And Quentin wasn’t like that—not at all.
So she turned her head to him. She was just able to make the outline of his face from the one lamp that was on in his bedroom but he still wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he’d stood taller, his hands now gripping the railing rather than draping over it.
And she took a chance. She touched his arm—and, unlike that first week she’d been here, he didn’t flinch or pull back. He let her hand stay there.
When she finally spoke, her voice was strong with an edge that she couldn’t control. “It’s not just up to you, Quentin. Don’t I get to choose too?” With that, her voice caught in her throat…because she knew he was just as likely to turn her away as he was to accept her offer. And, even then, she felt better voicing it. Even if he said no, it would be okay.
It wasn’t until then that he turned his head to face her. Still, he said nothing—and she could barely see his eyes, but they seemed darker than they’d ever been. But she wasn’t going to fill the silence; she would wait for him to say something, anything, and then she would know.
“Raine…I know a little bit of your history. What I’m saying isn’t judging…but you need to be one-hundred percent sure that this is really what you want.”
Holy shit. She’d thought he was afraid of wanting her—but that wasn’t it. Not at all. He was afraid of…hurting her?
That, more than anything, solidified exactly what made Raine want him.
She got closer then, moving her other hand onto his, remembering how he’d touched her cheek earlier that day—so gentle, so loving, even though it was just for the camera. And his touch now—and even their conversation—was so unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. He wasn’t forcing himself on her or demanding her. In fact, it was the exact opposite.
And it felt empowering.
Her voice firm, she said, “Yes, I want you.” Then, on her tiptoes, she got close to his face—and, when she moved her lips close to his, he also consented…without words. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she pressed her lips into his. As he moved his arms around her, their kiss deepened, and it was far more than the kiss they’d shared earlier in the day. Her body was still responding—but it felt so different. It was cold and dark now, not bright and hot, and there were no people around, making noise, telling them what to do and how to move. Instead, she was focused on nothing but how she felt…and, for the first time in her life, this kiss felt like the most natural thing to do. Unlike earlier…this kiss was slow, unhurried and sensual, and it was all about connecting on a deeper level.
What made it all the more noticeable was how he seemed to be waiting for her. He let her make every single first move, and then he mirrored her actions—and she knew. If she chose not to go through with it, he would respect her wishes. She could change her mind and he wouldn’t force her to continue.
And that made her want him all the more.
He was perhaps the safest man she’d ever been around and she didn’t have to do anything—not one goddamned thing—to please him.
So, as the kiss ended, she took his hands to lead him off the balcony and into his room. Again, though, he hesitated. “Are you sure?”
Nodding, she said, “Yes.”
When she led him into the bedroom, he pulled the sliding door shut. Its sound, shutting out the softness of the desert, grounded Raine, and she instantly felt warmer, protected against the chill of the Mojave night. Slowly, through soft kisses, she removed one piece of clothing and then another, and Quentin followed her lead. After she pulled off her hoodie, followed by the t-shirt, only then did Quentin take off his long-sleeved shirt and the t-shirt underneath. One piece of clothing after another, and all she could hear was how their breathing increased, how his hands seemed to grow warmer when he touched her.
And he wasn’t taking anything from her. No…she was giving it to him freely.
When his lips moved over her skin, it increased her desire, and, at last, when they were completely bared to each other, she pulled him onto the bed. And it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. She wasn’t cringing, bracing for impact; she wasn’t tense, counting the minutes until he’d finished.
No…she was a willing participant, and time seemed to stop for them. She reveled in every sensation—the way he tasted, the earthy way he smelled, the way his skin felt underneath her fingertips, the sounds he made softly in his throat, the way his eyes, when he opened them, seemed to be consumed with emotion.
He was gentle and caring and Raine felt a twinge of…was it grief? Grief for the young girl she’d been, how this part of her had been used and exploited for so long. Never had she felt this way before when she’d bared her body and soul to someone. Quentin seemed to value her and the gift she was giving to both him and herself. And, as her body gave way to release, she sensed that this was…relief.
When they both finished, Quentin pulled her into his arms, but he didn’t say a word for a long while. She could hear his steady breathing but she didn’t think he’d fallen asleep. When he did speak, she had to strain to hear. “This is the first time since…” His voice drifted off until he spoke again. “I probably shouldn’t be trusted. I’m bad news.”
What the hell could she even say to that? She couldn’t…so she just touched his hand, wondering how long it would be before he got up, finding a reason to leave her.
But he didn’t…and neither did she.
As she drifted off into a peaceful sleep, she realized she felt safe as Quentin held her, protecting her against the cold desert night and the rest of the world.
Chapter 18
Quentin awoke the next morning to the sun warming his face, feeling pleasant and happy. But it didn’t take long for realization to wake him up completely.
Jesus Christ. What the hell had he done?
His heart was thudding as he shook his head, troubled by what he’d allowed to occur last night. He should have said no, should have resisted, but he’d allowed himself to cross the line. It didn’t matter that she’d given him explicit permission.
But then he paused, looking at Raine, softly sleeping, her body barely moving as she took slow breaths. Her pale shoulder peeked out of the covers and her face had never looked so peaceful.
