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“You know.”
“You’re right, I do know. I know that all I’ve thought about the last six years is you. I’ve wanted to do nothing more than take care of you and…” He looked me square in the eyes and swallowed like he was stopping himself from saying something more. Then he continued, “And if I hadn’t allowed my guilt for wanting you more than I wanted my wife to eat at me. If I hadn’t let it guilt trip me into giving Jenna the baby she begged me for, we wouldn’t be having this conversation today.”
“We wouldn’t?”
“We would’ve had a very different and less complicated conversation a very long time ago.” His thumbs traced the top of my bum cheeks as they ran over the edge of my black lace knickers and my feverish skin.
“Do you know what people are going to say? What they’re going to think of us?”
“Do I look like I give a flying fuck about what people say or think about me? We didn’t get where we are because we gave a shit about gossip or appearances, Quincy.”
“I know, and you can say that now but when people start talking and it gets hard and—”
“I don’t do easy, I never have. And FYI I like it hard.” He laughed as he nuzzled my neck.
“That’s a shame because I feel quite easy when it comes to you.” I slipped my hand into the top of his dark grey suit trousers. The back of my fingers skimming his erection before I closed my hands around his black leather belt.
“That works out well for both of us then.” He squeezed my arse so hard it felt like his fingers were under my skin. “This is never going to be just about sex. Otherwise I would’ve already been inside you more times than you can even imagine...and I know you’ve imagined it.” He licked up the side of my neck to my ear before he sucked the lobe into his mouth and bit down.
Oh. My. Good. Fucking. God.
He may as well have had his tongue in between my legs.
“Jamie.” I moaned as he nipped and licked the skin behind my ear.
“What?”
I shivered, my skin covered in goose bumps as his hot breath cooled on my moist skin.
“If you’re not going to fuck me right now you need to stop torturing me.” I rasped as the edge of his belt cut into my palms.
“I want to, Quincy.” He hooked his thumbs over the elastic of my knickers and twisted them. The damp fabric rubbing and pressing against my pussy.
I couldn’t help but gasp as heat ran all the way from the top of my head and the tips of my curled toes crashing like duelling tidal waves at my core.
“I want to pull these down around your thighs, bend you over my desk and bury myself in you.”
Fucking breathe, Quincy. Use your freaking lungs.
“Just do it, Jamie, please.”
“Not here, Quincy.” He slipped his hands out of my trousers and cupped my face. “The first time I fuck you, I want to hear you.”
Jamie
“Seriously Willow. I hate you sometimes.” Probably wasn’t the best way to get my sister to take me seriously. Honestly? I was pretty sure she was incapable of taking anything seriously. Including my desperate need to plan a perfect date.
Date. Date?
Dating seemed so juvenile. I hadn’t even really dated Jenna, in hindsight that should’ve said a lot about the future of our relationship.
I don’t know, dating just seemed like what unsure people did. And I was one-hundred percent sure that I did not want to mess things up with Quincy.
What if it doesn’t work out though?
Things would become awkward. She’d probably not want anything else to do with me. I would’ve lost her and my goddaughter on top of everything else.
Shit, what the fuck are you thinking?
