About Last Night

Mia! I wanted to yell. My name is Mia!

Playing with the stitching on my comforter, I admitted, “It was great. I started a new job today.”

I heard rustling on the other line, as if Quinn got comfortable to listen to me. “Really? That’s cool. Tell me about it.”

And, smiling, I did. For the next hour, I had a real conversation with Matt Quinn. It was everything I hoped it would be…and that scared the crap out of me.

Chapter Thirteen

Quinn

When Maya called, I was stunned. Well, more like pleasantly surprised. I had been avoiding her since my night with Belinda, which was not her fault. It was mine. Using Maya’s name when with a client hadn’t been planned, but while it was happening, I enjoyed it. After it was over, I felt dirty.

If only she knew. She wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.

Her soft voice held a high amount of amusement in it when she explained her day’s adventures. “…and then this gorgeous blonde comes barging into the office so hard I thought the door would fly off the hinges, and she lays into him…right in front of me!”

Eyes wide, I muttered, “No way.”

I could almost see the expression on her non-existent face. “Yes! But wait, it gets more awkward.”

I groaned and rubbed my hand down my face. “This can’t be real. You’re making this up.”

She burst into laughter and yelled through it, “I swear it’s true! I swear on your giant mangina!”

Scowling, I grabbed my cock through my jeans, mentally telling it to block its ears. “Hey, now! We talked about this. I do not want that word associated with my penis. He’s sensitive.”

When her laughter gentled to a mild chuckle, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Quinn. But I really do love that word. Anyways, so she leaves and my boss explains that was his ex-wife, and the reason he had to take the bus was because she got his cars as part of the divorce settlement. So then I asked why she hates him so much and…”

I choked on a laugh. “Why would you even ask that?”

Maya smothered down a giggle. “God, I don’t even know. I’m socially awkward. You should know this, so I’ll tell you…I don’t really have a filter. But that’s beside the point! He answered me.”

This girl was killing me. “Oh, man, you’re a socially awkward woman who asks inappropriate questions, and your bus-taking boss is an over-sharer. Geez. You’re a match made in heaven.”

“I know, right?” She gentled her voice to a whisper, as if she was telling me a secret. “He told me he cheated on her!”

“What. The. Fuck?” That was all I could manage. Where the hell was Maya working to have this much drama on day one?

Sounding excited and pleased with her story-telling abilities, she stated a happy, “I know!” Then she sighed contently. “I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.”

I smiled with affection, even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re adorable.”

She paused a moment, and I thought she would end the call, but instead she replied with, “You don’t know that. I could be a total troll.”

I nodded. “You could, but I don’t think you are. Are you?” Yes, I was digging for more information on this unknown woman who had occupied my mind for the last week. I needed to know more.

Her smile came through in her teasing voice. “I guess you’ll find out on Sunday. Please excuse the big, hairy wart on my nose. I’m seeing a specialist about it.”

I grinned. “That’s okay. I can shave it for you. You know? If that’s your thing.”

She chuckled then added in a husky voice, “Ooh, stop it. You’re turning me on.”

My brow creased. I was curious, and that was never a good thing. I told myself the question I was about to ask was purely for professional reasons. That Maya would be my client, and in order to do my job, I needed the facts.

I was lying to myself.

“What turns you on, Maya?” I heard her squeak, and mentally scolded myself for being so blunt. Before she could say goodbye and hang up, I went on, “Listen, this is just us talking, remember? We’re friends, aren’t we? If it helps, I can tell you what turns me on?”

I was hoping that would work.

I was right. It did.

In a small, anxious voice, she uttered slowly, “O-okay. A question for a question, right? You tell me and I’ll tell you.”

Yeah, that’s right. Come to Papa.

Sitting up against the headboard of my bed, I cleared my throat and started, “Okay, good.” Then I thought hard. “Let’s see. Well, I really love watching a woman eat. Especially if it’s something sweet.”

Sounding breathless, she waited for me to continue, but I simply smirked. She asked a hushed, “What else?”

Gotcha.

I shook my head and tsked. “No. That’s not how this works. What if I tell you all I’ve got then you decide you don’t want to tell me anything? For insurance sake, I ask that we reveal one thing at a time.” She made a growling noise and I tried to hide my laughter, but was doing a pretty crappy job of it. “C’mon, Maya. Let me in. Give me a damn inch, woman!”

She sighed and I could her the frustration in her voice. My heart panged at how real that frustration sounded. “You’re just going to make fun of me.”

I sobered in an instant. “Really? You think I’d do that?”

Then she just sounded sad. “No. But you’ll be thinking about it.”

Something about this girl had me wanting to protect her, and it sparked something inside of me I’d never experienced before. “I don’t know who made you feel like this or why, but I swe

ar to God, if you told me who they were, I’d track down every single one of those assholes and feed them my fist.”

O-kay…‘cause that wasn’t creepy or anything.

Her silence told me she thought my passionate statement was as weird as I thought it was. But then she spoke. “Wow. That was probably the nicest empty threat anyone has ever made for me.”

I wanted to tell her the threat wasn’t empty, but instead rubbed the back of my heating neck as I muttered a partially embarrassed, “Yeah, well, I’m a little protective of my friends.”

She coughed then blurted out, “I really like watching a man’s throat work when he drinks. Especially if he’s really thirsty.”

My brows rose. Who knew something so simple could be a turn on for a woman? In order to keep our conversation moving along, I told her, “I love the dimples on a woman’s lower back. You know? Just above the butt? Love ‘em.”

She admitted, “I love a man’s smile. Not the fake ones to be pleasant with company, but the real ones that come after they’ve laughed hard.”

I smiled then. A real one. “I love when a woman wears white underwear.”

As if she’d said it without thinking, she muttered a husky, “I’m wearing white underwear.” Then she added a mortified, groaned, “Oh, tell me I didn’t just say that, Quinn.” I took that as permission to laugh. She uttered, “See? Can’t take me anywhere.”

I shushed her then ordered, “Don’t think you’ll distract me with your feminine wiles. Save your sex sorcery for our meeting, wench. C’mon, give me another one.”

She puffed out a breath. “Yeah, yeah.” Then she paused a moment, taking a second before responding quietly, “You know that thing you have? That trail of hair from your belly button to your…um…yeah.” She whispered, “I really like that.”

That pleased me a whole fucking lot. I looked down at the evident bulge in my jeans. I needed to calm the fuck down. I barely choked out, “Good. That’s good. I think we’ve made progress today, Maya. You did good.”