The Harder He Falls: 2 (So Inked) Read online

  Quin sighed and rolled his shoulders. The news about Mouse didn’t surprise him. He was a diva of a fighter but a good guy. Quin didn’t believe Mouse would leave him this close to a fight. There was also a lot of bad blood between Greg and Mouse. Plus, he was living at Quin’s fighter house, so the logistics were currently in his favor. Greg didn’t put his guys up like Quin did.

  “Thanks. There’s not a lot I can do about Greg, but it’s good to know it’s happening. I won’t mention you told me if I need to address it.”

  “Awesome.” Jacob’s shoulders dropped and he relaxed. “You don’t think Greg could be responsible for the locker room, do you?”

  Quin paused, rolling the thought around in his mind. “I can’t say, but maybe.”

  Jacob shook his head. “Makes me wonder if he’s part of it somehow.”

  Quin shrugged and stretched, lifting his arms above his head. “Shit if I know.”

  “You got a new tattoo?”

  Belatedly, he realized his mistake. “Yeah, it’s just the outline right now.”

  “That’s Kellie Nahm’s.” Jacob didn’t ask—one look and the flint edge was back in his gaze. It was the look that told Quin that in the next few years, the twenty-year-old kid would be a terror of a fighter.

  “Yes it is. She does good work.” He flexed his arm and glanced down at the lines wrapped around his arm.

  “Does she know who you are?”

  “She knows who I am, but does she know I own the gym? No.” The omission curdled his stomach. He hadn’t set out to keep the information from her; it just hadn’t come up. Or more correctly, he didn’t want to tell her.

  “That’s not a good way to get her support. Not that I’m anyone to tell you how to do things, but I know Kellie and her family.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got everything under control.”

  Jacob stared at him a moment longer before breaking eye contact first. The kid was good but he hadn’t been tempered enough yet.

  “Why don’t you go work with the guys on the floor? Watch those takedowns, you need to work on your footwork.”

  He waited for Jacob to nod and move off to join the other guys still working out. They had about an hour left before he would close up the gym, and after Jacob’s revelation, Quin was running on empty. Between dealing with the cops, normal gym stuff and trying to figure out how to smooth things over with Penny, he needed some time to relax.

  When he set out to start the gym and coaching on his own, he knew it would be work. But lately it was one thing after another, and he needed a respite. He sank into his desk chair, reached over to scratch his arm and stopped just in time. He patted the new lines on his skin instead. He’d stocked his desk drawer with some unscented, non-colored lotion and pulled that out to slather over the tattoo for good measure. After a week it was looking pretty good.

  Looking at the tattoo made him think of the artist. His experience with Kellie was memorable. He’d redeemed himself from his sowing wild oats days in the Marines, but he was still a man. She’d said they should consider what they had an arrangement, but he hadn’t taken her up on it and neither had she. Still, he was curious about her.

  He fished his phone out from the drawer and unlocked the keypad, ignoring the messages waiting in favor of pulling up Kellie’s number and typing out a quick text.

  What are you up to?

  He didn’t know if she would reply or not, but it was worth a shot.

  He made himself put the phone down and wake up the computer. One message caught his eye. He double-clicked it and scrolled down to an image drawn in crayon. Stick figures danced around each other in a circle. An arrow pointed to one and proclaimed it “Daddy!”

  Penny had taken Josephine to her in-laws for the weekend. The tentative plan was to meet up with them tomorrow night when they got back. It would be awkward as hell with Penny’s panties still in a twist, but he wasn’t an absent father. Their argument wouldn’t keep him from dropping by to see his kid.

  The phone at his elbow vibrated. Optimistic, he grabbed it and brought up the messages, bypassing the ones from the fighters and other people he didn’t want to talk to right now.

  Is this a booty call text?

  He sputtered and laughed, hearing her dry delivery in his head.

  No. Do you want it to be?

  He wanted her again, but he wouldn’t call her for sex. Blood rushed to his dick at the memory of her strength and the way she’d matched him in bed when they’d tussled.

