Page 55 of Quinlan

I’ll end up biting her. Licking her. Sucking on her pretty pink lips while I have my cock in my hand.

While I hear the sounds of my two best friends fucking their fists.

Jagger has contacts in the city. He could get us something strong to knock her out for hours.

We could do it.

We won’t.

Messing with her head is okay. So is forcing her to live with us, which is basically kidnapping her. Touching ourselves while she sleeps, that’s not as bad, either.

For some reason, I draw the line at drugging her. She bought melatonin, it should be enough.

After I park in a back alley, I walk over to where Liam and Rome wait for me. Hidden in plain sight, just how Liam likes it.

His scar is a part of the reason why Liam’s preferences are the way they are. The other part is the woman who’s responsible for the scar being there in the first place. He’d studied the narcissistic bitch, tried to understand the mind of a psycho.

There’s no understanding a cold cunt like Aria.

There’s only killing her.

Fuck her. Fuck that.

I’m going for a boner tonight, not a limp dick and an aching heart.

I’m minutes from being with my savior. My pawn.

Our woman.

Quinlan.

Her name fixes my problem. I’m hard. All the blood in my body goes south.

“Dame.” Liam waves me over to him and Rome.

I join them, and the first thing I notice is Liam looks exactly like he did when he left home this morning. Suit pressed. A strand of his hair over his forehead. His expression neutral.

Staying out here for hours is just another day in the office for him.

“Hey.” Rome jerks his chin.

His eyes are near black, almost the color of his T-shirt. Hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans.

It occurs to me that I should thank him for kissing her.

I haven’t admitted to myself that I have a soft spot for Quinlan.

The gratefulness and obsession have always been there. Using her has been a part of my plans since the day she was born.

Dirty fantasies came last, when she turned eighteen.

But there are other feelings there.

And Rome helped them up to the surface.

He’s searching my face, his lips pulled tight and his jaw clenched.

“How’s it going, thief?” Jokes are what I do. Emotional crap like thanking him for exposing my emotions, that’s not my thing. “I get it, though. Would’ve done the same. Except she wanted it so much that I had to deny her.”

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