SIN FOR YOU: ROCKTOWN INK, BOOK TWO Read online

  My chin jerked back. “Seriously?”

  “I didn’t really have many girlfriends growing up, not close ones. My best friend’s a guy, and Ted is so not into any of this. And I’m pretty sure I’ve lost him to Cal, the traitor.” She rolled her eyes and smiled softly. “My mom died when I was young, and I guess I withdrew. My father’s world set us girls up to be more rivals than allies. I was lucky, I had my gran, and before he died I had my brother, Chris, but I haven’t had a lot of female friends.”

  I was stunned by what I was hearing, the loss she’d experienced. We had a lot more in common than I’d realized. And Cassy was…well, she was just so great, funny and kind and warm, it was hard to believe she didn’t have many friends. “My mom died as well, when I was very young,” I said, surprising myself again. But it felt right to share. I wanted to. “I only had my dad and my brother. I didn’t really have any women in my life growing up. I guess I never knew how to relate. I always had more guy friends.”

  “Our pasts are so similar.” She gave my hand another squeeze, and she grinned. “Quinn, will you be my friend?”

  I kept my expression neutral and took her hand in mine. “I thought you’d never ask. Yes, Cassy, yes, I will be your friend.”

  We both burst out laughing again, probably more as a release of emotion than anything. We’d purposely kept things light, when our watery eyes said what had just happened meant more to each of us than we were letting on.

  When we got ourselves under control, and I’d topped up our glasses, Cassy turned to me, eyes wide with excitement. “I think it’s time for a fashion show.” She grabbed one of the bags and shoved it in my hands. “Start with this one. Oh! Try them on with your new jeans, or the skirt.”

  I jumped up, ridiculously excited by this idea, and rushed to my room to change. Cassy said we should work with what I liked, with just a few changes to spice things up.

  So, yes, I did have more jeans, but they had gorgeous stitching detail and one pair had a rose embroidered onto the back pockets. And for something different, we’d gotten a denim skirt. We’d also gotten a whole lot of T-shirts, but they were a little step up as well, with cut-outs and rhinestones and one had the cutest little puffed sleeve. They were edgy and sexy and comfortable, and thanks to Cassy’s knowledge of the stores in Springhaven, fairly inexpensive.

  I should probably feel guilty about dipping into my savings. Old Blue wasn’t going to keep going for much longer, but I refused to regret it. Today had been the best day I’d had in months.

  And the only thing I’d really splurged on was my dress for the exhibition.

  It was black, had a deep V neckline, and the skirt kind of crossed over itself, giving it a small split over my right thigh. Cassy found a thin silver belt to pair with it, adding that edge I liked, and it was perfect.

  Grinning to myself, and feeling a little daring after three wines, I chose the denim mini and one of the shirts with strategically placed slashes through it. It was black and you got peeks of my hot pink bra underneath. I loved it.

  A crash came from outside, and I spun toward the back of the house.

  What the hell was that?

  The sound came again.

  I rushed downstairs to the living room, and Cassy’s excited expression dropped when she got a look at my face.

  “Something’s out there,” I said in a loud whisper.

  Cassy’s eyes got wide and she stood as well. “What do you mean?”

  Another crash came from the back of the house.

  We both jumped, and Cassy grabbed my arm.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. “What the hell is that?”

  “We should check it out,” I said, knowing my eyes were as wide and wild as Cassy’s.

  “I’m not going out there,” she whisper-screeched.

  I was already shaking my head. “Hell no. I was gonna peek out the window.”

  We shuffled down the hall toward the window, still clinging to each other, and I slid back the curtain in the kitchen. The sensor light had come on so we could see clearly.

  “Shit,” Cassy said. “That’s one freaking big mountain lion.”

  “I’m never going out there again,” I said in horror as I watched the cougar tear through my trash can by the back door.

  “We get them at the ranch sometimes, often because they’re injured or sick or just looking for food.” She rushed back to the living room and I followed. “Let me call Cal. He’ll know what to do.”

  “What do you do at the ranch?”

