Page 170 of Quinlan

Damien

Flick. Snap. Flick. Snap.

Liam’s engrossed by whatever he has on the screen of his computer.

I’m watching him from the doorway to his office. I’d flat-out ask what’s there, except he’s in a trance. I’m curious, but I know better than to startle him.

That Aria bitch slapped him around as a punishment for spacing out. For not going fast enough into the closet. He didn’t tell that part to Quinlan two nights ago. Didn’t go into the horrible pieces he told us while he was high on drugs in the hospital.

What good would it do? So much pain had bled into that bedroom. Enough to last a lifetime. I wouldn’t have said a word either.

You barely said a word, period, asshole.

Fuck you, voice.

Eventually, I knock on the door twice. Soft.

Liam lifts his head from the screen. Sitting up, in his dark pressed suit with the evening setting behind him, Liam stares straight ahead. Looking without actually seeing me.

Slowly, his vision clears. There he is. “Hey, Damien.”

“You’re in the middle of a research project.” I don’t move from my place at the door.

Our last big acquisition, the DriverGone deal, was finalized yesterday. We haven’t discussed any future ones since. This has to be a good one, if he’s onto something while our hands are full with Quinlan and the impending execution of Rome’s revenge.

A genuine smile threatens to break through at the mention of her name. It’s been two nights in a row that the four of us slept in the same bed.

We’ve been waking up with her. Had breakfast together. She wore my shirt to bed last night. Mine.

“Damien, you’re not listening.”

It’s my turn to blink until my friend comes into focus. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, he did.” Rome sidesteps me, walking into Liam’s office.

He’s wearing a midnight blue suit, a shade darker than the one I’m wearing. Like mine, it’s been tailored to his body, moving with his as he takes one of the seats facing Liam.

I came to check on Liam, but apparently there’s a meeting I wasn’t told about.

“Thought there were no secrets between us.” I close the door, taking the seat next to Rome. I’m not upset. I am curious.

“There aren’t.” Liam grabs his Zippo, twisting it in his hand.

“Oh.” My eyebrows rise. “This is about playing with Quinlanandthe Zippo? I approve. I bit her hard last night. Drew blood. She can take it.”

Quinlan took a lot more than that last night. I left bite marks on her breasts, shoulders, her legs. This morning, I caught hersmiling at the pattern of my teeth on her. Right there, an inch from the crease separating her thigh and her pussy.

Rome wasn’t easy on her either. He didn’t talk about what happened in the gym. She didn’t ask him anything. Instead, he choked her. Grabbed her wrists as if she’d run from him. Spanked her ass red.

Liam, though, he hid his kinks. We’d never fucked anyone together. We haven’t fucked anyone but her, period, in years. Were never too much into random hookups to begin with.

But I could tell what Liam wanted. It started at her apartment. Last night, he eyed the Zippo a second too long before he climbed into bed.

“Hilarious.” Liam’s grip on the Zippo is tighter than usual, now that I’ve planted that idea in his head. Called it. “Wasn’t asking for your permission.”

“Then?”

“What wereyouthinking about?”

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