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Saige reached up with one hand and caressed his face, noticing the faint lines from where Jocelyn had used her nails. Quinten turned and kissed the palm of her hand.
“I love you, and I hope you don’t mind me telling you all the time,” Saige whispered.
“I’ve waited years to hear you say those words to me again, so I’ll never get tired of hearing them.” His hands slipped around her waist, his hardness obvious against her bottom. “I love you more than I have words to describe,” he admitted, his voice thick with longing.
“I really want your baby, Quinten.” Saige bit her lip, wondering why she blurted those words out, but once Quinten got over the obvious shock of hearing them, his lips twitched and he smiled all the way to his eyes.
“We haven’t exactly practiced safe sex, so I’m guessing that’s going to happen sooner rather than later...but are you really ready for that after what we’ve discovered?” he asked, a worried frown on his brow.
“I’m angry that my father agreed to an abortion without even telling me I was pregnant. To me, that is worse than him keeping me drugged for two years. Although, I’m upset that the life we created with love was taken, I don’t have one memory of knowing.” Saige shook her head. “I’m not making any sense.”
“I understand what you’re trying to say. You’re saying that you didn’t know, so how could you mourn for something you had no clue about. In this case, our child.”
“I don’t want to think about it anymore and I want to try and put that in the past as much as I can, because the thought of someone invading my body in that way makes me want blood...that report will be given to Coulter, regardless of my father being responsible.”
Quinten tugged her sweatshirt free of her shoulder and pressed his warm lips against her skin. “A can of worms has been opened and Coulter’s out for blood. Trust him.”
“I do...will you take my mind off everything,” Saige asked, and pressed against the arousal he couldn’t hide even if he tried.
“You sure?” he asked.
“More than sure.” She smiled, and tugged her sweatshirt off and pushed her leggings to the floor. She cupped her breasts and watched him gulp when his eyes landed on the large mounds through the mirror.
“Wait.” Quinten looked around and grabbed a towel to cover the edge of the vanity before he pushed her against it. “Spread your legs.”
She did and then felt the gentle caress of Quinten’s palms over her bottom and the tickle of his fingers between her thighs. His breath was warm against her skin as he nuzzled into her neck.
“You have too many clothes on,” she hissed between her teeth when he removed her hands from her breasts and replaced them with his own, rolling and pinching the hard nipples between his finger and thumb.
“Not for long.” In two seconds, he managed to remove his sweats and shirt, and pushed his penis between her thighs; the heat of his body coursed down the en
tire length of hers.
Saige pushed back and, reaching between her thighs, rubbed the head of his shaft that teased her clit with her thumb.
His hands trembled against her skin as he lifted one of her thighs up, and brought her knee onto the vanity. “Hold steady.”
She couldn’t do anything else, and then she felt him nudge into her. Once he was seated inside of her, he brought her leg down, which caused him to curse a blue streak as she clenched around him. “So good,” he grunted.
His hand held onto her breasts as he started to slowly glide in and out of her. She wouldn’t be able to hold on for long because of the way he made her feel—like she was his and his alone.
“I love you, baby,” he whispered against her neck. “Never forget how much I love you.”
“Never,” she agreed.
Day 20
9:15am
* * *
Coulter observed Paul Lewis through the one-way glass as he sat silently next to his lawyer. Every now and again, Paul would lean over and whisper something to the lawyer, and it seemed to Coulter that he was almost...excited. He really couldn’t figure the man out.
Lost in thought, Coulter vaguely registered the arrival of the DA, but couldn’t ignore him once the man cleared his throat to get Coulter’s attention.
“He has no idea what he’s going to face in prison, does he?” the DA, Gregory Bishop, stated.
Coulter sighed. “No...and that worries me.” He glanced at Greg and back to Paul. “He said he wants taking care of. Who confesses to murder for that?”
