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I sober. "Whether or not we have sex is up to you. I'm not here to take advantage of you.”
"OK, all right, I might have some rules of my own."
This ought to be amusing… “Let's hear them."
"You can't fall in love with me."
I stare at her, dumbfounded. "You don't wantmeto fall in love withyou? Oh, baby, that is so, so rich."
She holds up a hand, "You say that now. Like you think that I am so easy to resist. That you're not going to fall for me. But you haven't really gotten to know me. I’m charming, okay? And once I submit to you, or whatever it is that we do, and if we spend a lot of time with each other, which something tells me we will, you might fall in love with me. And you just need to know right now, thatcan’thappen. Off the table. I don't do love, and I don't do long-term commitments."
"Me neither. How convenient."
"We agree then.” Any other woman would be flushing as red as a beet right now. Quinn looks like if she were wearing a scarf, she’d fling it over her shoulder and put on a pair of shades.
"Do we?"
Her eyes spark at me. "Adriano," she says in a purr of a whisper. "You want me to submit to you because you want to enjoy our time together.Yourkinky needs are met, andmykinky needs are met." She draws in a breath and lets it out slowly. "Some people use drugs. Some people use alcohol." She shakes her head. "Neither of those are my drug of choice."
I already know the answer, but boy do I want to hear her say it. “What is your drug of choice… Quinn?”
* * *
CHAPTERSEVEN
“SPEED DATING MR. HIGH AND MIGHTY”
Quinn
“Pain. It’s pain.”
Well, now that I’ve gottenthatoff my chest… I mean, if we aren’t going to the club, I need my fix, and I’d bet good money he will beexcellentat dominating. He’s got the stern part down, that’s for sure.
We walk to a balcony with a table set for two. The vast expanse of the sky above is better than a roof, any day. "I am starving, buddy."
Adriano gives me a look. "I am many things, Quinn. I am not yourbuddy."
I stifle the urge to roll my eyes at him. Here we go again, Mr. High and Mighty.
He doesn't sit down at the table but pulls out one of the chairs and places it in the center of the balcony. I wonder what the hell he's doing, and I further wonder why my heart is beating faster. Usually when men with a sadistic streak pull out a chair, they have seriously devious plans up their sleeves.
Ask me how I know, sometime.
I can usually talk my way out of tricky situations. "Well, it feels a little odd calling you husband. So, I'll settle on Adriano. Does that sound good? Also, why sit there when all the food’s overhere?”
"Come here."
I'm starting to think it was probably not such a good idea to tell this guy that I like pain, because that look in his eyes tells me he likes it too, but maybe when he's on the delivering side.
On the one hand he says we don't have to have sex. But…I like sex. I like it alot,especially when it’s paired with my other drug of choice. On the other…
“Quinn.”
Right, so he just told me to come over to him and I'm still over here, which means that I'm technically disobeying him.
Huh. I'm a little curious what… disobedience will mean.
But when he begins to narrow his eyes and roll up his sleeves, I think better of it.
