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Dawson Family Boxset (Books 1-3)

Page 9

by Emily Goodwin


  “No, I said I wanted to take you out.”

  “So you do want this to be a date.”

  “Would it be a bad thing if it was?”

  My body is saying no, it wouldn’t be bad. It’s begging and pleading for me to go, reminding me just how long it’s been since I felt the touch of a man. But my heart…it’s screaming even louder, telling me yes, it would be a very bad thing.

  “I don’t know.”

  Archer stands, and his cock is right at my eye level. I turn my head up, meeting his eyes.

  “What do you have to lose?” he asks.

  Everything.

  “Fine. Let’s go on a date.”

  “Don’t tell Dean.”

  I roll my eyes and let out a sharp breath. Of course he has to bring up my brother. “I send selfies from all my dates to my brothers.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, for their approval,” I say seriously before shaking my head. “You know what’s kind of crazy?”

  “What?”

  “I’m my own person and I’m able to function without telling my brothers everything.” I put my hands on the arms of the lounge chair and stand up. “I’m going to get changed.”

  “Again?”

  “I’m wearing my pajamas. I changed after you passed out on the couch.”

  “Oh.” He looks me over. “You look good. I didn’t even notice.”

  I will not blush. I will not blush. I will not—dammit. “Well, I think everyone else will notice my pants have little dancing elephants on them. And I’m not wearing a bra.”

  “I did notice that.”

  “Pig.” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “That’s making it worse, Quinn.”

  A quick look down tells me crossing my arms just pushed my tits together so they’re almost spilling out of my tank top.

  “I’ll be right back.” I clamp my hands over my breasts to cover my nipples and do my best not to run away. Deciding not to go with the sexy outfit I’d previously picked out, I pull a blue dress over my head. I discovered a while ago a cute yet comfy dress can make it look like you put more effort into your outfit than you actually did. Dresses seem to have that effect, fancying-up your appearance simply by not being pants.

  “I still think you looked good in the pajamas,” Archer says when I emerge from the bedroom. “But I do like this too.”

  “Thanks.” He put his button-up back on and has the sleeves rolled up. I don’t know why that look is so damn sexy, but it is. “The professional look works for you.”

  “I prefer my scrubs with a stethoscope hanging around my neck so everyone knows I’m a doctor. But, unfortunately, I didn’t bring them.”

  “You’re going to have to pretend to be a lowly peasant like the rest of us.”

  “If that’s what it takes to get you to go on a date with me, I’m willing to take one for the team.” He moves to the door and puts on his shoes. “Shall we?”

  “Hang on, I need to get my selfie to send to Dean.” I put my arm around him, doing the cheesiest pose I can think of, and snap a picture. “And now to caption it…” I pretend like I’m writing a text message. “Archer is taking me on a hot date tonight. Don’t worry, we’ll use protection.” I flick my eyes to him, smiling. “Sent.”

  “Hilarious, Quinn. We both know Dean would try to kill me if he thought I was hooking up with you.”

  “He would kill you.”

  “He’d try.” Archer hands me my purse. “I could take him.”

  The image of Archer’s bulging biceps is seared into my memory. “Yeah, probably.” I punch in the code on my alarm and open the door. “I guess we better not tell him then.”

  “Now this one is serious,” I say, tipping my head up to look at Archer. We’re slowly making our way along the Riverwalk after getting dinner and drinks. I might be a little buzzed. Whether it’s from the alcohol or the electricity humming between Archer and I, there’s no way to tell.

  “I’m ready.” Archer takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine.

  “You’re alone in the car and ‘Living on a Prayer’ comes on. What do you do?”

  “I turn that shit up and belt it out. Which I’d do even if I wasn’t alone, just to warn you.” He pulls my hand back, bringing me to him. The wind picks up, and I shiver. Archer lets go of my hand to wrap his arms around me. The feeling he gives me can only be described as butterflies, and I haven’t experienced anything like this in years.

