Hot to the Touch

Was this really happening?

“Room service.” The call came muffled through the door.

Room service? They hadn’t ordered any.

“Right here.” Quinn strode over, out of sight of the bed.

Marie heard the door open, heard a murmured conversation. The door closed.

“We ordered room service?”

He reappeared, pushing a cart with champagne in an ice bucket and a plate with a domed top. In his other hand, a neat little case, which she assumed held their toiletries for the night.

“Champagne and some smoked salmon?”

“Quinn.” She shook her head, letting him see in her eyes how pleased and happy she was. “You seriously spoil me.”

“I’ve been wanting to for a long time, but you’re very hard to spoil.”

Marie frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever objected. And what makes you think I’m sadistic?”

He dropped his pants, crawled toward her on the bed. “Every time I’ve tried to hint at my feelings for you, you’ve balked. I summoned all my nerve and finally kissed you after Dream Dance and you acted as if—”

“Quinn.” She took his face in her hands, his beautiful, unbelievable George Clooney face, and kissed his mouth. “You told me I reminded you of your sister.”

“You do. She’s beautiful, strong, intelligent, funny as hell and sexy.”

“And so…” She looked at him in mock horror. “You’re hot for her?”

“No.” He scrunched up his face in disgust. “Of course not.”

“See?”

“Yeah, and I remind you of your brother, remember?” He toppled her back on the mattress, covered her body again with his. “This brother you’ve never told me anything about. What’s he like, immature and annoying?”

She giggled. “He’s a complete blank.”

“Oh, thanks.” He pretended deep hurt. “That’s just great.”

Marie drew her finger down his beautiful cheek, thinking of how often she’d wanted permission to touch him like this, hardly daring to believe she had it now. “I don’t have a brother, Quinn.”

“Then why did you—” He rolled his eyes. “Sadism. I told you.”

“Self-protection, not sadism. What about this man you were going to match me up with?”

“Oh, that.” He gave a smug smile. “That was me.”

“You!” She gave a shout of laughter. “You’re kidding. Talk about sadism.”

He kissed her mouth, traveled down into the curve of her neck. “And the problem I’d invested a lot of emotion and hope in and wasn’t sure it would work out?”

“Me also?”

“You also.” He returned to her lips, kissed them over and over. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, still not daring to believe this was happening.

“We’ve wasted a long time protecting ourselves from each other,” he murmured.

“When neither of us was sadistic after all.”

“Neither of us.” He nudged her legs apart, settled between them, erection pressing firmly against her sex, lighting her fire all over again. “Marie, I tested clean after my wife cheated, and have used condoms with every woman since. I don’t want to use one with you, but I will if you’d feel more comfortable.”

“I tested clean after my husband cheated, too.” She lowered her eyes. “There’s been no one else.”

“I put nothing out there but my body, Marie.” He moved up and down, rubbing her still sensitive clitoris with the hard heat of his penis. “Until I met you I didn’t think anyone could touch my heart again.”

“Yes.” Hers swelled with happiness. She knew exactly what he meant. “I felt the same way after my marriage fell apart. It takes time to get over that kind of pain.”

“We won’t waste any more,” he whispered.

“No.” She kissed him, welcomed him into her body, into her life, into her heart and remembered what she’d promised herself she’d do tonight. “Quinn…I love you.”

He stiffened. Stopped moving. She held her breath until his body continued its delicious slide inside her. “From the second or third time we met at Roots I knew I was on my way to falling in love with you, too, Marie. Since then it’s only gotten stronger, week after week. I’ve wanted to hear you say that for so long.”