The Best Part of Me (15 page)

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Authors: Jamie Hollins

BOOK: The Best Part of Me
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“Earth to Quinn.” Someone waved a hand in front of her face.

“I'm sorry, what?” she asked, refocusing on them.

“I said,” Erin stressed, “would you take care of the birthday cake?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Erin was crossing things off a list in front of her. “Oh, and can someone please talk to Ewan about getting some beer? He might give us a better price if we get it through him.”

Before Lisbeth could jump in, Quinn volunteered.

“Is there something going on with the two of you?” Lisbeth asked as she grabbed another Coke from the refrigerator. “Darcy told me that Ewan was at the performing arts center, and you two hung out. Where was I when all this happened? He's never
hung out
with any of us.”

Quinn smiled at Lisbeth. “I'm pretty sure you were sticking your tongue down some guy's throat.”

“There definitely was a tongue and throat involved, amongst other things.”

“Jesus,” Darcy muttered.

“No, seriously, Quinn. I feel I should probably warn you about Ewan. You might be a little too…what word am I looking for?…” Lisbeth said thoughtfully, “inexperienced for him.”

Quinn tilted her head and wondered where Lisbeth was going with this lecture.

“I just don't want you to be upset if he's not into you.”

Quinn smiled. “Thanks, Lisbeth. I appreciate the warning.”

“Honestly, Lisbeth, I think Quinn knows what she's doing. She's got a hell of a better chance than you do,” Darcy said. “And if I remember correctly, things didn't go quite the way you planned when you went after him. And you're what I would call…what word am I looking for?…over-experienced?”

Erin and Quinn both tried to hide their smiles as Lisbeth glared at Darcy from across the table. “Whatever. I'm just trying to be nice and warn her is all. She's not from around here. She doesn't know the type of guy he is. I mean, you've probably talked to him what…once or twice?”

Quinn didn't answer, just sipped her drink.

“He probably just feels responsible for whatever happened to you in that alley, and he feels like he's your big brother or something.”

She was so tempted to say something about her and Ewan. So tempted. If only to see the look of bewilderment and then disappointment on Lisbeth's face. But she kept her mouth closed.

“Ewan likes women with no inhibitions. And you're nothing like that, Quinn. You're sweet and nice and too vanilla for him. You don't honestly think you can keep a guy like that, do you?”

“No offense, Lisbeth, but you don't know anything about me. Thank you for the warning. Duly noted. Now can we please talk about something else?” Quinn said to the table at large.

Darcy smirked. “So Quinn, about this cake,” Darcy said. “I don't want anything fancy. Maybe a white cake. Oh! And strawberries. Lots of strawberries.”

“Damn it, Darcy. You're just saying that because you know I'm allergic to strawberries!” Lisbeth yelled.

“I swear it never crossed my mind,” she tried to say with a straight face.

Quinn couldn't stop the giggle before it slipped out. “Darcy, you're in luck. I know how to make a mean
vanilla
cake with strawberry frosting.”

“Quinn, that's so
sweet and nice
of you,” Erin said.

The three of them laughed as Lisbeth's face turned red.

“You're all bitches.”

Chapter 12

It was after midnight, but Ewan's whole body came alert when Quinn walked into the pub. She had on a red hooded raincoat that was dripping wet from the downpour they were having. She wore faded jeans and a light blue V-neck T-shirt. Her hair was pulled up away from her face, and her cheeks were flushed from the air outside.

He'd never seen anyone look sexier in a pair of jeans.

Ewan watched as she hung her jacket on a peg by the door before getting cornered by old Mr. Shaw near the fireplace.

“You know, if you keep staring at her like that, you'll burn a hole straight through her.”

His uncle Connor sat across from him at the bar finishing his last pint of the evening. He'd made his scheduled Friday night stop to catch up on business at the pub and to have a few drinks.

“Had a change of heart about Miss Adler, have you?”

Ewan didn't answer his uncle. He just kept watching as Mr. Shaw explained something to Quinn quite animatedly.

“Son, you might want to go over there and rescue her from Shaw. He'll keep her there for hours talking about beets. The man has the strangest obsession with root vegetables.”

