Page 70 of Quinlan

I’ve never been this attracted to anyone in my life. Ever. This wet. That desperate for an orgasm.

They see through my bullshit, too.

“You might not want us. Not at this very moment.” Damien leans in, his breath hot on my temple.

From this up close, his unhinged side shows. His eyes aren’t friendly. Cruelty lies behind them. How bottomless are they?

“But we are what you need.” He licks my tattoo and says the words that prove to me how spot on I am.

“Fuck you, psycho.”

He laughs, and I bite down the inside of my cheek to suppress a shudder. To silence the moan I’m barely holding inside.

“Oh, we will.” His lips kiss my temple, and there’s no hiding the shudders anymore. No swallowing the moan. “Some other night, we’ll fuck you. Tonight, we’ll settle for hearing you beg for it.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Liam

Alarm bells have beengoing off in my head since we got up from our table.

We’re deviating from tonight’s plan. Taking a hard turn to the right. Or left.

Whatever. It’s a risky one. A worthy one.

When we left the apartment this evening, we had everything worked out.

We’d come here. Let her see us. Let the realization that we’d been conspiring against her—most likely as a group—sink in.

It was supposed to be a chance to scare her. Fear looks so hot on Quinlan.

Then there was the matter of crashing her not-double-date.

One look at the three of us together, and she should’ve rushed outside. If we got lucky, she would’ve called her half-brother on the way home, her voice quivering. He would’ve worried for real this time.

As we’re cornering her in the cocktail bar’s restrooms, I think it’s safe to say our plan has failed. The second part, anyway.

She feared us, all right. Those minutes of recognition were priceless.

Her shouting at Rex over the phone? That was a million times better than having her crying for him.

It turned me right the fuck on. Her anger. The fire in her. Got me wondering how she’d react to us when the truth finally came out. She’ll be a wildfire. Destroy herself with her fury.

But.

She didn’t leave. She was about to go sit withthem.

Unacceptable.

“Fuck you, psycho.”

Such a pretty mess. That’s what we’ve turned her into. A panting, growling mess.

My pulse thrums in my ears. My scar is as hot as the day fire scalded my cheek.

For the first time in my life, I’m not choked by the stinging. By the memories. She does it. She makes me want to burn. With her. Jesus.

“Some other night, we’ll fuck you. Tonight, we’ll settle for hearing you beg for it,” Damien counters.

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