All the Right Places (RILEY O'BRIEN & CO #1) Read online

  He exhaled gustily. “I’m relieved. This festival would be a huge waste of time if you didn’t eat chocolate.”

  She smiled. “I don’t eat chocolate. I devour it.”

  Her emphasis on the word “devour” made his skin feel tight and hot. Forget chocolate. He wanted to devour her.

  • • •

  Amelia took a big bite of molten lava cake. Gooey chocolate oozed over the spoon, and she had to catch it on her tongue to keep it from dripping down her chin and onto her shirt.

  As the rich, dark flavor hit her taste buds, she closed her eyes and moaned, long and loud. She couldn’t help it. The cake was orgasmically delicious.

  She heard Quinn’s muffled laughter, and she opened her eyes. He was enjoying his own mouthful of lava cake, his cheeks resembling a chipmunk’s, and he already had another big bite loaded on his spoon.

  “I’m glad we decided not to share this lava cake because we would have had a throw-down over who got the most bites,” she joked.

  He nodded vigorously in agreement and shoved another bite in his mouth. This time he was the one who closed his eyes and moaned. She was entranced by the expression on his face. Did he look like that when he climaxed?

  She had a hard time looking away, and she was snared in his gaze when he opened his dark blue eyes and stared right at her. He licked his lips.

  “What’s next?”

  She looked around. They’d visited several tents, and she was glad she had agreed to stay and spend the day with Quinn.

  She enjoyed Quinn’s company way too much. He was funny, smart, and surprisingly insightful. And despite his well-developed ego, he was also self-aware enough to laugh at himself. Perhaps more important, she sensed an innate goodness in him, and after her childhood, she was adept at identifying both ends of the spectrum.

  “Do you still have room for more?”

  He chuckled. “I always have room for more chocolate.”

  She nodded in agreement. Because each tasting was pretty small, she had yet to have her fill of treats.

  “Cupcakes,” she suggested, pointing to a tent that had a pink-and-white-striped awning. “Babycakes” was written in brown script across it.

  His eyes lit up. “Babycakes has the best cupcakes in town.”

  They got rid of their empty containers and headed toward the tent. Apparently everyone at the festival agreed with Quinn because the line was long.

  Quinn eyed the throng of people with a frown. “Do you want to wait?”

  “You said they’re the best in town. Are they worth waiting for?”

  He jerked his head toward her, an arrested expression on his face. “There are only a few things I’m willing to wait for.”

  She felt like she was missing something. “Okay. But is Babycakes one of those things?”

  He cleared his throat. “Sure, we can wait.”

  They took their place in line, and there were so many people crammed in the small space that she and Quinn touched from shoulder to hip. His heat radiated through her clothes, and she wanted to move away, but there was nowhere to go.

  The line moved forward, and the person behind Amelia bumped into her. When she stumbled slightly, Quinn moved closer to her, sliding his arm around her waist and resting his hand on her hip.

  Her chest tightened, and she started to sweat. She couldn’t handle being this close to him without thinking about his mouth and hands on her body. She already thought about it too much.

  The line was noisy, and he leaned down so she could hear him. His breath was hot on her ear, and she shivered.

  “What kind of cupcake do you want? They have chocolate raspberry and chocolate peanut butter.”

  She didn’t want a cupcake. She wanted Quinn.

  “They both sound good. I don’t know.”

  He caressed her hip. What happened to his promise to keep his hands to himself?!

  “How about you get one flavor, and I’ll get the other, and we’ll share?”

  She nodded. “That sounds fine,” she said, lying through her teeth. She didn’t want to share his cupcake, unless “cupcake” was a code word for “penis.”

  Finally, they reached the counter, and he placed their order. Mercifully, he had to remove his hand from her hip to grab the cupcakes, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Passing one of the cupcakes to her, he returned his hand to the small of her back to move her in front of him. She wondered if he was this protective and possessive with all the women he dated.

  She mentally slapped herself. We aren’t dating. This isn’t a date.

  They found a quiet place between two tents to enjoy their treats. The small space was remarkably private despite the fact that it was in the middle of the festival, and the noise from the crowd was muted.

  Amelia lifted her hand so she could appreciate the delectable sight of her cupcake. It covered her palm with a swirl of chocolate icing at least three inches on top. Quinn’s was identical.

  “Which one do I have?”

  “I don’t know.” He smiled widely. “I guess it will be a surprise.”

  She peeled the wrapper from the side of the cupcake. “Please tell me you got some napkins.”

  He nodded before taking a bite of his cupcake, smearing icing all over his upper lip. She took a bite of her own cupcake and got a bit of icing on her nose.

  She savored the flavors creating a symphony in her mouth. She definitely had the chocolate peanut butter cupcake, and the mix of nutty goodness and rich chocolate was delicious. Grabbing a napkin in his free hand, he swiped the icing off her nose.

  “Thanks. Eating cupcakes is messy business.”

  He mumbled a reply around a mouthful of cupcake, and she pointed to his lips. “You have icing all over you.”

  He licked his lips before rubbing the napkin across his mouth. “Is it gone?”

  She nodded and held out her hand for his cupcake. He frowned.

