Page 21 of Hollow Trace

She holstered her weapon, chest heaving, all that fire from before sparking back to life. “Jesus, Quinton, I nearly shot you.”

He sauntered forward, pausing just inside the structure. “You? Fire before you’ve identified a target? That’s not the warrior I know.” He sighed when her left eye twitched at the comment. “Which I realize is pretty hypocritical considering what I said, but…”

He moved over, leaned against one of the support beams. “Admit it. That wasn’t our worst fight.”

She copied his stance, leaning on one of the other pillars. “Jury’s still out.” She cocked her head to the side. “How did you know where to find me, anyway? Coulter tell you?”

“Please, I’d be a shitty investigator if I didn’t know how to find you when there’re limited options. Besides, you always retreat to the forest when you’re upset. And god knows, I definitely pissed you off.”

“Is that what you came out here to say? Because I’m really not in the mood for another round.”

“Good, because I didn’t come out here to fight. Apologize, sure.” He kicked at the cement floor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that jab about not knowing you.” He let his head bow toward his chest. “I guess I’m still in shock. Started talking out of my ass.”

“Is that what you’re going with? Because that didn’t feel like shock. That felt like you getting a bit of payback for how I hurt you.”

He paused for a moment, her words still hanging in the air. “Fair.” He pushed off the post. “Though, for the record, I’m still not convinced this isn’t all a dream.”

“You got hit in the vest with a round, and we both had our heads rattled by a flash bang. I really hope that’s not what your dreams are usually like.”

He shrugged. “You’re in this one. I’d take the win.”

That doused the fire out of her blood, cooled all that anger into cold, hard regret.

She straightened, met his expectant gaze. “I know it’s cliché, but I meant what I said earlier. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Then, why didn’t you find a way to contact me? I think you know I never would have put your safety, your life, in jeopardy, whether I agreed with the mission or not.” He blew out a rough breath when she just stood there, frozen. “Coulter seems to think it’s because you were afraid I’d say no. Walk away.” He inched closer. “Is that true?”

A shiver worked through her, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her eyes from tearing over. “I haven’t really given you much of a reason over the years to say yes.”

His muscles eased a fraction. “Scout. Baby…”

“I guess I thought it would fade like all the other times we tried but life got in the way. That if I just focused on the mission, on finding Finch, getting justice for Darwin and Kane, I’d be okay.” She paused, tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. “But this time is different.” She tapped her chest. “I’m different. What I feel for you is different.”

She raked her fingers along her hair, pulling it free from the pony. “The longer I spend in the bunker, the more the walls close in around me. I know my teammates think I’m losing it. And they’re not wrong. Coulter laughs, and I hear your voice. I see Wynn sneaking into Darwin’s room, and I remember all the times I snuck into yours because your house always made me feel safe.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I catch Zadie and Gideon kissing, and all I can think is how that’s never going to be me.”

She turned, paced across the width of the building, then back. “They send me on supply runs because they know I’m one trigger away from going rogue. But then, I see a cop car, and I can’t breathe.” She let her shoulders droop as she looked over at him, her chest squeezed so tight, black dots flitted across her vision. “You’re standing ten feet away, and I still can’t breathe.”

Quinn shook his head as he moved forward. “Fuck this.”

He crossed the floor in long, powerful strides, muscles pulling at the wet fabric before he threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her captive as he slanted his mouth over hers, delved inside. Beer-tinged heat filled her senses, the sheer size of him stealing her breath. She fisted his shirt, tugging him closer, anything to feel more of his body pressed against hers.

Quinn broke the kiss, staring down at her with his eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring — the same way he had when she’d removed her neck gaiter — as if he suddenly had everything to lose. Diving back in, he claimed her mouth in a kiss that set every nerve on fire.

Her back hit the post a second later, his massive body pinning her there as he ravaged her mouth, finally breaking off in order to kiss his way down her neck, bite at the muscle corded above her shoulder.

“God, Quinn.”

He worked his way back up, his fingers already tugging on her pants, his mouth a breath away. “Say my name again.”

She palmed his face, the thick stubble on his jaw abrading her skin. “Quinn.”

He closed his eyes as his forehead rested against hers. “I never thought I’d hear…” He kissed her again. Harder. Deeper. “If you don’t want this…”

She answered him by dropping her hands to his hips, her fingers working the belt around his waist. Quinn had her holster hitting the floor, her pants sliding over her hips by the time she freed the buckle, dropping his weapon on the ground and shoving everything down to his knees.

He crouched just long enough to shuck her pants the rest of the way, taking her boots with them before he was back, his mouth hot on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, levering her forearms on his broad shoulders as he scooped one arm under her ass, helping her cinch her legs around his hips while she locked her heels against the small of his back.

He tilted her pelvis, teased her with a hint of penetration before thrusting forward, sinking fully inside her a breath later. Heat ripped through her core, every nerve igniting at once as she pressed her head against the post, trusting him not to let her fall.