4
JACE WAS STANDING beneath the stone-cold stream of water, trying to get a handle on his libido, when a loud crash and high-pitched scream ripped through him as surely as any bullet could have. He knew the sound of terror when he heard it.
Chills that had nothing to do with the water rippled across his skin.
Quinn. He never should have left her alone.
Instinct and training kicked in. Slamming off the shower, Jace wrapped a towel haphazardly around his waist and bolted for the door.
Stopping only long enough to grab the gun he’d left in the bag in his room, he crept through the house. His senses strained for some sign or sound. Nothing. There was nothing. What the hell had happened?
It was probably less than ninety seconds before he’d swept the rest of the empty house and found himself in the last room, the den. And what he saw there left his skin clammy and made bile spin up the back of his throat.
The window was shattered, glass littered all across the floor. And the room was empty. Quinn wasn’t anywhere in the house.
Had the bastard broken in and snatched her?
A flash of something off to the side of the house caught his eye. Dashing out the front door, Jace followed it.
The moment he saw her relief washed through him, stealing the strength from his muscles. Although that didn’t stop his dash across the yard toward her.
He still had no idea which direction the threat was coming from and until he did...
“Quinn!” he called out, the single word harsh with warning.
She spun on her heels, eyes widening when she saw him barreling straight for her. Her eyes darted to the gun he pointed at the ground—he wouldn’t raise it until he knew the target.
She shook her head, lifting her hands up and waving for him to stop. He didn’t. Instead, he tackled her, wrapping his arms around her waist and rolling in midair so his body would take the brunt of the impact.
But he didn’t stop when they hit the ground. That would have left her exposed. A soft gust of air swept across his cheek as her body collided with his. Jace kept rolling until she was pinned beneath him, his body becoming a shield.
Bent arms pressed by her sides, her palms flattened against his naked chest. He took a few precious seconds to scan her face and make sure she was unharmed before returning his focus to assessing their surroundings.
And that’s when he noticed the five boys standing several feet away, gaping at them.
One of them, the oldest, held a baseball in his hand. Another had a bat. The others all held mitts.
An unpleasant thought twisted through his brain.
A frown pulling at the space between his brows, he growled, “What’s going on?”
All of the boys shuffled backward a few steps.
“Jace, stop it,” Quinn admonished. “The boys accidentally sent their baseball through my window. It was an accident, hardly worthy of a drawn firearm.”
His gaze returned to Quinn. Her eyes stared up at him, exasperation and humor making those golden flecks sparkle.
Her body, tensed after his sudden assault, relaxed. She sank into the thick grass, unconsciously taking his full weight. Her fingers flexed against his naked skin. Her hips shifted. And suddenly he was hard as stone.
There was no way she could miss his reaction.
Slowly, the humor in her eyes faded, replaced with something much more dangerous...and tempting.
Her lush lips parted. Her fingers curled into his skin, as if to pull him closer. Jace’s gaze fell to her mouth. Soft and pink. Full and enticing. He wanted to taste her. Wanted to know if she was as sweet as she smelled.
Had wanted it for a very long time.
His neck curved. Her chin tilted, moving to give him room. Her breath stuttered. They were so tightly pressed together, he could feel the hitch in her chest more than hear it.
Her eyes darkened.
But before he could actually claim her mouth, a small, hesitant voice interrupted.
“Uh, mister, you dropped your towel.”
* * *
OH, DEAR LORD ABOVE.
Quinn’s head turned slowly, her gaze traveling across the breadth of Jace’s shoulders, down his tight biceps, still glistening with tiny droplets of water, to his large hand clenched around a gun.
Okay, so that definitely wasn’t the hard ridge of his gun between them.
She sucked in a harsh breath, her body lighting up like the New York skyline on New Year’s Eve.
“Uh, mister, you dropped your towel.”
The high-pitched little boy voice had Quinn’s gaze dragging back across the hard body pressed tight to hers.
She was human, after all.
It was her only excuse when her body curled up to sneak a peak of Jace’s naked backside.
Dear, sweet heaven.
Her hands dug into the soft grass and tore it up by the roots. It was either that or grab a handful of him. As it was, she couldn’t quite stop herself from squirming beneath him.
Jace hissed, almost like she’d hurt him. Panic surged through her. Had he injured himself diving to the ground?
That thought had her fists unlocking. They were so tightly pressed together, she couldn’t see anything. But, oh, could she feel. Her fingers found his sides, running up over his ribs, down his hips and over the tight ridge of ab muscles, searching for some sign of damage. By touch alone, she explored him, pausing slightly when her fingertips brushed across the raised proof of the scars he’d tried to cover up.
Another groan rumbled up through his chest. The vibration of it shot straight through her, but she was too deep in worry to dwell on her reaction.
She searched his pale blue gaze, looking for any sign of pain. And it was there, lurking deep in the back, an echo that sent adrenaline surging through her body.
“What did you do? Where does it hurt?”
Quinn wrapped her leg around his, and with a surge of her hips tried to flip him over onto his back so she could examine the rest of him. Unfortunately, the move didn’t get her much of anything.
Jace’s hips surged against her, driving her deeper into the ground and pinning her in place.
His long, lean body stretched over hers, reminding her that she could feel every hard inch of him. And there were plenty of them to feel.
“Really? Did you really just ask me that, Quinn?”
Heat flushed her skin, embarrassment and arousal.
“That’s what I thought. Any idea where my towel went?”
As if by magic, a beige pile of terrycloth plopped down onto the ground right beside them.
Jace looked up, a grim smile curving his lips. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“Sure,” a voice said, clearly full of barely suppressed laughter. From a few yards away several snickers joined the moment. A battered pair of sneakers paused for a second before turning and retreating fast, followed by four more. They were blessedly alone, although Quinn wasn’t entirely certain that was a good thing.
Rolling, somehow Jace managed to snag the towel, cover the strategic parts and end up on his back beside her on