Testing the Limits. Kira Sinclair
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with fantasies of Jace coming to her in the middle of the night. That gorgeous, sweaty, hard body sliding against her, into her, over her.
So she was awake early, groggy, grumpy and in desperate need of caffeine. Popping a pod into the coffee maker, she waited for the sweet, decadent nectar of the gods to flow through and into her cup. Less than sixty seconds later, the bitter scent of coffee laced with cinnamon, vanilla and caramel wafted up to her.
Taking a deep breath, Quinn closed her eyes and savored it for several seconds before letting the air out on a long, streaming sigh. Contentment settled across her shoulders. Cradling the hot mug in her hands, Quinn brought it close to her mouth but didn’t drink. She’d learned not to sip unless she wanted to fight a burned tongue all day.
She waited, simply standing and staring down into the milky brown mixture in her cup.
This was her favorite time of day. Before the crazy started. Those first few easy moments. They never lasted long enough, so she’d learned to enjoy them when she had them.
Today the peace was shattered by the light shuffle of feet. Just as she had two days ago, she looked up to find Jace framed in the doorway to her kitchen, his arms stretched overhead and fingers curled around the door frame.
Jace’s biceps strained the edge of the dark gray T-shirt with the print so faded she couldn’t quite make out what it once said. The hem, worn so thin it was practically transparent, rode up a couple of inches to show a strip of darkly tanned skin.
He watched her with sleepy, mesmerizing eyes. Quinn took a quick sip of coffee—it was either that or blurt out something inappropriate—but she paid for the cover-up by scalding her tongue.
Yelping, she turned and spit the mouthful into the sink behind her. Jace shook his head and grumbled something about being careful before scooting past her. He didn’t ask where her coffee cups were, just opened the right cupboard and pulled one down. He chose a pod—something bold and dark—and popped it into the machine. Reaching around her, he opened the fridge and pulled out her carton of milk. She never would have taken him for a milk guy.
What also surprised her was how easy he was in her kitchen, as if he’d spent lots of time there. She could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d been inside her home in the past two years. At least, with her here. It was obvious from his stint mowing her lawn the other day, and his helping himself to her kitchen, that this wasn’t a one-time occurrence.
It annoyed her, but it also sent warmth splashing through her body. Which only increased her annoyance—with herself.
His coffee fixed the way he liked, Jace turned to face her, propping his lean hips against the counter. Crossing one bare ankle over the other, he studied her over the rim of his cup, his mouth pursed, a steady stream of air gusting out across the surface of his cup.
Dropping her gaze, Quinn took another tentative sip. One burn was more than enough for today.
They stood there in her kitchen, silently drinking. The air, heavy and oppressive, pushed in on her. It tightened her shoulders and made her skin tingle and itch.
One minute stretched into three and then five. She wanted to fill the silence, but had no idea what to say. So she just kept her mouth filled with swallow after swallow. Every few seconds her eyes would stray to him, not his gaze, but the rest of him. The long pants that clung to his hips and thighs. The curl of dark black hair over his ear. His strong fingers wrapped around the curved handle of his cup. Her cup.
Finally, when she thought she couldn’t handle the tension for one second more, he broke the silence. “What are your plans for today?”
Flitting her eyes up to his, she took in the way he watched her and had to look away again. “Grocery shopping, a spin class. I’d like to run by the home-improvement store. I’ve been wanting to repaint the den for a while and the sink in the powder room has been dripping.”
“Okay, just let me grab a shower and we can go whenever you’re ready.”
Shaking her head, she said, “You don’t have to do that, Jace. It’ll be boring as hell for you.”
“It won’t, but that’s beside the point.”
“Don’t you have something more important to do?”
“Until I’m satisfied you’re not in any danger, you are my number one priority. I’m not going anywhere, Quinn, so you might as well get used to having me around.”
That was the problem. She’d been struggling against inappropriate feelings toward him for a long time. The only thing that had kept the urges in check was the infrequency of their contact...and the certainty he wasn’t interested.
Having him constantly in her personal space, sleeping in her home and drinking her coffee...
She could get used to having him around. Quite easily. And that would be bad.
Jace and his parents were important to her. She didn’t have a family of her own, not really. Her parents were gone. She and her sister weren’t close and never had been. Tabby was seven years older than she was and had been in her freshman year at college when their parents died. Quinn had been raised by her grandmother.
There were other kids of all ages and backgrounds who’d revolved through the early years of Quinn’s life. She’d always loved that her parents took in foster children, sharing their love and kindness with those who needed it most. But it had been years since she’d heard from any of those children.
She hadn’t realized just how lonely she’d become until Michael’s parents had made her part of their family. She didn’t want to lose that simply because she couldn’t control her baser urges.
A cup clattered into the sink, jolting Quinn from the dark turn of her thoughts. “I’m going to shower.” Jace was halfway across the room before his body froze. Slowly, he turned back to her, pinning her in place with those clear blue eyes. He studied her for several seconds, his head cocked to the side. “Do not leave the house without me.”
The thought hadn’t even occurred to her, which made her a little angry with herself. But now that he’d mentioned it....
As if he could read the thoughts flitting across her mind, his voice dropped down into a low rumble. “I’m serious, Quinn. If I have to chase after you neither of us is going to be happy about it.”
Sighing, she nodded. Jace hesitated for a few more seconds, his gaze scouring her until he was apparently satisfied with what he saw. Quinn stood in the kitchen after he’d left, her body electrified and restless and unable to cope. But the sound of water rushing through the pipes galvanized her.
The last thing she needed was to stand here with her mouth open as visions of water flowing over Jace’s naked body filled her mind.
Getting as far away from that end of the house as possible, she darted into the den. Popping open the drapes so sunlight could flood inside, she noticed several of the neighborhood boys in the yard between her house and the neighbor’s, with a baseball and a bat.
A small smile curved her lips. The boys next door were nice, always yelling a hello whenever they saw her outside.
She’d just turned away, planning on filling the next few minutes with a brilliant con artist and his FBI handler on a recorded episode of White Collar when a loud crash startled her.
The scream that erupted from her throat was pure reaction. Glass shattered, tinkling to the floor in a shower of shards. A baseball bounced twice on laminate and then rolled. Loud, apologetic and panicked voices sounded outside her window. “Ms. Keller, we’re so sorry! We’ll pay for the window, promise.”
On the other side of the window a handful of wide-eyed faces appeared. They were obviously alarmed by what had happened. But after the initial kick of apprehension and stutter of her heart, Quinn settled back. There were worse things in the world than a broken window.
“No worries, boys. It was an accident.”
Walking