Everyone who works within the New York Warriors organization knows that star player August Fletcher refuses to talk to most people...and especially team reporters. All except Quinn Castle, that is.
Quinn doesn't know why the broody football player...
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I WATCHED QUINN disappear from my bedroom before letting loose a sigh and sinking further down in my bed.
I hated talking about myself, and I was dreading answering these questions, but the fact of the matter was that Quinn was here on a job. She had people to answer to and a task to complete. And that was the worst part of all of it; if Quinn finished her assignment...she'd leave. Like hell was I ready for that to happen.
Still, I knew I had to give her more than I had.
Quinn returned a few minutes later and helped prop my knee up and balance an ice pack on it. It didn't hurt as bad as when I'd crawled up on shore, but the throbbing hadn't faded completely.
It hadn't throbbed as badly as my cock had earlier, though. Fuck, waking up to Quinn Castle in my bed was the best goddamn thing. Especially considering I was allowed to touch her, make her come, finger-fuck her until she was screaming into the pillow.
I swallowed a groan at the recent memories. I could practically still feel the way she clenched around my fingers, and hell...that was something. As soon as my knee healed up, I'd be using more than my fingers to make her scream. I had so many plans for her and this bed.
"There," Quinn said with satisfaction as she looked me over, propped up by pillows and covered in ice. I couldn't help but notice the way her eyes lingered on my bare chest before trailing over the rest of me. I smirked, and when our gazes finally met, she blushed a pretty pink at being caught.
"Shut up," she muttered as she walked around to the other side of the bed and slid onto it.
"I didn't say anything."
"Yes, you did. With your eyes."
"Well, you were saying some things with your eyes, too," I countered.
"It's not my fault that you're...you."
"Mm," I hummed. "So articulate. No wonder you're a writer."
Quinn launched a pillow at me, which I quickly knocked to the side with a laugh. Meanwhile, she shook her head, evading my gaze as she settled onto the bed and opened her laptop. But as irritated as she pretended to be, she couldn't keep a barely suppressed grin from sneaking onto her face.
God, she was cute. Her hair was slightly tangled, and her eyes still had a sleepy droop to them. But there was also a glow about her that was undeniable. She radiated an energy that I felt in my bones, and I knew when she left, it was going to leave a fucking hole inside me.
The thought sobered me, but I refused to let it ruin the time we had right now.
I sighed. "So, what else can I tell you?"
Quinn had peppered me with questions over the last week, but they'd all been pretty surface-level. It was almost as if she was tip-toeing around everything she really needed to know. All things that would really sell this article. It made me wonder if she wanted to drag out this visit as much as me. My chest warmed at the thought, even if it didn't solve the overall problem lingering between us.
