Page 44 of She Gives Love a Bad Name

Chapter Fifteen

Grant

Her scent wraps aroundme, and I’m harder than I ever thought possible. The taste of her arousal lingers on my tongue. It’s been so damn long since I’ve eaten pussy.

But this is nothing like those uncomfortable past encounters.

No. Quinn is nothing like Veronica, nothing like any of the women I’ve been with before. She challenges me, pulls me out of my comfort zone, makes me crave more than I should dare to want.

This insatiable temptress is a dream come true, even if she is nothing but trouble with a capital T.

Quinn trembles beneath me, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. She bites her lip, and her eyes flutter open, her gaze landing on me. I make a show of licking her cream off my fingers. Her eyes flash with desire, and a whimper escapes those tantalizing lips. It takes all my effort not to lean down to kiss her senseless, to let her taste herself on my tongue, to sweep her up in the moment and stake my claim.

“Please...” Her voice is breathless. She’s drunk on her orgasm.

I plan on drowning us both in orgasms before the night is over.

“What do you need, hmm?”

“You.”

“What about me?” I tease a fingertip along the crease of her thighs.

“I want you inside me.”

The words heat my blood.

“I want you to fuck me, Grant.” She takes my shirt in her fist and pulls me down. “Now.”

Her mouth crashes on mine in a torrential kiss.

My words are lost on her tongue. Her breasts press against my chest, and I curse the fabric of my shirt for blocking the sweet slide of her skin against mine.

She tugs the shirt from my pants and fumbles with my belt while her lips work their magic on mine. Her hand grazes my cock as she moves, and need pulses through me, hot and sharp like a knife drawing blood.

Fuck, I want her with every ounce of my being. I can’t seem to get enough of her heat, her scent, her touch.

After nearly a week of torment, I can’t fight the pull any longer. She might not be what I expected, but she’s exactly what I need.

A knock at the door echoes in the back of my mind like a distant explosion. I draw back, panting against her kiss-swollen lips, my cock aching for her, her body slick and hot arching against mine. I must be hearing things.

The knock shakes the door this time.

“Grant!” My brother’s voice reverberates through the wood.

“Goddamn it to hell.”

Quinn’s eyes widen in horror as I steal a quick kiss and stand up. She scrambles to grab the crocheted afghan draped over the back of the sofa and wraps it around her body.

I manage to refasten my pants and belt as I walk toward the door. Unlocking it, I take a breath to calm my racing blood. In two seconds, I would’ve been buried deep inside her, and now this. My cock aches, and I’ve never wanted to tell my brother to fuck off more than at this moment.

I swing the door open. “What do you want, Claude?” I hiss through my teeth, keeping the door between my brother and the disheveled woman on the sofa.

His gaze skims over the haphazard state of my clothes. He has the decency to look embarrassed and clears his throat. “Sorry I interrupted. There’s someone downstairs you should speak with. Now.”

“Now?”

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