Chapter 17
Xander
ONLY FOR TONIGHT
That motherfucking bastard is going to die.
She did nothing. Not one fucking thing, and he took that as permission to attack her?
Not only does security for all our employees need to be tightened so something like this never happens again, but Quinn is going to have her very own security guard watching her when I can’t be there to do it myself.
“Where are your pajamas?” I ask, looking around her small but adorably decorated room.
It’s not my style, but I also don’t hate it. It’s colorful and cozy, and it smells good. It smells like Quinn. The furniture is mismatched but somehow goes together. Between all the blankets and pillows and even a stuffed bear, her bed looks both comfortable and inviting.
I’ve seen all of this before, of course.
As I’ve sat in the small corner chair and watched her sleep, I’ve taken in every minuscule detail of her room.
Including the fact that the chair was covered in clothes when I sat on her bed with her all night.
It still was when I snuck in here the first time to watch her sleep.
Since then, it’s been clean and left empty.
Does she know I’ve been here?
I only planned to do it once. To get her out of my system. Make sure she was okay and getting enough good-quality sleep. But then she called out Daddy in a dream, and I couldn’t stay away. I had to see her each night.
Last night was the first time in a week I didn’t watch her sleep, and it was fucking torture. I got lost in a bottle of expensive whiskey instead.
But now, Quinn needs me. As much as she thinks she can take care of herself, she doesn’t need to. Not with me around. And I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight, anyway.
She walks over to one of the dressers and grabs some clothes from the drawers before she tiptoes into the bathroom. Before she can close the door, I’m there, pushing it back open.
“Nope. You’re not shutting me out, sunshine.”
The second she’s alone in there, she’s going to break, and the only place I’m going to allow that to happen is with her head on my chest.
With her makeup smeared and her nose red from crying, she looks damn vulnerable. So beautiful and sad. Someone dulled her sparkle, and that’s not acceptable. Especially since I get the feeling Quinn has had to fight tooth and nail for that sparkle.
From my experience, vulnerability is a weakness. Yet, I want Quinn to trust me enough to let her walls down and bare her soul because I want to be the one who catches and protects her until she’s ready to soar again.
“I won’t look, but you’re not closing the door. Now, get into your pajamas before I come in there and change you myself.”
Her mouth drops open, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. She thinks this is me being controlling; she has no idea. I wouldn’t give her an ounce of breathing room if she were mine. And she would get used to me taking care of her very intimately.
When she starts tugging her skirt over her round hips, I inwardly groan and turn around, leaning against the wall. My throat is tight as I listen to her clothes rustling. He could have had a gun or a knife.
Quinn is quiet for a second before she sighs and pads out of the bathroom, her pajamas consisting of a thin tank top and a pair of shorts that might actually be underwear.
Fuck.
Did she choose them to torture me, or are skimpy shorts what she always wears at home? There seems to be a theme.
“I’m not sure whether I already said it or not,” she starts, her voice cracking. “But thank you.”
Tears immediately start to fall, and it’s almost as if now, being at home, in her pajamas, safe and comfortable, her walls have collapsed, which is exactly what I’d hoped.
Without hesitation, I scoop her into my arms, loving the way her fullness feels against me. She’s so perfect, and I don’t think she knows it. It’s tragic.
“I got you, baby,” I whisper, lowering onto the edge of her bed with her on my lap before I turn us both, so she’s snuggled on top of me.
Reaching out, I grab one of her soft blankets from the other side of the bed, cover her up with it, and then wrap my arms around her tightly.
As soon as I do, she lets out a sob, and one becomes another and another.
I count each one. She might not have any bruises, but these are just as bad.
He’ll pay. Dearly. No one will ever hurt my sunshine in this lifetime again.
I may not be able to have her, but I will go to my grave doing whatever it takes to keep her safe.
Because something tells me my girl has already been through enough scary shit in her short life, and that’s going to end now.
Trying not to jostle her, I flip off the bedside lamp, only the glow of the twinkle lights strung on the headboard illuminating the space around us.
Quinn buries her face in the crook of my neck, her warm breath a whisper on my skin.
I close my eyes and let myself soak in every second with her.
There’s nothing I can say to make the pain go away, but the least I can do is be here for her.
And tomorrow, when it’s daylight and I have a guard outside her door protecting her, I’m going to go out to the desert and avenge her.
And then I’m going to repeat that until I find every person who has ever hurt my sunshine.
I’m not sure how much time passes as I stroke her head. Every so often, she sniffles, and it kills me every time. I hate the silence. Since the moment I met Quinn, she’s been a mix of chatter and smiles, and all I want to do is hear her sweet voice again.