  I don’t have patience for you to be an asshat. Yes or no.

  He drummed his finger on the desk.

  Depends. Don’t mean to be nosey, but have you been tested recently?

  I work around blood and needles. Regularly, like clockwork. And I’m on the Pill.

  Okay. My place? 10:30?

  He tapped out directions and sent those as well. The sleazy hotel wouldn’t be happening again. He could at least give the woman a bed with clean sheets that was guaranteed free of bedbugs. He distracted himself from waiting for her confirmation by checking his other messages.

  The message notification buzzed again. His pulse kicked up a notch as he accessed the conversation with Kellie. Her reply made him grin.

  * * * * *

  Kellie slid out of her Cube and squinted at the house. She double-checked the number against the text Quin had sent.

  Though she hadn’t known what to expect, she hadn’t been expecting this. The house was located in a moderately nice suburb, but the house itself wasn’t what she would have called nice. The yard was packed dirt and the siding old and cracked. Even in the darkness she could tell the roof needed work. With a lot of TLC, the house could be stunning. It was a modest two-story ranch style with a wraparound porch that was missing the railing in a few places. Still, she wasn’t here to evaluate the man and his property for a long-term commitment; it was a matter of a few hours and mutual gratification.

  She tugged at the hem of her kimono-style wrap, knowing she looked more like a porn star than anything else. A friend of hers from Chicago made them after a design Kellie had worked on with her. As thanks, the friend occasionally sent a few samples Kellie’s way. The garments were short, sexy and inappropriate to wear anywhere but to a club and bed. While Kellie was neither an exhibitionist nor a clubber, she still liked the dresses, and wore them when she could.

  Light from a shuttered window illuminated the steps as she approached. And though she’d wondered about the stability based on the exterior, she was surprised to see that the wooden slats across the porch had been replaced, recently if the color and lack of paint were any indication.

  The doorbell was a mass of wires with the ends wrapped in electrical tape, so she opted for knocking. While she waited, she turned to survey the view from the porch. It wasn’t bad. Located at the end of a cul-de-sac with trees to the back of the house, there was a measure of privacy and community.

  The door swung inward and she turned.

  “Hey.” Quin’s eyes widened slightly, his gaze traveling from her face down and lower still.

  She chuckled and placed a hand on her hip, allowing him to look his fill.

  “Done yet?” she asked when he started the journey all over again.

  “Sorry. Come in.” He stepped back and held the door for her as she entered and paused to look around. “I should’ve warned you about the house. I flip properties when I can.”

  Instead of a rundown interior that matched the exterior, it was stunning. From the foyer, she looked into the dining room on the right and a den on the left. Ahead of her, the hallway was partially obstructed by a set of stairs leading up and away. Warm, honey wood floors and neutral beige walls begged to be decorated, made into a home. Instead they were empty but neat and obviously recently updated.

  “Looks like you’re almost done.” Kellie glanced at her phone, giving it one last check before abandoning it for a few hours. There was a text from Shin, but she wasn’t about to check that now. She dropp
ed her keys into her purse and stepped out of her shoes, leaving both by the door.

  “Don’t let this fool you. These were the easy rooms.” He reached for her hand and threaded their fingers together. There was an intensity in his gaze that awakened a hunger deep within her. “Damn, you look really hot, doll. Shit. Sorry.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. It doesn’t bother me.”

  Her gaze flicked over him, taking in the shorts and t-shirt without interest except for how they molded over his chest and hips. She pulled on his arm and stepped closer as he moved to do the same. They collided, chuckling, arms wrapping around each other.

  “Call me doll.”

  “I think I can do that, doll.”

  Quin dug a hand into her hair and took her mouth. It was a rough, bruising kiss and she loved it. Kellie dug her fingers into his shoulders, relishing the way his muscles moved under her touch. If another man had tried to kiss her as he did, she would kick his ass. But he’d won her respect, in a twisted kind of way, and she reveled in the fleeting sensation of being overpowered.

