His (15 page)

Read His Online

Authors: Brenda Rothert

Tags: #HIS

“I’ll buy it for you,” I offer.

She gives me a sideways smile and then shakes her head. “No, but thanks.”

“You sure? I can tell you love it.”

She sighs softly. “I just feel like I know her.”

Meg is hanging at just the right distance to casually eavesdrop.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” she says with a practiced smile.

I nod and lay a hand on Quinn’s slight shoulder. “Do you just like this one, or all of them?”

She looks up at me with a serious expression. “I don’t want you to buy it, okay? It should be here for everyone to see.”

“This entire exhibit
will
sell,” Meg says a little sharply. “It’s only a matter of who will be the winning buyer.”

Quinn narrows her eyes slightly.

“Well, it won’t be us,” I say, sliding my hand back into hers.

She squeezes my hand, and I lead the way out of the gallery.

“I hate her,” Quinn mutters as we step onto the sidewalk. “I think she and Dahlia should hang out.”

I laugh and take out my cell phone to text Roy. “There’s an idea.”

“They could form a Bitches Anonymous group.”

I type out the address of a nearby corner for Roy to pick us up at and then turn to Quinn.

“You dislike . . . what was her name again?”

“Meg.”

“Right,
Meg
. . . that much just from that one encounter?”

“Not everything should be for sale. It’s disgusting, really. That woman struggles just to exist, and some rich person will pay more money for that picture than she can ever imagine having, and they’ll hang it up in their house as a decoration.”

I think about her words for a few seconds, realizing she’s right, but I never would have seen it that way without her pointing it out.

“Is that what you think of me?” I ask, feeling a sick churning in my gut. “Do you think I’m profiting from your misery?”

She turns to me with wide eyes. “Not at all. No, it’s not remotely the same. You’re respecting me and taking care of me and . . .
paying
me. That woman will get nothing for that photo.”

“Maybe it’ll help create awareness of the need for assistance in Guatemala.”

Quinn arches her brows skeptically. “I doubt that. Most people ignore the needy.”

“Did you feel ignored when you were homeless?”

“I didn’t just
feel
ignored, I
was
ignored.” A couple beats of silence pass and she says, “What do you do when you pass a homeless person on the street?”

I meet her eyes for just a second and then look away, feeling sheepish. She’s right. Truth be told, I ignore just about everyone when I’m walking down the street, but it’s not right to brush past every person I see who could use a hand. I can’t help all of them, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help some of them.

Roy pulls up, and we slide into the car and out of the cold.

“Head to the nearest movie theater,” I tell Roy.

He takes us to one with neon signs and windows that stretch up to the second story to show the escalators taking people upstairs. When we get inside, I tell Quinn to choose a movie, and she picks a big-budget action film. We pick up some popcorn and soda and step onto the escalator.

“I always wondered what it was like in here,” she says, looking around at the ornate ceiling and moldings in the renovated old building.

“Beautiful reno work,” I say.

She smiles at me. “I like that you love old buildings. Other people would tear them down, but you see their beauty.”

“They don’t build ’em like they used to. I just bought a spectacular building in Manhattan that was a dance hall during the Prohibition era.”

“What will you do with it?”

I shrug. “Haven’t decided. I just couldn’t stand to see it made into a fast-food joint.”

I like the look on Quinn’s face right now. If I’m not mistaken, it’s admiration. My money seems to mean very little to her. She’s all about what I do with it.

The theater’s not that crowded, so our seats in the top row are secluded. The movie’s not bad, but what I enjoy the most is Quinn. Her small gasps during the exciting parts are cute as hell.

Roy’s waiting when the movie lets out, and he meets my gaze in the rearview mirror after we get into the car.

“Home?” I ask Quinn.

She nods.

“Home,” I say to Roy.

Quinn takes my hand and squeezes it.

“This was fun,” she says.

“I thought so, too.”

I slide my hand out from under hers and onto her thigh. The corners of her lips tilt up in a smile, but she doesn’t look at me. I move my hand higher, my fingertips grazing her inner thigh.

Too bad she has jeans on. I’m dying to know what her skin feels like. Having her right next to me for all these hours has me wanting more. More than this, and more than I’ve had with her before.

