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“The phrase you’re thinking of,” he says. “It’s ‘there’s no delaying the inevitable.’”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry, human. We have four days. We’ll get you squared up with your slang.”
I laugh and he smiles, then kisses me once more. I soak up the moment, soak up the way he’s touching me, soak up the way when we’re together, I feel invincible. I feel special and brave and fierce.
I feel like I can conquer the universe with Quinn by my side.
And then it’s time to leave.
I watch on a control screen as the side of the warehouse slides away.
“That’s incredible,” I say. “I’ve never seen a building like this one before.”
“Money talks,” he says. “There’s another phrase for you.”
“What’s it mean?”
“It means I spent a lot of money to buy this place. It means money gets you what you want.”
“Sadly,” I say. “The world would be better if other things got you what you wanted.”
“There aren’t many good people in the world, Fiona.”
“You’re good.” I shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t let the words leave my lips, but I can’t help myself.
“I’m not as good as you think.”
“You saved me. You didn’t have to.”
“I couldn’t help myself,” he says.
We sit in silence then and I try not to think too hard about the words he’s saying or the way my heart feels when he does. I try to focus on the way he’s slowly easing the ship out of the warehouse and into the field next to the building. I try to pay attention to the buttons he’s pressing as he raises the ship into the air.
I try to listen to what he’s saying now, but all I hear is what he didn’t say.
All I hear is that he wanted to save me.
All I hear is that he wanted me.
Chapter 22
Quinn
Once we’re off Dreagle, I calm down. I shouldn’t because the real trouble is just beginning, but before I start to worry about anyone finding me and trying to shoot down my damn ship, I’m going to have a little fun with Fiona.
“You look cozy,” I comment, looking her up and down. She’s wearing a shirt and socks and nothing else. She smiles at me from the seat beside me. Fiona has her feet pulled up on the chair and I can see her little pussy peeking through her thighs at me.
Wet.
Waiting.
Wanting.
“I am cozy,” she murmurs. “And comfortable.”
