Knock Me Off My Feet

Chapter 11

September 14

Dear Homey Helen:

I've known people who've used compulsive neatness as a substitute for human connection, for human feelings. My theory is these people keep the mind and hands occupied so the heart doesn't break.

I think you've seen this behavior: Clean, clean, clean. Control, control, control. Do, do, do-all to stay so busy that you don't have time to look around and realize you've wasted your entire life.

And realty, what is the point of a spotless house or an orderly desk if your life is in shambles?

– Your most loyal fan

PS: I really enjoy the new "Pet Corner" on your Web site. It's helpful and entertaining!

Quinn thought it possible that he was hallucinating. After all, he'd been thinking of nothing but Audie all morning-as he raced home at seven to shower and change his clothes, then while in the shower, then on the drive into the station, and each second he'd been sitting here trying to pretend he was the same Stacey Quinn who sat at this desk on Friday.

But he wasn't. Because this morning he was Autumn Adams's lover, and the desk sergeant had just escorted her into the detectives' room, and he felt like he did every time he'd ever had the privilege to watch Frank Thomas hit one over the400-foot center field wall at Comiskey Park -he was awestruck. Just damn glad to be alive.

Stanny-O was up on his feet. "Audie!" He pulled up a chair for her. "Did you recover from yesterday?"

Her eyes flew wide and she stared desperately at Quinn.

"Good morning, Audie," he said evenly. "I think Stan was asking if you liked the party."

"Oh, crap. Hell." She collapsed in the chair and produced a weak smile for Stanny-O. "Yes. I had a great time. You?"

"Always do. Want some coffee, Audie?" Detective Oleskiewicz winked at Quinn as he started toward the coffee island. "You sure look like you could use a cup or two… or five." He winked at Quinn again.

"I'd love some!" she called after him.

Quinn tried not to smile too much. He tried not to stare at the short tan linen skirt and matching blouse she was wearing. Hetried not to reach out and touch her hair or the smooth skin of her thigh just above her kneecap. He tried not to carry her bodily to the supply closet and take her up against the wall next to the copier toner.

"Good morning, Homey," he said softly. He leaned back in his chair and clasped his fingers behind his head. "So you missed me, huh? It's been"-he quickly checked his watch-"three hours and forty-six minutes since I left your place."

It seemed Audie was trying her best not to smile at him, too, and Quinn watched her bite down on her bottom lip and slowly flutter those thick black lashes of hers. He nearly fell over backward in his chair.

Damn, she was something else. Quinn had not exactly led a monastic lifestyle, but sex with Audie had been a mind-blowing experience. And there she sat this morning, trying not to smile or look him in the eye, and his heart was so full it was sore.

What had happened between them last night-all last night-had been intense. Fun. Wild. And extremely important.

So of course he wasn't the same man who'd sat at this desk on Friday, because today he was the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet.

Unfortunately, he also was risking the wrath of his commander and needed to find a way he could stay on Audie's case and still come clean with Connelly. Exactly how he'd manage that remained to be seen. He'd worry about it later. Because just then, Audie decided she'd smile at him.

"Here you are, Audie." Stanny-O placed her coffee on the edge of Quinn's desk and reached into his top right-hand drawer. "To what do we owe this lovely visit? Care for a mint?"

"Oh. Sure. Just a sec." Audie shook her head as if she were shaking loose her thoughts and started rooting around in her shoulder bag. She took out handfuls of hair clips, receipts, trash, crumpled cigarettes, and a balled-up pair of panty hose before she found what she was looking for.

"Here it is. Another one. It was in this morning's mail."

She tossed the envelope on Quinn's desk and shoveled all the junk back in her bag. Then she reached for a Frango Mint and popped it in her mouth.

Quinn picked off a few flecks of tobacco from the letter before he unfolded it and read it without comment. Then he handed it to Stanny-O.

"Jeesh," Stanny-O said. "I've gotta tell you, these letters are really starting to piss me off. I mean, what is this?" He held up the note. "Who's he talking about?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure it's not me," Audie said, shrugging and letting her eyes catch Quinn's. "But it might be my mother."

