Page 50 of Shuttered Hearts

Quinn opens her mouth on a gasp and shatters with my name on her lips. I lighten my touch and slow my pace as she rides out the last of her orgasm, our eyes staying locked together. As her breathing returns to normal, I remove my hand from her leggings, bringing my fingers to my mouth and licking them clean. I moan at the taste of her.

Before either of us can say anything else, my phone rings from my jacket pocket.

Quinn groans, dropping her head to my chest, the center console still between us.

“It’s probably Ava. Wondering where I am,” I whisper, placing my hand on the back of her neck.

“Yeah, it’s late.” She shakes her head against me.

“Are you good?” I was so caught up in the moment, I didn’t think about how this would affect Quinn with her history. I’ve wanted her for so long, but if I rushed this and pushed her into something she didn’t want? I’ll never forgive myself. I know I asked for what she wanted, but in the heat of the moment, was she really clear-minded?

“Yeah.” She sighs against me. It takes her a minute, but when she lifts her head, there’s a shy smile on her face.

“You sure?” I bring my hand up to cup her cheek. I need to see the look on her face when she answers me.

She studies me, her eyebrows furrowing before a look of recognition crosses her face. “Oh, Dec, I’m good. I swear.” She looks down for a second before looking back up. “This isn’t the first time since …” She pauses, thinks about what to say, and tries again. “I got the help I needed.” She reaches up to cup my cheek, the smile returning. “I promise, I’m okay.”

“Okay.” I pull her back to me for a gentle kiss, lingering for a little bit.

My phone rings again. “I should get that,” I say reluctantly.

She groans. “Yeah.”

twenty-four

QUINN

Declan

We’re on our way.

I can’t wait to see you.

You saw me yesterday.

Declan

Yeah, at lunch. It’s been over 24 hours.

I’m spoiled with you.

You’re so cheesy *winking face emoji*

Declan

You secretly love it.

You can’t hide it anymore.

I smileas I set my phone on the counter and focus back on making the stuffing for Thanksgiving dinner.

“You look happy,” Emily says from next to me, where she’s mashing the potatoes.

“I am.”

“Declan?” she asks, bumping her hip against mine, a knowing smirk on her face.

“He’s definitely part of it.” I put the bread I’m shredding down and turn to look at Emily, but when I go to open my mouth, nothing comes out.

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