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What is Quinn implying? Whatever it is, I don’t like it.
“I would never,” I say, insulted he would insinuate something so vulgar.
“Wouldn’t you?” he questions, and as the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed, I fall, losing my balance.
Attempting to scramble up the bed proves futile as Quinn crawls on top of me, trapping my body under his massive frame.
“Get off,” I snarl, pushing at his chest.
“I plan to.” Quinn smirks hungrily, his gaze dropping to my chest as my black camisole has shifted, exposing the top of my breasts.
“Quinn, I’m serious.” I sigh, but that sigh transforms into a gasp when he bites me on the chin—hard.
“Stop,” I plead, but it’s pathetic because my disloyal body writhing underneath Quinn demonstrates I don’t want him to stop.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I…do,” I breathlessly state as his hands begin a slow, torturous journey of my body.
His lips never leave my skin, touching any part of exposed, heated flesh he can find.
Closing my eyes, I tell myself five more minutes, and then I’ll fight him off and go see Justin. But as he circles my nipple over my camisole, I know five minutes won’t be long enough.
That familiar heat builds in my center, and my traitorous body has ruled over my mind because I know Quinn is doing this as a distraction. But quite frankly, I couldn’t care less.
“Beautiful,” Quinn whispers against my arched throat, licking down my neck and lazily tonguing the dip between my collarbones.
My legs scissor impatiently, and Quinn removes his hand from my nipple, gliding his fingers to the waistband of my jeans. My camisole has ridden up, exposing my tummy, and Quinn circles his finger around my belly button.
I’m panting, trying to remain quiet, but as Quinn flicks open the button on my jeans, I whimper loudly, knowing what is about to come.
I hear the bedside table drawer open, and my eyes pop open, wondering what he is searching for.
“Shh, I’ll take care of you. Close your eyes.”
I nod, my eyes drifting shut, and Quinn’s fingers begin sliding down my zipper, stopping about three-quarters of the way.
I want him inside my pants and arch my hips up, urging him to oblige.
“So impatient.” He chuckles, and his warm breath tickles my heated chest.
Quinn softly places my arms above my head, and before I can question what he’s doing, the cold bite of steel snags my wrists, and I hear the unmistakable click of handcuffs snapped into place.
My eyes pop open, and I arch my neck backward to see my wrists tightly bound to the golden-framed headboard.
“Motherfucker,” I curse, pulling on my wrists, which don’t budge an inch. “Quinn, let me go.”
“No,” Quinn simply replies as he pushes off me before I have a chance to bite or kick him.
As I meet his amused eyes, I know I’ve been played.
Quinn and I are just as stubborn as one another, and he knew that I would go to Justin because, eventually, Quinn would have to sleep. I also know that he never meant all the crass things he said, and I breathe out a sigh of relief.
Looking down at his black jeans, I realize his little ploy has turned us both on. So I lick my lips because it’s time to get even.
“Well, the least you can do is finish me off,” I say, huffing my loose hair off my face.
“Nope, I think you can just remain cuffed to the bed, thinking about what you did,” he playfully scolds, like he’s reprimanding a child.
