Name: Locked & Loaded
Rating: 4.50 (2 reviews)

This review was originally posted on Cocktails and Books and reviewed by a member of our review team.

Shannon's Thoughts

In RICOCHET: LOCKED & LOADED Heather C. Leigh tries her hand at a military romantic suspense in this novella series. I have to tell you, she gave it her special HCL finesse and had me absolutely hooked on the story of domestic violence escapee Quinn and Rick, one of the MMA fighters/secret military men of Sanctum.

Quinn was a broken woman who found the courage to escape her abusive ex-husband. She lands in Atlanta and working for her father's best friend at his mixed martial art studio, Sanctum. Quinn is a little timid around all the large men that work at Sanctum, but she you can see the beginnings of Quinn rebuilding her life. She learns when she should take an offer of help as just that and not having to worry someone might think it's something else. And for the first time in a long time, she meets someone she can see being friends with. You want a simple thing as a friend for Quinn and for her to find her safety net. And as the story unfolds, you can start to see a big piece of that net is Rick.

Rick is a guy who earned his nickname of Ricochet by jumping from one woman to the next. But the moment he meets Quinn, you can see thing for the mighty Rick are about to change. Rick is an Alpha male at this finest. He stumbles coming to terms with his feelings, but even then Quinn is always at the forefront of his mind. He definitely makes it hard not to love him.

I've yet to read a Heather C. Leigh book that haven't absolutely loved. This one is no exception and is definitely one I recommend.

Excerpt
RICK SMILED AS he stood on the small landing just outside of the tiny apartment above Sanctum. He could hear loud music playing inside, some top forty crap. What was Quinn doing— dancing, singing, cleaning while dancing and singing?

The locks disengaged and the door swung wide open. Rick nearly choked on his tongue at the sight in front of him. Quinn was standing on the threshold with a light sheen of sweat on her body, her hair pulled into a high ponytail, and wearing only a tiny blue sports bra and a pair of shorts so small they couldn’t possibly be legal to wear out in public.

Holy hell, I’m going to croak right here on her doorstep.

“Rick. What are you doing here?” Quinn’s amber eyes shone, but her face looked confused.

“Ummmm,” Jesus. He couldn’t think with her half naked and within arms length, it was too damn distracting. Her pale thighs were smooth and toned. All he could imagine was having them wrapped around his waist. “I uh, I mean… shit. I was going to bring you to the store again. If… if you wanted, I mean.”

Damn, I sound like a complete and total idiot.

Quinn’s already flushed cheeks turned an even darker shade of crimson as he stammered in her doorway. Her eyes cast downward until she was staring at her own feet. Rick marveled over how long and thick her eyelashes were against her pale skin. Her lush pink mouth captivated him as she licked her lips nervously.

This was a bad idea. His dick had a mind of it’s own whenever he was around Quinn and it was beginning to throb inside his jeans. He hadn’t gotten off since the pathetically unsatisfying experience on Sunday night and jerking in the shower at work and his cock was taking notice.

“You came here just to see if I needed another ride?”

Once again, when Quinn’s shy but pleased gaze lifted to Rick’s face, it hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d seen his share of beautiful women, hell, he’d had his share of beautiful women. But nothing he’d seen in his twenty-eight years would ever compare to the absolute perfection of Quinn Wallace.

Mesmerized, Rick could only nod.

The small smile she rewarded him with made his discomfort totally worth it. Like another hit of an addict’s favorite drug, Rick would probably give anything to see her smile more often. Quinn always looked sad, weary. Giving her a little bit of happiness, if only for something as simple as grocery shopping, seemed like a fair trade for a constant, aching hard-on, the inability to enjoy his usual no strings sex, and never ending mental torture.

“Yeah, I came to see if you needed another ride. Is that alright with you, doll?”

Quinn’s gorgeous face relaxed, her smile becoming wider. There were those adorable crinkles around her eyes again. “Yes, it’s fine. Let me just throw on a shirt. Uh, come in and just… wait here.”

He was pleased that she finally stopped telling him not to call her doll. She was a doll, his doll. Rick watched her tight ass as she scurried off to what he assumed was her bedroom. He groaned at the thought of her and her ass anywhere near a bed. As surreptitiously as possible, he adjusted his painful hard on.

Get your shit together, Brennan.

Minutes later, Quinn emerged with a small pink shirt pulled over her sports bra. She was still wearing the tiny, cheek hugging shorts. As he followed her out of the apartment, her delectable back end swaying with each step, Rick wondered if he had lost his fucking mind.