"Tell me why you say that," Quinn immediately asked.

"Well, because that's how my mother was. My dad used to call her a human doing, not a human being. She got very pissed off at that."

Quinn nodded and leaned toward her. "Audie. Stanny-O and I need to talk with you about your case, and I need you to keep an open mind, all right?"

She ran a nervous hand through her hair and shrugged. "Sure. What?"

Quinn watched Stanny-O place the latest letter in a manila envelope and fill out an Illinois State Police crime lab form. Then he turned back to Audie and saw her smile turn to a frown.

"Weneed your help," he said softly. "We need to know what's in your gut about these letters, Audie."

She blinked at him and squirmed uncomfortably in her chair.

"Whose voice is that right there?" Quinn pointed to the big envelope Stanny-O now held in his hands. "When you close your eyes and hear those words… who do you picture saying them? Who talks like that, Audie?"

She sat perfectly still, but her eyes were wild and going back and forth from Stanny-O to Quinn. She shook her head.

"You can tell me, lassie."

She slammed her eyes shut and let her shoulders sag. After last night, she would tell this man anything.

"I go back and forth with this every day and I still can't figure it out," she whispered, returning her gaze to Quinn. "Sometimes I think I hear Drew. I wish to God I didn't. But some letters-like this one-sound just like him when hegets started on something. But then I tell myself Tim Burke is probably doing this, not Drew, but the letters just don't sound like Tim! None of them do!"

Audie frowned and shook her head. "I honestly don't know what to tell you."

Quinn reached for both of her hands and she grabbed on. The simple touch made his pulse race. "Unfortunately, we don't always know people as well as we think we do. Stanny and I see it all the time in this job." He stroked his fingers over the smooth top of her hand.

"Fine," she said. "Then let's just say it is Tim Burke, because I hate myself for even thinking it might be Drew, you know?" She shook her head, miserable. "Drew is my brother."

"And you told me yourself that you're strangers to each other," Quinn said, holding her gaze. "We're going to have to talk with him again. And I need to ask you about something else."

"OK."

"Can you think of any reason why Drew would want to hurt your mother?"

"What?!" Audie ripped her hands from Quinn's and stood up. "Are you trying to tell me-" She lowered her voice to a whisper and caught Stanny-O's eye."Are you guys telling me you think Drew killed our mother?"

"Look. Sit down a minute, all right?" Quinn pulled her chair closer to him and she sat, her bare knees touching his chinos. "There are basically two ways we can look at this, OK? One way is that these letters and your mother's death are somehow connected. Thinking of it that way, it could be either Drew or Timmy."

"But-"

"The other way is to see these incidents separately. Your mother was just a random mugging victim. Your letters are just the sick game of someone who's angry with you. In that scenario, it's more likely Timmy."

"All right."

"But either way, it seems we're right back with the same two suspects, so Stan and I were just talking about getting surveillance on both of them, just to be sure. We'll have eyeballs on them and eyeballs on you-and we'll catch 'em."

Audie looked confused and tired.

"I didn't mean to dump all this on you right now." Quinn's voice was so soft it was almost a whisper. "But what you said about this latest letter may help us. Thanks for bringing it in. Are you all right, sweet Audie?"

She nodded gently.

"Let me walk you to your car." Quinn helped her up, placed his palm flat against the small of her back, and led her out the front door as Stanny-O stared in silence, fascinated.

When they reached the Porsche, Quinn opened the door for her, but she didn't get inside. Instead, she turned toward him, so close that the tips of her breasts brushed against the front of his shirt.

"Hi, Detective." One corner of her plump mouth crooked up in a smile, causing Quinn's heart to shudder, because he now knew exactly what she felt like naked beneath him.

"Hi, Miss Adams." He took a quick look around the parking lot, then leaned into her for a kiss. With his lips against hers, he asked, "Have you recovered from yesterday?"

She chuckled and pulled back from him. "I'll never recover. Besides, some of it was today anyway. This morning, if you'll recall."

