Allison Brennan - The Hunt

She reached down, trying to draw him up to her mouth where she could sink into him, become one with him. Instead, he parted her legs and used his thumbs to rub small circles everywhere but there , the one place she needed him.

“Quinn, I’m ready.”

She moaned and arched her back.

“I know,” he murmured, but did nothing to speed up his foreplay.

It was as if he wanted to get to know her all over again. He’d spent so much time in the past touching, holding, petting every inch of her skin. She’d missed the attention, both the sweet affection and the hot passion. As Quinn explored her body, the memories of everything that had been right between them flooded back. How he had not only accepted her flawed body, but helped her learn to love herself again. He made her comfortable in her own skin.

His mouth drew closer, closer… she arched in anticipation. He didn’t disappoint. As soon as his mouth clamped down on her mound, she orgasmed. A hot, fast purging that had her gasping for air. His hands stroked her thighs, her back, taking her up, then easing her back.

He kissed her inner thighs, her navel, her stomach, her breasts, all the way to her neck.

She rolled over with him so she straddled him.

“What?” he asked, his wicked grin illuminated by the glow of the desk lamp. But his light manner was betrayed by his hard body trembling beneath her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

I need him.

She pushed her needs aside. She didn’t know what would happen after tonight. She didn’t want to think about the sunrise and the stark light of reality it would bring. She didn’t want to think of Quinn leaving again, of going back to being alone. Without him.

Seize the time they had now. Embrace rediscovering a small part of what they’d shared in the past. Pretend nothing had happened in the last ten years to keep them apart.

She kissed him, her hands running over his skin as he had touched her. He held her close, their bodies molding together. She slid down, out of his arms, and pulled off his sweats. This was what she wanted. A complete union.

Quinn’s patience was drawing to a close. He wanted to make love to Miranda in the worst way. Where sex and love merged. He watched her in the dim light, her long, dark hair falling in front of her face, looking like a wild woman with large, luminous eyes. His satisfaction at having given her pleasure quickly turned to urgency, and he moaned as she reached between his legs and squeezed.

“Wait,” he said. He didn’t want to lose it too soon. He had wanted to make love to her, hold her. Take it nice and slow. But the way she held him, slow was the furthest thing from his mind.

“I don’t think so,” she said, slightly mocking.

He made the mistake of looking down and seeing her bend between his legs and take his hard length into her mouth. Her luscious lips enveloped him, and the combination of watching her and feeling her hot mouth and wet tongue suck him caused his cock to throb, making him ready to explode.

“Miranda.”

He pulled her slowly up, until he could kiss her lips. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she breathed into his ear.

He’d dreamed about this for ten years: holding Miranda, making love to her. It almost seemed a dream. He’d never thought they could regain what they’d lost.

He never wanted to let her go. He didn’t want to lose any more time.

He let her control the pace. Just like the first time they made love, he let her decide when and how deep and how fast.

There would be time for more later.

She was so incredibly sexy as she spread herself and slowly, almost painfully, slid onto him. Her hair was a wild tangle of long curls, her lids heavy on her eyes, her mouth parted. So gorgeous. He resisted the urge to speed up their lovemaking, wanting to end it now and keep going forever at the same time.

Miranda gasped as she fully sheathed Quinn within her body. It had been so long since she had made love, but her first orgasm had paved the way.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

She looked down at him, marveling at the deep affection she saw in his face. He reached up and rubbed her arms.

“Yes,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you a long time.”

Unhurried, she moved on him. Up and down, enjoying every sensation as together, their orgasms built. She felt him tense beneath her as they moved more urgently in unison. The sheer joy of being one with Quinn again brought her to the peak.

“God, I love you,” Quinn said, his voice husky with emotion and lust. “Come with me.”

His words sent her over the top as much as feeling his body against her. His muscles tightened, his arms pulled her down onto his body and they became one, united in a bond that had been stretched thin over time. But, like a rubber band, had snapped back as soon as they’d seen each other again.

She never wanted him to leave.

Miranda collapsed onto Quinn’s chest, feeling more relaxed than after an hour in the hot tub. Every limb was liquid, and she slid into the nook of his arm. He wrapped his arms around her, stroked her, and she soaked in his warmth and strength. Paradise in his embrace.

“I love you, Miranda.”

She snuggled against him, her head on his shoulder, and sighed. She loved him, too. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to have everything back the way it was before Quantico. She wished she’d never gone in the first place. Had she stayed in Montana, things would have been so much different. She’d have had the last ten years feeling as loved and protected as she did right now.

Thinking about what might have been was pointless. But maybe they could rebuild. After David Larsen was caught and convicted, maybe they could have something together again.

She wanted to try. But now… she was so tired. She yawned.

Quinn knew the moment Miranda fell asleep because her entire body melted against him.

He pulled the comforter around them and stared at her while she slept. She looked at peace, and he was pleased to be able to give her one calm night.

He touched her hair, gently caressed her cheek. He loved her so.

Quinn’s cell phone rang and he bolted upright, instantly aware from the quality of light he’d overslept. A quick glance at the digital clock confirmed it: 7:45 A.M.

Next to him, Miranda stirred. Her hair fanned out on the pillow, her long neck kissable, and he wanted nothing more than to make love to her again.

His phone chirped again. Duty called.

“Peterson,” he answered.

“It’s Colleen. I’m getting a bad feeling about Larsen.”

“What happened?”

“The wildlife biology department director, a-um, Sarah Tyne-called the university’s off-site research lab in Craig. That’s up in northwest Colorado. Wanted to pull Larsen’s log sheets. He last checked in on Monday.”

“The day after we found Rebecca’s body.”

“Right. He said he was going back to monitor some peregrine falcons. That’s his specialty. So one of the research guys went out there early this morning.”

Quinn’s stomach flipped. “He wasn’t there.”

“Nope. In addition to his Denver apartment-which is empty-he lives in a trailer way out in the middle of nowhere, and his field supplies were there, but no Larsen. They tried calling him on the radio-the researchers are required to keep them on at all times when in the field-no answer.”

“Did you find out what kind of car or truck he drives? Is it there?” Quinn pulled out his pad and made notes.

“He drives a truck, but I don’t have the details. It’s not with his trailer.”

“I’ll check on car registration. Get out there and see what you can find. If he turns up, detain him. I’m going to put an APB out on him. For questioning only-I don’t want him getting spooked. And do it quietly-I don’t want him panicking and killing Ashley van Auden. He’s only had her two days. She’s probably still alive.”