AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Oh shit. I’m hard as a spike, and she’s reaching for the belt I just fastened, those deft fingers curling around the leather as she tugs me closer.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” I’m not sure I’m following the meaning of that one word. Like I’m over my head with preschool vocab instead of holding a degree from arguably one of the best schools in the country.
She nods, rolling her hips into contact with mine. “The door thing. Let’s do it again.”
The door thing that ends with her in my bed. My mouth crushes hers, my arm banding tight across her back as I draw her chest in hard against mine. And she’s ready to go. Groaning as she opens to the demand of my kiss, sucking on my tongue. Reaching between us to cup me in her palm.
“Fuck!” I jerk back, my heart slamming harder than it did in tonight’s game. “No.”
Okay, and if I wasn’t so completely on edge and ragged in ways that only have to do with her, I would laugh at the look on George’s face right now. She’s like a little kid who spilled her triple scoop cone.
I brush a thumb across her cheek and shake my head. “Baby, I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone in my life.”
“But you’re done letting me use you?” she whispers.
“No.” Not on her life. “But we need to get a few things clear first. We need to talk. And then once we do, you’re welcome to use me as often as you like. And if you want, I’ll even bring you back here for the door thing before I carry you like a caveman back to my bed and start all over again.”
Something passes over her eyes, and I’d swear it was relief, only it’s gone too quickly to be sure.
“Okay. We’ll talk.”
Chapter 13
George
The Five Hole is a sports bar. It’s not some swank place with velvet ropes and bouncers guarding a VIP section for the sport elite. The guys come for a beer after the games sometimes and they sit in the back part of the main bar. But apparently there’s more to the Five Hole than meets the eye. And no surprise Quinn knows all about it.
I don’t want to think about how many bunnies he’s done up against that bathroom door. Or how he knew about the closed-off second-floor bar that apparently only gets rented out for special occasions. But that’s where he’s taking me, leading me by the hand because I’m too tired to fight him on it and, even if I wasn’t, if feels too good to give up.
There’s bleacher seating at one end of the room, the biggest TV I’ve ever seen mounted at the other, and against the length are semicircular booths with little round tables that each look like they were made by pouring epoxy over a couple dozen pucks. It’s pretty cool, but being up here with Quinn is making it hard to appreciate.
How often does he bring girls here?
At least the positioning of the little puck drink tables to the booths makes me think chances are good I’m not going to actually be sitting somewhere that Quinn nailed another woman.
And then he goes and grabs a tabletop like maybe he’s done it a hundred times before and moves it out of the way.
Is this his favorite booth?
There’s a crummy feeling in the pit of my stomach thinking about it, which is completely stupid because the only thing I want from Quinn is what he’s been giving all the bunnies. A handful of orgasms. A good time.
It doesn’t matter how many have come before.
The more the better. Anything to remind me that this isn’t special. I don’t want it to be.
“Come here,” he says, dropping into the cushioned booth and holding out a hand for me to slide in beside him.
“This is only because you’re big and warm and you melted my brain with the whole dirty sexy business.” Not because he’s wearing me down or anything.
He gives me a smile that’s half boyish and half cocky man. “Got it. You got what you wanted back there—”
“Not quite.”
He huffs a short laugh. “Right. Not quite. And now you’re using me for my body heat.”
There’s nothing but warmth in the eyes looking down at me, but still, I have to ask. “You mind?”