  “That’s a better hello,” he said against her lips.

  “I like the second version better too.”

  She curled her arms around his neck and pressed another kiss to his mouth. One of his hands settled low on her back and he pulled her against the bulge in his shorts. She leaned into him harder and rubbed her thigh against him. Quin groaned and squeezed her hip.

  “Fuck. Excuse my language.”

  She laughed. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  He stepped away from her and took her hand again. “Hey, I’m supposed to be a gentleman here. Let me give you the grand tour.”

  “And let me guess, it ends in the bedroom?”

  The grin that spread across his features was salacious, all naughty invitation and daring. “Where do you want it to end?”

  “Surprise me.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  He led her down the hall that ran between the dining room and the den into an open space that was both an open kitchen and living room lit by a flood lamp clamped to a pole. The kitchen had been dissected, the cabinets ripped out, flooring half in, drywall gone in places. New appliances sat like islands in the middle of what would be an open country kitchen. The flooring was half installed, drywall was missing from one side of the living room, and at least one window needed to be replaced, judging from the cracks.

  He settled his hand on her hip, each finger pressing against her through the silk firebrand hot. His thumb rubbed little circles.

  “This is going to be the same hardwood floor as in the first two rooms. Actually, the whole house is going to have hardwood. I’m thinking about knocking out that back wall and extending it, or pulling those widows out and installing bay windows, and doing a really sick paving stone patio out back.”

  She watched his face, noting the way color tinged his cheeks, how he used his free hand to gesture. It was clear he enjoyed working with his hands. Now if only she could get that focus on her anatomy, the evening would be perfect.

  “Where did you learn to do all this? Did you used to work in construction?”

  He shook his head. “For a little while, but I started building stuff when I was in the Marines.”

  “Marines, huh?”

  His expression grew shuttered and he dropped his hand from her hip. “Yeah.”

  Well, that wasn’t what she’d wanted. She turned to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn’t often coax her lovers, but she’d try. “So what next?”

  “The garage and laundry room are that way.” He jerked his head toward the door beyond the kitchen and settled his hands on her hips again. “And a bathroom and guest bedroom or office is that way.”

  She ran her fingers over the close-cropped hair on the base of his skull. “This is a big place.”

  His blue eyes were focused on her now. “Yeah, but it didn’t need a lot of work. Just some cosmetics, new appliances and I’ll be able to flip it.”

  As fascinating as his hobby was, she’d come to fuck. Lifting up on the balls of her feet, Kellie kissed him lightly, drawing him into the kiss and backing away when he leaned into it.

  “Tease,” he growled out and swiped her hand when she backed farther away. “Come on, the rest of the tour awaits.”

  She followed him back to the main set of stairs and let him lead her to the second floor. This house and Quin did not match. The people who lived in a place like this were families, lots of people who filled it to bursting at the seams. He was a one-bedroom apartment full of pizza boxes kind of guy.

  “I’m done with it up here.” He flipped on a light at the top of the stairs. The smell of paint and wood mingled together with the fragrance of fresh linen. Doors lined the hallway. He paused at each, telling her about a hole in the wall here, or a carpet so gross in one room he’d nearly puked when ripping it out.

  Unlike the first floor, the upstairs was partially furnished. One room had a futon and TV, another a desk and mini fridge. All in all, it was impressive.

  “And this is the master suite.” He stood at her back and pushed the door open.

  “Whatever do you do here?” She smirked over her shoulder and sauntered in.

  Quin stood in the doorway and watched Kellie take in the master suite. Already he was kicking himself for bringing her here. He hadn’t thought about the state of the first floor or how the house appeared. It wasn’t the dump it had been, but it left a lot to be desired. Besides the inspector and the two guys who’d helped him with the bigger projects, he hadn’t allowed anyone else in yet.

  She turned and faced him, hands on her hips and a secretive, sensual expression on her face. The wrap dress plunged between her breasts and the wide sash drew attention to her trim figure. The abbreviated hemline made her already long legs seem unending.

