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Quinn arched his eyebrows but didn’t respond.

Grant glanced once more at the two of us standing together before taking a step back. “No hard feelings.” It wasn’t quite an apology, but it wasn’t a challenge either. Then he turned and walked toward the bar.

Beside me, Quinn let out a slow breath, and somewhere deep in my chest something shifted.

Quinn hadn’t just stood up to Grant. He’d rewritten the rule that had haunted me for years.

And later, I’ll tell him. He deserved to know.

I waited until Grant was at the bar before speaking.

“Quinn.”

He let out a slow breath. “I’m okay.” His voice was steady, but the tension in his shoulders hadn’t entirely dissipated.

Duncan was still standing there, watching the proceedings with wide eyes.

I leaned in close and brought my lips to Quinn’s ear. “We don’t have to do a scene tonight. We can leave. Or we can stay and not play.”

Quinn shook his head immediately. “No.”

I drew back and studied him. “Are you sure?”

Quinn glanced across the room once more, and I followed his gaze. Grant was already speaking to someone at the bar, his back turned to us.

Then Quinn looked at me. “Yes.” His eyes were clear. “If I leave because he’s here, then he still has power over me.” His jaw tightened. “I’m not giving him that.”

I shuddered out a breath.

Quinn’s mouth curved into a small, dangerous smile. “I asked you to shake up my world, remember?” He stepped closer to me, until I could feel the warmth radiating from him. “This seems like a good place to start.”

For a moment I simply looked at him.

Then I nodded.

“Very well.” I couldn’t hold the words in a moment longer. I tilted his chin up with my fingertips, and smiled. “I have never been prouder of you.” I closed the gap between us and kissed him, not bothering to rein it in.

I didn’t care who knew it.

Quinn Wright had rocked my world.

He broke the kiss. “Wow. You fight dirty.” I frowned, and he grinned. “You kiss me like that and get my engine running, when I’m not allowed to come? That’s just mean.” He glanced at the fuck machine. “Why don’t we use this before it starts gathering dust?”

I released him and gave a pointed stare at his jock.

He flushed. “Oops. Forgot the bit where you wanted me naked.” He removed the garment, then handed it to Duncan. “Would you look after that?”

“Sure.”

Then Quinn lowered himself to the floor and crawled towards the fuck machine, slowly, carefully, his movements measured. I followed, drinking in the view of that lightly furred arse, those round globes, his dick pointing to the floor. When he reached it, I bent down and stroked his hair.

“Kneel.”

Quinn rose to his knees, and I kissed him, exploring him, loving the low moan that escaped him.

I took a step back and patted the bench. “Up you get.”

Quinn climbed onto it, his knees resting on the pads angled downwards, his forearms on the front pads. I reached under him to free his dick, allowing it to hang, pressed against the padded edge of the centre bench. I signalled to Duncan, and we faced each other over Quinn, fastening the straps, making sure they held Quinn securely and without discomfort. One strap went around his ribs, the other above his hips.