About Last Night (About Last Night #1)(58)

“Marcus?” He sounded mildly insulted. “Marcus? You’ve got to be kidding! He likes it rough. You would’ve hated that. He would’ve eaten you alive, Mia.” He scoffed, muttering to himself, “Marcus. What a joke.”

A sly smile crossed my face. I thought very carefully about what I was about to say next. “Well, now that I’m broken in, maybe I’ll book with him. It would be nice to see the other side of—” I squeaked when Quinn pulled himself over me, my arms pinned over my head, restrained by strong hands on my wrists.

His glare was cutting and his voice was low, dangerous. “You’re not booking with anyone. You’re officially cut off.”

A teasing smile settled on my face. My voice was breathy at the feel of his body on mine. Memories of the night before washed over me. My stomach coiled delightfully and I whispered half-honest, “I was only joking, Quinn.”

He didn’t respond for a long while, but when he did, it caused my nipples to bead. He uttered crudely, “If you haven’t got your fill, Mia, all you need to do is say the word.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Damn it, sassy retort! Where are you?

His lips curved into a smirk and I was done for. “You need more of this?” He ground him hips into mine. The friction was earth-shattering.

Spreading my legs, with my skirt hitched up at my hips, Quinn settled between my thighs, grinding the hard ridge hidden behind his jeans right where I needed it. I moaned. Loudly.

But then he was gone. My eyes followed him as he stood, reaching down to adjust himself, cursing, “Fuck, Mia. You’re my best friend’s sister.”

And there I was, thighs spread like a wanton hussy, my panties on display. I quickly covered myself, not yet trusting myself to speak.

He turned to me, hands on his hips, looking down at his feet. “I can’t do this.” He lifted his face, his eyes on me. “I’m not going to lie. You’re gorgeous, Mia. Whenever I’m around you, I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.” He paused then added quietly, “I want you, but I can’t do this.”

I almost did a double-take. Oh Lord. Did I hear what I thought I just heard? Matt Quinn just told me I was gorgeous! Not only that, but he said he couldn’t keep his hands off me. Off me! Insert squeak here.

By thunder, I was not letting this opportunity slip away!

I would do whatever I had to where Matt Quinn was concerned.





Chapter TwentySeven



Quinn




As I looked over at Mia, her doe eyes held me. With her tousled auburn hair draped over her shoulder, her full lips parted, wearing that pink blush I liked so much, saying no to her was harder than I thought.

She stayed silent a while, but then she moved. Slipping off the bed, her green polka dot dress bunching around her thighs, she stood, walking barefoot to meet me. When she stood in front of me, she spoke softly, “We’re not hurting anyone, Quinn.”

Fuck, she was killing me. “I can’t do it. It feels wrong.”

She reached behind her, and I heard the distinct sound of a zipper being undone. My eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

Swallowing hard, her voice trembled. “We’re adults. We both consent to this. I don’t see the problem.” She shrugged, and the top of her dress fell forward, revealing her perfect porcelain skin down to her soft stomach, her silky white lace bra on display.

Not fair.

I fought the urge to groan. Instead, I stared at her breasts and stated, “I’m not boyfriend material.” I lifted my head and my eyes searched hers. “If that’s what you’re after, that’s not me.”

She tried to smile, but it was weak. “I know, Quinn. You’re an escort. I don’t want you to quit your job.” She grinned, but I could tell it was forced. She tried to laugh it off. “You’re kind of good at it.”

I was so confused. “Then what? We f*ck till we work each other out of our systems? I don’t…I mean, what do you want from me? Because I don’t have a lot to offer.”

Hooking her thumbs into the waist of her dress, she gently pushed it down her legs, letting it fall to the ground, leaving her only in her white lace bra and matching tiny silken panties. She looked up at me through lowered lashes. “I just want to play.”

My arms shot out at their own accord, sliding my hands around her bare back, and I pulled her into me. “So nothing serious? Just sex?” She blushed, nodding. “And it stays between us. Harry won’t find out.” She shook her head. I felt like a jerk. This was Harry’s sister. But, f*ck, she was amazing. I was damn near sold. But I had one more thing to clarify. My hand slid down her back, over her ass, squeezing and kneading carefully, purposefully. “And if you start seeing someone, playtime ends.”

Her eyes fluttered closed at the feel of my hands on her ass. She replied a breathy, “Okay.”

I pulled her close, loving that this was real. I wasn’t being paid to put on a show. My true emotions and reactions could be exposed, and the woman I was with turned me on like a light switch. This was the first sexual experience I’d had off the books for two years, and I was going to savor it.

“I want your lips, baby.” My voice sounded strange and almost harsh. It was my turn to place orders. I was about to have sex with someone, simply because I wanted to. That was a great feeling. Freeing.