Page 14 of More than Paper

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,runs through my head, but I’m not sure why.

3

Jamison

My dick isin a state of chaos. From the moment I lay eyes on Quinn, I tell it to stay down, but it isn’t listening.

Quinn isn’t just gorgeous with her wavy strawberry blonde hair, blue doe eyes, and pouty lips. She’s a mix of fiery but sweet. Innocent yet sophisticated. Kind but sassy.

Xander is in a coma with a brain injury, and all I can think about is how I want to get this girl alone and find out everything about her.

And when I do get her alone, she tells me that she does yoga and edits sex scenes for a living.

I could have guessed the yoga, but…exactly how flexible is she?

Throughout the day, a sexy blush fills her face whenever I catch her looking or if I get too close. She seems inexperienced, but she reads and makes suggestions about how to make sex scenes hotter.

Jesus. How many fantasies does she have that I can help her play out?

On the way home, her face lies on my dick. I should have earned a medal for the amount of constraint it took for me not to unzip my pants and have her lick me like a lollipop before deep throating me when I woke her up.

And then she moans.

She sits in Chase’s kitchen and fucking moans with her eyes shut.

I think my cock is about to burst out of my pants.

After that, I can’t help myself and have to not only touch her but press against her, the moment we are alone.

I’m about to kiss her when the fire alarm goes off. And then Chase and Vivian run in, so the moment is over.

Quinn and I finish cooking dinner without anything else burning. The four of us eat and have another glass of wine. It’s getting late, and Chase says he will show Vivian to her room.

I stand up and lift Quinn’s bag.

“Take it, that’s my hint it’s bedtime?”

“I’m not tired. Are you tired after the nap you had?”

Please say you aren’t tired.

She hesitates but then says, “No.”

I take her hand, pull her down the hall, and drop her bag on her bed. “Put on your jammies and come down to my place.”

“Your place?”

“Yes. I’m in a separate wing.”

“A separate wing?” she cries out.

“Yes.”

When she’s done gaping, she says, “Okay. Give me a minute.”

I step out of her room and shut the door.

“Great!” I hear her mutter before she opens the door and lets out a big sigh. “I didn’t pack any pajamas.”

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