"Mmmm. I do recall." His mouth was back on hers and she felt his arms go around her waist.

"Quinn?"

"Yes?" His warm, soft lips had moved to the side of her neck, the base of her throat, and his fingers were at the top button of her blouse.

"Not here. Are you busy right now? Can you get away?"

His head jerked back and she watched him blink. "Are you asking me what I think you are?"

"Yes. I'm completely depraved."

"Jaysus, that's good to hear." Quinn shot her a crooked grin and let his eyes scan down below her face. "Look what I've done to you, Audie." He buttoned her blouse and ran his hands nervously through his hair. "Don't get me wrong-I'm glad you're depraved. But yes, I am busy right now. I'm also nearly brain-dead with lust for you, but I've got to get back to work."

She nodded.

"Wait. Where the hell is Rick Tinley and why isn't he with you?"

"He is here," Audie said, moving her eyes over her right shoulder. "He's in the police car right over there, waiting for me."

"Oh, great."

She watched Quinn acknowledge Tinley with a brusque wave before he sighed deeply. "Well, woman, we've just gone from rumor and innuendo right into the testimony of a credible eyewitness." He gave her a sheepish grin. "You going to be OK with people knowing you're hanging around with a South Side Irish cop?"

She fought back the urge to throw her arms around his neck and scream like a ninny. "I'll survive the shame somehow," she said with a wry smile. "But what about you? Is it all right if people know you're chasing some North Shore Protestant Cubs fan?"

He chuckled deep and low and ran his finger down the side of her face. "You're right. Let's deny everything."

Quinn's green eyes glowed in the morning light, and Audie heard herself sigh with contentment. Talk of murder, stalking, and betrayal notwithstanding, she didn't think she'd ever been as happy as she was right at that instant, with her heart in chaos and her vision filled with nothing but Stacey Quinn.

"What's your schedule today?"

Audie shrugged. "The usual. I've got a National Public Radio spot at noon. I'm going running with Tinley at two. Then I've got the TV segment at five."

"I'll change over with Tinley at the TV studio and we'll get some dinner."

She grinned at him. "Sounds good, Quinn."

"At my house."

"Sounds real good."

He leaned closer to her, and she had to close her eyes because he had so much power over her. He whispered roughly in her ear, "Do you think you'll have time in your schedule to be thoroughly ravaged this evening?"

She produced a tiny squeaking sound and turned her face away.

"I'll take that as a yes."

With Audie safely on her way, Quinn returned to the squad room, where Stanny-O sat, waiting.

"'Lassie'?" he inquired, slowly stroking his goatee and grinning. "'Sweet Audie'?" Stanny-O strolled over to the edge of his partner's desk and held up Audie's untouched coffee cup. "You know, she really should have had some of this, Stacey. The woman looked exhausted."

He stood in the shadows of the WBBS studio and watched her. Her head was tilted demurely and she glowed in the perfect pink jacket, discussing the secret to keeping a kitchen garbage disposal smelling clean and fresh.

It was something Quinn knew she didn't give a rat's ass about and never would, and it cracked him up.

He chuckled quietly, shoved his hands in his pants pockets, and wondered if he was already totally, irrevocably, in love with Autumn Adams.

There she was under the studio lights-everything he needed and nothing he'd ever imagined, all rolled up into one gorgeous package.

He could see the peek of her sweat socks and running shoes behind the long anchor desk and watched as she nervously tapped one foot against the floor. Quinn's gut twisted. She was his. This disorganized, accident-prone lapsed Presbyterian was all his, and he could hardly believe his good fortune.

"And as always, thank you, viewers, for another wonderful week of handy comments and suggestions," she said.

Kyle Singer shot a dazzling smile into the camera. "And thank you, Homey Helen-we'll see you again next Monday. In the meantime, don't go away, Chicago -we'll be back with more news right after these messages."

