Page 50 of Roommate's Guide to Love

“Unless you’re flirtin’, then you’re all smiles.”

Can’t argue with him there. At least with what these two have seen from me over the years. I’ve been known to turn it on to appease customers, or back in my manwhore days, to whatever lovely lady I wanted to take home that night. But that version of Porter has gone to the wayside over the past few years. “I promise you both, it’s nothing to get your boxers in a bunch over. So go back to watching whatever god forsaken show you made me turn on and drink your beer.”

I turn my back from them, wanting to make sure I don’t give anything away as I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I grab a bucket of beers for the construction crew that rolled in about an hour ago before reading Quinn’s response.

Quinn: Sounds good. I’m *very* hungry.

Porter: You are, are you? Even though you had them last night? From what I remember, you swallowed every last bit.

Quinn: I did. And I enjoyed every last drop. But I’m always ready for more.

Indeed she did. Quinn came in last night under the guise of a beer and wings for dinner.

I knew exactly what that meant. And because I’m the owner, and I can do whatever I want, I sent Jenny home early, telling her I could handle it, locked the door when the bar emptied out at midnight, then proceeded to fuck Quinn over a bar stool before she sucked me off in my office while I was trying to count money.

Trying being the operative word.

Porter: You’re bad.

Quinn: You love it.

Porter: Fuck yeah, I do.

Quinn: My place after close?

Porter: I’ll text you when I’m leaving.

Quinn: I’ll be the one naked and ready.

Before I can reply back, Quinn sends me a selfie that somehow I can tell she’s completely naked, yet only teases me with the parts of her that make me salivate at the thought of kissing and touching every piece of skin she’s showing me.

Hell, who am I kidding? I’d worship that woman’s body every day, twice on Sundays, and throw in an extra service on Wednesday nights just to make sure I’ve properly paid respects.

Porter: Fuck. You’re killing me woman.

Quinn: Good. See you tonight.

Now I really need to keep my face hidden from Harry and George, or any other customer for that matter. I don’t know what’s going to be more obvious, the red I can feel on my cheeks, the smile I can’t seem to put away, or the bulge growing in my pants. So to be safe, I shout for Jenny to watch the bar while I go grab something from the office.

I shut the door behind, me, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself from all thoughts of Quinn Banks. The only problem is that now this whole office has her scent on it. I can barely be in here anymore and not think about Quinn beautifully laid on my desk as I fucked her until we both screamed.

That night was…God…nearly two full days later and I still haven’t been able to make my brain come up with words to describe it. Yes it was hot. Probably the hottest time we’ve ever spent together. I don’t know if it was the emotions, or the place, or what, but I know that if there’s ever going to be a memory of Quinn burned into my brain, it’s her bent over this desk, her perfect ass bouncing on my cock as I left her ass red.

I had no intentions of doing anything with Quinn that night, I really didn’t. Hell, I didn’t think I’d come back to the bar after I slipped out the back door to get my head right after seeing Missy. I knew the rumors were going to go flying around the bar, and it was just a matter of time before Quinn or Jenny would come check on me under the ruse of needing to grab something from the office.

But at some point in the night, as I was sitting in the darkness of my living room, I felt like the walls were starting to close in on me. I don’t have many places I can go and just think. But one place that never ceases to come through is the bar’s office. I don’t know what I believe when it comes to life after death, but when I have a problem, or am in a funk, I sit in the office and I swear I can feel Pops’ presence. And if I ever needed to feel like he was here with me, it was that night. Unfortunately, the more I sat there, the more questions I conjured in my mind of why the hell Missy showed up out of the blue, and why she ran off like a bat out of hell.

I knew it was only a matter of time before Quinn would force herself in to check on me, but even then I figured I’d just vent to her. Had to be better than keeping everything inside, right? But what happened after…holy shit, I wasn’t ready for that.

Though I should’ve been. I’m really some sort of idiot if I thought I could be alone with Quinn Banks and keep my hands to myself. I don’t know what kind of spell that woman has cast over me, but it’s strong and potent. Part of me hopes it never fades away. The other part of me is scared shitless for thinking that.

A knock on the door thankfully breaks my thoughts from whatever road my Quinn-filled mind was about to take me. I also breathe a little because I know it’s not Quinn. It’s not her knock.

“Yeah?”

The door cracks open to show my favorite cousin standing on the other side.

“Can I come in?”

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