Extraction Point (Ricochet 3)
Rick braced himself up on his arms and thrust wildly, his strokes uneven and deeper than Quinn thought possible.
“Quinn…” Rick warned, letting her know he was close.
Right as his gorgeous face drew tight with ecstasy, his head thrown back as he came with a roar. The sight sent Quinn over the edge. She shattered into a million pieces and convulsed around Rick’s cock, drawing a strangled sound from his throat as he collapsed on top of her.
In that moment, life was perfect. And maybe it would be from here on out. Quinn couldn’t worry about it right now. Now, she was truly loved and cared for, and nothing else mattered.
It was three weeks since the Travis debacle, and no one had seen or heard a peep from the man. He was completely off the grid. Even though she didn’t think he was still in the area, Quinn wasn’t about to relax and let her guard down, not that the men of Sanctum would allow that to happen. When she came to Atlanta, Quinn had expected to find her father’s old buddy, that’s it. What she found instead was a family— a father figure, five over-protective big brothers, a sister in Mara, and a lover that made her happier than she ever imagi
ned possible.
The door clicked open behind her, but Quinn didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Not only did her body have some sort of ability to sense when Rick was nearby, but the closed circuit camera in the hallway let her know who was entering Mission Control.
“Hey babe,” she said over her shoulder, not looking away from the wall of screens in front of her.
“Hi doll. You almost done?” Rick leaned in close, brushing the hair away from her ear to whisper. “You have no idea how fucking hot you look when you’re working.”
Quinn smiled, a shiver running through her from Rick’s husky, sexed-out voice. “I never would have pegged you as someone with a geek-fetish.” Her fingers stopped typing so she could melt into Rick’s lips as they skimmed along her neck.
“Not a geek-fetish, doll. A you fetish.” He fake growled and bit her ear playfully.
“Stop!” Quinn giggled and weakly shoved Rick away, not actually wanting him to stop at all.
“You need to stop turning me on if you don’t want me all over you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Everything turns you on.”
“Just you, doll. Just you.”
Before Quinn could respond, the door clicked and Tucker walked in. “Hey Rick. Quinn,” he crossed the room and dropped into his chair. “This just came for you.” He handed her a large, cream-colored envelope.
The wide grin fell off her face the instant Quinn got a look at the return address. Her stomach flipped inside out and her heart flew up into her throat. For a minute, Quinn thought she might pass out. She must have looked as bad as she felt, because Rick was in front of her, speaking frantically.
“Hey… Quinn! Doll. You okay?”
The warm, comforting strength of Rick’s arms came around her, pulling her out of her chair and into his embrace.
“What is it?” His voice was steady, but Quinn could hear the concern behind the words.
“It’s… it’s from a law office. In San Antonio.”
Rick’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to figure out the importance of that city. She knew the moment he made the connection because his brilliant eyes turned hard and cold.
“Travis,” he said, his mouth in a tight line.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe he signed the divorce papers.” Rick and Quinn turned simultaneously to stare at Tucker as if the man had two heads. Not normally good with reading social cues, Tucker had no problem figuring out that he wasn’t needed in this particular conversation. “Uhhh, I forgot… ummmm, I have something to do.” The man bolted for the door and was gone, leaving Rick and Quinn alone with the letter.
“He’s right, doll. It could be the divorce.”
Rick’s steady hands smoothed up and down Quinn’s back, grounding her, keeping her from freaking out.
“Yeah.”
“Sit,” Rick instructed, leading her back to her chair. He took Tucker’s recently vacated seat and waited for Quinn to open the letter.
“I’m afraid,” she whispered.