Quinn watched onetime suspect Kyle Singer kiss Audie on the cheek as she unclipped her microphone. An hour with Kyle was all it had taken to convince Quinn and Stanny-O that he was harmless-and as gay as you could get. He had no interest in Audie beyond friendship.

Quinn watched her carefully step off the platform and chat with a producer, all Homey Helen from the waist up and all Autumn Adams from the waist down. Her legs looked long and strong and she stood casually with one hand on her hip-like a jock, Quinn thought.

In his reverie, he was nearly lulled into thinking Audie would make it across the studio without tripping. Then she turned abruptly, smashed into a production assistant, and grunted in surprise as they both went sprawling.

Quinn helped the women to their feet and walked Audie out through the lobby.

"If you keep this up, you're going to end up in a body cast."

"That ought to make things challenging for you."

"That's one challenge I don't think I want," he said.

"I warned you I was a spaz." She turned toward him as heopened the front door and smiled down at her. He was one fine-looking man, this Stacey Quinn, all neatly pressed and self-assured and grinning-and he was her man. He'd said so.

She'd felt it.

"Whaddya say we go home and freshen up my garbage disposal, sweet thing?"

Audie laughed hard and swung her arm lazily around his waist, feeling her stride match his down the sidewalk. He squeezed her shoulders.

"Wanna drive my Porsche?" She tossed him the keys and sidled over to the passenger door.

"You planning on taking your clothes off in the car again?"

"Nope. I can wait until we get to your place."

When they got to his place, Quinn handed her a cold beer and told her to relax out on the deck while he cooked. She did as she was told, realizing with a sigh that she could get used to this. She took down her hair, removed her jacket, kicked off her shoes and socks, and let her head sink back against the chair cushion.

The next thing she knew, Quinn was crouched in front of her, patting her knee.

"What?" She bolted to attention.

"Dinner's ready. You fell asleep. I think maybe I wore you outlast night."

"Oh." She blinked, trying to focus on Quinn, her eyes opening wide at the sight of the table. "What's this?"

"Dinner." When Quinn stood up, she saw he'd donned a bright green barbecue apron that read: "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling, You Know Something's Cookin'."

"Nice apron."

"Thanks."

He went around to the back of her chair and pushed her closer to the table, then pointed to the serving dishes.

"Grilled salmon with a warm dill sauce. Saffron basmati rice. Mixed green salad with blue cheese, pears, and caramelized almond vinaigrette. I hope you like it."

Audie was quiet for a long moment, trying to keep her mouth from hanging open. Then she looked at him casually spread out in his chair right next to her, in his apron, a satisfied grin on his face.

"You're incredible, Quinn. Thank you for this. You're the only man who's ever cooked for me."

He chuckled and began to help himself to large amounts of food. "I seem to be a lot of firsts for you, Audie." He didn't look at her. "I hope you're OK with that."

She just stared at him, still trying to wake up, still trying to put all this in perspective. He had no idea how true that statement was.

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, Stacey."

One corner of his mouth curled up in delight. "It's my pleasure."

Audie served herself some of everything and thought about that statement. "It really is, isn't it? You get pleasure out of cooking and doing things around the house, don't you?"

"Yes." Quinn was chewing and obviously enjoying the fruits of his labors. "My mother taught me to cook. She taught me to take pride in making things organized and clean so that people could be at ease and happy in our home-you know, hospitality. I think that's why I need to have things in order before I feel freeto enjoy myself."

Audie closed her eyes in pure bliss. "My God, Quinn. This is delicious."

"Thank you."

"So." She took a sip of white wine. "Hypothetical situation here. Let's say we're done having this delicious meal and we go into your messy kitchen, but I start taking off my clothes right in front of the dishwasher."

Quinn raised his eyebrows. "This is purely hypothetical, of course."

"Of course. So, would you just walk around me to load the dirty dishes or could you let everything sit while you make wild passionate love to me?"

Quinn chewed and narrowed his eyes at her. "How much time would that take, exactly?"

"So it would bug you."

"Yes, it would bug me." He took another mouthful. "I take it that kind of thing wouldn't bother you much."

