Wild Cowboy Nights (Foolproof Love 1-3)

“Yeah, I would.”

“He’d take you somewhere fancy, but not too fancy.” He unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, and slid the zipper down. “One of those trendy fucking hipster places with Asian fusion food.”

She gasped when he slipped his hand into her panties. “I’m surprised you even know what Asian fusion is.”

“I’m a cowboy. That doesn’t mean I don’t pay attention.” He groaned when he found her soaked. “He’d make polite conversation—nothing too titillating—and order you some fancy-ass wine selection.” He pushed a finger into her, stroking her as much as he could with her jeans restricting his movement.

“I happen to like wine.”

He knew that. Quinn palmed her, pushing a second finger into her. He worked her, watching her lips part and her breathing pick up. She was so fucking responsive it didn’t take much to get her to the edge. “And at the end of the night…” He stroked her clit the way he’d learned she liked it, circling and then thrusting into her and then circling, again and again. “At the end of the night he’d drive you home and kiss you politely before leaving you on your doorstep. Every single fucking thing about that night would be polite.”

Aubry’s back arched, and he knew he had her. Quinn picked up his pace, just slightly, lowering his head to rasp in her ear. “You don’t want polite. You want a hot fuck in the shower, on the bed, in the cab of my truck. You want me to finger you like this, and you want to get off on the fact that there isn’t a damn thing between us and anyone who walks down that hall. Hell, I bet if I slid down your jeans, you’d turn around and let me fuck you right here.” She clenched around him and she buried her face in his shoulder as she came, her moans barely muffled. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Holy shit.”

He turned in time to see none other than Kurt standing in the hallway, his gaze fastened onto the spot where Quinn’s hand was buried in Aubry’s jeans. He stepped forward, putting himself between them. “Get lost, kid.”

“No, wait.” She disentangled herself from him and buttoned up her pants, shooting him a look that would send a weaker man to his knees.

It just pissed Quinn the fuck off. He put a hand on the wall, blocking her from Kurt with his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Free country.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Actually—” Kurt broke off at his glare.

He focused back on Aubry. “We’re not finished.”

“I’m pretty sure we already had this conversation.” She ducked under his arm but then seemed to think better of it. “Sorry this is so awkward, Kurt. But I’m, ah, I’m taking the stairs.” She turned around, dodged around Quinn, and disappeared up the stairs, leaving him staring at Kurt like an asshole.

There was nothing to say. He couldn’t warn the other guy off because Aubry was right—she wasn’t his. They weren’t even technically hooking up right now because she’d called the whole damn thing off. He made an effort to unclench his fists and reclaim some of the happy-go-lucky attitude he was usually so good at, but he failed miserably at both. “She’s not interested. Get lost.”

“Yeah. No problem.” Kurt backed away as if facing off with a grizzly. He nearly tripped over his feet as he hurried around the corner and, if the sound of his footsteps pounding on the ground were any indication, he started sprinting the second he was out of sight.

Quinn headed up the stairs, determined to talk some sense into Aubry. The fire between them wasn’t anywhere near burned out and she damn well knew that shit. Maybe she couldn’t do sex without emotional attachments, but they could be friends who had sex.

He was reaching and he knew it, but he didn’t give a fuck.

It turned out, he didn’t have to go far to find his fiery redhead. Aubry sat on the top stair, three floors up, her head between her knees. As soon as he caught sight of her, he rushed up the remaining stairs to crouch before her. “What’s wrong?”

“So. Many. Stairs.”

He bit back a laugh. “We’re on the fourth floor.”

“I know.” She raised her head. “I overestimated my cardio skills. Turns out, I have no cardio skills. DDR did not prepare me for eleventy billion stairs.”

“I see.” He adopted as serious an expression as he could manage. “Would you like me to carry you?”

For a second, it looked like she was actually considering it, but she ultimately shook her head. “How am I going to escape the zombies if I don’t have sweet cardio skills? This is something I’m going to have to work on. I can’t rely on a trusty steed to be in my vicinity at every hour of every day.”