Page 27 of The Lynx and the Llama
“I’ve got you, kitten.”
He hovered over her wet heat for a tortured second before plunging himself inside her, and that was all she needed. Her inner lips clamped around his cock, and with each thrust he gave her, she began pulsating to a pleasurable rhythm that mimicked his own. Liquid heat pooled between their sexes, exciting Erika even more. She cupped his ass and dug her nails into his skin.
“That’s it, kitten. Come for me.”
Her body responded to his demand as the two of them flew over the edge. When they caught their breath, Quinn rolled onto his side. The heat was gone, and then her senses came back with the cool as she took in his nakedness. Now Erika went into full-on panic mode.
What am I doing? This is wrong. So wrong! We have SHIT to do tomorrow, and then he’s leaving! Not to mention the possible elephant in the room—him possibly being related to King Lear! Why am I making this harder on myself? It’s best to cut ties now so I don’t get hurt. I’ve gotten too close too soon to this man. It will be hard enough to forget him. It’s best if I leave now before we get even closer!
She placed her palms over his hands.
“Quinn, I…” Her voice trailed as she tried to cover herself up with the sheet. He quickly smoothed the fabric of the bed sheet out to help her cover herself.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. Is having the lights on bothering you? I know it’s our first time together, but I couldn’t resist looking at your beautiful body. I can turn them off now.”
How her heart squeezed! But she couldn’t… No, she wouldn’t allow herself to turn into a pile of goo again. She needed out of here and now!
“No, you’re fine.” She got up from the bed and reached for her bra, shirt, skirt, and panties from the floor. “This is all on me. I can’t… I mean we shouldn’t…”
She was fumbling with her buttons as she was stammering her words, making sure she didn’t make eye contact with him.
With a sigh, she told him, “I’ll be right back.”
She dashed into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. She splashed some cold water onto her face to cool her raging hormones. Her face was beet red, so she doubted the water would do her any good. Mainly because she’d soon have to face Quinn and his sexy fuck-me glasses again.
God, she didn’t want to face him. And she knew he was standing right by the door. But this was for the best. She’d breeze by him to exit the room and drive home—that was the plan, anyway. She sucked in a breath as she reached for the doorknob and opened it quickly. And sure enough, he was right there and now fully clothed himself.
“Erika, I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. Please stay. We can either order room service or head downstairs and order dessert from the hotel restaurant.”
“I think it’s best if I head home. It’s getting late, and there’s all the SHIT to consider,” she said as she reached for his hand and patted it before continuing. “I’ll see you tomorrow—okay?”
He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and then shoved it into his pocket.
“Okay, I guess. It’s just… I don’t want to leave things like this between us. I’m really sorry.”
“Quinn, I told you, you did nothing wrong. This is all me.”
She took one long stride and another and another to the door. She placed her hand on the door and looked back at Quinn. His eyes were glistening. Was he crying? Damn it! He was, and that squeezed at her heart. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him because that hurt her worse than she cared to admit to herself right now.
Wasn’t I leaving to stop myself from getting a broken heart? Fuck!
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Please don’t blame yourself. Please.”
She was out the door before he could respond, and she raced to the stairs and took two at a time to make sure she wasn’t visible from the stairwell, just in case he planned on following her. She wasn’t sure she could say no to him if he followed her. But this was best because Erika didn’t do one-night stands. Well, until now anyway.
11
Quinn sent her some apologetic text messages, but Erika ignored them.
Better to focus on the work that needed to be done.
She spent the night looking over everything—nothing that needed tending to. She’d already done everything to her highest standards. The night before SHIT was reserved for emergencies—thankfully none had come up—or fun, which she’d kiboshed by running out of Quinn’s hotel room.
She finally worked up the nerve to reply to him, letting him know that she made it home safely. Then she confessed that the reason she’d run was because she’d gotten scared. He replied that he understood.
And then nothing.
Now she faced a whole new problem. She didn’t think she’d miss someone she’d gone on only a few dates with. Yes, they’d had sex in Quinn’s hotel room. But she stopped herself on purpose from spending the night with him, determined to ensure her heart wouldn’t shatter into a million pieces once he left. One-night stands weren’t her thing for this very reason. And if that was the plan to keep her heart intact, why did she feel like someone just sucker-punched her?
