When they reached the table, Reid and Gemma both stood. “Guys, you remember Celia Evans, right?”
“Of course, we do,” Gemma said, giving Celia a light hug as the servers worked quickly and efficiently to add two more place settings to the wooden table. “It’s good to see you again.”
Reid winked at Quin, and he knew they were amused since they knew he’d hooked up with her before.
“Good to see you guys, too,” she said as she sat and Quin pushed in her chair. “You both look great.”
“And so do you.” She turned to Quin. “You said you had a date, but I didn’t think it was Celia.”
“Yeah, sorry if we interrupted your date,” Reid commented.
“It’s fine,” she told them. “It’s not really a date. We’re just friends.”
Quin nodded, but something bothered him about the way Celia classified their date. She was full of mixed signals. Even after she’d told him to take her back to his house, he had no idea what she wanted.
Quin looked at his siblings. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you were cooking tonight.”
“I was going to, but I was kept at the distillery longer than I’d hoped.”
“Anything wrong?”
“Oh, nothing, I’m just anxious about making sure the quick-distilled batches are good and ready to go out.”
Gemma had come up with a way to quickly distill and age their rum. It had been necessary to fill the demand that had grown and almost crippled them, and they’d significantly shortened the amount of time they needed between batches. Turning at least a year-long procedure, to make one of Gemma’s fine batches, into one that took only a month, without affecting the quality. It was something they were all nervous about. Quick-distilling was popular with big, mass-produced rum brands, but they had been desperate to keep the quality and integrity of their small batches intact. But they were confident that Gemma had cracked it. Quin was proud of his younger sister. Her invention had the potential to revolutionize how fine, high-quality rum was made. But she was so quiet, so humble about it. She just wanted to make good rum.
“Yeah, we decided to come here for a quick bite, and imagine our surprise to hear Arlo call your name across the restaurant.” Quin glared at Reid’s shit-eating grin.
“How have you been, Celia?” Gemma asked.
“I’m good. I moved back to town recently for work. So I’m still trying to get my bearings.”
“What are you doing now?” Reid asked.
“I code,” she told him. “I’m working for Seacoast Prestige now.”
Reid caught Quin’s eyes. “Is that right? And how do you like it?”
“It’s fulfilling,” she said. Quin knew she was speaking carefully. She hated Jared as much as he did. “I like the work.”
“I’m sure you know that we’re in the middle of negotiations with them right now,” Reid said.
“Yes. Quin did tell me during the St. Martin trip.”
“You were in St. Martin, too?” Gemma asked, smiling, her eyes wide.
“Mr. Foster asked me to come along. Not sure why—there wasn’t exactly much coding to do in the middle of the Caribbean. But I was grateful for the chance to spend a few days on a luxury yacht.”
Quin wasn’t sure why Celia was lying to them about what she thought about Jared.
“Quin never told us you were there, too.”
“It was quite a happy coincidence,” Quin affirmed. “We were both pretty surprised.” The server took that moment to get their orders. Quin opted for the shrimp in coconut milk—one of his favorites. Waiting for the others to order, he smiled. The evening might not have turned out the way he wanted, but hanging out with Celia, and enjoying the company of Reid and Gemma—it felt like old times.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CELIA TOOK THE last bite of her deep-fried ice cream and put down her fork. Her meal had been amazing, and she was pleased to have found a new favorite restaurant in Miami. Reid was telling her about his new girlfriend, Lila, when Celia almost gasped as Quin put his hand high on her leg. He’d touched her under the table, his fingers tracing lines on the sensitive skin of her thigh. Unable to fully concentrate on Reid’s story, she just let herself focus on Quin’s fingers as he carried on pleasant conversation. Under that long tablecloth, she parted her legs for him and allowed him to swirl his fingertips up her parted legs. When he reached the crevice at the top of her thighs, she could feel his body tense and his touch still as he made contact with her bare flesh.
He cleared his throat. “I think it’s time for us to get out of here,” he told his siblings. He kept his fingers on her, and she thought she might pass out from his touch. He raised his free hand to signal the server.
Celia tried her best to hold on to her hormones as Quin and Reid fought over the bill. But Quin won the argument by throwing a couple of bills hastily on the table. They stood. And even though their dinner had been pleasant, it had lasted several hours, and all Celia could think about now was going to bed with Quin.
“It was great seeing you guys. I hope now that I’m back in town, I’ll see you again.”
“Definitely,” Gemma said. “Let’s do lunch sometime.”
“Yeah, let’s do that. I’ll get your number from Quin.”
“Good night, guys. See you tomorrow.”
With Quin’s hand on her lower back, they left the restaurant. She was barely able to walk; each step increased the delicious pressure that was building deep inside of her.
“That was a lot of fun,” Celia said as they made their way back to his car. “I forgot how great your brother and sister are.”
“They’re okay,” he said, laughing. “I’m glad you had a good time.” He turned the ignition of the car and the engine rumbled to life. He took off up the street. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”
“Which part?”
“That you want me to take you to my place.”
She nodded. “That’s what I want.”