  She shook her head. “The ranch hands always handled it; now Cal does. I stay as far away as possible.”

  I listened while she relayed what was happening on her phone then hung up.

  “He’ll be here as soon as he can.”

  There was another crash, this time against the back door. We both jumped and screamed.

  “Have you ever heard of a cougar getting into someone’s house?” I said, close to freaking the hell out.

  She shook her head. “I think he just knocked the trash can against the door.”

  Neither of us spoke and instead listened to the thumps and crashes right outside my kitchen for what felt like forever.

  In reality, it was only minutes before we heard Cal’s truck screech to a stop outside the house. Followed by the sound of boots and, a moment later, a deafening blast like a bullhorn. A few minutes after that, someone knocked on the back door. We rushed to the kitchen.

  “Is that you, Cal?” Cassy called through the door.

  “Well, it’s not the mountain lion,” he said.

  I yanked the door open. “Thanks for coming.” I felt like an idiot.

  Cal walked in, Bull right on his heels, a gun in his hand. They stepped into my small kitchen, and I watched as Bull took in the room. I guess he hadn’t been here in a long time. Not since Mase moved away. His eyes came to me next and stalled. That brown gaze slid from my head to my toes then back up to my face. His jaw tightened.

  Ouch.

  With that one look I was back to feeling inadequate, the runt of the litter, the ugly duckling in the pond, the brown paper bag beside a silk purse, without him even saying a word. I knew he’d never hurt me on purpose, but he couldn’t hide what he was thinking. What he was seeing wasn’t something he wanted.

  Like I didn’t already know after being rejected by him twice.

  Humiliation fired through me. I’d stepped out of my comfort zone and now I felt like a fool.

  Bull still hadn’t said anything, so I forced a grin. “That’s a big weapon you have there.” Going with my usual humor and sarcasm to cover the stupid pain his look had caused.

  Bull frowned and Cal chuckled. “I think he’s overcompensating for something.”

  I laughed, even though I didn’t believe that for one moment. I knew firsthand, even if the contact had been brief and through layers of clothes, that Bull didn’t have to overcompensate for one damn thing.

  “Okay, well, we better head off,” Cassy said. “I had such a great time today. Are you…would you like to grab lunch sometime this week?”

  A smile curled my lips. “I’d love that.”

  Cassy smiled as well. “I’ll text you.”

  They headed for the door, and I waved as Cal and Cassy left, then turned to Bull who was standing behind me. “Aren’t you leaving as well?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. Install an alarm system in the morning.”

  “You don’t have to do that. You can leave. I’m fine.”

  He ignored me, walked back to the kitchen, put his gun on the table, and locked the back door. He turned to me. “Go to bed, Quinn. I’m staying.”

  Going by the look on his face, there was no getting rid of him tonight. Shit. “Okay, fine. If you want a crappy sleep on my tiny couch, be my guest.” I didn’t want him there. God, it was like he was trying to torment me. Then I felt bad since he’d come to my rescue, and muttered, “Thanks.” Because he was only doing his duty. Pr
otecting his friend’s sister.

  I probably sounded ungrateful, but my emotional stamina was at an all-time low right then. I’d gone from excited and happy, to scared senseless, to dagger-to-the-chest hurt. I couldn’t muster up the energy to deal with Bull in my house.

  So I turned and left him in the kitchen and headed upstairs to get ready for bed.

  I stared at myself in the full-length mirror in my room. Did I really look that terrible? I turned this way and that, taking in my reflection. I liked the new clothes. They made me feel more…me.

  Why was I letting that look, that tightening of his jaw, get to me like this? I guess I was so used to Bevan’s insults, his looks, the put-downs, trying to change myself to make someone else happy, to make them want me, that I was doing it with Bull, and I hadn’t even realized it.

  It didn’t matter what he thought. The only thing that mattered was what I thought. This was for me, not anyone else.

  I was done lusting after him like a dreamy-eyed idiot, and I was done dwelling on what happened with Bevan. I was ready to change things up, to get excited about life again, and today was the first step.

