Page 50 of Quinlan

We haven’t had a secret between us until the photos of this beautiful eighteen-year-old started piling up on our desk. I’ve allowed this to go on for five years.

This is where I draw the line.

Silence.

Me:I won’t do it by myself.

Damien:What do you meantoo? Rome? The fuck he’s talking about?

Rome:I had a feeling you were watching, Liam. Why didn’t you come say hello? Rex would’ve lost his shit. I wouldn’t have minded, if it benefited our plan.

Again with this plan bullshit. Fine, let Rome be delusional too. It won’t last.

Damien: Too. Fucking kissed hertoo.

Damien:I swear to fuck, if I wasn’t on this online video conference…

He would’ve called. Would’ve let out his carefully suppressed anger out for what Rome did. He’d say how much he wants to kiss her first. Then make a joke about it.

Ripping the mask off for too long means vulnerability, and Damien hates that.

I’m aware.

I’m also here. Outside her building. Watching her window.

Rome:She tasted so sweet. Moaned so pretty for me.

My brow furrows. This isn’t Rome, this taunting. This delicate pushing of Damien’s buttons. He’s the bulldozer of the three of us.

Then again, he has to be pleased with himself. He kissed her hard. Fuck, I felt a jolt of arousal, and I stood across the street from them.

The light in her bathroom flicks open. Next, she’ll shower, wash her long, thick hair. Rub soap into her soft curves.

My cock strains in my pants. The pressure has been there for the last thirty minutes. It’s become uncomfortable. Painful.

But not unwelcome.

In a few hours, I’ll have my release.

Me:I’ll text you. Bye.

Until then, I’ll do what I do best.

Watch.

And wait.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Damien

“The cleaning crew isa liability,” I tell Gwen, the manager at McMahon Condiments. The small condiments company that we bought from her family. “Get rid of them.”

Normally, a company this size wouldn’t be a blip on BLF Capital’s radar. We would never be bothered with acquiring a business with such miniscule profit margin forecasts.

Except a certain Miss Aria Kimble—Liam’s ex-babysitter from hell—works there.

Or should I say,worked.

---