Audie giggled. "Well, first off, I don't cook. You realize I don't cook, don't you?"

Quinn raised one eyebrow. "I saw the penicillin ranch in your refrigerator, woman."

She snickered. "Oh, yeah, there's that. But even if I did cook, I could easily leave the kitchen till the morning if you werestanding naked in front of my dishwasher."

"This is good to know," he said, taking another bite of salad. "It may ease your mind to know we'll never face that dilemma, because I always clean as I cook."

Audie's head popped up. "Huh?"

"Clean as I go along. I wash what I can while the food cooks and soak the rest after I serve. I put the utensils and measuring cups in the dishwasher. I clean off the counter. That way, when the meal's over, it only takes a few minutes and I can go enjoy myself with a clear conscience."

Audie stared at him. "Wow-I think I read about that in a Homey Helen column once."

Quinn laughed and enjoyed watching her eat for a moment. "I'm just curious, Audie, and I don't want to piss you off, but didn't any of this stuff ever rub off on you? I mean, didn't you ever see your mother do any of this around the house?"

Audie went very still, and Quinn wanted to kick himself for asking that. He didn't want her to be sad tonight. He wanted her to relax and have a good time.

She put her fork down and turned to him. "The truth is Helen didn't have much timefor me, even before she and Marjorie started the column. Everything had to be just so-the meals, decorating, cleaning, entertaining my dad's business partners-I always felt like I was in the way.

"Then when she started the column, she hired Mrs. Splawiniski to cook and a whole parade of cleaning ladies to do everything else, and I don't think my mother ever set foot in our kitchen again unless it was to oversee the latest remodeling project or give instructions to the caterers."

Quinn stopped chewing and stared at her.

"So the answer is no. My mother never taught me to cook and never showed me how to make people feel welcome because she didn't have the time-she was too busy telling the rest of the world how it was supposed to be done."

She picked up her fork again and took another bite of fish. "This has got to be the most delicious thing I've ever tasted in my life."

"Was there anything at all you liked about your mother?"

Audie stilled again, then shrugged. "I admired her for being a successful businesswoman. I admired her going for what she wanted in life."

Quinn leaned back in his chair and studied her. Though he thought he knew her fairly well by now, the initial question he had about Autumn Adams was still the one he couldn't answer-why didn't she just bag the Homey Helen routine and do what made her happy? Why didn't she go for what she wanted in her life?

"I've decided I'm not going to sign the syndication renewal, Quinn." She looked up at him, her toffee-brown eyes wide and hopeful. "I've decided to quit the column and try to go back to the Uptown Alternative School. What do you think?"

Quinn reached over for her hands and held them between his. "I think that's great."

"Really?"

"Really. I've been sitting here trying to figure out why the hell you haven't done it sooner."

Audie laughed softly. "Because I've been a wimp and a fool, Stacey."

"That's not-"

"It's true. I think I've been spending the last year trying to earn the love of a dead woman. Pretty pathetic, huh?"

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, it is pretty sorry."

"I meant I'm sorry you had to go through that." Quinn stroked her hands gently. "So why now? Is it the letters that made you finally decide?"

"No." She looked right at him. "It was you."

Quinn blinked his eyes as if he'd heard wrong, and his hands quieted. "Me? How do you figure?"

She wasn't sure if this was the time to say this. She wasn't sure if there would ever be a right time, because this was going to be another one of those firsts Quinn had mentioned.

"Because being with you these last few weeks has reminded me what it feels like to be happy. Now I want more, and I can tell you that being Homey Helen isn't the way to get it."

Quinn was watching her carefully, his eyes focused on her face, and Audie knew he was waiting for her to continue.

"And I realize that nothing I do is ever going to make her love me, because she's gone. If I want to be loved, I think I should stick with living people. The odds are better."

He pulled on her wrists. "Come here to me."

"The kitchen's not clean."

She landed with a thud against his chest, and his deep laughter rumbled through her. He leaned her back into the crook of his arm and kissed her, pressed her close, and he tasted like caramelized vinaigrette and sweet lust, and Audie was powerless against the slam of desire she felt for him.

