The Girl Who Doesn't Quit (Soulless Book 12)

by Victoria Quinn

  But he stopped to stare.

  To stare at my mouth.

  To brush his thumb against the corner.

  A predator locked on to his prey, he cupped the back of my head and pulled me in, bringing our lips together.

  With one strap hanging off my shoulder, I circled his neck with my arms, my fingers digging into his short hair, feeling his warm lips separating mine with the precision of a surgeon. His hard chest pressed against my tits and crushed them into my body as he gripped my waist and pulled me in.

  Our kisses filled the living room, and our heat brought up the temperature several degrees. We were standing near the couch, so he hooked his arm around one of my legs and lifted it to the couch, my heel digging into the cushion.

  My hands lifted his shirt up his body during our kiss, getting it to his chest before we broke apart for an instant to tug it off his body.

  I barely got a peek before his hungry mouth was on mine again.

  But that was all I needed.

  He was as ripped as he felt.

  He dragged my dress up my body, getting it to my waistline so my blood-red thong was revealed. One hand cupped the back of my head as he kissed me harder, this time giving me tongue, this time giving me all his heat.

  My hands got to explore him, to map out his physique with my fingertips, trailing the hard line between his chest and his abs, the grooves of his stomach, the vein that went down into his jeans.

  His two fingers slipped underneath the waistband of my panties and migrated down, making me suck in a deep breath once his warm fingers came into contact with my flesh. He rubbed it gently before he moved farther back, his fingers getting wet with my arousal like he knew it would be there. He lubed his fingers before he rubbed my clit, giving a masculine moan as he paused in his kiss. He ended the embrace for just an instant to look at me. In the deepest, sexiest voice I’d ever heard, he said, “I can’t wait to fuck this pussy.” He pulled it off like a pro then kissed me again.

  My nails started to dig into his flesh, feeling his muscular shoulders, his powerful arms. I kissed him back breathlessly, my hips beginning to rock into his fingers because his touch was so damn good.

  He rubbed me harder and harder, giving perfect pressure and consistency, his arm supporting my back as I continued to balance on one heel. When he knew I was close, he paused to watch me.

  My hands held on to his arms, seeing the arousal in his eyes matching the one between my legs. “It’s gonna be a lot harder to make me come later…”

  He rubbed me more forcefully, his eyes fierce with intensity. “No, it won’t.” He pushed me into a climax, supporting me as he watched me writhe in his arms, my leg shaking from the exertion of holding my weight.

  My head rolled back slightly when I exploded. “Yes…” My hips bucked automatically, my panties turned heavy from the weight of my arousal, and I felt every inch of my skin turn bright red in a flush.

  He didn’t gloat with a smile. He just watched, his fingers slowing down once I was finished. He pulled his fingers out of my panties, sucked them between his lips, and then lifted me into his chest. It all happened in just a second, Atlas eager to get me to a bed so he could shove his dick inside me.

  Please have a big dick.

  He laid me at the edge of my bed and slipped off my heels before dragging my panties down my legs. My dress was yanked off too, getting me naked on the bed. He looked me over quickly, seeing my small tits and my flat stomach. Fire was in his eyes, like he wanted my body for the rest of the night. He moved between my legs and pressed his face between my tits, kissing the small cleavage valley before sucking a nipple into his mouth.

  I lay back and enjoyed the bite of his teeth, felt the scruff of thick hair against my skin, tested the hardness of his muscle as I sank my nails into his flesh. I took in the sight of him on top of me, all muscle, all strength, all hotness.

  I grabbed his arm and yanked him to me so I could access his jeans and pop them open, needing to get those bottoms off and see the candy in the shop. I pulled everything down, his jeans and boxers in a single swoop.

  He watched me, purposely wanting to see my reaction.

  Because he did have a big dick.

  Now there was arrogance in his eyes—deep arrogance.

  I liked it.

  He kicked off his shoes and everything else until he stood naked at the foot of my bed.

  Fucking glorious.

  “In your nightstand?”

  I nodded.

  He helped himself, rolled on the condom, and then came back.

  “Hurry.” I pulled him to me, my ass on the edge of the bed.

  His arms hooked behind my knees, and he sank into me, his body moving over mine as he kept me pinned in place.

  A loud moan escaped my lips because it was a perfect fit, a perfect dick.

  He moaned too, his dick so big that it still felt squeezed even with a condom on.

  Then he went to town.

  He thrust hard and fast, a perfect tempo, all the muscles of his core tightening as he held himself above me and drilled me at the same time.

  I got to lie there and watch his beautiful body tighten and move, the lines of definition more pronounced, like this was a heavy session at the gym. The kisses were over because there was no available energy for it. His entire focus was on me, driving his dick deep and hard, hitting me in the perfect spot over and over.

  I didn’t even see it coming because it happened so fast. A flush of heat hit me, my toes curling until they ached, and I let out a moan louder than before because it was a climax better than the last.

