It was the same building where ‘the boss’ had purchased five floors for Cypher Systems staff. At first, when we arrived, I thought we were headed to the apartment he’d shown me before; my imagination filled with images of us Tubinn together in the giant bathtub. Quinn’s tub, as it turned out, was far superior.
As was the view. And the kitchen. And the bedrooms.
Although, it was nearly as sparsely decorated as the unfurnished and unfinished apartment downstairs we’d previously toured weeks ago. There was no couch or chairs in the living room, no table in the dining room, and only a single dresser and bed in the bedroom- box springs and mattress on the floor, no frame. There were no pictures either.
I had a sheet wrapped around myself and, turning away from him, I glanced down at my underwear. They were white cotton and, as I contemplated it, not at all sexy. Most of my undergarments were chosen for comfort, cost, and practicality. I eyeballed him as I pulled on the granny panties, keeping the sheet in place to nonsensically preserve my modesty.
“Why did you hijack my underwear?”
Quinn was lying on his back, his long form stretched on the unmade bed, his hands behind his head, watching me.
He was completely naked. No sheet for him. Nope. No modesty for Quinn. He appeared to be entirely, mindlessly, at ease in his own skin. I envied his unabashed ability to Just. Be. Naked.
I also appreciated it.
“I hate them.” His gaze swept from where the sheet covered my bottom to my bare shoulder then back to my hidden thighs; the way he perused my body made me shiver.
I snapped the elastic at my waist beneath the sheet, “Is it because they lack frill?”
He shook his head lazily, “No. I don’t care what they look like. I hate all your underwear.”
I frowned, “So you’re an equal opportunity underwear hater?”
“Only your underwear.”
“Underwear serves a critical purpose.”
“I don’t want to know.”
He sat up, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and reached for me by moving aside the edges of the sheet and hooking a finger in the band of the much discussed panties. He brought me to his lap, encouraging me to straddle him, then peeled the sheet from my under my arms. He kept his eyes on mine while extracting the material then crumpled it, tossed it away from us. I shivered. He wrapped his arms around my middle so that his arms crossed behind me and his hands warmed the skin of my sides and stomach, my front against his.
“You’re staying with me tonight. No escape.”
I spread my palms over his bare biceps, “You haven’t given me much of a choice, you’ve even taken my sheet. I can’t go home clothed only in granny panties. It’s supposed to be cold tonight.”
He nuzzled my neck and tightened his grip, pressing our chests together. Although I was thoroughly mussed and mollified from our evening of marathon love making, my heart skipped in at the contact.
“It’s supposed to be cold tomorrow too. Why did you leave your coat at work?” he asked the words against my skin, kissing a path across my collar bone then biting my shoulder.
I was really and truly enjoying physical contact to the point of craving it, yet I did not allow myself to wonder at this inexplicable transformation. My spoken reply was an automatic, thoughtless, breathy sigh, “I didn’t, Jem took it.”
Quinn immediately stiffened and his movements stilled. Abruptly his hands moved to my forearms and he pulled away even as he held me in place, “You saw Jem?”
I met his astonished glare and my mouth struggled to make sound. I squeaked once or twice before I managed to respond, “Yes.”
His eyes seared and scorched, pinning me with an accusatory stare; “When? Where?”
“I- I- I saw her last night. She was- at my- she was waiting for me at my apartment.”
“Damn.” Quinn clenched his teeth, his jaw and temple ticking, and pulled me abruptly against him in a fierce hug. “Damn it, Janie. You should have called me.”
“She didn’t stay long.” I held on to him tightly even though I didn’t precisely understand the ferocity of his reaction.
We held each other for a long moment. My encounter with Jem had been weighing on me like a squatting Sumo wrestler all the previous night and through the morning; but I hadn’t thought about her since Quinn showed up in my office with his greasy lunch offering.
I moved my hand in a slow circle over his bare back, a motion I hoped would sooth the unexpected shift in mood; I kissed his temple then whispered, “I don’t understand why you are so upset.”
“Because Jem is dangerous.” I felt his chest expand; he sucked in a capacious breath as though greedy for air, “I don’t want her anywhere near to you.”