Ewan watched as Quinn politely laughed and smiled at the old man. She slowly tried to ease her way toward the bar. Shaw was turning in his seat, and Ewan narrowed his eyes at the old man, who was ogling her ass as she walked away.

He'd thought about that ass all day long. He might have even dreamed of it last night. That and her perfect tits and the way her tight pussy had welcomed him. He had really underestimated just how perfect her body was. Here he'd thought she was thin as a reed. Although she was on the slender side, turned out she was cut and toned in all the right places.

He had no idea why he'd followed her into the garden shed last night. He'd seen her slip away from the fight and before he knew it, he'd been chasing her through town back to her aunt's place. The sight of her throwing things and screaming at the ceiling had amused him in some sort of twisted way. He knew he'd caught her in a weak moment. A moment she probably didn't want the world to see.

But guess what, world? Quinn Adler didn't really have all her shit together after all.

He'd meant to throw more fuel on her fire by taunting her to hit him. But the more she'd fought, the more he'd wanted her.

God, she was nothing like he'd expected. He was beginning to see that she had sharper edges than he'd first thought.

Maybe it was the lack of sex, but last night with Quinn had rocked him to the core. He'd felt satiated as soon as he'd come down from his orgasm, but he'd known immediately that he wasn't anywhere close to being satisfied.

As he watched her make her way toward the bar, he didn't think spending every night with Quinn for the next month would end in complete satisfaction. It just proved yet one more reason Quinn Adler was an enigma.

He'd expected to feel less of a pull toward her after it was over, but it'd had the opposite effect. He was on the verge of throwing the last few patrons out, locking the front door, and taking her on the pub's bar. Logistically speaking, that wouldn't work, as the bar was too high. Maybe one of the booths would be better.

“Good evening, lass,” his uncle said to Quinn as she pulled herself up on the stool beside him.

“Hi, Mr. McKenna.” She met Ewan's gaze and smiled. “Hi, Ewan.”

“Hey.”

She bit her lower lip, and all of a sudden there was no more room left underneath the zipper of his jeans. He needed to get rid of all these people.

Uncle Connor cleared his throat. “Well, it's late and the Mrs. is surely wondering where I am.” He shrugged on his tweed jacket. “Give my best to your aunt, young lady.”

“I will,” she replied. “Good night.”

With a quick wink to Ewan, he moseyed toward the door, trying to stay clear of Shaw on his way out. Ewan regarded Quinn as she propped her elbows on the bar. “You want a drink?”

She shook her head. “No, thanks. I've had plenty this evening.”

He leaned against the bar across from her. He could smell the slightest hint of beer, and her eyes were a little weary. “You look tired,” he said.

She shrugged, taking a deep breath. “I had a rather late night last night.”

“Did you?” he asked.

The sexy grin on her face had him gripping the edges of the bar. Her shirt was thin enough that he could see the outline of her white bra underneath. He was burning up inside. He looked into her eyes, and he hoped his expression told her all she needed to know about what he was going to do to her.

He'd told himself that the next time they were together he would take it slow. In the garden house, he'd been so overcome with lust that his body acted of its own volition.

But as he looked across the bar at her, his dick was taking control again, and a slow rendition of what'd happened the night before was out of the question.

“Are you going to be free soon?” she asked.

He counted five people lingering over by the fireplace. Shit. Maybe if he started turning off the lights they'd get the hint.

“I think they're talking about vegetables or something.” She looked over toward the door.

Ewan chuckled. “They can damn well talk about vegetables somewhere else.”

He walked around the end of the bar and coughed loudly. He scraped a chair on the old floorboards before swinging it up and dropping it loudly upside down on a tabletop.

“Ewan, are you closing early tonight? It's quarter till one,” Mr. Shaw asked.

“Yeah, sorry. I have to count some inventory before the weekend,” Ewan answered. He moved on to the next table and started pulling more chairs up.

“All right, we'll be heading out then,” the old man said. He looked over to Quinn at the bar before saying, “Miss Adler, do you need me to walk you home?”

“I'll be okay, Mr. Shaw.” Quinn smiled. “But thanks for asking.”