  “What?”

  “You said we were going to share, and I want to try the chocolate raspberry.”

  He eyed her suspiciously. “Is your cupcake not good? Is that why you want mine?”

  “Of course it’s good. I just want a bite. I’m not going to eat both of them.”

  He held out his cupcake but snatched it back when she reached for it. “No, I’m going to hold on to it.”

  She scowled. “Don’t be so selfish.”

  He laughed. “I’m not being selfish, Juice. I’m being smart.” He offered his cupcake. “Here, take a bite.”

  “You better not smash it in my face,” she warned him.

  “This isn’t our wedding,” he shot back, freezing when he realized what he’d said.

  His eyes widened, but before he could say anything else, she grabbed his wrist and took a huge bite of his cupcake. “Oh, this is so much better than mine,” she moaned, unconcerned with the fact that she was talking with her mouth full.

  Quinn stared at her unblinkingly as she swallowed. She felt icing all over her lips, and she looked for the napkin that had been in his hand, but it was gone.

  “You look like a clown with a big brown mouth and a curly red wig,” he said, cocking his head to the side.

  She was torn between mirth and indignation. “That’s so rude.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, laughing softly. “But so true.”

  He reached out to wipe some icing from her upper lip and brought his thumb to his mouth to lick it off. She couldn’t pull her eyes from his mouth, and her stomach turned warm and liquid.

  Quinn repeated the movement, slower this time, dragging his thumb against her lower lip before sucking the icing off his finger. She jerked her attention from his mouth and met his eyes. The desire burning in his blue gaze made her knees tremble and her heart pound.

  Dropping his cupcake to the ground, he s
haped her face with his palms. “You taste better than anything we’ve had here today.” He leaned forward. “Let me have another taste,” he whispered against her mouth before stroking his tongue along the seam of her lips.

  She opened to him, and he plunged his tongue inside her mouth. Letting go of her own cupcake, she fisted his shirt and sucked on his tongue. His chest was hard and hot, and she wanted to tear open his buttons and run her hands all over him.

  “You’re sweeter than sugar,” he rasped.

  He gave her several deep kisses, sucking and licking at her lips and tongue until she panted. He drew back, his chest heaving.

  “You promised to keep your hands and your mouth to yourself,” she murmured, uncertain if the reminder was for Quinn or herself.

  He leaned his forehead against hers. “I know,” he replied, but he didn’t apologize.

  As Quinn wrapped his arms around her, she dropped her head to his chest. He rubbed her back with his big hands, and the soothing motion relaxed them enough for their breathing to return to normal.

  Nuzzling her hair, he kissed the top of her head. She stood within his embrace, feeling a bewildering mix of peace and arousal. Somehow she knew that she would never feel this way about anyone else. She had never known anyone like him.

  One moment he embodied the classic bad boy, sexy and intense, and the next, he was the proverbial golden boy, easygoing and kindhearted. She found the contrast fascinating and addicting.

  And irresistible.

  She wanted to be with Quinn, and she finally gave herself permission to take what she wanted. She told herself it would be okay. She told herself she would be okay no matter what happened.

  Maybe he would embrace the work she was doing for Teagan. Maybe he wouldn’t feel she’d gone behind his back. Maybe her heart wouldn’t end up broken and in pieces under his booted feet.

  Maybe. And in this moment, maybe was good enough.

  She gave a gentle push to his chest so he’d loosen his hold. He was still close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes.

  “Do you live near here?”

  His gaze sharpened, and he nodded slowly. “Pretty close. Just a few miles away.”

  “I’d like to see where you live.”

  Chapter 21

  Amelia stood in Quinn’s large living area, trying not to look as awkward as she felt. She had a hard time dealing with spur-of-the-moment decisions, and even though she had fantasized about him, coming back to his house definitely had not been premeditated.

  She turned in a slow circle to get a good look at Quinn’s personal space. It wasn’t anything like she had expected.

  For one thing, he lived in a house, and she had been sure he was a high-rise condo kind of guy. Unsurprisingly, the fact that she’d been wrong about his living arrangements made her feel even less certain about getting naked with him.

  His Victorian was gorgeously maintained, although very obviously lived in. Although he was a bachelor, his house lacked the single-guy vibe. Instead it felt comfortable and cozy, and under different circumstances, she would have found the space relaxing and inviting.

  She tensed when Quinn moved to stand in front of her. He waited, still and silent, until she met his gaze. He extended his hand toward her face, and she flinched in nervousness. Halting mid-motion, he let his hand fall back to his side and gazed deeply into her eyes.

  She was so annoyed with herself. She hadn’t been this anxious when she’d been a virgin or when she’d had sex with Neal, the guitar player with the talented fingers.

  She knew she was being stupid. She wasn’t afraid of Quinn, yet she acted as if he were a Viking who had gathered forces to raid her village. She laughed nervously when she realized the analogy wasn’t too far off, although her “village” was between her legs.

  A high-pitched giggle emerged from her mouth, and Quinn nodded as if he agreed with someone. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hand through his hair.

