Page 42 of Quinlan

“A café,” he muses.

“Yes, it’s on my running route.” What the actual fuck. I’m not telling this yet-another-stranger personal shit about my life. Oh, wait. I do. “He told me to wave whenever I jog past it. So he knew I’m okay.”

“Their coffee any good?”

What? “I, uh… yes?”

“Let’s go, then.”

Let’s go?

“I could use a shot of caffeine.” Rome takes a step closer. Angling my head up to stare deeper into his blues, I clench my fists to keep my hands from roaming over his forearms. They’re delicious. “It’s been a long day.”

Run, run, run.

“I’ll show you where it is.” A compromise. I won’t run. Won’t give him a glimpse into how badly he terrifies and allures me. “Then I’m off. I have to finish my route and work.”

“No.”

“No?” My jaw goes slack. My mouth hangs open.

“No, Quinlan.” Rome’s finger hooks beneath my chin. Snapping my mouth shut. “You’re having coffee with me. You’re staying.”

He did not just say that.

“I—”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” I shiver at the dark cloud that descends over him.

“No, Quinlan.” He straightens himself, so tall that he blocks out the sky. That he cages me in. “I said no. As in, I’m not asking you to come. I’m ordering you.”

CHAPTER NINE

Quinlan

“I shouldn’t be grabbingcoffee with strangers.” My last attempt to save face sounds weak. Itisweak.

I want to have coffee with Rome.

Fuck.

“Your first name is Quinlan.” His bass voice slams into my chest. A fist curling around my heart, squeezing it. “You blush when I get too close. My busted knuckles make you uncomfortable. Being around me scares you. Yet here you are, blushing. Wanting me to hurt you in ways no one has before. Ways I can assure you’ll get off on. That’ll make your pussy wet and nipples hard. You won’t admit to it, but you will, and I’ll be there for all of it. For when your cunt clenches around me. For when you soak my hand and cock.”

He catches my gasp by placing a thumb to my lips. Smirks at my obvious surprise and the lust. So much of it.

I’ve been obvious. Given too much.

And there’s no taking it back.

I’m going to die. That’s it. I’m just going to take my last breath and die right here, at his feet.

“I’m Rome.” His finger on my mouth presses harder. Shushing me. In a way, to have him ignore my body reaction is worse. More humiliating. Hotter, too. “I’ve been told I’m a good cook. I was born and raised in Chicago. Never left. And I’d really like to have coffee right now. With you.”

I blink, my refusal drowning beneath his attention. Beneath his dominance.

“Here. I solved your problem.” He releases my lips, sucking on his thumb. I glare at him doing that, but he simply crosses his arms over his chest like nothing’s happened. “We’re not strangers anymore.”

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