Page 12 of Good Duke Gone Far

This had to stop. What manner of blasted insanity was this?

“Kat, wake up.” Quinn took to wrestling her arms down off his neck and then gently pushing her off of him to a seated position. Said seated position remained upright for a split second before toppling down on him again. This time he leaned her against the window. As far away from making bodily contact as possible.

Quinn pinched his nose between thumb and index finger. He couldn’t–nay, he didn’t want to– place just what this woman was doing to him. He only needed to focus on getting them back to Goodgreen Hall. Leaning his head against the window, he saw the sunlight creeping up over the hill. A bird chirped in the distance.

“What?” Quinn watched as her eyes flew open so fast that her eyelids would likely be recovering from whiplash. “What was that?”

“That sound? The bird chirping miles away?”

“May as well have been right in my ear.” Kat’s groan, despite being in irritation, flew right to his cock. He needed out of this conveyance. “I hate mornings,” was what he thought he heard her muttering as he jumped out of the carriage.

He stretched his legs and went in search of Muffin. His horse was standing still as could be, not eating a thing. Which could have been the sign of a well-trained horse, but in this case was cause for concern.

“Aren’t you hungry, girl?”

The horse shifted on her feet.

“What’s the matter?” Quinn approached and stroked her nose a few times to calm her down. Her breaths were coming a touch faster and shorter than normal.

This was not good.

Quinn marched over to the carriage. “Kat, get up. We’re leaving. Now.” It wasn’t a shout. It was a stern voice leaving no room for discussion.

“I’m not going back to Goodgreen Hall.”

He didn’t argue with her. Muffin was his focus right now.

“You’re right. And neither am I right now. There’s something wrong with Muffin.”

“Muffin?”

“My horse.”

“Your–” a titter broke from Kat’s lips. “Horse’s name–” another chuckle, “–is…Muffin?” The hand over Kat’s mouth did next to nothing to stop the laughter now.

“Now you tell me what you’d say to the owner’s four year old girl who named him?” Quinn was used to the jesting. Muffin was a ridiculous name for a Colonel’s horse. But when he had suggested a new battle worthy name in front of the girl, her eyes had flooded with tears. By the time the Colonel had ridden the horse home, he was used to calling her Muffin. And afterward, everyone smiled upon saying the silly name. Lightening the world around him was a great byproduct of having a horse. It wasn’t the worst name to keep. Muffin was used to it. Why change a good thing?

Kat was bent over, still laughing. She managed to say, “It’s better than Horsey.”

Quinn choked down a chuckle. The last thing he wanted was for Kat to make him laugh. He absolutely did not want to have a good time with her. He just had to remind himself that his good friend’s little sister was off limits. Why did he now have to remind himself of that? Before, all he had to do was think of the words that would sprout from her lips, and that would be enough of a reason to keep his distance. Now when he thought of those lips, something else from an entirely different part of his body sprouted.

“You’ve had a good laugh. Now it’s time to go. There’s something not quite right with her.”

“Oh, poor Muffin.” Kat reached out to pet the horse.

“We’re going to town to see her taken care of. Then we’ll decide our next step.”

“I suppose we’re walking.”

“In her current state, yes.”

And thank God for that. Quinn could only picture riding with Kat between his legs for a short time before the image unwittingly stirred body parts. Again. He imagined if he had to sit with her arse bouncing on his cock. The throbbing had already begun. And then, undoubtedly, at some point she would have to turn around to look up at him, and he wouldn’t be able to move far enough back to avoid staring at her inviting lips.

Well, of course the answer to that problem would be to put her behind him where she would…latch herself on to him pressing her breasts into his back. He could feel the rhythm of them bouncing against him.

Alright, neither of those positions were safe. And thank God neither of them were going to happen. They were walking to town.

“Jack?” The tone in her voice indicated that this wasn’t the first time in the last minute that she had called him by that ridiculous name.

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