About Last Night (About Last Night #1)(89)

I wasn’t that girl, that needy girl, who needed a man to stroke her hair and tell her how pretty she was. That wasn’t me. But Quinn was giving me something new and unfamiliar, something I craved—undivided attention.

Regardless of how my brother had treated him, he never spoke badly of Harry. In fact, it was the exact opposite. He told me stories about how Harry had saved his ass, about the time Harry took him in when he’d been sleeping in his car for a week, and how Harry had been closer to him than his own blood relatives.

Only, Harry was my blood relative, and I hated the divide my relationship was causing in my family. I loved Quinn, but Harry was my brother. I didn’t have a father, but I never missed having one, because Harry became everything I needed in a male role model. I loved him in a way that was unique and irreplaceable, and I was utterly lost without him. He was my best friend, my comrade, and his absence left a gaping hole in my heart.

I was hurting.

The beeping of the oven timer brought me back to the present and I suddenly realized I’d been standing in the kitchen for minutes without blinking. I took in a quick breath and walked forward to switch off the roast. Quinn would be here soon. I wanted to cook something nice for dinner. He deserved nice dinners with a knockout girlfriend.

At least I could provide one of the two.

Quinn had been hitting the gym every night since he’d been accepted in the Police Academy training program. He was in great physical condition as it was; I didn’t see the need for him to push himself, but he was convinced he needed to do more. He was so committed to doing something normal, something honorable. It was nice to see him put his all into something he was passionate about.

I smiled at the thought, and a faint ache pulsed in my chest.

I loved him so much…so very much.

The apartment door opened and I removed the roast from the oven. A long sigh sounded from behind me, and then strong arms wrapped themselves around me, pulling me into a hot, hard body.

“Would you look at you, being all domestic and shit?” He sounded faintly amused. Then he bit my ear gently and growled, “Oh, baby, you are so getting laid tonight.”

I swatted at him with my oven mitt and tried to pull away, feigning disgust. “Ugh. Get off. You’re all sweaty.”

His rough chuckle sounded in my ear. “Oh, hush now. You like me all sweaty. In fact, if I remember correctly, you liked it so much that you licked me all the way down to my c—”

Turning, I slapped my hands over his mouth, eyes wide, and hissed, “Oh, my God, stop!”

From behind my hands, his eyes smiled as he mumbled, “Dirty girl.” Then he frowned and mumbled some more. “Hey, what gives? I’ve been here a full minute and you still haven’t kissed me.” He paused a moment before adding, “Gimme dem lips, woman.”

What had I done so well in my life that I’d been granted the gift of this man?

My hands slid down to his shoulders, I smiled lightly up at him, stood on my tiptoes, and gently pressed my lips to his. He groaned immediately, his hands coming down to cup the cheeks of my ass, pulling me as far into his body as he could manage. He squeezed, and the slight pain made my core pulse in anticipation.

I pressed soft, wet kisses to his lips, pulling away only when I thought I wouldn’t be strong enough to if we kept going.

His eyes hooded in lust-filled mania, and I knew if I didn’t back away now, we’d end up naked on the kitchen floor, dinner forgotten. I backed up with my arms extended in warning. “No. We’re eating.” But Quinn grinned deliciously. I stomped my foot and whined, “Quinn! I cooked, dammit!”

An arm snaked around my middle and a smirking Quinn pulled me in, holding me close. The other arm came around me, holding me at the small of my back. I was being held in a way that made me feel both safe and protected. And it was better than nice.

It was wonderful.

My nose found its way to his collarbone and I breathed him in, part sweat, part cologne, and all Quinn. His warm, full lips gently kissed my forehead. “I missed you today.”

I reached up to fist the sides of his tee. “I missed you more.”

His hold loosened enough for him to wrap an arm around my shoulders and lead me to the stools behind the counter. “You cooked. Now you get to sit. I’m going to serve you, princess.”

There was no point in arguing. Quinn would do what Quinn wanted to do. I found this out rather quickly in our relationship, and to be honest, I didn’t mind letting Quinn pamper me. He loved me and wanted to show me he did. There was nothing wrong with a man showering affection on the woman he loved.

He pulled out two plates, carved the meat, and then plated it up, peeking up at me occasionally. I watched him closely, a feeling of weariness washing over me. I blinked slowly, exhausted.

“You’re looking a little better today. How are you feeling?”

I thought about it before lifting my shoulder in a shrug. I was a bit sick of talking about this.

Quinn placed my plate in front of me and I watched as he ate with gusto, moaning and groaning appreciatively, before he went back for a second helping. He looked down at my plate and spied me picking at my food. “Not hungry?”

I pushed my plate away with a sigh. It was making me feel ill. “Not really. I had a late lunch.” Quinn stopped eating long enough to cup my cheek and run a hand over my forehead. I swatted his hand away, rolling my eyes. “Relax, Mom. I feel fine.”