She cries out and grabs me by the hair when I slide my mouth over her, tasting her pussy and devouring her like a starving man. She’s bucking wildly against me, and prim little Quinn Archer loudly moaning my name and rocking her sex against my face is possibly the single hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
“Oh fuck oh fuck, we- we can’t - we- oh GOD, oh FUCK, LOGAN!”
When she crashes over, it’s loud, and explosive, and she tastes like honey as she comes on my tongue.
16
Quinn
So, part of me is freaking out about what I’ve just done - again - with Logan because we work together. Another part of me is throwing a fit because of what my sisters would say, or my father for that matter. And then there’s a third part of me that can’t believe I just let that scenario happen again after all the moaning and groaning and sworn protesting to the contrary I’ve been doing over the last week or so.
But that doesn’t really matter, because all of me is very much into the reality that Logan Dempsey is kissing me hard on the mouth, with my legs wrapped around his waist and my body still throbbing from the feel of his tongue on me. I can taste my own sweetness on his lips, but instead of totally turning me off like I’d assume it would, I actually find myself kissing him harder, and deeper, and wanting even more from him.
God; what am I doing? I’ve spent the better part of my entire waking and even sleeping existence since the wedding cursing myself for letting this exact thing happen the first time. I’ve been practically useless at work since I’ve been spending my hours there staring at walls trying to shrink-talk my way out of thinking of this man all the damn time. But for all of my pep-talks, and vows, and lengthy internal monologues, where do I find myself?
Exactly where I swore I’d never be again; lip-locked and moaning against Logan Dempsey.
I should fire my inner-shrink.
“More,” I whisper, grabbing at the bulge in the front of his briefs. He’s huge, and I feel a shudder of electric desire course through me at the sheer anticipation of what I want right now from him, and from this tool in my hand.
I’m slipping my hand under the elastic, feeling him growl into my mouth as my fingers tease down the trail of hair over his rock-hard abs, and lower until I-
“I hope I’m not interrupting, Logan.”
I shriek at the sound of the voice behind us, especially since I’m sitting here on the edge of the hotel pool totally naked with my legs wrapped around a mostly naked Logan. I see his face grow dark as he flashes a snarling look at the sound of the man’s voice behind me and before I know it, his powerful arms grab me off the edge and whirl me around behind him.
“What the fuck do you want, Javier.”
I’m hiding naked behind Logan’s broad back, and as I peep over his shoulder, my eyes go wide as I recognize the man leaning nonchalantly against the pool bar. He has the same look of dark humor on his face as he did back at the warehouse, when he confronted Logan after the fight. His long, slick black hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and he arches a dark brow as he sees me peeking out from behind Logan.
“Well, well; so this is how the rich live large, huh?” His accent sounds Spanish, and he nods appreciatively as he looks around the deserted pool; “Nice booze, private pool parties, and a hot little doctor, huh Irish? You’ve got yourself set up nice and pretty now don’t you?”
It takes me a second to appreciate the sudden cold feeling of fear shooting through me, but then I place it; ‘hot little doctor’. How in the hell does this guy know anything about me?
“I’m going to ask you again,” Logan’s voice is dark and dangerous sounding; the muscles of his shoulders tensing and bunching; “What do you want, and how the fuck did you get up he-”
“Oh, give me a little credit, cabrón!” He grins at Logan; “You’re not the only guy who knows how to grease wheels my friend.” He reaches into his pocket, and Logan’s whole body tenses for a second; “Oh relax, Papi; you just forgot this.” He tosses a bundle of something at Logan, and as it’s not until it splashes down in front of us and sits there floating in the pool that I realize it’s a bundle of cash with a rubber-band around it.
A bundle of cash that looks a whole lot like the blood-stained one from his pocket that first night.
“I told you, I don’t want it.”
Javier grins wickedly; “Oh, but I want you to have it!”
Logan’s jaw tightens and I can hear a growl at the back of his throat as I clutch at his back; “I don’t need it.”
Javier’s grin drops in an instant; “I don’t give a shit what you need, marica.” The warmness in his voice from before, however fake, is dropped like a rock; “You take it ‘cause I want it to remind you of our deal.”