  Chapter Six

  Bull

  I strode across Quinn’s small living room and back. And then back again, trying to calm my shit down.

  I’d been at Rocktown Ink working when Cassy called. When Cal told me what was going on, I’d nearly knocked him down rushing for my truck.

  Then I’d gotten here, and after we’d scared the damn cougar away, I’d walked in to find Quinn dressed like…fuck, like that. I’d wanted to tear off my shirt and cover her, which was fucked in the head.

  It wasn’t like Cal would notice, and why the hell did I care how she dressed?

  An image of her smooth bare legs flashed through my head, and my gut kind of…clenched. Jesus. I shoved my fingers through my hair. Quinn could wear whatever the hell she wanted, but if she wore that shit at work, showing off her gorgeous legs, flashing her bra, I’d be swatting guys away from her like fucking flies.

  I mean, that’s what had me worked up, thinking about having to fend off all the assholes who’d come swarming. Having to take time from my busy bar to look out for her, that’s all.

  That’s why I had this restlessness rushing through me, this knot in my gut.

  It had nothing to do with what happened after I’d inked her mother’s cross on her smooth skin. Nothing to do with how she’d felt plastered against me.

  Don’t go there.

  Fuck.

  I walked back to the kitchen and looked out the window, checking the backyard again. Everything was quiet. After the scare Cal had given the big cat, I didn’t think he’d be back tonight.

  Still, I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

  I gripped the edge of the counter. I needed to go to sleep and shut down my brain.

  I strode down the short hall back to the couch. I took off my boots and pulled off my jacket. My skin felt overheated, tight. I yanked my shirt off as well, tossing it aside. There was a blanket over the back of the couch, and I snatched it up.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here.”

  I turned at the sound of Quinn’s voice. She was standing there, a pillow held against her chest, another blanket over her arm. Her eyes were wide, trained on me, and there were dark smudges underneath. I didn’t know for sure why she wasn’t sleeping, but I had a fair idea. Christ, I hated to think of her lying awake at night all by herself, hurting. Fucking Bevan.

  Her words finally penetrated my brain, and I grunted. Was she really that surprised I was still there? Really? After the last few months of watching out for her? Did she think I was that much of a prick that I’d leave her unprotected when she’d had a wild fucking animal in her yard?

  She held the pillow and blanket out to me. “I brought you these.”

  I grabbed them and tossed them on the couch, then had to hold back a growl when I saw she was still wearing those fucking clothes. I could see her pink bra through what was supposed to pass as a T-shirt, and if she’d been wearing that skirt when Dice and his brothers had stopped in, I would’ve had a fight on my hands without doubt.

  Quinn was nothing but trouble for me. Ever since she came home, my life had been turned upside down. She was always…there. And if I wasn’t at work with her, she was in my damned head. I was wondering if she was okay, if she needed anything, if she was lonely, if she’d eaten, if she was in bed…

  She crossed her arms, and Jesus fucking Christ, there was no way to miss how that lifted her small tits higher until the top of one handful-sized, perfect, soft-looking lace-covered breast was exposed through a slash in her top. I gritted my teeth as my skin flushed hot and my mouth went dry.

  “Look, thanks for staying here like this and making sure I’m okay.”

  I grunted because I was kind of flipping the fuck out inside in that moment and making small talk was an impossibility.

  She licked her lips, her gaze sliding over my bare chest. My abs tightened involuntarily, like her small hand had slid over my now clammy skin. “I’ll just…head up to bed.”

  Best idea I’d heard all night. I turned away and flicked the blanket out to make my bed for the night, releasing a relieved breath when I heard Quinn’s retreating steps. I didn’t know what had gotten into me lately.

  When I’d pulled her into my lap at the bar, after Ajax made a play for her, I hadn’t wanted to let her back up. Shit, I’d liked having her there, and I’d liked those men thinking she was mine, that they’d have to go through me to get to her.

  Then there was that fucking kiss, how I’d lost control with her after I’d inked her, after that call from my mother.

  It wasn’t right, not any of it.