  “Did I pass the test?”

  “Yes,” I tell him. “But things are about to get more intense. “What if ‘Shake it Off’ comes on next?”

  “I’m alone?”

  “Totally alone. On a country road.”

  “Hmmm.” His hands slide up and down my back. I shiver again, but not from the cold. “That song is catchy. I’ll be singing and dancing.”

  I laugh, throwing my head back so the wind doesn’t blow my hair into his face. “Do you even know the words?”

  “No. I know what song you’re talking about. I think. Maybe? I don’t want to fail your test.”

  Hooking my arms around his shoulders, I shuffle closer until my hips brush his. “There was no test. Mostly because I wasn’t keeping score.”

  “You put me through all that for nothing?”

  “Guilty. What are you going to do about it?”

  In a sudden and swift movement, he scoops me up and turns to the river.

  “Archer,” I squeal, clinging to him tighter. “Don’t you dare!” We both laugh and his hands linger over my body as he sets me back down. We stand there, close together, both of our hearts pounding. The wind blows my hair again and Archer gathers it in one hand, moving it to the side of my neck.

  “Have you decided yet?” His deep voice cuts through the night. He looks into my eyes when he talks and the confidence is sexy on him. It’s not over the top. It’s not hyped up to over-compensate for something. It’s completely genuine and is doing bad things to me right now.

  Bad things that would feel so good.

  “On what?”

  “On whether you want this to be a date or not.”

  I bite my lip. “You have to answer one more question first.”

  “If your question is if I put out on the first date, I have been known to.”

  Laughing, I bring my hands down from his shoulders, splaying my fingers on his chest. An attractive man who can make me laugh…I need to run far, far away. Because as much as I want this to continue, I know it won’t.

  It can’t.

  “That’s kind of along the lines of my question.”

  He wiggles his eyebrows. “I like where this is going. What’s your question?”

  “If this is our first date, will you take me out on a second?”

  11

  Archer

  “Yes.” The word leaves my mouth before I have a chance to think about it. Quinn doesn’t say anything, doesn’t react. Her lashes come together in a blink, and she looks at me, almost as if she’s waiting for me to tell her I’m joking.

  Then she smiles.

  It’s the most beautiful thing in the world. And right now, with her hands on my chest and my arms locked around her waist, I want to kiss her hard and tell her I’d take her on a thousand dates and it wouldn’t be enough.

  The moment is over as fast as it started, and I’m sure she’s thinking the same thing I am. She lives in Chicago. I live in Indy. We’re not worlds away, but a four-hour drive makes starting a relationship hard.

  I don’t know the next time I’ll be able to get away from work long enough to come see her. It could be weeks before I’m able to drive back up north and take her on a second date.

  My heart starts to ache, even though everything I want is right in front of me for the taking. Quinn slides her hands down my torso and around my back. She rests her head on my chest and admires the skyline above us.

  This is exactly what I’ve wanted, what I’ve wished for. And now that I had a taste, now that I know
how fucking good it feels to finally let my feelings surface, it’s going to hurt. I need to disengage.

  “It’s getting late.”

  “Yeah,” Quinn agrees, pulling away. Instantly, I miss her touch and the warmth of her skin. “We should head back. If you want to crash on the couch, you can. Do you have to be back at the convention thingy tomorrow?”

  “There are a few more panels to sit in on, but I don’t have to be there until nine. It’s the last day and they’ll be done around two.”

  “That was a short convention.”

  “It started earlier in the week, but I couldn’t get off work.”

  She clasps her hands on her elbows, holding her arms in tightly against her body to stay warm. Not pulling her close goes against every fiber of my being, like I’m wired to do everything and anything to make her comfortable.

  “Do you like being a surgeon?”

  “I do. I better, right? I’ve put enough into it.”

  “Yeah. You’d have wasted a lot of time if not.”

