, who was definitely on his shit list at this point. “This one is Dirty Harry, though we just call him Dirty for short.”

  “And what is the PW Club?” Quinn asked politely, shifting into social mode.

  Blade squeezed her hand and led her into the house. “Nothing, baby. It’s Dirty being juvenile.”

  She didn’t ask for an explanation, and he didn’t offer. Instead, he walked her into the big open-concept kitchen and living area that Viking shared with his DEA agent wife, Ivy. The team was gathered around the giant island, laughing and talking. They all looked up when he walked in with Quinn. He had an urge to gather her to him, but he didn’t do it.

  “Quinn, this is my team.”

  “Hi,” she said with a little smile and a wave that he knew cost her a lo
t of introverted energy.

  “Hey there,” Viking said. “Welcome, Mrs. Halliday.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You can call her Quinn,” Blade said. Viking shot him a look that said volumes. He pressed on anyway. “You may know her as Mrs. Halliday from the files, but Quinn and I went to high school together. We were best friends.”

  “That’s right,” Quinn added. “Please do call me Quinn. I prefer it. I wasn’t happily married to Hunter Halliday, and while I’m not happy he was killed, I’m not sorry he’s out of my life.”

  There was a bit of a stunned silence for a long moment. Blade had told Viking on the phone that Halliday was dead, so it wasn’t news to the group, but it was the first time any of them had heard how Quinn felt about it. After an awkward moment, Miranda Lockwood McCormick sashayed forward, her golden-blond perfection as stunning as always, and held out her hand.

  “I’m Miranda. I’m married to that one over there,” she said, pointing at Cowboy. “He’s an ass, but he’s gorgeous and he’s mine.”

  “Hey,” Cowboy said, sounding slightly offended. “I’m not an ass.”

  Miranda laughed. “Yes, you definitely are. But I love you anyway.”

  And just like that, the ice was broken. The other wives and girlfriends came forward to welcome Quinn while Blade’s teammates laughed and added their own encouragement. By the time all the introductions were made, Quinn had settled into what Blade thought of as her hostess mode. She might not be the hostess, but she acted like one, expressing interest in other people, asking questions, being concerned about their comfort.

  He stayed by her side, but she didn’t actually need him. She’d transformed herself into what was required. He knew it would cost her later, because at heart she was an introvert, but he was proud of her.

  “So, what’s the story?” Remy “Cage” Marchand finally asked when they’d exhausted the chitchat.

  Blade pulled out a barstool for Quinn so she could sit at the massive island.