She’d been asleep when her phone had buzzed. She’d seen it was an alert from the security camera in Quinn’s room and had been halfway out of bed when he’d suddenly appeared, buck naked, on her screen. He’d vanished into the bathroom to take a shower and had emerged ten minutes later, his hair wet, his body gloriously exposed. She knew it was almost exactly ten minutes later because she’d stared at her screen the entire time.
She’d finally tipped him off—but not before she’d gotten a very good look.
You’re terrible, Shields.
But, dear Lord, who could blame her?
Elizabeth had seen her share of naked men, but she’d never seen a man who looked like Quinn. His butt didn’t bounce, it shifted, twin globes of moving muscle. His abs ended in the beautiful V of his obliques, her favorite muscle on a man.
And his cock…
He hadn’t even had an erection.
She squirmed, the ache between her thighs making her wish she’d brought her vibrator. She never traveled with it for fear that some customs agent would think it was an explosive and pull it out of her luggage with the Cobra guys there.
She ought to apologize to Quinn, but what would she say?
Sorry I didn’t tip you off sooner, but I couldn’t quit staring at your dick.
That didn’t carry quite the professional tone she hoped to convey.
She laid back on her pillows, reached down between her thighs, and touched herself, her mind mingling the sight of Quinn’s naked body with yesterday’s catastrophic, wonderful, amazing kiss. She let herself imagine him sliding, hard and thick, inside her, his big body moving over hers, deep thrusts carrying her higher and high—
A buzz on her phone.
Have you had breakfast?
Damn it, Quinn.
Give me 10 minutes.
She tried to go back to her fantasy, but couldn’t, not knowing she had to be done and dressed in ten minutes. “Hell.”
With a moan, she threw off the covers and marched into the bathroom, the unsatisfied ache between her thighs leaving her grumpy. She took a quick shower, brushed her teeth, and put on makeup. Then she stomped back into the bedroom to dress, choosing a peasant blouse and a pair of faded jeans.
By the time her ten minutes were up, she was ready to go—and frustrated as hell.
She met Quinn in the hallway, her irritation growing at the clean, fresh scent of his skin. Seriously, could he be any more attractive?
“Did ye sleep well?”
“No.” She set off for the elevator.
“I’m sorry to hear it. Are you ready for another full Scottish?”
She pushed the elevator call button. “No, thanks. I’ll stick with toast or yogurt.”
“Are you angry wi’ me?”
She didn’t dare meet his gaze, or he’d see guilt written all over her. “No.”
“Aye, you are. I’m sorry. I forgot about the camera.”
“It’s okay, Quinn. I know you didn’t flash me on purpose. Besides, I’m thirty-three. Yours isnotthe first penis I’ve seen.”
The elevator car arrived. Elizabeth hoped it would be full of people so that this conversation would end. No such luck.
“Then why are you so upset? I can see it on your face. You’re ready to explode.”