A couple of minutes passed in silence, with nothing but the purr of the engine and the tires gliding over the road filling the interior of the sports car. The vibrations from the engine matched the constant thrum of desire that drummed through her bloodstream. She tried not to, but she wanted Quin so much. When he pulled the car up a long driveway, her eyes widened appreciatively at his house. “Nice place.”
“Thanks,” he said, driving into the garage and parking his car between a black Land Rover and a Harley-Davidson. They got out of the car and he came around to her side. He held out his hand to her. “Come on.”
Her hand felt so small in his as he led her into the house. Through that one touch, she could feel his strength, his warmth, and she wanted to follow him everywhere. Thankfully, he had no intention of letting go of her hand as he showed her around the house.
The place was large, and designed in a masculine but elegant fashion. “I knew Rexford Rum was doing well, but this place is really spectacular. The interior designer alone must have cost a fortune.” Celia knew it was generally rude to talk money, but this was Quin. There was a time when they’d talked about everything.
“We are doing well, but I got lucky. The seller was extremely motivated, and I got a really great price on this place. As for the designer, I did it myself.”
“Really? It looks great.”
“Well, I have exquisite taste,” he said, slanting his eyes down at her.
Quin gave her the tour of all the typical spots—kitchen, dining room, man cave. Enough of that, she thought. Show me the bedroom. But instead he stopped them in the living room. “Have a seat,” he told her. “Why don’t I get a bottle of wine?”
“Sounds good.”
“Any preference?”
“No, whatever you choose is fine.”
She sat on Quin’s plush couch, kicking off her shoes and pulling her
legs up under her. The room was masculine—all clean lines, no clutter, comfortable.
When he came back to the living room, he was holding a bottle of wine in one hand and the stems of two glasses in the other and walked over to the couch. “Cabernet sauvignon good?”
“Love it.”
He smiled and pulled the wine key from his pocket and deftly removed the cork from the bottle and poured two glasses. He sat back and pulled out his cell phone, then tapped the screen a couple of times.
“What, am I boring you already?”
He tapped the screen one more time and put his phone on the end table. Guitar music started playing, and the lights dimmed. He smiled at her. “Sorry. I was looking for a good playlist, and I wanted to adjust the lights.”
She hummed appreciatively at the atmosphere he’d created using his cell phone. “You’re forgiven, I guess.”
They both leaned back into the cushions. Celia sipped her wine and closed her eyes, listening to the music. She’d thought that Quin would take her right to his bedroom, but the fact that they were sitting on the couch, sipping wine, was nice, too. “You know, I don’t think you need any romance pointers,” she told him. “I think you’ve got it down.”
He stretched one arm along the back of the couch and she snuggled into his side. She couldn’t tell if the contact was fully romantic or platonic. She just knew that it felt right.
Quin drank from his glass and cleared his throat. “I think we need to talk.”
“What about?”
“What do you mean, ‘what about’?” he said with a chuckle. “You don’t feel like we need to discuss what we’re doing here?”
Celia knew he was right. “Well, what do you want to know?”
“Where do you stand on this?”
“This?”
“Whatever is going on between us. You say you only want to be friends, you’ve put up walls between us, but you’re the one who told me to bring you here. I just want to let you know that I’m all for it, I’ll take you to bed every night of the week, but I just want to know where you are.”
Celia pushed away from Quin’s body. “I want us to be friends. Over the past eight years, I’ve missed you as a friend.” She paused. “And I try my hardest to not want you.” She put her hand on his chest. “But every time you’re near me, all I can do is want you.”
He cupped his hand over hers, keeping it on his chest. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It terrifies me.”
“Because of that night.”
“Yeah. I was so crushed by you. I loved you so much. And I know we were twenty-two—”
“I was an idiot.”
“I know. And I didn’t handle it well, either. I left the state, for God’s sake. But the way you dismissed me, you hurt me, and it took a long time to heal. So that’s why I didn’t want to make this physical. But I don’t know if I can say no. That’s why I thought this arrangement would be a good way to have the best of both worlds.”
“You can always say no.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I don’t think I can ever apologize enough for hurting you. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. All I can do is make it up to you. I’m going to be honest, I only suggested these dates as a way for us to spend more time together.”
“Yeah, I got that. You need romance tips like Don Juan.”
“But you’re in complete control here,” he told her. “I want you to be happy, and if that means us just being friends, I’ll take whatever I can get.”
The look in his eyes told Celia he was sincere. But it didn’t solve her own inner turmoil. She wanted Quin more than she wanted her next breath, but her common sense told her no.
But too bad for her common sense. Her body’s response was a one-hundred-percent, unequivocal yes! “For tonight, Quin, I want you to take whatever you want.”
His eyes darkened and there was a slight flare in his nostrils. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Grasping her by the waist, He lifted her into his lap. Putting his hands on either side of her face, he drew her to him. He took her mouth in a kiss that was so sweet and gentle. As his tongue danced with hers, his hands trailed up and down her back. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she deepened the kiss. His hands stroked over her entire body—her ass, her thighs—and his fingers warmed every inch of her skin.
She could have kissed him forever, but it could only go on for so long. She pulled back from him and saw his breath was as heavy as hers. “Show me your bedroom,” she told him.
