Page 48 of Dust to Dust

“God help us when the wain gets here. She’ll have us wrapped around her wee little finger as much as her mother does.”

“Aye. I imagine she will.” I smiled at the thought of our future niece.

Jerking his chin at the bowl, Dare asked, “Any chance of me getting some of that?”

“None.”

“Come on, Quinn. She made a lot.”

“And I have a big appetite.”

Dare grinned. “Aye for Isla’s pussy.”

“Watch yourself,” I grunted at him as I went back to my chair.

Dare leaned in across the desk. “It appears she has an appetite for your monster cock.”

“She does not.”

“She cooked for you.”

“You heard her. She was raised to do shit like that.”

Dare rolled his eyes. “The wee lass was worried about you. Women don’t spend their days off making soup for a man they don’t care about regardless of how they were raised.”

“As I told you before, it’s not happening.”

Crossing his hands over his chest, Dare countered, “You can keep telling yourself that, but you might not have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice, and unlike you, I have tight control of my cock and my emotions.”

“Yeah, your emotions. But what about Isla’s?”

I furrowed my brows at him. “What about them?”

He grinned. “Just like Caterina, maybe Isla always gets what she wants, and she clearly wants you.”

To my utter surprise, Dare’s words sent unease creeping along my spine. Was he right? Did Isla want me as much as I wanted her? Sure, we’d shared a kiss the other night, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything more from me than sex.

Or did it?

If she pursued me, there wasn’t a chance in hell I could say no. I might be able to face down the worst of enemies, but the thoughts of her sent dread through my chest. Frowning, I shifted in my chair.

When I finally met Dare’s gaze, he winked at me. “Enjoy your soup.”

Chapter Twelve: Isla

After talking one one-on-one with each of the girls on shift, Caterina got an unanimous vote. She left with a beaming smile and a promise to start as soon as possible. I’d just seen her out when it was time for me to take the stage.

Once I began my dance, I stared into the crowd, searching for Quinn. Two nights ago, he’d sat next to the stage and watched me. I found myself hoping he would do it again. Having his eyes on me set me on fire.

Just as I hooked my leg on the pole, a towering shadow caught my attention at the bar. Before I started spinning, I peered into the dark to lock eyes with Quinn. He stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the bar.

Closing my eyes, I let my mind drift back to our night together. The way his lips had felt against my skin. His hands on my breasts. The feel of his cock between my legs.

It had all felt so very, very good.

After opening my eyes, I sought out Quinn again. When he shifted on his feet, I swore I could make out a bulge in his pants. The thought of him wanting me caused slickness to coat my thong. Rubbing my center against the pole didn’t help my growing desire. Instead, it just made me hornier. It was a poor substitute for Quinn’s dick.

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