  And the thought of other guys seeing her in the clothes she was wearing tonight had me in a tailspin. I didn’t want to examine that too closely. Not there, not then, so I climbed on the couch, pulled the covers over me, and worked at shutting down my mind.

  The memory of pressing Quinn into the wall filled my head. The way her smaller body had felt against mine, the way she’d wrapped herself around me, thighs spread wide, those curves, so soft. And her scent…

  I sucked in a sharp breath when my balls started to throb, and then groaned.

  Shit, I could smell her. She was all over the comforter she’d given me. Yeah, it was like Quinn’s slight weight was covering me.

  I swallowed hard.

  Where the hell had that come from?

  Get that shit right the fuck out of your head. Now.

  Why the hell was I thinking about her like that? Why now?

  Because she’s beautiful, and smart and funny, and any guy would be lucky to have her.

  But not just any guy deserved her.

  And I sure as fuck never would.

  * * *

  Soft thighs bracketed my face.

  The sweetest pussy I’d ever tasted against my mouth.

  So good. I swallowed down the sweet honey coating my tongue, groaning when Quinn fisted my hair and ground down harder.

  “More, Logan, please.”

  I jolted awake—to find a cushion covering my face and my dick hard enough to bang in nails.

  Breathing hard, I tossed the cushion aside, the dream still lingering, so fucking real, and if I was honest, not the first where Quinn had taken the starring role.

  I sat up, snatched my shirt and dragged it on, then stood and went to the bathroom. I needed a piss, which wasn’t going to be easy in my current state. Groaning, I fisted my painfully hard cock and tried to angle the fucker down so I didn’t piss all over myself and Quinn’s bathroom.

  Awesome. What the fuck had I become?

  Nope, wasn’t happening.

  Jerking off would solve the problem, but there was no way I was doing that in Quinn’s house with her just upstairs after dreaming about eating her pussy.

  I cursed when my dick jerked, impossibly getting harder.

/>   Shit. I folded my hard cock up so it was against my stomach and pulled up my boxer briefs, wincing when I zipped my jeans closed. Thankfully, my shirt was long enough to cover the head of my dick—fat and purple and looking as pissed off as I felt—poking out above the waistband.

  I washed my hands and went back out, quickly pulling on my jacket and zipping it up for extra coverage. I was folding up the comforter when Quinn jogged down the stairs, looking all fresh and bright-eyed, more rested than I’d seen her in a long time, dark hair down and wild.

  She was wearing a T-shirt but it had the shoulders cut out, showing a good amount of her olive skin. “Morning,” she said. “You sleep okay? I was worried you’d be uncomfortable.” She motioned to the couch. “It’s not really Bull sized. Coffee?”

  “Yeah, thanks,” I said, trying to act like a reasonable, coherent fucking human being. You know, saying actual words.

  She headed down the hall, and that’s when I saw the back of her jeans. There were roses stitched on the back pockets and they brought the eye right there, down to her pert little round ass. Oh hell no. They wouldn’t work in the bar, a lot like that shirt she was wearing last night and the skirt, too.

  “So thanks again for sticking around,” she said, pouring me a mug of coffee from her machine that had obviously been set up with a timer.

  I took it and drank deeply, trying to shake the fog in my head and the vivid memories of that dream. “Don’t need to thank me. Would you thank Mase for the same thing?” I said for some fucked-up reason.

  Quinn frowned. “Well, yeah, I would, actually. Brother or not. And in case it slipped your mind, you are not. You went above and beyond, so, yes, I do need to thank you.”

  I inwardly winced at my desperate attempt to get my head back on straight, back to where I needed it to be. Which was an epic fail, because Mase sure as fuck wasn’t having the kinds of dreams about his sister that I was.

  She’s not your sister.

  No shit.

  I quickly finished off my drink, suddenly desperate to get the hell out of there. “I’m gonna set up a motion alarm out there. The cougar comes back, a shot of cold water hits him and sends him away. Should sort out the problem.” She opened her mouth to speak and I shook my head. “Don’t tell me not to do it, and don’t thank me,” I said, probably a lot harsher than I’d intended.