Page 51 of Playing with Fire

I needed to think long and hard about what I liked so much about Samuel Quinn. Everything, which was my default answer, had to be incorrect. “You’re an asshole.”

“But I’m an asshole who is really good in bed and willing to prove it to you all night long.”

Once again, he won, and the smug bastard knew it, too. I surrendered with a whimper, slouched in the seat, and decided my goal in life was to keep from squirming, whimpering, or moaning until we reached the hotel room.

It took Quinn six minutes to reach the Plaza, and the instant I got out of his car, he tossed me over his shoulder, secured a hold on my legs, and carried me inside. The valet did his best but ultimately laughed his head off. Quinn strutted into the lobby, whistling a happy little tune.

I snatched handfuls of Quinn’s shirt so I wouldn’t succumb to the temptation to grab something enticing but rather inappropriate. I added groping to my list of things I wouldn’t do until we reached our room.

“Chief Quinn. Your room is ready. Your other requests should be prepared within the next twenty minutes.”

I peeked around Quinn’s side. The man behind the large desk smiled; good hotels always had smiling employees, even when one of the guests was spreading pink, glittery dust all over the marble floor.

“Excellent. Thank you. Hey, Bailey? Grab my wallet, would you?”

It wasn’t inappropriate if he asked me to do it, right? I didn’t need to be asked twice. I slid my hand into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. Maybe I shouldn’t have squeezed him in the process, but if he wanted a miracle, he needed to ask an angel. I slipped his wallet into his hand. “Here.”

At the front doors, the busboy and the second valet were laughing so hard I was worried there’d be bodies. With my luck, they were taking pictures, so I smiled and waved. Maybe the real miracle was my restraint.

I didn’t leave a pink handprint on Quinn’s ass.

Quinn carried me to the elevator and waited until we were in our room to put me down. The first thing to go would be his shirt. I almost had him out of it when his phone rang.

“Break it,” I suggested, contemplating tearing off the stubborn button thwarting me. “Violently.”

Instead of obeying, he answered, “Chief Quinn speaking.” There was a short pause, then he chuckled. “No. I decided I wasn’t up for her shit tonight, so I ran away. I meant to call in I wasn’t going home.” After another pause, Quinn laughed again. “Huh. I suppose you could classify it as a kidnapping. Hey, Gardener. It’s apparently kidnapping if I take people wherever I want. You okay with being kidnapped?”

How was I supposed to get him naked without the caller learning I intended to drag the police chief to bed and keep him there? “I beat the shit out of a male gorgon today. You don’t stand a chance, Mr. Police Chief. Tell them I kidnapped you. That should confuse them. Hey. Where are your handcuffs? I better make it look real. I guess if I stuffed you under the bed, housecleaning would eventually find you, huh? Pity.”

I started patting him down, taking everything out of his pockets in search of his handcuffs. With handcuffs, I had limitless options on what I could do with Quinn.

Why were his handcuffs stuffed down his pants, anyway?

Quinn smirked. “Did you hear that? Good. Since Audrey’s brother did try to kill her, call in someone to check over my house, and ask the CDC if they’d send an investigator as a personal favor to me—I’ll pay their fee out of pocket. If the rep can be an incubus who hasn’t gotten laid for a very, very long time, even better. I wouldn’t mind if she was kept busy for a few months. What? I can’t request an incubus? That’s not fair. How about a succubus?”

I could hear someone laughing on the other end of the line, and I worried he would choke to death if he didn’t stop soon.

“You really don’t have to laugh that hard.”

If I broke the phone, would he forgive me? “Quinn, stop playing with the phone.”

He ignored me. “I’m hiding at the Plaza. The angels finally let Bailey out of the bar. When she found out Audrey was at my place, she started screaming something about that woman getting between her, a bath, and some sleep, there would be bodies. I was concerned my body might be one of them. Since she was primed to kill my ex-wife, I thought a hotel might be a wise decision. She—”

I’d have to dig the handcuffs out of his pants later. Yanking the phone out of Quinn’s hand, I said, “Hello? Hi. Please don’t listen to him. He’s so tired he has no idea what he’s talking about. He’s going to bed.”

With me. All night long.

With the phone against my ear, I recognized Perky’s strangled laughter. “Oh. It’s Perky. Hey, Perky.”

“Hey yourself, Gardener. Last news on the wire was you went and got yourself killed by a pair of angels.”

“Only a little bit. Chief Quinn really needs to get some sleep.”

With me. Now. All night long.

“You don’t seem very dead to me. Not even a little bit. The chief was pretty cranky you’d gone and gotten yourself killed.”

“It was only a little bit!”