Page 56 of She Gives Love a Bad Name

Lips parted, she stares at me. Each breath draws her shirt tight against her chest. I ignore the ache in my balls at the temptation before me. She knows exactly what I’m talking about. Her pupils grow wider, consuming the green of her irises. Her tongue darts out to lick her lips. I’m at my fucking breaking point but manage to hold on to a few threads of self-control.

“Tell me the truth or I take you in tomorrow morning.” My hands clench into fists by my side. “I spent hours searching the city for you. I thought...” The words lodge in my throat, but I push past the emotion and choke them out. “I thought he came for you. I thought the murderer found you and carried you off to do God knows what to you.”

“I’m fine, Grant. I promise.” Her voice is soft, but she’s still holding back, like she doesn’t want me to know the truth about why she left.

“He could have seen you...taken you.” I close the tiny gap between us, bringing the tips of our shoes together. “You can’t be so careless.”

The delicate scent of her drifts around me, pulling me back to the memories of earlier on the sofa. I want to dive back into that moment so much it hurts. But it’s gone, like a leaf on the ebbing tide.

Her gaze finally drops. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. There was something important I needed to take care of. No one saw me, I promise.”

“You don’t know that.” I tip her chin up until I’m lost in her eyes once more. “This isn’t a game, Quinn. He’s out there, and if you give him the opportunity, he’ll finish what he started.”

“I know.” A thin coat of tears appears. “I won’t do it again.”

“I need more than your word.”

“I promise.” She rises up on her tiptoes and presses a soft kiss to my lips.

The sweet gesture releases a beast inside of me. I take her in my arms and deepen the kiss, tasting what I thought I had lost forever. She melts against me. I take what she offers, the slow, teasing slide of her tongue against mine. This woman, infuriating as she is, unsteadies me. I’m drunk on her, unwilling to function without her intoxicating presence.

She gently eases away, breaking the kiss. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I reluctantly release her and withdraw.

Her hand catches mine. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“If you want me to.”

“I do.” Her smile widens. With a teasing kiss, she turns and disappears into the bedroom.

I retrieve the bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. Barely enough for one shot. My cock can’t continue to take this torment. Somehow, I manage to keep myself from barging into the bathroom and instead retreat to the bar downstairs to get another bottle from Claude’s stash in the office.

On the floor, I find a small piece of metal lodged against the door jam. I pick it up. A St. Jude pendant on a thin chain. Strange. Neither Claude nor I carry St. Jude. I wait for Claude to finish behind the bar, then ask him about it. He’s adamant he’s never seen it before. I tuck it into my pocket and return upstairs with my bottle of whiskey and a persistent hard-on.

Inside, the apartment is silent. I peek into the bedroom and find Quinn passed out on the bed. Fuck.

I pour a double, take a long, hot bath, and crawl into bed behind her. My mattress feels strange after so many nights on the sofa, but it’s even stranger to have her in bed with me. The moment I settle on the mattress, she rolls over and nestles against me, throwing her thigh over mine. The oversized shirt she’s wearing rides high enough to give me a glimpse of her creamy ass.

I must be a goddamned saint because I drift off without acting on the impure thoughts in my mind. A thousand unanswered questions haunt my dreams.

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