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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
QUINN AND I did make it through an entire game of pool before we left Sunny's.
What we didn't do was make it through that game without a handful of...intermissions.
It was just constant, the way I ached for her. And while I wanted to be hopeful that this feeling would change once I let myself have her the way I really wanted, the way we really wanted, I knew it was unlikely.
It was never going to be enough.
Which was a fucking problem.
Once we were back at the beach house, I led Quinn by the hand toward my room, ready to crawl under the covers with her, prop my knee up, and maybe drag her on top of me again. But I had one foot through the bedroom door when she tugged back on my hand, forcing me to spin around.
Wordlessly, Quinn pushed up on her tip-toes and brushed her lips over mine. It was a soft kiss. At first, anyway. And then she pressed me against the door frame and deepened the kiss, exploring my mouth with her tongue, letting it tangle with mine and setting my insides on fire for the millionth time tonight.
I cupped the back of her head with my free hand, fighting the urge to take control of the kiss. But almost as though Quinn could read my intent to pull her into the bedroom and pin her to the mattress so I could kiss her until we were lost in each other, she slipped her lips off of mine and took a step back.
She laughed when she looked up at me, the sweetest sound that made my stomach flip, even if it did confuse me.
"What?"
"Your face."
I lifted a brow.
"What about it?"
"Just the way you're glaring at me. It's kind of cute."
"It's not supposed to be cute, Castle," I grumbled as I settled my hands on her waist and pulled her closer to me again. "It's supposed to show you how disappointed I am that you stopped kissing me."
"I know." A soft giggle escaped Quinn's lips. "That's why it's cute. Everyone thinks you're moody and grumpy, but you just want kisses."
"That's not...entirely true." Regardless, I leaned down and dragged my lips over hers once. Twice. And then a third time before I murmured against her mouth. "I don't just want kisses from anyone. I want your kisses. I want you. And I guess since you're unaffected by my glare, I'll have to find another way to get what I want."
Quinn's lips curved; I could feel her smile against my frown. "You act like I haven't been giving you what you want all night long. Or did you already forget how you marked me with your cum?"
"I could never fucking forget that," I groaned, feeling suddenly dizzy at the rush of desire and arousal her words evoked. I could picture her so clearly, spread out on the pool table for me.