"How much happiness and love do you think you can stand, woman?" His lips were on her throat and his hands were pulling her silk shell from the waistband of her running shorts.

"I couldn't begin to tell you, Quinn," she said through the giggles. "We'll just have to experiment." She began unbuttoning his shirt.

"I thought you said I was the most aggravating man you ever met in your life. So how can I make you happy?" His hands were sliding up and down the front of her blouse, and her nipples stiffened with each pass of his palms. He leaned forward and began to nibble at her through the slippery fabric, his mouth leaving little wet marks all over the front of her.

"Oh, God, that was weeks ago-now you just make me completely insane." She gasped. "Especially when you do that."

"We're going inside, Homey." Quinn stood up from the chair with Audie still attached to his lap and hurled open the kitchen door. She assumed they were headed for the bedroom, but she was wrong. Quinn set her down on the kitchen counter, right over the built-in dishwasher, right next to the sink full of soaking pots and pans.

"Here's another good reason to clean off the counter as you go," he said.

Audie started laughing, but Quinn's mouth was on hers and, as it often was with him, the line between laughter and bone-melting pleasure blurred. With him, they almost seemed to be the same thing.

"God, what are you doing, Quinn?" His hands were at her hips and he was pulling her running shorts and underwear out from under her.

"I want you naked in front of my dishwasher."

"I'm on top of the dishwasher."

"Same diff."Heyanked the blouse over her head, then the bra.

By the time he grabbed her legs and hooked them over his shoulders, his eyes were drilling into hers and his smile had grown completely wicked. Audie was nearly hyperventilating.

"How about whipped cream? Damn, I don't have any. Hold on."

"What do you have?" It occurred to Audie how bizarre it was to be chatting in this position, naked, sitting on top of a dishwasher, her legs flung over the shoulders of a man in an apron.

"How about some honey, honey?"

"Honey?" Audie let her head fall back because what she was imagining made her brain too heavy to hold upright. Then she felt him shift in front of her, heard him groan. She looked up, and he was opening the cabinet directly overhead. "Perfect."

Next, it occurred to her that despite the fact that she was thirty years old, she was about to have another first.

He crooked his arms beneath her legs and unscrewed the lid to the honey jar. She closed her eyes. Then she heard the utensil drawer slide out to her left and heard him grumbling as hesearched for something. A melon bailer? A garlic press? She tried not to think about it.

"Now we're cookin' with gas," Quinn muttered in his gravelly voice. Audie opened her eyes to see him dip a little wooden drizzler into the jar until it was heavy with slow-dripping honey.

He was enjoying this-she could tell by the glint in his eye-and he leaned closer to her and whispered, "Say 'Ahhhh.'"

Audie was trembling, but she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue and the honey was cool and sweet and sticky inside her mouth. Then Quinn was there-hot and slippery and sharing it with her-and she released herself to the heat and the taste and the licking and sucking and swallowing and she realized she'd never see a jar of honey quite the same way ever again.

"You taste like sex and candy," Quinn said, pulling back. "And I'm going to take bites out of you everywhere if that's all right with you."

Audie nodded, running her tongue over the sticky outside of her lips, trying not to shake too much.

"Are you cold?" Quinn put down the honey and Audie realized he was about to lower her legs-which was something she definitely did not want him to do-so she locked her ankles behind his neck and pulled him closer.

"I'm not cold, Quinn. I'm very, very hot, and I want to be your dessert."

Quinn's eyes fastened on hers and his shoulders started to shake. "You really are depraved."

"So arrest me." She loosened her grip on him and leaned back on her elbows.

Quinn picked up the honey again, still laughing, and began drizzling little golden puddles on her deep rose nipples. "Where have you been all my life, woman?" He low ered his head and brought his lips to her sticky, puckered flesh.

"I think I've been waiting for you to find me, Quinn," she breathed. "To find me and pour honey on me until I come all over your countertop."