  “Juice, I think we should go and grab some dinner. Do you like Chinese? There’s a pretty good place just down the street. Their moo shu pork is really tasty.”

  Moo shu pork? He wants moo shu pork?

  When she didn’t answer, he sighed loudly and reached out to wrap a big hand around the back of her neck. It was so hot against her clammy skin that she shivered.

  She let her head drop forward against his chest, and he kneaded the tight muscles of her neck for several moments before speaking. “Amelia . . . Sweetheart, you asked to see my house, and now you’ve seen it. We don’t have to do anything else. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  His voice was quiet, soothing. She could hear his heartbeat, a steady thump that proved he was much calmer than she was. She didn’t know if that made her feel relieved or not. At the festival, she’d thought he was as turned on as she was.

  Why am I the only one who’s nervous?

  She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he stiffened slightly, briefly halting the neck massage before resuming the gentle motion. He settled his other hand on her lower back just above her butt, a possessive and protective action that made the knots in her stomach loosen.

  “If you don’t like moo shu pork, we can get Mongolian beef or sweet-and-sour chicken.”

  Pulling back, she looked up into his face. His eyes were dark and serious, not even a tiny glint of humor.

  “You want to go out to eat right now?” she asked incredulously.

  He frowned. “No. There are a lot of things I want to do instead of eating Chinese food.” He paused meaningfully, his voice deepening. “I want to strip you naked and put my hands and mouth all over your body. I want to be so deep inside you that you scream my name until your voice is gone.”

  His voice faded to a husky whisper. “I want to make you come so many times you forget who you are and where you are. I want to take you over and over until the pleasure feels like pain.”

  His raspy voice and raw words sent a flood of lava-like desire through her. She swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat so she could respond, but he stepped back, putting more space between them.

  Holding out his hands, palms up, he shrugged his shoulders. “But I’m trying to be a decent guy here, Juice. I don’t think you’re ready for this. And I don’t want you to regret it.” He pointed to himself with his thumb. “Because I won’t regret it. And I’ll probably want to do it, and you, as often as possible.”

  When she didn’t respond, he continued. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  His honest words shocked her. She must have a poor opinion of men in general because she had expected him to be annoyed. She had been so sure he would try to persuade her to get naked, and she never imagined he, or any other guy, would be understanding.

  Apparently, he was willing to wait until she was ready, despite the fact that he obviously was raring to go. How astonishing.

  How wonderful.

  His attitude made her want him even more. And interestingly, his restraint convinced her that she wasn’t making a mistake.

  “I understand,” she finally said. “But you’re wrong.”

  His dark eyebrows rose. “About what?”

  “You said I’ve seen your house, and that’s not entirely accurate, is it? I’ve only seen part of your house. I haven’t seen your bedroom.”

  He gazed at her intently before his lips quirked in a slow, sexy smile. His eyes heated, and he closed the space between them until they touched. Reaching out, he gently rubbed her bottom lip with his thumb.

  “That was clearly an oversight on my part.”

  “Clearly,” she agreed. “Do you plan to address it?”

  “Yes. Immediately, in fact.”

  Tilting his head toward the staircase, he extended his hand to her. She took it, allowing him to lead her up the hardwood stairs, which were slick and shiny from
decades of foot traffic.

  He brought her to the door at the end of the hallway and ushered her in. She let her gaze wander around his bedroom. Decorated in shades of gray, it was almost monochromatic except for the clean lines of licorice-colored wood furniture.

  His king-sized bed was situated against the longest wall, its tall headboard inset with black leather panels. Two nightstands flanked the bed, each boasting a lamp with a clear glass base and gray shade. A seating area near the bay window on the far side of the room featured two tall-backed chairs upholstered in gray velvet, while a long dresser with an attached mirror occupied one wall.

  All in all, the room was masculine without being oppressive. And it would have been gorgeous if not for the fact that it was so messy.

  The bed was unmade, and the light gray sheets were tangled as if he hadn’t slept well. Or maybe he’d been with someone the night before. She shot a censuring look toward Quinn, and he laughed at the mix of disapproval and dismay she didn’t bother to hide.

  “I didn’t expect company,” he admitted.

  “If you’ve had company recently, then we need to change the sheets.”

  Her remark made him choke on his laughter. “What?” he sputtered.

  “You heard me.”

  Staring at her in disbelief, he shook his head. “I told you that I don’t have one-night stands. And I haven’t had company, as you so delicately put it, in a while.”

  She eyed him skeptically. How long was “a while”? She wanted to ask, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. She hadn’t been with anyone since Neal, and that had been more than a year ago.

  He frowned when she didn’t respond, and after a moment, he stalked back into the hallway. She heard a cabinet door open and slam shut before he returned to the room with a set of sheets identical to the ones on the bed.

  “While I’m changing the sheets, I want you to take off every piece of clothing you’re wearing,” he ordered as he made his way toward the bed. “The moment I finish, I am going to throw you on this bed, and you’re not going to get off of it for a good long while.”

  Pulling back the duvet-enclosed comforter with one hand, he tossed it over the footboard, his movements quick and economical. When he noticed she hadn’t moved, he dropped the stack of clean sheets on the bed and pointed at her.