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“What did you do yesterday? Apart from make all the group want to adopt you.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure I can think of something. Oh! I’ve just thought of another one.”

I groaned. “I dread to ask.”

“This one is something you can say.” He paused. “‘You’ve been so good lately, Quinn. I think it’s time I reward you with a mind-blowing orgasm.’”

I laughed. “Nice try. And by the way, that was a good impression of me.”

“What can I say? I love your voice.” Another catch in his breathing.

“Are you alone?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“What are you doing now?”

“Still lying on the bed.”

“Close your eyes.”

Quinn laughed again. “You’re not here.”

“Humour me.”

There was a small pause. “Okay. What now?”

“Put one hand on your stomach.”

His breath hitched faintly. “Max…”

“Do it.”

Another pause, followed by a quiet exhale. “Okay.”

The sound of his breathing changed again, slower, heavier.

“You’re very responsive,” I observed.

“That’s your fault.”

“How so?”

“You’re doing the voice.”

“What voice?”

“You know exactly what voice.”

I smiled. “I wasn’t aware I had one.”

“You absolutely do.”

I could push further. It would be so easy. He was already halfway there.

Instead I said, “Goodnight, Quinn.”

There was a stunned pause. “That’s it?”