Page 22 of Hollow Trace

Quinn mouthed her neck, licking and nipping at her throat, sucking the pulse point where it thrashed beneath her skin, the echoed hammering sounding in her head. He whispered her name, claiming her lips when she lowered her chin.

The rain kicked up in the background, the staccato beat matching Quinn’s punishing rhythm as he pounded into her, the constant banging shaking dust motes down from the rafters. Scout clung to him, kissing every inch of skin she could reach as he managed to free one breast — devoured it a moment later.

She yanked on his hair, wondering why her skin hadn’t spontaneously combusted when he stopped, his gaze raking over her. He let his forehead rest on hers, again, each frantic breath mixing with the cool, humid air, creating puffy clouds around her face.

She drew him closer, drinking him in, wishing she’d taken the time to strip him down — feel all that strong, soft skin pressed against hers.

Quinn skimmed his lips across her mouth, smiling as he nuzzled her nose. “Keep those baby blues on me.”

Scout inhaled, the intensity in his eyes stealing what little oxygen she’d sucked in. Just a rim of hazel shone beyond the jet-black pupils, every ragged breath flattening her chest against his. “Quinn…”

That was all she squeezed past the huge lump in her throat. Realizing she was only moments away from cracking, admitting how much she loved him, as he drew back, then let himself go.

The wood creaked with every firm thrust, as her release coiled low in her groin. Quinn kept moving, his gaze still locked on hers when he shifted her hips, hit that sweet spot.

Scout tipped back her head as a harsh, “Yes,” tore from her lips, her body hanging by a thread. Heat billowed up through her chest, his next stroke sending her over.

Dots exploded behind her closed eyes, the rain fading beneath Quinn’s heated breaths. He shouted her name, finally emptying inside her in a series of stabbing thrusts, the intensity of his response sparking another wave. She held on, half wondering if the pillar might crack, until he finally stilled, his shoulders heaving from the strain. His breath panted across her damp skin as he pressed against her, his head buried in her neck, the sheer weight of him keeping her from falling.

Time drifted, Quinn’s heart still pounding in sync with hers, all the heat slowly dimming into a familiar soothing warmth. A few tears burned her eyes, but she simply let them fall.

A crack of lightning eventually shattered the intimate atmosphere, the accompanying roll of thunder startling him enough he jolted upright, his arms still holding her captive.

He laughed, the easy sound spiking her heart rate again as he smiled, brushed her wet hair back from her face. “Why does it feel as if we just got caught?”

She grinned, loving the playful spark in his eyes. “Maybe because you know my team likely has a maximum amount of time they’ll let us be alone before they check up on us. And your ass is still hanging out.”

“Pretty sure they’d have the good sense to turn around.” He leaned in closer, making her inhale from the sheer presence of him. “Call me crazy, but I’m not quite ready to let you go.”

She nipped at his lower lip. “I was hoping this was make-up sex and not some form of closure.”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed before he punched his hips forward, already starting to harden again inside her. “Give me five more minutes, and I can show you the answer.”

“You just did.” She touched his face, doing her best to put every minute detail into memory, just in case.

Quinn sighed. “Not a hallucination, baby. Or a dream.”

She pressed a ghosted kiss to his lips. “You’re in it. I’d take the win.”

He closed his eyes, rested his forehead on hers until a series of shivers shook through her. A tsk, then he eased her to her feet as he slipped free. She bit her bottom lip, missing the instant loss of heat. How she’d finally felt whole for the first time since Fraser had turned on that plateau — shot Kane.

Quinn helped her into her clothes, shaking his head. “You’re going to catch pneumonia in these things.”

“Says the guy who’s in the same damn boat.”

“Coulter did say he had clothes I could borrow until that Shepherd guy got me new ones. Is that a thing?”

Scout laughed. “Knowing Shepherd, he’s already got a few sets waiting on my bed. Speaking of which…” She drew her finger across his jaw, then down his chest. “You will stay with me, right?”

“Guess I really do need to show you if you’re still questioning that.” He took her hand, tugged her against his chest. “And for the record, I’ve been choosing you since the fifth grade. That’s never going to change.”

More tears spilled onto her cheeks as she tiptoed up and kissed him. Quinn brushed his thumb across her face, staring at her until he must have found what he’d been looking for, finally slipping his hand in hers. He tugged her toward the bunker, and they dashed out, the intense downpour soaking their already drenched clothes.

Scout hit the panel, inhaling when Quinn snagged her waist, turning her until her back hit the side of the bunker as he loomed over her, ravaged her mouth, again.

He blew out a rough breath, staring down at her, eyes narrowed, more than just a hint of color on his cheeks, now. “I needed another taste before we had to be… professional.”

Scout tugged him back to her. “Screw professional.”