The vibration of his deep chuckle sent little buzzing streaks of heat through her breasts right down to the hot spot between her legs. She watched Quinn's mouth on her, his honeyed tongue gliding out from his smile to lick at her, and she trembled again.

"You're yummy," he murmured, pulling one nipple into his mouth and biting her softly. When she moaned, he did the same to the other nipple, then drew wide circles around her breasts with his tongue, eventually coming back to her mouth, hot and wet and sweet.

His hands suddenly reached under her bottom to pull her closer to the edge of the counter. He put his lips to her ear.

"Audie, baby, come here to me," he whispered, and it was his voice again, his voice and the simple things he said, that was pure sex to her, that made her take the leap from sensible woman to anything Quinn wanted her to be.

As the honey dribbled down into the curls between her legs and trickled deep into the lips of her vulva, she wondered if she'd ever feel safe enough to tell Quinn how much power he had over her. How much she wanted him.

Then she stopped wondering anything at all, because what he was doing was so good, so good, and his tongue was hot and firm, then barely a whisper, then long and slow and all over her.

"Oh, God, this is nice," Quinn thought he heard her say, but the blood thundered in his head so loud that he was nearly deaf. That was fine, because he didn't need his ears for what he was doing right now-all he needed was his tongue and his lips and his teeth and the searing hot place at the center of Audie, pressed up to him.

Hepulled her up higher and angled her to his mouth, gripping her around the waist. She was sweet, so sweet, and he used his fingers to spread her wide and put one finger deep inside her, then two, and felt how slick and swollen this woman was and knew he would do anything for her, anything she wanted.

She suddenly clutched and hardened around his fingers and against his mouth. She let out a piercing cry that gave him goosebumps and she was calling his name and he licked into her, pushed his fingers into her deeper, faster, and her arms flailed out to her sides and the spice rack crashed to the stove in an explosion of broken glass and a pungent blast of rosemary, curry powder, and cream of tartar all spewed out in an unalphabetized mess.

"I'm so sorry!" Audie tried to sit up, tried to breathe, but Quinn lifted her off the counter and spun around.

"Is there glass on you?"

Audie could barely focus on his words. Her body was still spinning and clutching, and for a second she couldn't remember why she was naked.

Then she was being carried to the living room against Quinn's bright green apron and she wanted his clothes off, wanted to touch his skin, wanted to feel him against her all hot and smooth and strong.

He put her down in front of one of the big overstuffed chairs and brushed his hands over her skin, and Audie finally came out of her fog.

"Quinn." She grabbed him by the shoulders. "I'm fine and there isn't any glass on me. I'm so sorry I did that."

He stopped and stared at her, tasting her in his mouth and realizing he was hard as steel and wanted her to sit on him-and he didn't give a shit about his spice rack or the dirty dishes.

He ripped off his clothes and made himself comfortable in the chair, his feet on the floor and his erection pointed toward the ceiling.

"I just had a great idea," he said, grinning.

Audie walked toward him slowly, scanning all of his long, lean muscle, his blatant arousal, and the startlingly beautiful face.

"I bet it's the same idea I have," she whispered.

She climbed up on his lap, straddled his thighs, and positioned herself right above him. She leaned down to kiss him softly, then nibbled on his jawline and bit the side of his neck.

"Will you tell me your idea first, Quinn?" she breathed into his ear.

She got what she wanted-the low rumble of his laugh moved through her blood and bone, and she knew she was right where she was supposed to be.

"My idea was I fuck you blind," he said.

She pulled back in mock disappointment. "But I wanted to do that to you," she pouted.

"I'm flexible."

Audie watched the change in his expression as she slid onto him just enough to capture the big head of his penis. She waited, feeling him throb inside her, feeling her body kiss and squeeze him, seeing how he fought the urge to thrust all the way into her.

He was gorgeous. He was sweet to her. And it was magic to watch the surprise and joy on his face when she eased down very slow and took him in very deep.

"I'm so happy when I'm with you, Quinn," she sighed, seeing his grin spread.

Then she wiped the grin right off his face.