  A cherry tree tattoo wrapped up her left leg, spilling blossoms down her thigh and shin. There was a single flower on the top of her foot, as if it had fallen there. Her right leg was noticeably bare of ink. He wanted to discover all of her tattoos, study them with his mouth and hands. That would take a weekend at least.

  Her hands rose to the sticks holding her hair coiled to her head and plucked them out, sending her hair cascading around her shoulders and spilling down her back. She dropped the chopsticks on the dresser. He should do something, go to her, touch or kiss her. Instead, he stood in the doorway, unable to look away from the woman who slowly sauntered toward him.

  Kellie didn’t tackle him this time. She didn’t wrestle or try to wrench a submission out of him. Gone was the fighter from before, here was a temptress. Blood rushed to his dick.

  “You come home after your job and work on the house?”

  It took him a moment to comprehend the sultry words.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  Her fingers caressed the sash across her stomach, one hand trailing down the ties hanging from one side.

  In contrast to her slow, sensual glide, Quin lurched toward her, all clumsy feet and greedy eyes.

  She reached for him, one hand fisting his shirt and the other splayed across his chest. “You smell like soap.”

  “I took a shower after I got home.”

  “Nice to know. Because I was coming over?” She peeled his shirt up and he lifted his arms, allowing her to strip it off.

  “Yeah, I was sweaty and gross.” He needed to say something sexy, something she’d like, but all he could think of was, “Hot damn.”

  She squeezed his cock through the nylon shorts. “You like that?”

  “Hell yes.” He reached for her but she stepped back. He reined in the urge to capture her, curious about what his temptress would do next.

  Kellie pulled one of the ties and the sash went slack. The front of her dress gaped, exposing the swell of her breasts. The woman had a body made from his fantasies, all curves and hard muscle.

  Kellie pulled the sash away and his mouth dried. The dress hung open, revealing bare
skin beneath. His eyes widened as he realized that under the silk, she wasn’t wearing a thing except what she’d been born in and ink. Lots of ink.

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  “It’s not my tongue I want you to have, doll.”

  With a shimmy of her shoulders, the garment rippled down her arms. She stepped closer and hooked her thumbs in his shorts. “I wonder what it is you want to give me.”

  Before he could form a coherent thought or even touch her, she sank to her knees and took his shorts with her. Her hands rose to feather over the jut of his hips, tracing the lines from his pelvis to his groin. Instead of touching his stiff cock, she trailed her hands down his thighs.

  He finally got control of his thoughts enough to reach for her. He pushed his fingers through her hair. The softness startled him. He didn’t recall having touched it last time.

  “Are you going to suck my dick?”

  One brow rose. “If I feel like it.”

  “Do you?” he rasped out.

  Instead of answering, she leaned forward and planted an open-mouthed kiss on the head of his cock. Her tongue flicked over the slit and zeroed in on the most sensitive spot. He groaned and tightened his hold on her hair.

  “Fuck, do that again.” He applied a little pressure on the back of her head, and this time she took him in her mouth, caressing the underside with her tongue. Her teeth lightly scored him, reminding him that this woman had more than claws.

  Her hands were divided. One fisted the base of his cock while the other massaged his balls. The tips of her fingers followed the crease back to the skin seldom remembered. She rubbed her thumb there as she sucked. Warmth enveloped his cock from the inside out, and sensation from her touch had him rocking up on his toes, driving deeper into her.

  The moment was passing him by. He leaned back and stared down at the woman at his feet. The light made her hair glint blue-black. Her bangs obscured her eyes, but the rest he could see. Her hand and mouth worked in tandem on his cock, finding those places that made him groan. Her breasts swayed as she moved. He wanted to touch them, roll the tight peaks between his fingers and make her scream, but she held him prisoner instead. When she leaned forward, he could see the baleful glare of a creature tattooed on her back. He’d have to investigate that. Later. Much later.