Page 33 of The Pursuit of Her Happiness

“Is one of you Quinny?”

Quinn steps forward, “I’m Quinn.”

“Hunter has been asking for you…loudly and incessantly since he woke up.” My spine stiffens once again, my shoulders rising to my ears.

“Oh. Can I go see him then?”

“Yes, I’ll take you down.” The nurse glances at the rest of us, “Once Hunter has given the ok, I’ll escort you down as well.”

The nurse starts walking, Quinn right behind her, and me bringing up the rear. After only a few steps, the nurse spins around. “Sorry, sir, he’s only requested Quinn at this time.”

“She’s not going back there without me—”

“Bent.” Quinn rests her hands on my chest, leans up and presses her lips softly against mine. “Just give me a few minutes with him. He’s just woken up from major surgery, and he’s probably disoriented. I promise, I’ll be fine, and I’ll come back to you as soon as I know he’s alright.”

“I don’t like it.”

Quinn smirks, “I know you don’t. I’ll be right back.” She kisses me once more. I stand stock still in the hallway, watching her walk away.

Betty bumps into me from the side. “Simmer down, Polk. Quinn’s all grown up, she can take care of herself.” I look down at the first lady of the club and I don’t know what she sees in my eyes or my facial expression, but her features soften instantly. “Honey, you ain’t got nothing to worry about. That woman loves you, even Stevie Wonder wouldn’t miss the way she looks at you.”

“We haven’t said—”

“Not saying the words doesn’t negate the feeling. Relax, Polk, she’ll be back in a few and you can take her home and mark your territory all over again.”

I shake my head and take a seat in the waiting area to the side. She’s probably right, but my brain is refusing to believe it. I guess after waiting for Quinn for so long, I’m a little nervous that it’s all going to go up in smoke and I’ll be left with nothing…not even my heart.

I’m being ridiculous. And sappy. And acting like a teenage girl. I pull out my phone and text my office manager at the clinic. She assures me everything is good, and the animals will be happy to see me tomorrow.

I’m not sure how long…ok, 27 minutes and 33 seconds later, Quinn comes strolling down the hallway with a peaceful smile on her face and a pep in her step. Guilt wracks me instantly, how selfish I was not to realize how much Ford’s prognosis was weighing on her. Regardless of any romantic feelings between them, she cares about him, and they were once friends. She looks up and sees me standing and that smile becomes blinding. Quinn practically runs to me, closing the distance between us quickly, then throws herself into my arms, peppering kisses all over my face. This is a good sign, right?

“Quinn?” Madison calls her name with a grin.

“Sorry,” she says between kisses. “He’s alive and awake and ashamed and you should take care of that. Polk and I have somewhere to be.” The others laugh as they walk down the hall, leaving us alone.

“We do, do we?”

Quinn leans back far enough to meet my eyes, mischief and pure joy in the depths of her beautiful eyes. “Boys are at school for a few more hours…wanna go back to my place and get to first base?”

Laughing against her lips, I reply, “Careful, I might try to steal second.”

She grins, dropping to her feet. Holding my hand, she leads me to the elevators, “Can’t steal what’s freely given.”

Quinn 18.

I read. I read quite a bit, one might say I’m a voracious reader. I devour books, particularly romance novels. You know, since you’re reading this book, that authors love to use phrases like “he ate her like a starving man” and “my blood boiled”.

So, when I tell you that my blood is boiling in my veins as Polk eats my pussy like a starving man, know that the cliches exist for a reason.

“Good God!” I scream out, giggling with the freedom of knowing my kids aren’t home to hear us. He chuckles around my clit, the vibrations causing my body to jerk and twitch, my hands scrambling for purchase but his hair is too short. I grip the sheets beneath me, my back arching as I approach an epic climax.

And it’ll be my second. Whatever and whoever came before him was practice, an imitation (no offense, Joe!), and an inadequate substitute. Bently Walker has masterful control over his tongue, teeth, and lips. His fingers should be registered as deadly weapons. And that snarl he does when something particularly pleasing to him occurs…

As my climax crests, I cry out, tears falling from my eyes as the pleasure overwhelms me. I want more. I guess I can be selfish, because I want everything with Bently. I want the good, the bad, the sick, the healthy, the climactic, and the cock. I want his cockinside me. I’ve had sex, but never with him, he’s never made love to me, and right now that seems like the greatest tragedy.

Using my feet and legs, I hook them under his arms and pull him up my body. He moves willingly, laughing as he slides into position between my spread thighs. He rubs his nose along mine, and the smell of my arousal only spurs me on. “What’s the matter, darlin’? Do you need something?”

“Your cock. Your massive, beautifully shaped, girthy cock. I need it. I want it. I must have it. Now.” He tosses his head back and lets loose a joyful laugh that tickles along my skin. I cinch my legs around him tighter, and thrust up, reveling in the way his laughter morphs into a guttural groan as his cock saws through my wet and swollen lips.

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