Saint (A Dark Mafia Romance)(106)

“You might have a concussion. I can’t let you fall asleep.”

Right, and I’m the fuckin bad guy here. Give me a break.

“Ok, well that's a wrap, guys. We'll check back in tomorrow on the U.N. appropriations stuff.”

I blink away my own daydreams and realize I’ve been scowling for probably half of the meeting that’s now over. The rest of the team starts to pack away folders and laptops as they stand and slowly empty from the room, but I'm still sitting back in my chair, lost in thought and staring at Quinn when I hear Peyton's voice come up behind me.

“Hey, big guy, got a second to go over some numbers?”

I'm barely cognizant of whatever data Peyton has me going over with her, because as soon as I give her my attention, I can see Quinn glaring at us from the corner of my eye. I grin to myself, seeing just a sidelong glimpse of the fiery look I'm getting from her at the other end of the room. Part of me knows it's a cheap shot to let her think what I know she's thinking about Peyton, and I know I should probably get around to settling that little misconception sooner than later. But honestly, making Quinn Archer jealous and getting her riled up like this is just way too much fun. especially when I’ve just decided that the whole mess is actually her fault anyways.

Peyton finishes showing me her spreadsheets and heads out the door past a frosty looking Quinn. And as if I didn't need anymore confirmation of her being ticked off by the whole thing, Quinn very obviously turns her back to me cold-shoulder-style as soon as I get close to her.

Like I said, way too much fun.

“So, Quinn, I need you to be honest with me,” I say, as soon as we’re alone.

She swivels her chair towards me, eyeing me with a frosty expression on her face. “What.”

“Now, think about this, because it’s important, okay?” She nods, and just as her gaze actually starts to soften, I grin.

“How many of those batteries I sent you did you blow through the other night?”

Her whole face goes this adorable shade of pink as she wrinkles her brow and rolls her eyes at me. “Jesus, Logan. Do idiot lines like that work on Peyton?”

She swivels her chair back around and goes to collect her things when I lean in close. “Jealous much?” I whisper in her ear, making her jump as she whirls around.

“What are you, twelve?” She sneers out, that pouty, so obviously jealous look on her face just making her look extra hot and fiery.

“I guess you just bring it out in me, Doc.” I grin.

“So, you flirting around Miss Delta Zeta slut over there has nothing to do with me being in the room and trying to get under my skin?”

I shrug. “Well that depends.”

“On?”

“Did it work?” I wink at her and she huffs and looks away.

“So is all this just because you're mad that I won’t sleep with you again?”

“Been there, done that.”

The slap actually does knock the smile right off my face, if only momentarily. But then I'm just grinning uncontrollably at the how impressed I am that she actually just smacked me.

“Oh my God!” Quinn's eyes go wide as her hands fly to her face. “Oh my God, I'm so sorry!”

“Wow!” I shake my head as I grin at her. “I like seeing this side of you, darlin!”

“Logan, I'm so-”

“Quinn, I know how to take a hit, you know.” I move in closer. Close enough to smell the jasmine of her shampoo and the hint of something minty on her breath. “Besides, that's a nice hook you've got there, Tyson.”

She's wearing this sleeveless blouse, and I move my hands up to slide over the bare skin of her exposed arms. She shivers and then pulls away from me. “Gets your hands off me.”

“Really?”

I smirk as I let one of my hands trail up to her shoulder, and then across her collarbone to the open neckline of her shirt. I'm waiting for her to stop me - hell I'm almost waiting for another slap - but she just bites her lip and looks at me nervously. “You shouldn't be touching me like that, Logan,” she says quietly, not making a single move to push my hand away.

“You shouldn't be letting me touch you like this, Doctor.” I let my hand slide boldly down over the top of her breasts, sliding between them and feeling the heat of her skin and the thud of her pulse as I deftly pop the top button on her blouse open with my hand.

“Someone could-” Her cheeks flush bright pink, and she swallows heavily as I slide my hand down into the front of her blouse and under the lace of her bra. Her nipple is stiff and hard against my palm. I slowly tease it with my fingertips, and I can see her lips tremble as she loses her words.

“Someone could what, Quinn?” I growl, moving against her. “Someone could see how turned on I'm making you?”