Free Bound to Them by Lorna Jean Roberts Page B

sight
they presented. Tall, gorgeous Nash with his blond hair in disarray, his eyes
caring and hot. Then Quinn with his wide shoulders and strong features, his
gaze stern and piercing. She quivered, her body one giant mass of sensation.
Cream coated her folds as nerves danced through her stomach. It was only a
matter of time before she threw caution to the wind and jumped them.
    Jesus, she had to get away from them.
    “Give me your key, darlin’.” Nash spoke quietly. “You’re
still trembling. We’re not leaving you in this state.”
    She let out a bark of laughter before smashing her palm over
her mouth. If only they knew her exact state. Would they offer to cure her? She
placed her other hand over the one covering her mouth, knowing how stupid she
looked but not wanting to give way to hysterics.
    Quinn eyed her. “Wonder what that’s all about,” he said to
Nash as though she weren’t standing right there, looking idiotic, hands over
her mouth in case she stupidly asked them to come in and fuck her into
oblivion.
    Nash looked at her in concern. “She’s overwrought from
working too hard. I’ve got a good mind to put her to bed and make her stay
there until morning.”
    Are you offering to stay with me?
    Quinn’s lips twitched. “She might if she had an incentive to
stay there.”
    She gazed at him in shock, her hands dropping. “What?” she
gasped.
    “Quit it,” Nash commanded. “She needs some TLC, not you
pushing yourself on her.”
    Crista met Quinn’s gaze, unable to look away.
    “Oh, I don’t know,” Quinn said wickedly. “I don’t think I’d
have to push at all.”
    Nash let out an exasperated breath. “Keys,” he barked,
making her jump.
    Quinn sent Nash a look of disgust. “I thought I was the
insensitive brute and you were the smooth one,” he muttered as Crista handed
over the motel room key.
    Nash shook his head. “Which room?”
    “Two oh seven,” she replied.
    Nash skirted around her as Quinn placed his hand on her
lower back and guided her along behind Nash.
    “What the fuck?” Nash swore, pausing outside her door.
    He held his hand out, ordering them silently to stop. Crista
ignored him and stepped to the side. Quinn reached out and pulled her behind
his large body.
    “What are you doing? What’s wrong?”
    Quinn kept hold of her.
    “Quinn, what are you doing? I want to get past.” She really
needed a long bath and an even longer sleep. Exhaustion swamped her, making it
hard to keep her head up.
    “Stay where you are,” he ordered her. “What’s wrong, Nash?”
    “Crista?” Nash called. “Did you remember to lock your door
this morning?”
    At Nash’s words, Crista paused in the process of shoving
Quinn’s arm out of her way.
    “Crista,” Quinn growled. “Say that you were a good girl and
locked your door this morning.” His voice dared her to tell him otherwise. She
shivered in reaction, glad she could tell him the truth. Lying had never come
easily to her.
    “Yes, I locked the damn door,” she snapped.
    “Wait here with her,” Nash told Quinn. “I’m going to check
things out.”
    Quinn shook his head. “You stay. I’m going in.”
    “No,” Nash said harshly. “Stay here and protect her.”
    “Someone broke into my motel room?” Crista asked as Nash
prodded her door open and stepped inside.
    Please don’t let it be Andrew, please.
    “Whoever was in there will be long gone. Especially after
all the noise we made.” Quinn sighed impatiently. “What’s taking him so long?”
he muttered a minute later. “Damn, I can’t stand it. Come on, let’s go.”
    Crista followed him inside.
     
    Nash looked around Crista’s motel room, angry beyond words.
Pure, unadulterated fury surged through his veins.
    “Jesus. This isn’t what I expected,” Quinn said.
    He knew what Quinn meant. Nash thought he’d find the room
trashed, burgled. But not this.
    “Oh no, not again.”
    Both men turned to look at Crista, who stood in the doorway,
staring at