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"And now get out of my office."

So I did.

Immediately after I text Quinn before shoving my phone back into my pocket.

Me:

Everything's okay. Your dad hates me slightly more than he did this morning, but I'm still alive.

I add another one.

Me:

I'll tell you everything later. Can I see you tonight?

Quinn’s reply practically radiates relief.

We text back and forth for a while, and with every message, some of the tension from the morning slips away. She sounds almost as giddy as I feel about the fact that we don’t have to hide anymore, like we’ve finally made it through the worst of it and can start figuring out what this new phase of us looks like.

I can’t wait to see her tonight.

We’ll talk, I’ll tell her all about the confrontation with her dad. If she has any doubts I can reassure her, none of the the consequences I could face, scare. I’m in. I want her. I love her. And nothing else matters.

My eyes trail back to her last text on my screen and a heavy, thrumming heat drops straight to my gut.

Talking is only half of what I’m going to do to her tonight.

Now that we don't have to keep our hands to ourselves or worry about someone walking in, the thought of having her completely bare under me makes my jaw tighten. I toss my phone onto the couch, leaning back as my mind turns dark and selfish.

I picture walking through her door and shoving her straight back against the wall before she even gets a chance to speak. I want to pin her hands over her head, bury my face in her neck, and bite down just hard enough to make her gasp. I want to taste the sweet, hot mouth I’ve been starving for all day, pulling her lower lip between my teeth until she’s whimpering against me.

My hands flex, itching with the urgency of it. I want to tear her clothes off, strip her down until there’s nothing left between us, and lift her up so she has to wrap those thighs tight around my hips. I want to feel her wet, hot, and aching for me, pressing herself against the head of my dick while I drive her out of her mind.

I want to push into her all at once, slow and agonizingly deep, filling her up until she’s crying out my name. I want to hear the slick, heavy rhythm of us, feel her walls pulsing around me, gripping me tight every time I hit that exact spot that makes her toes curl. I want to take my time, wrecking her until she’s completely undone under me, shaking and completely mine.

A rough breath drags out of me, and I glance down at the hard bulge straining against the denim of my jeans.

Tonight can't come fast enough.

***

That evening, I’m pulling on my jacket while Pickles watches me from the kitchen like I’ve personally betrayed him by having plans that don’t involve throwing his ball.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ve had dinner.”

His tail thumps once.

“And I’m going to see Quinn.”

Another thump.

“Exactly. Glad we agree. You're staying here tonight..”

I grab my keys and head out.

The drive to Quinn’s place feels different than every other time I’ve made it.

Brennan gave me every reason I should walk away from her, and I didn’t. I don’t even have to think about whether I made the right call.