Gray Quinn's Baby

‘Us?’

Quinn’s lips curved. Who knew what he was thinking? The only thing she could be sure about was the way she felt about Quinn.

He gave a dry laugh. ‘Do you really think I’m going to mark you out of ten and take that score forward from the bedroom to the office? Your job’s safe, Magenta; the company needs you. And, whatever happens between us, I’d be a fool not to consider what your colleagues have to offer. Reassured?’ Quinn demanded. ‘You should relax more and worry less.’

That might be possible if she had any useful experience in the bedroom department. ‘I won’t be any good.’

‘You’re going to be very good,’ Quinn argued. ‘I’m going to make sure of it.’

Quinn’s lips were firm and tempting and the expression in his eyes reassured her. She wanted everything he had to give her, starting with tenderness, Magenta decided as Quinn nuzzled her neck. No—starting with fun, she amended when he pulled back to smile his sexy, curving smile. No. That was wrong too. She wanted to feel safe like this, to feel the strength of a man as he lifted her in his arms.

Oh, to hell with it—she wanted sex with a man who knew what he was doing, Magenta conceded as Quinn carried her up the stairs.

Quinn’s bedroom was huge, warm and cosy, and was both neat and scrupulously clean. The scent of sandalwood hung in the air and the decor was tasteful—shades of cream, honey and chocolate—the perfect frame for Quinn, who kissed her firmly, skilfully, deeply. He lowered her onto linen sheets without pausing one instant. ‘Where did you learn to kiss like that?’ she demanded, smiling as she marvelled at his strength combined with such subtlety.

‘They produce some great self-help manuals these days.’

This was some dream, Magenta thought, laughing with him; she was going to enjoy every minute if it. Reaching up, she started on Quinn’s buttons. Pushing the shirt from his shoulders, she paused a moment to drink him in and wonder what she had done to deserve a dream like this. Quinn’s torso was lightly tanned and heavily muscled. He was magnificent—perfect. If she could bottle this dream and sell it on the open market, she could save her company back in the real world without any help from anyone.

‘You’re so beautiful.’ And she was so greedy for him. She tugged Quinn’s shirt from his waistband to feast her eyes on his belly, banded with muscle. All men should be like this, and if women ruled the world they would be.

Kicking off his shoes, Quinn joined her on the bed. Stretching out his length against her, he ran his fingers lightly down her arms.

Could anything else feel this good? But when Quinn dipped his head to kiss her she pressed her hands against his chest and made him wait. ‘Not yet. I want to look at you; I want to touch you—explore you.’ She was finding strength she’d never known she had and, luckily for her, Quinn was willing to indulge her.

She smiled as he tucked his arms behind his head. Inhibitions? Quinn had none. And if Magenta was ever to lose her own hang-ups it was here with this man, and it was now.

She knelt over him, brushing his naked chest with her hair. ‘Stay where you are,’ she commanded softly when he made to move. Trailing her fingers across his chest, and down over that hard band of muscle to the waistband of his jeans, she teased Quinn as he had teased her. Hearing his shuddering breaths aroused her even more.

‘And now it’s my turn.’

She gasped as Quinn swung her beneath him.

‘Trust me,’ he said, seeing her apprehension.

The bond between them was growing, Magenta realised, and she did trust him. She groaned as Quinn caressed her. He was so intuitive; his hands knew everything about her body and sensation was already throbbing between her thighs.

‘Is this your first time?’

She turned her face away from him. ‘No.’

‘Convince me,’ Quinn demanded.

‘I am worried.’

‘About what?’ he said. Cupping her chin, he made her look at him.

‘I might have healed up…’

He laughed; they both laughed.

‘You’re frightened I might hurt you?’

I’m more frightened of the way you make me feel, Magenta thought. ‘Not that—but I am frightened of losing control. I’m frightened of the sensation that builds inside me each time you touch me. I’m frightened of falling over the edge and never coming back. I’m frightened of experiencing something I can’t begin to cope with.’

‘Can you be more specific?’

‘This is going to sound so stupid to you.’

‘Try me,’ Quinn suggested wryly.

‘I have never—’ She swallowed and started again in a firmer voice. ‘I have never…’