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Quinn wasn’t nervous anymore.
They’d been staring at each other for a good thirty seconds, neither making a move. Lori’s eyes got wider. Quinn’s got narrower. His anger had morphed into something much better.
When he took a step forward, her hands twisted together.
“Quinn?”
“Hmm?” Not willing to stop and let her think—what did thinking have to do with fantasies?—Quinn closed the last two feet between them and pulled her into his arms.
“What…?” she gasped before he caught the sound against his lips. Ah, yes. Just the taste he’d spent the whole day trying to recall with perfect clarity. Lori sprinkled with wine.
She was stiff in his arms, but while the old Quinn would’ve immediately set her back and let her go, he was a new Quinn. A man determined to give her what she needed, even if she had no idea what that was. A man shaped for her wicked pleasure.
He smiled against her mouth and swept his tongue in to brush against hers. The tiny sound she made seemed very positive. Her arms crept around his waist. Quinn backed her up and set her on the table, fit himself between her parting thighs, and picked up where they’d left off on the hood of his car.
* * *
THIS WASN’T RIGHT. She was so mad at him. So mad that he didn’t truly want her.
But now his mouth was working magic, his tongue making promises about what the rest of his body would do, and his hands…
“Mmm.” She sighed at the feel of his fingers sliding along the hem at the back of her tank top. Those long, elegant fingers, exploring her back. Now slipping up her spine. Now splayed across her shoulder blade, her bare skin.
He pulled her closer to him, a rough little jerk that pressed her sex hard against him. Oh, God, he was hard already, which made her feel better about the damp state of her underwear. His dick pressing against her made her aware of her own heat, her own slickness. Lori pressed back and felt him shudder.
His mouth broke away, breath harsh as his lips trailed down her jaw. She drew in a desperate gasp, overwhelmed already by the feel of his teeth on her neck and his hand sliding around, pulling her shirt up as he moved.
She was about to be nearly naked, exposed to his eyes and hands and mouth, and Lori was just tipsy enough to be thrilled instead of self-conscious. Some evil part of her brain whispered that she should be worried about the comparison to tight silicone, but she beat that voice down and stomped on it with imaginary work boots. Those steel-toed monsters were good for something.
Quinn’s hand finally found her breast, fingers curving under the slight weight, thumb dragging over her nipple.
“Ah,” Lori cried out, unable to hold back the startled sound. Embarrassing to be so affected by such a minor caress, but it felt so damn good. Because of the wine or the adrenaline or because it was Quinn…She didn’t know and didn’t care. This was it. Just what she’d been looking for.
Quinn tore his mouth from her neck with a curse and his hands fumbled roughly with her shirt before he managed to yank it up over her head. Before she could clear the hair from her face, he was on his knees in front of her, eyes blazing.
He growled, “Lean back.”
“Wh-what?”
“Lean back on your hands.”
Uncertain but fully willing to take a chance, she put her hands flat on the table behind her and arched her back.
Quinn smiled a pirate’s smile. “That’s it.”
When she glanced down to see what he meant, Lori thought that her breasts looked smaller in this pose, pulled high and taut. Before she could protest, his hand came into her line of sight, fingers trailing a butterfly touch over the curve of one breast.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Unbelievable. I’ve been imagining you for days.” His thumb brushed her peaked nipple again, and the skin crinkled tighter around it. Lori held her breath, watching.
One long, elegant finger traced the edge of her areola. “Like late dawn. A cool white sky warmed by pure blush pink.” It would’ve sounded sweet if his thumb and finger hadn’t closed over her nipple just then, squeezing pressure into a nerve that ran straight to her sex.
Lori closed her eyes and tried to breathe and feel and memorize it all as it happened. His fingers soothed, then squeezed again. She was gasping for air when wet pressure closed around her, and then his teeth, scraping fire.
“Oh,” she yelped, spine arching even farther. His hand closed over her other breast while his mouth worked, and Lori descended into pure pleasure. She’d never particularly enjoyed it when a man paid attention to her breasts. In fact, at times she’d found it vaguely physically disturbing, an irritant. But now she was so turned on, she wanted more, harder, something close to pain.
Lori gave up her pose and reached for Quinn’s hair to pull him greedily closer. He bit her—as reward or punishment, she wasn’t sure, but she enjoyed it all the same.
“More,” she groaned, and felt his hand tighten over the other breast. Then his mouth sucked harder while his teeth closed down and Lori wondered if she was bruising his skull.