  “Fuck…” It was so good.

  He kept the pace until I fully finished then let himself go, eyes locked on mine as he filled the condom, letting a quiet moan escape his lips.

  My hands trailed down his body as he caught his breath, as he kept his softening dick inside me.

  With a flushed face and shiny sweat all over his hot-as-fuck body, he said, “We good?”

  All I had to do was lie there and enjoy it, but I was the one who was speechless. I gave a nod.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  When I went into the office the next day, I was actually a little bit nervous.

  And I was never nervous.

  My stomach was tight, and my heartbeat was irregular. Up, down, up. It was all over the place.

  I entered the office space, checked in with my assistant, Alyssa, and then went into my office.

  Atlas passed by the glass windows, his muscular frame unmistakable, his mind focused on work.

  I sat down and opened the folder he’d left, looking through it for the first time. His notes were different from what I was accustomed to, but I could follow what he was saying. He drew thought bubbles that branched out to other symptoms, along with various explanations for each. When each symptom had the same diagnosis, he knew he’d found his answer. It was a glimpse into his mind—which was complicated.

  I grew fascinated and continued to read.

  A moment later, my office door opened. “Did you check my folder?” Atlas was all business and no play, storming into my office like the boss he was. When he had a lot on his plate, he dropped civility altogether and just got straight to the point.

  “I’m looking at it now.”

  “I know he already had those tests done at Mayo, but I think they need to be repeated because there is no other conclusion to draw.”

  “Wouldn’t hurt.”

  “If they come back negative, we go to the Network.”

  “Okay.”

  He headed out.

  “Wait.”

  He turned back to me, one hand on the door.

  “Are we members of the Network?”

  He continued his stare like he didn’t understand the question.

  “Other people pose questions, right? Can we receive them?”

  “I get them and respond if I have input.”

  “Can the rest of us be included?”

 
; “I represent the clinic—”

  “But we’re eight other different minds with different specialties.”

  He kept his hand on the door, considering the request. “Alright. I’ll set it up.”

  “Thanks.”

  He shut the door and left—like we didn’t just fuck hard last night.

  At the end of the day, I went into his office. “You got a minute?”

  “Yeah.” He finished typing on his computer, his eyes on the screen.

  I helped myself to the armchair and crossed my legs.

  His eyes reflected the light of the screen, and the glow highlighted the masculine angles of his face. His dark eyes seemed even darker in the light. He moved his fingers over his lips as he read over what he’d just written, absent-mindedly touching them as he remained deep in thought. Then he sent it off and gave me his full attention.

  “I’ve got good news.” I slid the folder across the surface toward him. “You were right.”

  He opened it and looked over the labs he’d requested to repeat. A smile moved on to his lips. “Awesome.”

  He was right a lot of the time, and that made me admire him in a way I didn’t before. He had a lot of projects going at once, but he never dropped the ball at work. This was all I did, besides my poker tournaments, and sometimes it felt like too much. “I already moved forward with the next steps.”

  He closed the folder and set it off to the side. “This is the kind of collaboration I wanted when I came here. I’ve recorded the number of cases we’ve cracked compared to what you guys were doing before I took over for Dylan. We’re up by twenty-five percent.”

  “Wow. But we were already doing collaboration before.”

  He stared at me.

  “That twenty-five percent is because of you.”

  He shrugged it off. “We’re making progress. That’s all that matters.”

  “You still intend to grow the facility?”

  “Absolutely. Just need to spend some time in the trenches first before I take that on.”

  I nodded in agreement, appreciating the fact that he wanted to take it slow—not move as fast as he could and cause things to break apart.

  “You want to grab some dinner?”

  “Depends. Is this a date?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Just wanted to know if I’m going to get laid at the end of it.”

  He grinned, looking so damn handsome when he did it. “With me, you’ll always score.”

  I threw my fist up. “Yes.”

  He chuckled. “You want to go now?”

  “Yes. But I have one stipulation.”

  He closed his laptop and rose to his feet. “You and your stipulations. What is it?”

  “I don’t like the fancy scene. I’m a casual eater. So, if you want to take me out somewhere, I’m down for a burger and fries.”

  “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier…”

  We sat across from each other at the sports bar, one of my favorite places to go after a long day at the clinic. Chatter and music were loud overhead, the TV showed the baseball game, and we drank our beers as we split a basket of fries and ate our burgers.

  “So, if we’re going to do this, we should probably talk about the work situation.”

  He took a drink of his beer before he licked his lips. “What’s the work situation?”

  “You’re smart—I know you can figure this out.”

  He smiled before he grabbed a fry. “I don’t think there’s a situation.”

  “Well, we should keep it private.”

  “Why?” Just when he finished his beer, the waitress brought him another—along with plenty of smiles.

  Wasn’t jealous. Couldn’t blame her. “Because it’s inappropriate for me to be dating my boss.”

  “Says who?”

  “I just think we should keep it private, okay?”

