Page 15 of Quinlan

I turn to face him. Is it possible to get used to a predator? To be disarmed this easily? If it is, this man is a pro at it.

I want him to come home with me.

Stupid. And impossible. There’s no time for this. Not even for a goodnight kiss. A relationship, a date, a one-night stand, they’re off the table.

There’s a lot riding on the projects I have yet to finish. On the major contract with BLF Capital.

My parents’ medical bills and insurance. My financial security. A little extra for Rex if he ever got laid off.

It’s irresponsible to risk any of it for him. For this beautiful, mysterious, incredibly hot man.

Unless he insists.

He doesn’t.Well, then,hanging in the air between us. He doesn’t say another word.

“You’re going, right?” My heart shouldn’t pinch at this. It does, anyway.

“I am.” His fingers curl around the side of my neck. He backs me up into a dark corner, pushing me to the space where my building’s front door and the building itself meet.

An onlooker could think the stranger and I are lovers. A man in a suit towering over a woman with her lips parted. He’s grabbing her neck as if he has the right to. His face is angled so low that they almost kiss.

To me, it feels like I’m drowning. Suffocating. Being forced to stare into two precious sapphires that have lost all their spark. Only cruelty remains in them. Only threats to do the worst things to me.

I don’t hate it. I’m fucked in the head to want this. To agree to this. I really am.

“Doesn’t look like you’re going,” I mumble, pressing both hands to his firm chest. I need to pull him close. I need him to go away. “Having second thoughts? Already?”

“Second thoughts?”

“Uh…” Me and my stupid mouth. Ugh. I should’ve just told him toleave. Instead, here I am. Flirting. Awkwardly so. “About me being your bodyguard.”

“That.” His lips pinch into a fine line while his eyes roam over every available inch on my face. The man’s gaze skates lower to my collarbone, my heaving breasts. Then he drags them up to meet my gaze. “I appreciate the offer, darling, but I’m good. If I want anyone dead, I’m capable of getting the job done myself.”

“Ha!” I bark out a nervous laugh. He’s kidding, right? It’s a part of our banter. “Good one. You’re funny.”

“We’ll find that out soon enough,” he whispers, his voice harsh. Barely audible.

I gulp. His grip around my neck tightens, as if he’s trying to memorize that part of me.

He’s kidding, I have to remind myself of that. He’s a funny man with a dark side.

He won’t kill anyone, least of all me.

But he’ll touch me. He is touching me. Hard muscles pressed to my soft curves. He’s even harder between his legs, and I can’t breathe with how much I want him.

His forehead is a hair’s breadth from mine.

This is it. Work is meaningless. Life is an inconsequential series of events.

There’s only him and his hands pressing my jaw. Angling my head to the side. And—

“Do you like cronuts?” It’s either this question or I let him kiss me.

I have no time for kissing a man.

“Do I what?” Amused again. His thumb is on my bottom lip, tugging it down.

“Cronuts, you know? The love child of croissant and a donut,” I’m blabbering. The man and his slow smirk do that to me. I also have to get these words out, or I’ll give in to him. I’m so close. “A fluffy donut. Delicious.”

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