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“It’s just…you,” I say, kissing her because there’s no better punctuation. “I laid out these appetizers tonight, but they don’t fit at all. You’re a banquet of a woman, Quinn Lemarr. And I’m not sure I ever want my fill.”
The purposeful silence is all hers this time. But I like it. I revel in it. I’m even gloating, being the one to throw her into a moment of confusion and deliberation that doesn’t just flash in her eyes now. It flickers, fiery and intense, over all the lush curves of her face…
Until coalescing into her lips. And beyond them.
Into the mouth she invites me to kiss again. So fully. So forcefully. Taking her wetness and heat as I give back with my drive and domination. Stabbing into her submissive depths in all the ways I want to be claiming her gorgeous body. Without stopping. Without mercy. Without caring about the pants I’m ready to just tear away and—
A chainsaw rizzes the air.
No. It’s just my damn phone again.
I yank back like the power tool has sliced the length of my cock, struggling not to drown in the quixotic spell that now defines the woman’s face. Or to preen about the shake in her fingers as she shoves her hair back again. Her curls are wilder now. Oh yes, I did that too. Another victory dance I can’t indulge right now. I don’t dare.
Time. We’re burning too much time.
“So…ermmm…wow,” she stammers. “Can we figure out how to bottle that stuff? Because I did put a Mr. Z cologne on the brand elevation list, and if that’s part of the secret sauce…”
Her pause is on purpose, mixed with some secret sauce of her own. The insecurity that creeps in on her in strange places, as if her instincts aren’t good enough to be part of the conversation. As if she’s still on the verge of selling me on a switch to Blanca Appa.
Which was never going to happen. But especially not now.
There’s no better time but now to tell her that. Along with the other ka-boom that she has no choice about hearing.
“Quinn.” I work to form a new framework for her, squeezing her hand and setting my shoulders. “I’m sure every one of your concepts is amazing—”
The edges of her mouth take instant plummets. The light snuffs from her gaze. “Okay. So you do want to work with Blanca instead. And no problem.” Her new smile is as forced as a beauty pageant runner-up. “I get it.”
“No. No.” I wrap her fingers together. “You don’t. I only want you, Quinn.” And there’s my understatement of the last hundred and fifty years. “It’s just that—”
The sheen in her eyes gets thicker. “Just that what?” she spits out.
“There’s not going to be an elevation. Or expansion. Or lawyers and copyrights and whatever else you’re calling it.”
I expect that she’s the one to jerk back now. It’s no easier to allow or to bear.
“Quinn…I have to disappear. And you’re the one who has to help me do it.”