  We go a few paces without talking, and I hate how much the dynamic changed between us. It’s because of me, and Quinn has to fucking know it. A gust of wind blows in off the lakefront. It’s cold, chilling me and I’m in long sleeves and pants.

  I can’t help it. My arm wraps around Quinn and the moment we connect, I relax.

  “Do you want my shirt?”

  “Then you’ll be half-naked.”

  “I have an undershirt,” I remind her. “I should have worn the suit jacket just so I could give it to you.”

  She tries not to smile. “That would have been very gentlemanly. Though you’d think I’d learn to dress for the weather. I have lived here for quite some time. When the wind blows over the lake, it’s always cold.”

  Not wanting to make her walk in the cold, I hail a cab. There’s not much traffic this time of night, and we get back to the loft quickly.

  “You really can stay,” she says again, taking off her shoes. I don’t move out of the entryway. I shouldn’t stay though I want to. “Or you can call an Uber to take you back to your hotel.”

  I pull my phone from my pocket and see that it’s dead. Quinn says she has an extra charger and that I shouldn’t leave until my phone has some battery life in case I need to make an emergency call. She reminds me of her mother there, and it’s more endearing than I thought it’d be. She goes into her room to get the charger. I step out of my shoes and sit in the living room, looking around at the decor. The stark modernity of the space isn’t something I’d guess Quinn would have gone for, but the view is amazing and she’s close to her office. She’s done a good job making this large, white space look homey and feel cozy.

  Everything is so Quinn, tasteful yet a little quirky.

  “Here ya go.” She comes back into the living room, holding a phone cord, and crouches down next to the couch to plug it into the wall. Then she takes my phone from me and hooks it up.

  She takes a step back and crosses her arms over her body again. I hate that she feels like she has to physically guard herself from me. Hurting her is the last thing I want to do, which is exactly why we need to stop this before it starts. “I’m going to get some water. Do you want some?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  I watch her go into the kitchen, cats following her in hopes of more food. Her dress hugs her curves in all the right places. It’s loose around her legs, hiding her tight ass until she moves and the outline can be seen through the thin fabric. The neckline of her dress goes to a deep-V, tight against her tits.

  She moves her hair over her shoulder and picks up the cats’ water bowl, rinsing it out and filling it up before she grabs two water bottles from the fridge and comes back to the couch. Taking a long drink, she recaps her water and sits back with a sigh.

  I thought she was a little drunk before. Nothing like pulling a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde to make a girl sober up.

  My phone buzzes back to life, beeping from a missed text. I glance over, curious to see who it’s from but not really interested in opening it. Then I see it’s from my mom. There’s only one reason she’d text me this late. I put the water bottle on the coffee table and turn away from Quinn to unlock my phone.

  My heart speeds up and I try to prepare myself for the worst. I always do. Because someday, the worst will happen.

  Mom: Bobby passed out. We just got to the hospital. I tried calling you, but it went straight to voicemail. I hate leaving you messages like this, but I wanted to tell you in case…you know. I’ll update you when I can.

  The next text was sent sometime later.

  Mom: It’s his kidneys again, and they’re putting him on some new medication. We’ll be home in the morning. Don’t worry about calling tonight. We’re all exhausted and I know how hard you’ve been working. We’re proud of you, Archie. Love you.

  “Archer?” Quinn’s voice is as soft as her touch. Her hand lands on my arm. “Is everything okay?”

  I read the text again. One of these times, medical intervention isn’t going to be enough. One of these times, my brother is going to take it so far there’s no coming back. Years of drug use have already taken their toll on his body, and he’s only a year and a half older than me.

  “Is everything okay?” she asks again.

  I put my phone down, shifting my gaze from the bright screen to Quinn’s beautiful face.

  “It will be.”

  She pushes her hair back and nods. “Are you tired?” she asks carefully, and I read between the lines. She’s wondering if I’m going to stay or go, though I can’t tell what she’s hoping for.

  “Not really.”

  “Oh, uh, okay.”