“I don’t like it when you’re not talking,” I finally tell her.
Her fingers move slightly on my ribcage, and she sighs. “I’m sorry I ruined your night out with your brothers.”
What the fuck?
“You didn’t ruin anything.” It comes out a little more gruffly than I mean it to, but my heart is racing at the thought of what could have happened. “Fuck, if we hadn’t been…”
“Daddy,” she whispers so softly I barely hear it, but I do, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I tilt my head to look at her, my breath catching at just how fucking beautiful she is.
She blinks, her lashes fluttering as she slides her hand up my chest. “I’m okay. You saved me.”
I swallow and have to do it again before I clear my throat. “No one is ever going to hurt you again, sunshine. Never again.”
Using her fingernails, she runs the tips of them down the column of my neck, and my dick throbs against the zipper of my slacks.
She feels it. I know she does. She’s on top of me, for fuck’s sake.
There’s no way she doesn’t feel my raging hard cock.
A better man would probably apologize. But I’m not going to say sorry for the fact that she’s so damn sexy that all it takes is her presence to make me go stiff.
Slowly, she shifts sideways until she’s beside me, tucked under my arm with her lush, bare thigh resting on my dick.
God, how is it possible someone as sweet and beautiful as Quinn is single?
The fucker she broke up with is out of his mind.
If she were mine, I would never let her go.
I wouldn’t even give a fuck whether she wanted to stay or not.
I’d just keep her locked up in my house for the rest of our lives.
Women like Quinn are the type who will drive a man mad.
He’d do anything for her, to protect her, to see her smile, to make her happy.
And if I weren’t so fucked in the head, I’d want to be that man.
It’s just something I can’t do, though. I’d never be able to trust her enough.
Hell, I probably wouldn’t even let her go to the bathroom alone.
Her hand starts to slide down the center of my chest, and I know I should stop her. This is a disaster waiting to happen. For her. And for me. None of this will end well. It will be better if we stay friends and keep things cordial.
Just because we should do that doesn’t mean I have an ounce of power within me to turn her down if she’s going to grab my cock.
Quinn could do whatever the fuck she wants to me and I wouldn’t be able to turn her down.
With her body pressed up against mine, it’s like I can breathe for the first time in years.
Nothing else exists. No pain. No memories. Nothing but her.
“Daddy.”
It’s quiet, but there’s a plea in her voice.
“Fuck,” I groan under my breath. “You’re killing me, baby.”
She lets out a whimper, and that tiny sound makes me snap.
I roll onto my elbow, the front of my body flush with her side. She’s so damn soft. Everywhere. From her creamy thighs to her belly that would look so perfect, rounded with my babies. And those fucking breasts. So big and full.
“You should tell me no,” I tell her as my hand travels up one of her legs to her wide hip, grasping a handful of flesh in my palm. “Tell me to stop and I’ll pull you back into my arms and hold you all night.”
Her eyes are wide and sparkling under the dim glow, so innocent.
“I don’t want you to stop,” she answers. “Please don’t stop, Xander. I need this after what happened tonight… That probably sounds so messed up, but I just, I don’t want to go to sleep thinking about—”
Before she can finish, I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her. It’s gentle, more of a caress than anything, but I don’t want to hurt her split lip any more than it already is.
“Baby, I’m not a gentle man. I like to fuck… roughly. And I like to be in charge. As much as I wish I could say I could hold back for you, I don’t think I can.”
I wish I was strong enough to be soft for her, but honestly, my emotions are so pent up from this past year, I’m like a fucking caged animal waiting to be freed.
“The last thing I want is for you to be gentle,” she replies. “I need to be consumed so completely I forget everything.”
Jesus Christ.
She has no idea how hard her words hit me.
“I can’t give you more than tonight, Quinn.” I run my hand over her cheek and down to her neck, wrapping my fingers around it like a necklace.
She’s so damn dainty compared to me. So small, yet so full and soft. I could get lost in her. She wants to be consumed, but she doesn’t realize I already am and have been since the moment I walked into her apartment.
“I’m not asking for more, Xander.” Her voice is soft and sweet. Delicate like her, and so damn beautiful.
“I don’t like it when you call me by my name.” I narrow my gaze at her, and she stares back at me, her eyes sparkling.
“Yeah, well, I don’t like it when you call me mine, either. It makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”
My dick throbs against her leg. “What would you prefer I call you? Beautiful? My good girl? Sunshine? Baby girl?”
I squeeze her throat slightly and shift my hips as she lets out a breathy whimper.
“You like all those names. You like being Daddy’s good girl, don’t you?”