Island Pleasures(12)

He sat down on a couch in the lobby and dropped his head into his hands. Right after she brought him to the most intense orgasm of his life in her arms, Jagger called his cell. Security had seen Carly entering his office. Ron, the guard who had caught them together, had reported the incident. Jagger hadn’t yelled or screamed or told him he was fired. He sounded more disappointed than anything, but not because of who Quinn had been fooling around with, but because they’d done it in his office and on his desk of all places.

Mortified, Quinn had apologized profusely, and Quinn ended the call, turning back to the woman who had turned his entire world upside down. He found only Ron—the tattletale security guard. She’d given him the slip yet again and some beast inside him howled in rage.

What would he do with Carly if and when he found her again? He wanted to shake some sense into her and then kiss her until she was naked and crying out his name, begging him for mercy. He savored the idea of punishing her all night long by bringing her close to the edge and keeping her from reaching her climax.

A bitter laugh left him. The handful of women he’d been with since her, always with Woody as backup, had been treated with respect and care. Anytime he tried to go solo with a woman, he froze. Carly had ruined him. He couldn’t have an intimate encounter without his best friend by his side.

Damn Carly and his obsession with her! He took out his cell with the intent to call Woody for advice when he noticed the text message. Took Carly to my place. Plan on plying her with my sangria and doing wicked things to her. Join us.

He shot up out of his seat. Carly wasn’t going to do anything with anyone unless he was there. His prick of a best friend better not touch what was his without his permission!

He strode out of the foyer, calling Woody’s cell. When he went straight to voice mail, he released a line of curses and hurried to his car.



***



Quinn marched into Woody’s backyard oasis of trees and plant life indigenous to the island. He preferred the comfort here to his sterile, professionally decorated condo.

He knew his friend’s game all too well, having played it with him many times before. But this time, Quinn wasn’t certain he wanted things to go that far. Not where Carly was concerned—unless…she was interested.

He stopped near the edge of the deck, surveying the two with affection and some trepidation. Woody sat on a lounger drinking a beer while Carly, some distance away, held a wine glass and swayed to a pop-sounding dance song. Her beauty stunned him. Her hair fell down around her shoulders, and she wore a strapless white sundress, showing off her shapely legs. A vision of him pounding into her while she wrapped her thighs around him made him go rock hard. A bird cackled overhead and the others turned in his direction.

“You made it!” Woody jumped up and clapped.

Carly drained her glass.

He sauntered over and his buddy came down the steps and met him.

“I know you two have a lot of unresolved things to work out, but can it wait until tomorrow?” Woody whispered.

Quinn nodded. “Tonight will be just three friends catching up.”

“Let’s have some fun!” Woody strode up on the deck and snatched Carly’s empty glass. “I’ll refresh your drink and start dinner while you two talk.” He retreated toward the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

Carly turned down the music. She faced Quinn with a reserved smile. “Um, hi.”

“Hi,” he said and reached to tug on his tie. When he realized he wasn’t wearing one, he played with the bottom of his T-shirt.

“You still do that.” She grinned at him, a suspiciously cheerful twinkle in her eyes.

“Still do what?” He frowned, puzzled.

“Tug on your shirt. You did it in college.”

“I do it when I’m nervous. I’ve been doing it much more since you arrived.” Not liking the distance between them, he moved to her side.

She twirled a piece of her hair. He longed to play with those golden strands.

“A new habit of yours?”

She dropped her hand. “One I picked up since I saw you again.”

“Carly, we need—”

“I know. But I’ve had a little too much to drink and need something in my stomach besides wine and whatever else is in this potent concoction.”

He chuckled. “I’ve enjoyed Woody’s sangria one too many times. The stories I could tell you would make you piss your pants laughing.”

She giggled, and he smiled, closing his eyes to soak in the sound. They shot open when she brushed his chin. Her hand fell away and he grabbed it.

“I’m sorry for the stupid thing I did by breaking into Castillo’s office. I know it’s not a good enough apology—”