  “No.” He ate another fry and chewed it as he stared at me.

  “No?” Did he just say that to me?

  “I don’t do secrets.”

  “It’s not a secret. It’s just professional.”

  “Professional is not screwing on my desk while our colleagues are in the office. Secret is hiding your life from everyone around you. There’s a difference. Yes, we will be professional at work at all times, but I’m not going to hide my life from people.”

  “I just don’t want people to think I’m getting special treatment—”

  “And you won’t.”

  I sighed before I dug my hand into the shared basket of fries and grabbed a handful. “Fine…whatever.”

  “When’s your next poker tournament?”

  “Quite the change in subject…”

  “I’d rather enjoy this date than watch you sulk in your silent tantrum.”

  “I am not throwing a tantrum—”

  “You always have to get your way. And you don’t like it when you don’t.”

  “Well, who does?”

  He flashed a smile. “Answer the question.”

  “In a couple weeks.”

  “Do you do anything to prepare for those?”

  I shook my head. “Not really.”

  “You’re just that good?”

  “Just that smart, you mean.”

  He grabbed his new glass and took a drink. “Is that how you afford that nice place?”

  “Yep.”

  “Smart.”

  “You don’t think I’m superficial?” I’d been told that before, that I did something only for the money, while my opponents were more invested in the game. “That it’s unfair that I win most of the time because I’m smarter than everyone else?”

  “No. You want nice things and are utilizing your skills to make that happen. There’s nothing wrong with that. And is it unfair? Of course it is. But that’s life.” He took another drink. “The clinic doesn’t pay a lot, at least not for Manhattan, and you work so many hours that you’re basically volunteering most of the time. So, to answer your question, no. I don’t think you’re superficial. Has a guy told you that before?”

  “A couple times.”

  “They’re just pissed they can’t do it.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I think too. I’ll meet a guy and everything will be going well, but then when I tell him more about myself, he gets really intimidated and the whole energy is totally different.”

  “Lame.”

  “Do you have that problem?”

  “What?”

  “Women being intimidated by you?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “What about that woman you were in a long-term relationship with? You said she was smart.”

  “Yes. She was a biomechanical engineer. Creates vaccines, drugs, all kinds of things…”

  “Oh wow, that’s cool.”

  “And no, she never was.”

  “Why did you guys break up?”

  The question changed his mood noticeably. He kept his hand on the top of his glass but didn’t take a drink. “Just didn’t work out.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  He took a drink. “I just don’t want to talk about her. Ever.”

  “Damn, it must have ended pretty badly, then.”

  He gave a slight nod. “In divorce.”

  “Oh… I didn’t know you were married.”

  “Briefly. Just a couple years.” He drank his beer then looked away. His elbows rested on the table, and he examined the people in the bar, like he wanted this conversation to die.

  “Can I ask how long you’ve been divorced?” Because if it was still off-the-cuff raw, then this was probably a bad idea.

  “About three years now.”

  Then that should be fine. He wasn’t still hung up on her, just bitter. “My dad was married to someone else before he met my mom.”

  He turned back to look at me, relieved by the change in subject. “He mentioned that.”

  “It’s weird because I can’t picture him
with anyone except my mom.”

  “Yeah, they’re cute together.”

  “My mom is hot, huh?”

  His eyebrows furrowed.

  “Come on, it’s fine. She totally is. When we go out, she still gets offers—by guys my age.”

  “No comment.” He grinned and took a drink.

  “She’s a fox.”

  “I’m not checking out my boss’s wife.”

  “Oh, so it has nothing to do with me?” I asked with a laugh.

  He grinned. “If you put me on the spot, I’m gonna tell you how it is. If you don’t want to know, don’t ask.”

  “Alright. Who was a better lay? Me or Lydia?”

  “Jesus, is this how you do dates?” he asked incredulously.

  “I’m just curious. She had those knockers, so…”

  He shook his head and took another drink.

  “You aren’t going to answer?” I asked.

  “You, alright?”

  I brushed off my shoulder. “Still got it.”

  He fished his hand in the basket and grabbed more fries. “What about me? How do I compare to that guy you were hung up on?”

  “Hmm…kinda different.”

  “I was different?” he asked in surprise.

  “No. I just meant different situations.”

  “How are they different? Was I better or was he?”

  “I was in love with him, so…” I dropped my gaze and looked at the fries. “That would be like asking if I was better than your ex-wife. Can’t really compare the two because the circumstances were different.”

  “I guess that’s true. How long has it been since you parted ways?”

  “About a year and a half.”

  “Surprised he didn’t come crawling back.”

  “Psh. He gets more pussy than he can handle.”

  “Quality over quantity. He’ll learn that eventually—and come back.”

  “Better not,” I said with a scoff. “I’d punch him in the face.”

  He grinned. “Good. Looks like I have no competition.”

  “After last night…you definitely don’t.”

  That grin widened. “Good. Because I’m not seeing anybody and have no intention of doing so.”