Roy pulls into the warehouse garage, and I lead Quinn to the elevator, pressing my thumb to the pad by the door. The door slides open, and as soon as we step on, I can tell by the look in her eyes that she wants more, too.

I want to back her against the wall of the elevator and kiss her, but I don’t. Instead, I just let my gaze wander up and down her body, enjoying every inch of her. She slides out of her coat, her eyes on mine.

She’s watching me watch her, and it’s so damn sexy. I’m rock hard. It’s taking all my self-control not to rip off her clothes and fuck her hard and fast.

“Make me a drink?” she asks as we step off the elevator.

She looks over her shoulder at me, and I tear my gaze away from her ass. “Of course. What would you like?”

“Whatever you think I might like,” she says with a shrug. “I’ve never had alcohol before.”

A pang of realization hits. Quinn isn’t an average twenty-one-year-old woman. Her life experience is far greater than most, but she missed out on the coming-of-age stuff.

Part of me feels a stab of guilt for initiating her. But I’ll take good care of her. Better me than some horny teenage boy who wants to get her drunk and take advantage of her.

I take out a small glass tumbler and mix up a screwdriver for her. I pass it to her, and she takes a sip as I take out a bottle of bourbon and a glass for myself.

“Mmm, it’s good,” she says.

When I look over, she’s got the glass tipped back. As she lowers it, I see it’s halfway gone already.

“Whoa,” I say with a smile. “Slow down, champ.”

“It tastes like juice.”

“But it’s not just juice.”

Her cheeks pink a little. I take off my coat, toss it over a chair at the breakfast bar, and take a sip of my bourbon.

Quinn is standing in front of me, looking expectant and hesitant at the same time. I set my tumbler down and cover the few steps separating us.

When I put my hands on her hips, her lips part slightly. I lean down and give her a soft kiss, sliding my hands around to her ass and cupping it like I’ve been wanting to all damn night.

She moans and slides her palms up my chest to my neck, over my cheeks, and into my hair.

My body is throbbing all over with the deepest desire I’ve ever felt. She’s been hurt and left to fend for herself in a cruel world. And not only did she do that, she took care of her sister. She’s been strong for so long, and now I want to be the strong one for her. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to be here with her right now, but I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.

I pull away and look down at her. “Can we go into my bedroom?”

She licks her lips and nods. I take her hand and lead her, practically breaking into a run. I can hear her laughing behind me as she jogs to keep up. When I turn around, wrap my hands around her waist, and toss her over my shoulder, she laughs even louder.

“Andrew! What are you doing?”

I run the last twenty feet down the hallway to my bedroom and lightly toss her onto my king-size bed. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are sparkling. I kick off my shoes, and she does the same.

I’m about to climb onto the bed when I notice her ear-to-ear smile shrinking. A crease forms between her brows.

“Is that . . . ?”

She’s staring at my crotch, where my erection is prominently outlined against my khakis.

“Yeah,” I say with a grin. “You really bring him to life.”

“Jesus. You’re going to kill me with that thing.”

She looks genuinely horrified.

“I promise I won’t. No sex tonight, anyway.”

“No sex?” The crease gets deeper. “But I thought . . . ?”

I lie down on the bed and grab her hips, pulling her light body onto mine. The feel of her against my cock makes me groan.

“Stop thinking,” I say, pulling down on her hips as she straddles me. Her lips part again, and her eyelids close.

“That feels good,” she murmurs.

“Just feel. Tonight, just feel.”

She lets her head fall back and grinds her hips against me. It’s hot as fuck seeing her on top of me like this. I slide my hand under her shirt, my fingertips grazing across her lean, smooth stomach. She sighs softly.

Much as I want to let her do all the driving, I can’t help my controlling nature. I sit up and push her shirt all the way up and then off over her head. When I resume my grip on her hips, she moans loudly and grinds against me again.

I kiss her breasts through the satin fabric of her bra, my tongue tracing the seams of the fabric and circling her nipples.

The sounds of heavy breathing and moaning fill the room. I unclasp Quinn’s bra, slide it off, and toss it to the floor, taking one of her tight, pink nipples between my lips and sucking on it.

