Dirty Rogue: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(40)

Quinn’s hands are already working at the straps of her tank top, pulling it over her head. She is insatiable.

The bedroom is down a narrow hallway, tucked away in the back of the suite. In two steps I’m next to her, my arm around her waist, and as she’s unhooking the clasp of her bra and tugging it off, I’m leading Quinn to my massive bed.

When she sees the king-size masterpiece, impeccably made up, she gives a little sigh of pleasure. “It’s impressive,” she comments, then turns and starts to unbutton my shirt. “But not as impressive as you.”





Chapter 31

Quinn





What happens on Christian’s bed can’t be described as making love. It’s a quick and dirty f*ck, with me on top, but we have a lot more room than we did in the Town Car.

When we’ve finished, I sprawl out on the bed and wait for my heart rate to quiet down and my breathing to slow.

“That…was incredible.”

“It’s always incredible with you.”

I roll over and kiss his cheek. “You’re too sweet.”

“I was thinking about something in the car.”

“What?”

He turns on his side to look into my eyes, and I mirror him. In this moment, at least, I don’t see a flicker of doubt.

“We need to come up with a title for what we are.”

My heart skips a beat, then it speeds up. Are we really going to talk about this now?

“Like, Lord and Lady Pierce?” I say, letting out a nervous laugh. I didn’t know how badly I wanted Christian to bring this up until he did, and now that he has, I’m for some reason afraid that the moment will slip away.

He grins at me. “If you want. But my thoughts were more along the lines of…introducing you as my girlfriend.”

I can’t wipe the smile off my face. “I do,” I joke, echoing hypothetical wedding vows. I’m only half kidding, but I’ll never admit it.

Christian bursts out laughing, the sound deep and musical. “I remember what we said the other night. It’s still true for me. Is it true for you?”

“Yes,” I say, my expression turning serious. “It doesn’t make sense, but it’s still true.” Truth or not, I can’t bring myself to say the words again. I’m too consumed by the jitters. The tattoo on his bare chest catches my eye, and I spend a few seconds tracings its curves and lines with my gaze. It’s an intricate coat of arms, the thick lines dark on his skin, and the design is divided into different sections, each with an image inside. Something pricks at the back of my mind. Something is off about it, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.

“We can’t be public, though. My job—”

“I know. We’ll work it out.”

“Good.” I let out a breath. I’m still not willing to give up my job over this. Maybe if we were married…nah, I’d still want to work. I’m not the stay-at-home type.

“You don’t think it makes sense?”

“No,” I say, rolling over onto my back. Christian slides across the bed, and then traces a finger over my jawline. “We just met, and I’m barely out of my last long-term relationship, and you’re a playboy who—”

“Prove it.”

“Oh, stop. You’re at the Swan almost every night with a different woman!”

“I haven’t been.”

“Since when?”

“Since you.”

His deep blue eyes are locked on mine. Maybe it doesn’t matter that all this happened fast. What we feel when we’re together is the most important thing, and right now I feel complete. Goddamn perfect.

Except…

I glance around Christian’s bedroom, at the expensive, heavy furnishings, spotless and neatly arranged. Then I look back into his eyes. “I’m not like you, though.”

A muscle twitches in his cheek, and again I feel that strange energy, that sensation that tells me I might have hit a nerve. I don’t see how I could…

“How so?” His question comes a bit too late.

“I’m not rich!” I push myself up to sitting against the pillows piled against the headboard. “I’m pretty sure this cottage is actually a castle.” I give the word “cottage” air quotes, and Christian’s face is instantly relaxed again.

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

“What does matter to you?”

He presses his lips together thoughtfully. “There’s something about you that I can’t ignore. When you’re in the room, my attention is just drawn to you. You’re so…you’re so goddamn confident, so sure of yourself, so hot…” Christian plants several kisses down the side of my neck, then pulls back. “I can trust you.”

“I’m pretty sure I can trust you, too.”

His reaction is instant, and it’s only a flash, but I see it—fear. It’s not something that often appears on Christian’s face.

“What was that?”

“What?” he says, his half-smile already back in place.

“You looked…” I don’t want to embarrass him. I don’t want to be the kind of woman who comes on a romantic getaway with a man and then hounds him for every single questionable expression that crosses his face. “You just looked a little freaked out for a second.” I try to lighten the moment. “Maybe I’m seeing things. That kind of vigorous sex we had can play tricks on your mind.”