Free Deadly Secrets by Jaycee Clark

in her body contracted and tightened, freezing the breath in her lungs.
    Her eyes flew open.
    Quinlan threw his head back and yelled, “Thank God! Yes!” He stilled and pulsed inside her, sending her into another shivering orgasm.
    He opened his eyes and met her gaze and for a moment the world froze. Then air exploded from their lungs, mixing and melding as his mouth met hers and he slumped to the side, pulling her with him.
    “Sorry,” he panted. “A bit quick.”
    “Not sorry,” she panted back, licking his chest. “I wanna do it again. And again.”
    He laughed against her and kissed the top of her head. “You, Ella, are one of a kind.”
    “Well, I should hope so.”
    His laughter rumbled up his chest, even as his hands continued to move on her, caressing, calming now.
    Ella blew out a breath and took another deep one, the scent of her lotions laced with the scent of Quinlan and their lovemaking.
    She wasn’t going to worry about tomorrow or the next day, only right now and the time she had with Quinlan. And if the remaining time was anything like the time they’d already shared . . . it would be amazing.
    “So, sugar,” she said, turning her head and kissing his biceps. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
    His eyes were closed, but he grinned and chuckled. “Honey, it was better, in case your bed moving across the floor escaped your notice.”
    Her laughter mixed with his.
     
    * * *
     
    Quinlan glanced at the woman sprawled across him. The sheets were tangled around them. The quilt was somewhere on the floor.
    Her lashes were a—light brown, pale amber? He still didn’t know. An earlier shower had taken care of the mascara and any other makeup. Freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose, and across her shoulders he’d noticed. Her face begged to be drawn. His fingers twitched with the need to sketch her, but he was happy where he was.
    He pulled her closer and stared at the ceiling.
    His phone vibrated again, for the umpteenth time. Of all the times for his battery to decide it wanted a longer life. They could just leave him the hell alone.
    He wasn’t going to text or call anyone. He was a grown man, for the love of God. They wanted him to get on with life and that was what he was doing, and doing it pretty damned well if he said so himself.
    The ceiling fan whirred, a bit off balance, in the quiet early morning.
    He took a deep breath and for the first time in a long time he realized he was relaxed, honest to God relaxed—and it wasn’t just from great sex either. He knew the difference. There was something in the air here.
    All too soon, he’d probably be on the plane home with his brothers. There was lots to do this next week. Meetings he was slated for.
    He didn’t care. He hadn’t cared in a long time. He’d tried going back to work for the last year, but everything was wrong. He wasn’t the person he had been and something was missing. Some piece of him.
    And as of yesterday in a hole-in-the-wall market in the Quarter, he’d thought he just might find himself again. Either that or the blue-haired witch had completely enchanted him.
    “You gonna call them back?” Ella asked him quietly.
    He glanced around her pale green walls, the white furniture, and could hear the sounds of traffic on the street. He saw pictures of Ella and her friends framed on her dresser.
    The place was not nearly as neat as he normally liked his space, but then, honestly, Ella’s place reflected her. Artsy came to mind. Explosions of color in artwork and throws, pillows with splashes of colors like faded rainbows. Even her potted plants and ivies were in tie-dyed pots.
    She shifted and the sheet between them caressed over skin, teasing, but not nearly as much as her smooth pale skin.
    “Someone’s awake,” she said, moving more onto him. She stacked her hands under her chin on his chest, her blue hair tussled. He ran his hands through it, still surprised at how silky and soft the strands