Without another word, he scooped her up and, as if she weighed nothing, carried her up a staircase that led to his bedroom.
He stood her at the foot of the bed, and she went right for his belt buckle, wanting to free him from his pants and get down to business.
“Why so impatient, babe?” he asked her, as his mouth hovered over hers. She could feel his breath wash over her chin and wanted to taste him again.
“This is me being more assertive.”
“And I’m not complaining,” he told her. “But we’ve got all night.”
When his mouth finally descended over hers again, Celia melted against his body. Her limbs turned to liquid, and had he not wrapped his strong arms around her waist, she was certain that she would have fallen to the floor. He’d removed his shirt, and her palms grasped his chest, feeling the soft layer of hair between her fingers, as he guided her backward, their mouths and upper bodies fused, until the mattress hit the back of her legs. He unzipped her dress and pushed it to the floor, and he lowered her slowly to the bed.
She slid up the large mattress, closer to the headboard, watching him and he removed his pants and boxers at once, and he settled between her parted knees.
She wanted him right then and there. She wanted him to touch her, to fill her. We’ve got all night—what a blessing and a curse. She knew that he would take his time, explore her, but she was ready for him now, and she didn’t think she could wait any longer.
Quin positioned himself between her thighs, kneeling before her. He flattened his palms on her knees and pushed them up her thighs, separating them, spreading her legs to him. Celia held her breath in anticipation for his touch where she needed him the most. “Celia,” he breathed, his voice a murmur, low and husky. With just his touch, he was lighting her skin on fire, overwhelming her senses. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, having you again, bringing you to my bed,” he whispered, reaching where her thighs met her torso. He hooked his thumbs underneath the band of her panties, and she raised her hips, allowing him to pull them away from her body, completely exposing her. She heard his rough exhale, and she gasped when he ran two fingers up and down her wet crease; she was completely ready for him. He found her clit and circled the small bundle of nerves with the pads of his fingers, her entire body warmed at his touched, and her moan was loud.
“Me, too,” she said on a shaky breath.
He leaned over her, resting his weight on his forearms on either side of her head, and he kissed her. His mouth took over hers, his tongue driving, plundering her mouth, stealing her breath. He broke away from her mouth, but never removed his lips from her skin, as he kissed his way down her, blazing a hot trail with his lips and teeth across her jawline, down her throat and her shoulder, stubble scratching deliciously against her skin, his lips and tongue smoothing the rash along his way.
When he lowered his attention to her breasts, his mouth encircling the small buds of her nipples, Celia thought that she might explode from the static energy that crackled throughout her body, sending shock waves from her chest straight to her core. He stayed there for several minutes, driving her wild with his lusty groans and the attention of his mouth on one breast, and his fingers on the other, before he switched.
It was too much, and she didn’t think she would be able to handle any more. She
writhed underneath him, simultaneously trying to pull away and get closer to him. Then he moved lower. He dragged his mouth over her, down her middle. His tongue circled her belly button, and dipped inside briefly before he moved even lower, settling between her thighs, her legs over his shoulders.
Celia held her breath for what was to come. She was already so tightly coiled, so full of need, that when he slid his tongue over her in one long, lazy stroke, she broke apart, shattering with her orgasm. She dug the heels of her shoes into the muscles of his shoulder blades, but he didn’t pull away, he stayed with her, his strong, knowing fingers gripping her ass as he feasted on her, drawing out the end of her orgasm until she quieted beneath him.
He moved, reaching for a condom in his nightstand, and her breath quickened. Celia had barely recovered from his attention. But one orgasm had done little to sate her need for Quin. She was already impatient for her next one. However, this time, she wanted him with her. She wanted to feel him inside of her again—she was anxious for it. Craving him.
His hands were on her hips and he pulled her, roughly bringing her to him, lifting her hips to meet his cock, and without any hesitation, he was inside of her.
She pushed her hips up to meet his strokes. His chuckle was slow. “You’re so impatient,” he murmured, and he reached around her hip, again running his fingertips along the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center. Celia couldn’t muster a reply and instead whined, as he drew lazy circles over her, while thrusting inside of her.
Celia cried out at the intense pleasure of feeling him surround her, and when he pulled himself almost all the way out, and entered her again, she arched her back, bucking off the bed. Every time with Quin was so good, better than the last, as he brought her to new heights, so intense it was difficult to breathe, to think, or do anything besides just feeling.
His arms wrapped around her waist and he brought her to him so that she was straddling his thighs. Every time he entered her, his shaft slid along her clit, and the pressure was just enough to bring her closer and closer to the edge.
His groans were loud in her ears and she echoed them with cries of her own. Celia wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly. She reached a point of no return and she had nowhere to go but over the cliff of pleasure, hoping he would be there at the bottom to catch her. She threw back her head and cried out his name as her body convulsed with her orgasm. He held her tightly as his open mouth found her jawline and then her mouth. Pleasure waved and radiated throughout her. She heard his groan and she came back to earth. She fell back on the mattress and he followed her over, landing on her. His weight was pleasant and warm on her, as his lips smoothed over her skin. Her heart was full, and whether that was dangerous, stupid, or whatever, she knew that she could stay there with him forever.
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