“All right, dear. Maybe Ewan here can make sure you get home.” He clapped Ewan on the shoulder with an exaggerated wink before pulling the door open. They all exchanged good nights, and Ewan locked the door behind them. As soon as he was sure they'd made their way across the street and out of sight of the pub, he shut off the front lights.

“I hope you're not tired,” he said as he slowly walked toward her. “'Cause I'm going to keep you up all night.”

“That sounds nice.”

Nice? He shook his head. “Would you like me to tell you what I had in mind?” he asked as he stopped in front of her.

She nodded slowly as the smile in her eyes faded, replaced by a nervous anticipation. He was glad she was finally grasping the seriousness of the situation.

“First,” he began, as he pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, “every single stitch of your clothing is coming off. And once I've had my fill of looking at your naked body, I'm going to take my tongue and lick this”—he brushed his thumb over her left nipple—“until you moan. Then I'll move my teeth to this one,” he continued, this time gently pinching her right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “until you can't catch your breath. Then I'm going to fuck you with my fingers and make you come.”

Her startled eyes shot up to his face as she sucked in her lower lip.

“And if you don't stop biting your lip, I'm not gonna be able to make it up the fucking stairs before I kick my plan into action. That would of course be fine with me, but it wouldn't be very comfortable for you on those hard steps.”

She released her lip from behind her teeth and swallowed.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she whispered.

Goddamn.

His mouth was on hers so fast she didn't have time to take a breath. He grabbed her ass and squeezed hard. She pulled air from his mouth as she gasped. He hoisted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist and carried her quickly up the stairway, pausing only to throw open his apartment door and switch on the lights.

He feverishly licked along the insides of her mouth like it was a flavor he'd never tasted before. She closed her lips and sucked on his tongue.

Holy fuck.

After kicking the door shut, he unceremoniously dropped her onto the couch. He looked down at her as he stood panting beside the sofa. She was sprawled out, watching him with pleading eyes.

“Plan B.” He ripped his shirt over his head. He pulled open the button on her jeans and quickly lowered the zipper. She lifted her hips up so that he could pull the pants down her legs, revealing white cotton panties with a tiny pink bow in the middle of the waistband. He put an arm under her to prop her up while he helped her yank her T-shirt over her head. Her bra matched her underwear with a pink bow tied in the middle of her breasts. With one knee nudged between her thighs, he crawled up the sofa and let his weight rest on his forearms until he could feel the warm skin of her abdomen against his stomach.

He returned to her mouth, demanding her to let him in, which she did without hesitation. Their tongues tangled, and she lifted her pelvis into where his erection strained against his fly. The touch of her warm, silky skin seared him to the point that his blood was boiling. He licked and kissed his way across her chin. He ran his teeth down the tender cord on the side of her neck.

She turned her head and moaned into the couch cushion, and he could feel her trembling beneath him. He smelled lavender along her collarbone and ran his tongue around the hollow at the base of her neck. Her fingernails dug into the muscles on his back, and the sweet sting almost did him in.

He'd wanted to go slow. He'd wanted to savor her, take every delicious part of her into memory. But he was so close to losing it he couldn't do anything but pray he'd get his zipper down in time.

She turned her head and sucked his earlobe into her mouth, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut so his brain could yell at his dick to calm the fuck down. With the patience of a horny teenager, he unzipped himself. With no grace whatsoever, he yanked her panties far enough down her legs to allow her to open for him. And with the gentleness of a rutting bull, he pushed into her in one strong thrust.

Quinn gasped loudly. He stilled and silently willed her not to move. She felt so good that he was on the brink of embarrassing himself. Her head was thrown back with her hair spread over the arm of the sofa. She looked at him through lowered lids as she breathed in short, quick breaths.

He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of her surrounding him. Her muscles squeezed him from inside in response. His hips started to move. He penetrated and withdrew, the tip of his cock barely reaching her opening before driving back into her. She arched toward him, and her cotton bra rubbed against his chest, creating a rough friction. He reached down with one arm, bending her leg up so that he could push deeper. A moan escaped her throat, and he knew he'd hit a spot she liked.

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