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“Well, you will. The man’s a sucker for Roxie’s pies. He and his brother own the gym, and he happily kicks my ass every chance he gets. Boxing, jiu jitsu, MMA—he freaking schools me. But I’m stubborn. Or a glutton for punishment. What can I say?” He kissed the top of her head, and she smiled. “When you decided you weren’t going to go by Natalie anymore, what made you decide to pick the name Alexandra Garcia?”
Her chest clenched, but she didn’t hesitate. She trusted him with her truth.
“My maiden name was Natalie Marie-Alejandra Stanton. After I got married, I dropped Alejandra and Stanton and went with Natalie Marie Woodsworth. Garcia is my mom’s maiden name. When I was growing up, I had a crush on the boy across the street, and he always called me by my middle names. He thought it was funny that I had two.
“After a couple months, he decided Marie-Alejandra was too long, and he shortened it to Mary-Alex. It stuck, and before I knew it, all the neighborhood kids called me that. That name always made me smile, so when I was in the hospital, I decided to go with Alex. I’d always thought it was kind of spunky. I figured I could use all the spunk I could get.”
She dipped her hand down to the V of his lower abdomen, smiling when he sucked in a breath.
“Now...” She sat up and straddled his thighs. “Are we going to keep talking about all this boring stuff?”
She ran her hands over his chest and ever so slowly moved them closer to where she knew he craved her touch. His abdominal muscles tightened as the tips of her fingers feathered over his stomach. She licked her lips when her hand encircled his hard, hot arousal.
She stroked his erection, and he moaned. “Alex, sweetheart, you don’t have to—”
“Shhh.” With her free hand, she placed a finger to his lips. With her other, she pumped his straining cock until he was throbbing. “Just sit back and relax. I want to do this for you.”
Replacing the finger she held to his lips with her mouth, she greedily tangled her tongue with his. He tasted of wine and spice and... Quinn.
She needed more of him. Much more.
While her fist maintained its rhythm, she blazed a fiery path of wet kisses down his chest. She shifted to kneel between his spread thighs, her lips mere inches away from his arousal. Her mouth watered.
She smiled up at him. When his breath caught, her grin grew. Keeping her gaze locked with his, she closed her lips around the plump head of his cock.
He was salty and delicious. She explored him with her mouth, rolling her tongue down his hard shaft and gently flicking over the sensitive underside.
“Holy shit, baby,” he groaned, his gray eyes heavy-lidded with lust.
She loved the feel of his tight, silky flesh against her lips, loved how he filled and stretched her entire mouth. Her lips closed over him again, and she took him as deep in her throat as she could.
Suddenly, he pulled her up, and they were face to face.
“Now, Quinn.” She pushed him playfully onto his back. “What’d you do that for? I was having fun. Weren’t you?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But I need to be deep in your pussy when I come, baby.”
Her heart skipped, and his erotic words sent a flood of wetness to her core. “Yes, please,” she murmured, straddling him once more.
His large hands gripped her hips as she sank onto him. “Ride me, sweetheart.”
Sensation after sensation flowed through her. Rapture, elation, passion, love.
Her hips rose and fell with abandon. When Quinn’s fingers touched her where their bodies joined, she shattered. He pulled her chest to his and held her tight, pounding into her, taking her back to the edge. Then they climaxed as one.
Breathless, limbs intertwined, she snuggled into his side. No words were spoken, but his comforting warmth enveloped her. She drifted off to sleep, content.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
Getting out of the car, she followed Preston into the house. Exhausted, she set her purse on the kitchen island and climbed the stairs behind him, her feet throbbing with every step.
Once in their master suite, she sat on the edge of their bed and sighed as she removed her shoes. “Whoever invented five-inch stilettos must have been one sick puppy,” she grumbled, massaging her aching feet.
“Did you have a good time tonight, darling?” Preston called from the bathroom.
She rolled her eyes but pasted a smile on her face. “Of course. You know I enjoy going to these charity events.” She didn’t. At all.
With a faucet still running in the bathroom, he emerged dressed only in his silk pajama bottoms. She wanted to question why he’d bothered to put on his sleep clothes when he was going to take them off again in a minute to bathe, but bit her tongue.