“Oh, God,” she says with a moan. “Andrew . . .”

She grabs my cheeks and kisses me with a fervor I’ve never seen in her. Her tongue seeks mine, and her hips continue the sweet, torturous grinding that keeps my cock and balls aching for more.

I slide a hand down the back of her jeans and grip her ass. She moans into my mouth and then presses her palms to my shoulders and pushes me down to the bed.

Me. Pushed down to the bed by a woman. It’s never happened. I’m the one who issues the orders in bed, not the one who takes them. But what Quinn wants from me, she’ll get.

She bites her lower lip for just a second. I’m reaching for her small but absolutely perfect breasts when she shakes her head, smiles, and slides off of me.

My groan of frustration morphs into something else as she unfastens my pants. She pulls them off, boxer briefs and all, and I frantically unbutton the dress shirt I’m wearing and work my way out of it.

She wraps her hand around the base of my erection, and
holy hell
, does it feel amazing. I let out a choked sound of surprised satisfaction as she slowly strokes me.

“Feels good?” she asks softly.

“Fuck . . .
yes
,” I manage.

She leans down, and as her pink lips get closer to my cock, I close my eyes. Hell. Just the sight of her could make me come. Her tongue is soft as she runs it tentatively around the head of my cock.

I’m breathing hard, gripping the bedsheets and struggling to keep control. I’ve never felt so undone by a woman. She wants me—wants
this
, and that’s just as hot as the feel of her sweet mouth on me.

She takes as much of me as she can, licking and sucking and stroking. I can tell from how slow she goes that she’s inexperienced, and fuck if that doesn’t turn me on, too. Just knowing she wants to please me is all it takes.

“Ah,
fuck
. . .” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m gonna come.”

She doesn’t stop, and within a few seconds, I come in her mouth, her eyes widening as she tastes it. Her lips glisten as she pulls away and gives me a questioning look.

“Baby,” I say, running a hand over her hip and around to her back. “That was incredible and . . . completely unexpected.”

She smiles. I sit up and kiss her softly.

“Now lie down on your back,” I say.

She opens her mouth to protest, but I quiet her with a finger over her lips. “Just do it.”

No way can I let her go sleep without feeling what I just did. I don’t like that she made me come first, and I plan to make up for it.

I unfasten her jeans and slide them off. Her lacy black panties are so sexy against her creamy white skin. I take my time licking the lace hems of them and kissing her thighs.

I note all the spots I kiss that make her moan softly. Inner ankles and inner thighs are her favorites. When I hook my fingers through the sides of her panties and slide them down, she closes her legs.

“Relax,” I say softly.

“I haven’t gotten waxed.” Her voice is a low, embarrassed whisper.

I look at the dark blond curls between her legs and smile. “You look perfect.”

“Really?”

“Very sexy. Now open your legs for me.”

She does, and I stay on my knees, my eyes locked with hers.

“How does it feel, opening your legs when I tell you to?” I ask.

Her nipples are pebbled, and her chest rises and falls with her heavy breathing. “It feels . . . good.”

“I’ll never make you feel anything but good,” I promise.

She gives me a lazy smile.

“I want you to flatten your hands and circle your palms gently over your nipples,” I say, my cock rock hard once again.

Uncertainty only flashes across her face for an instant before she complies, her lips parting as she begins touching herself.

I can’t help wrapping a hand around my renewed erection and pumping it a few times as I watch her. Damn, is she hot. I’ve never imagined being driven this crazy by a woman.

“Now pinch your nipples,” I say. “Squeeze them between your thumb and forefinger.”

She does, and I pump my cock a few more times as she moans loudly.

“Pinch harder,” I tell her.

When she does, her hips arch off the bed.

“Keep doing it,” I say, bending down.

I’ve teased her enough. I slide my tongue into her glistening pussy, and she gasps loudly. I suck on her clit and slide a finger into her.

Oh,
hell
. She’s tight. I pump my dick a few times with my free hand, imagining what it will feel like to be inside her.

Her hips are rotating, and she’s breathing so hard. I push another finger in and suck harder. She cries out my name, and I feel her coming against my tongue. The sound of her saying my name does me in, and I come again, too.

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