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But then I stop thinking so much because Quinn is undoing his thick leather belt. He’s unzipping the fly on his jeans and again, it’s like a slow-motion Tumblr gif from back in the day.
He slides his hand into his open fly and rubs it over his cock, and I think I’m about to come from that alone.
“And then what?” He looks as sexy and smug as I’ve ever seen a man look.
“Naked,” I choke out. And his smile gets even dirtier as he pushes his boxer briefs down his thick thighs and off completely.
“I want you on the bed.” My voice is shaky, too quiet, too breathy, but he doesn’t say a thing. He just moves to the edge of his giant bed and sits back on the charcoal duvet.
“You going to let me taste you, Georgeous?” he asks, leaning back on one arm as he lazily strokes his shaft with his free hand. “You going to kneel over my face and let me make you come with my mouth?”
Oh my God. My inner walls clench and liquid heat pools in my belly at the thought. Still, I shake my head. “I’m going to get on top,” I whisper.
Running his tongue along his bottom lip, he makes a sound of feigned disappointment, like he’s actually bummed he can’t eat me. And seriously, the guy isgoodat going down. But it’s too close to what happened last time. I remember that desperation and desire to get his mouth on me, and I don’t want to fall for it again.
I don’t want to think about it.
“I just want to… umm… screw.” Crass. Cold. I can totally do this.
He holds up a finger. “And I am all about that, but before we get ahead of ourselves—” He leans over to the nightstand and pulls a condom out of the drawer.
I’m not quite sure what I expected him to do next, but it wasn’t to flatten out the foil and give it a closer look.
Then, seemingly satisfied, he slaps it down on the bedspread beside him. This time when he looks up at me, that smug smile I’ve been clinging to so fiercely, the one that makes me feel safer than anything smacking of sincerity, is gone.
He swallows. “Sorry, just… umm… needed to check the date.”
Right, because I’m supposed to believe this guy hasn’t been burning through the Trojans faster than they could possibly expire. Whatever.
“Good?” I ask, reaching for the hem of my T-shirt.
“Not yet, but you’re about to be.” He waves me closer. “How about you come over here and let me help you with all those extra clothes.”
In my book, that sounds like seduction, and I don’t want to be dreaming about the way this man peeled my clothes off. I want the focus on the feel-good physical.
“Thanks, but I got it,” I say, whipping my T-shirt overhead. I reach behind me and unclasp my bra, dropping the green satin beside me and then popping the button on my cargoes so I can shuck them with my panties and shoes all at once.
I mean this to be a no-nonsense kind of encounter, but the half-tortured sound emanating from Quinn’s chest and the hungry way his eyes burn over me say I’m not totally successful. Dang it, I’m going to remember that look.
“Tell me you’re sure about this,” he rumbles, eyes locked on my tits as I crawl over his lap.
“About wanting to use you once, and then never again? Yeah, I’m sure.”
I’m a liar is what I am. Because the barely functional, rational part of my brain is telling me this is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, but I’m too far gone to listen.
“Thank fuck,” he groans, capturing my hips in his big hands, pulling me flush against him.
My knees are spread wide over his thighs, my tits pillowing against his chest as our mouths meet in a devouring kiss. God, this man can kiss. No wonder it’s haunted me all these years. Our tongues tangle and roll, stroking wet and hot and hungry against one another.
His fingers flex and spread, sliding over my ass and pulling me in to meet him just right. He’s so hard. So thick and big.
“So wet for me,” he groans against my lips. He reaches between my legs from behind, stroking through my slickness and then pushing a thick finger inside.
That’s good. So good. And not because it’s Quinn O’Brian touching me. Definitely not.
Because it’s been so long, that’s all.
His touch is just a little rough. And the way he’s moving, easing in and out, filling me with one, and then two—
