She let that settle, taking Quinn’s left hand, which had balled into a fist, and teasing his fingers open until they threaded with hers. “I know you loved him. I know he was your best friend. I can’t imagine how horrible all of this is for you. But it’s not hard to see why the police believe he was somehow involved with drugs.”
Despair seeped, thick and dark, into Quinn’s chest. “Aye.”
“I won’t give up, Quinn. I won’t give up on him—or you.” She stood and took the tumbler from his right hand then set it on the coffee table and drew him to his feet.
“I should go.” He reached for the tumbler.
She caught his hand. “Why?”
“I’m no’ fit company tonight.”
“You want to drink. I know. You want to forget, to make yourself go numb. You’ve done that before. Will it fix anything?”
“I’ll sleep.”
“I know how to make you sleep.” She took a step back and started to undress.
Quinn’s pulse skipped, his brain going blank.
She unzipped her jeans, pushed them over the curve of her hips and down her slender legs. Next, she pulled her blouse over her head and dropped it on the floor. Then she unclasped her bra, those beautiful breasts springing free.
Blood rushed to Quinn’s cock. “Are you offerin’ yourself to me?”
She answered by taking his hand, leading him to her bed, and helping him strip. “Lie down.”
Heart thrumming, he did as she asked, watching as she crawled onto the bed and straddled his hips.
Her hands slid up his body from his obliques to his abs to his pecs, her mouth following, spreading fiery little kisses across his belly and chest, lavishing affection on each and every scar. He rested his hands on her hips, let her have her way with him, his cock aching to see how turned on she got touching and tasting him.
Her gaze met his. “I want you.”
“I’m all yours.”
She took his cock and guided him inside her.
It was like going home, her tight little quim closing around him like a fist, wet and hot. He held himself still, let her set the pace, reaching down to stroke her clit with one hand, palming a lush breast with the other, her nipple pebbled and hard.
“Yes.” Her eyes were closed now, her head tilted back, her nails digging into his pecs, her hips grinding against him.
Sexual need drummed through Quinn like a pulse, making it hard for him to hold still. She was beautiful, so beautiful. Lilibet, his Lilibet. She was the answer to every question he’d ever had. He wanted her, needed her, wasn’t sure how he’d go back to a life without her, not when being inside her felt so right.
She came with a cry, her inner muscles clenching around him, driving him out of his mind. When her peak had passed, he clasped her hips and drove himself into her, hard and fast, riding her from beneath, climax rushing through him as sweet as salvation, bliss shaking him apart.
She sank against him, her head tucked beneath his chin, his cock still inside her. “I’ve got you, Quinn. I won’t let go.”
Her words hit a tender place inside him, unleashing emotions he didn’t understand. He wrapped his arms around her, held onto her as the two of them drifted into sleep.
11
Elizabeth stood at the railing, looking out over the Bearsden bathhouse, the sunshine warm on her face. “It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that this is almost two thousand years old.”
“Och, well, we’ve got standin’ stones that are older than this.” Quinn stood beside her, one hand resting against her lower back, making Elizabeth feel protected and turned on all at once.
Then again, she couldn’t look at Quinn now without feeling aroused. In a single day, he’d gone from the sexy friend she’d fantasized about to the man who’d given her the best sex of her life. She knew how it felt to have his cock inside her. She knew the feel of his skin. She knew his taste. They’d been friends-with-benefits for only twenty-four hours, and already she was addicted to him.
She ought to be terrified, but she wasn’t. For some reason, she trusted Quinn. She trusted him in a way she hadn’t trusted a man since Jason.
“Standing stones? I’ve always wanted to see standing stones.”