The Dirty Series 2(27)

We kiss for so long that when we come up for air, I’m gasping for breath. Christian’s arms lock around me, our cheeks pressed together.

“I did it for you,” he says, his voice heavy and thick.

There’s nothing I can think of to say, except:

“I know. I love you. I love you.”





Chapter Forty-Eight





Christian



Everything is complete chaos from the very moment I end the press conference, but there’s nothing comparable to when Quinn comes sprinting down the sidewalk in the summer heat and our bodies connect with such force that despite my strength, we almost end up sprawled out on the sidewalk on national television.

Not that it would matter much. Now that I’ve revealed a secret that’s sure to shock the nation, falling down probably wouldn’t get much press coverage.

Although, with the Internet, you never know.

Her kiss is powerful, furious, full of forgiveness.

It takes me by surprise, and at the same time, it’s exactly what I would expect out of a love like ours.

I want to tell her that her presence is a balm on my aching heart, that I would have done all this for her and more, that I know there’s a long road ahead of us, that I know this is just the start.

Instead, I choke out the only words I can muster: “I did it for you.”

And Quinn says the only words I want to hear. “I know. I love you. I love you.”

It’s only when I’m finally able to loosen my grip on her, to pull myself away, that we both become aware, once again, of the cameras, of the bloggers with their phones out, filming every moment of our reunion  , and of the kiss, and inevitable live broadcasting of it to their audiences.

All across the country, I’m absolutely positive that we’re making headlines.

I don’t care.

All I care about is that she came back to me, and we have another chance.

I wipe the grin off my face and give the press a serious expression, then nod my head, steer Quinn by the elbow, and guide her inside the lobby, Frank on our heels.

Once we’re in the cool of the lobby, he bursts out laughing. “Boy, what a display!” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll give you two a moment. That was incredible. My God.”

He walks away, hands in his pockets, probably wondering how he lucked into a client like me.

Quinn is still catching her breath, but she instantly reaches for my hand and squeezes it. Her eyes are a mixture of confusion and relief and love and every other possible emotion under the sun.

She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again. Her green eyes narrow.

“I don’t know what to call you, now that—” She gives a little shrug.

I do. I know.

“My name is Elijah Pierce,” I say, releasing her hand, stepping back, and extending my right hand as if we’re just meeting. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

Quinn takes my hand with a smile and shakes with the same firm confidence as the first time we shook hands, six weeks and a million years ago in her office. “Quinn Campbell,” she answers. “Your girlfriend. If you’ll have me.”

I pull her into my arms and hug her again, kissing the smooth skin of her cheek, slightly dewy from sprinting up to the building. “I think the better question is, will you have me? I know I’m not the man you thought you knew.”

“Aren’t you?” she says, pulling back and searching my eyes, her gaze intense. “I’m not sure that’s true, Chr—Elijah,” she says, correcting herself at the last moment. “Maybe you played a part sometimes, like when I saw you at the Swan, but I’ve seen the real you, too. Very real, if you know what I mean.” Quinn’s eyes are sparkling, and I get flashes of all the time we’ve spent in bed together. My cock hardens, pressing against my zipper. “You know,” she continues, her voice thoughtful. “There could be a part of you—the real you—who likes to be the center of attention. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”

Quinn’s words hit me like a sucker punch delivered by a choir of angels.

It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.

It’s fucking true.

I can enjoy the company of my friends and close down the Swan and be the kind of guy who wants to settle down with a woman, keeping her close to me for the rest of my life.

Whether my friends will still want to see me is a question that remains to be answered.

I scoop her up into my arms and kiss her on the cheek again, then take her by the shoulders and look deeply into those glinting green eyes. “You’re a wonder, Quinn. A damn wonder.”

She grins up at me. After a moment, though, her face turns serious.

“Eli—can I call you Eli?”