Impulsively (Dante’s Nine MC #3)(37)
Author: Colleen Masters

“Holy shit. This is really happening,” I mutter, running my hands through my hair.

I’m going rogue. Little Quinn Collins is turning into a loose cannon. I grin, exhilarated by this turn of events. For too long, I’ve let life do with me what it will. Now, I’m finally snatching back the reins. And whatever happens, this sense of freedom—of purpose—is worth it. Even if Brooks is too angry about my deception to stay in my life, even if I never find anything on Bruno, even if I get seriously hurt in my quest for truth…this is still the right course.

And it feels damn good.

I slip out of my grubby pajama bottoms and lift my cotton tee over my head. Brooks is coming over here to make me feel better, and I want to be ready for him. I pull on a sexy barely-there black thong, a micro denim mini-skirt, and a tight black tank top that leaves plenty of my midriff exposed. My red hair falls across my shoulders and back, fanning out against my freckled skin. I smile to myself, remembering how fond Brooks has become of those very freckles.

Suited up to be stripped down, I snag two more beers from the fridge and settle onto the couch. But the second that my butt hits the sofa, my ears prick up at the low roar of an approaching motorcycle engine. My heart is in my throat as a flash of headlights sweeps across my front window. The sound of the engine peaks and cuts off, and I can’t help but race to the door. Tamping down my elated smile, I pull the door open and peer out into the night.

Brooks stands in my doorway, helmet tucked beneath his arm. He looks windblown and flushed, as excited as I am about this little rendezvous. His fist is raised to knock on the door, but he lets it drop as he catches sight of me. I feel his eyes rake down the length of my body, dwelling on every dip and curve.

“If this is what you look like when you’re under the weather,” he grins, “I think we should take sick days more often.”

“I certainly wouldn’t say no to more house calls from you,” I reply, stepping aside to let him in.

Brooks runs a hand down my bare arm as he strides across the threshold and into my tiny apartment. He looks around the unadorned space as I shut the door tightly behind me, peering out the front window to make sure we’re not being watched. This is insane, I know. Inviting the target of the FBI’s investigation back to my safe house for a booty call. But after today, I don’t know if I give a damn about the FBI’s rules. I’m after the truth, here, not the story that’s convenient for the Bureau. Bruno may very well be orchestrating some nasty shit—why not recruit a new partner who’s well acquainted with playing dirty?

“It’s very, uh…” Brooks says, eyeing my threadbare couch.

“Spartan?” I offer, holding out a beer to him.

“Sure,” he laughs, snatching up the bottle.

An inquisitive meow rings out through the apartment as The Mayor pokes his head around the corner of the kitchen. His big eyes swing back and forth between Brooks and I. I swear to god, I think that cat is judging my life choices as he pads back into this shadows.

“You…have a cat,” Brooks observes.

“No crazy cat lady jokes,” I warn.

“I just would’ve pegged you for a dog person,” Brooks shrugs. He takes a step toward me, looking me up and down. “This place is not exactly what I expected. But I guess I should be used to surprises from you by now. Right, Red?”

“I’m afraid I’m only getting started with the surprises,” I whisper, laying my hands on the front of his cut.

“Hey,” he says, lifting my chin with his index finger, “I don’t want you thinking you have to keep things from me. I’ve got plenty of skeletons buried deep in my closet, too. I don’t do games, remember?”

“I remember,” I breathe, leaning into his powerful body, “I don’t want to play games either, Brooks. But I’m not used to being honest with the guys I like.”

“So you do like me, huh, Red?” he grins, running his hands through my hair.

“You know I do,” I smile back, wrapping my arms around his hard torso, “And that’s why I want to be honest with you. Totally honest.”

“Well. If I may be totally honest,” he growls, taking a swig of his beer and setting it down, “I can’t focus on being totally honest when you’re dressed to kill like that, Red. You look fucking incredible.”

“Oh, this?” I laugh, glancing down at my outfit, “I take it you like what you see?”

“I love what I see,” he says, letting his hands slide down over my ass. My pulse quickens at that word: love. But something far more primal than love is overriding my inner romantic. I set down my own beer and press my body to Brooks’.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I breathe, closing my eyes as his hands wander all over my body. Each inch of skin his touches lights up with sensation. “I need you, Brooks.”

“I know,” he growls, spinning my body around in his arms. He pulls me tightly against him, my back to his muscular chest. “I can feel you needing me from miles away, babe. I can feel it—‘cause I need you, too.”

“Brooks…wait,” I manage to say, as he takes my breasts in his hands, “I just have to tell you one thing, before—”

“Can’t it wait, Red?” he rasps, groaning with appreciation as he realizes I’m not wearing bra. His fingers pinch at my erect nipples, setting my head spinning.

“It’s just…I may be in trouble,” I gasp, letting my head fall back against his shoulder, “It may not be entirely safe to—”

“What are you talking about?” he says, lowering his lips to my throat.

“I’ve pissed someone off pretty badly,” I go on, my breath coming hard and fast as Brooks kisses along my neck, “he may being trying to hurt me.”

“Listen to me,” Brooks says, turning my face to his, “No one is going to hurt you, Keira. Not while I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“You can tell me all about what’s going on,” he says, sliding his hands down between my thighs, “just as soon as I’ve had you again. I can’t wait any longer.”

I lift my quivering arms, clasping my fingers behind Brook’s neck. My body stretches out against his, exposed and eager. He tugs my tiny denim skirt down over my hips, and I kick the flimsy garment away. My sex is wet and aching already, begging for his touch. Wrapping one strong arm around my waist, Brooks slips his spare hand between my legs from behind.