  Silence falls between us, and over the noise of the city below, I can hear my own heart pounding away in my chest. Quinn tucks her legs up under herself and leans forward to pet Neville, who jumped up next to me, purring. Quinn’s dress gaps and her tits almost spill out. The will of the gods couldn’t keep me from stealing a glance. The faint outline of her nipple is visible through the thin material of a light purple bra. There’s no padding. No pushup. I want to bury my face between her breasts and kiss my way down to her sweet cunt.

  My cock jumps as an intense wave of desire crashes over me. I don’t know how much longer I can resist her. It was one thing when I wasn’t sure if she wanted me too, but after tonight I know she does.

  I want her so fucking bad. But I shouldn’t.

  “Well, I had a nice time,” Quinn starts, not looking away from the cat. “Even if you didn’t, I did. So, uh, thanks for taking me out on our non-date.”

  “What makes you think I didn’t have a nice time too?”

  She brings her arms back in and shrugs, shyly flicking her gaze to mine. “I don’t know.”

  “I did, Quinn. I had a nice time, too.”

  She brings her head up, this time staring at me dubiously. “You seemed to like it until the end. Again. And I just—” She cuts off, letting out an exasperated sigh. “You know what, it’s fine. Never mind. It’s like you’re playing a game whenever we’re together, giving me just enough of yourself to make me want more. You open up only to shut me out, and even if I had all the cheat codes to force a win, this isn’t a game I want to play.” She closes her eyes, jaw tense, and stands. “I’ll call you an Uber. It’s late and I’m sure you’re tired.”

  “Quinn, don’t.”

  “Why? One minute I think you like me and the next you can’t get away from me fast enough. I can’t figure you out, Archer, and it’s making me feel really fucking stupid.”

  I get to my feet and grab her wrist, gently pulling her hand toward me. I take her phone and toss it on the couch.

  And then I kiss her.

  12

  Quinn

  My heart pounds with indignation as anger surges through me. I don’t know who I’m more mad at: myself or Archer. Though right now, with his lips pressed to mine, it’s hard to be anything other than stunned.

  He moves in, hands landin
g on my waist. Pushing his tongue into my mouth, he brings me in tight against him. My breasts crush against his chest and heat floods my veins.

  I’m not stunned anymore.

  And I’m not pissed.

  Archer’s lips are soft and full. His kisses are hard and desperate. Together, it’s a recipe for disaster. My resolve is crumbling. I should stop him now before there’s nothing left.

  But I don’t want to stop him, not when it feels so good.

  “Quinn,” he pants, pressing his forehead against mine. I bring my arms up around his neck and shuffle closer, parting my legs and pushing my hips into his. Archer has never held me like this before. We’ve never been so close. And he’s certainly never kissed me. Being in his arms is the most familiar new feeling in the world. It doesn’t make sense. All I know is I never want this to stop.

  “If you don’t want—”

  “Shut up,” I say and bring one hand down to his chest. I twist the material of his shirt in my fist and put my lips to his. Heat rushes over me, and feeling the same fervor, Archer cups my face in his hand and kisses me. His tongue slips past my lips, and he tips my chin up, the gesture more intimate than anything.

  I melt against him, hand falling from his chest to his waist, and my fingers curl around his belt. I fumble with the buckle and Archer breaks the kiss, stepping back only so I can undo it. I pull the leather from the buckle, heart hammering as I flick my eyes down, watching the belt fall free from the loops on his pants. I drop the belt onto the floor and grab the hem of his shirt, untucking it.

  It’s like Archer can’t wait any longer, and he advances, kissing me in a fury and sliding his hands down my body. He squeezes my ass and pulls me to him. His hard cock presses against me, and I arch my back to press my pelvis into him.

  Enveloping me in his arms, he gathers the material of my dress in his hand, bringing it up over my ass. He moves his lips from mine to my neck, and I run my hand over his muscular chest, trailing my fingers along the buttons on his shirt, along the waistband of his pants, and over his cock.

 

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