“What can I say?” I brace my hand on the roof of the car and lean down so we’re face to face. “I like fast cars.”
An impish smile curves her lips, and she wiggles her brows. “And fast women?”
I shake my head, but it’s impossible not to meet her smile with one of my own when she’s being so…Quinn. “You’ve got a one-track mind, you know that?”
She shrugs, the strap of her tank top falling off her shoulder. “What can I say? I’m a woman who knows what she wants.”
“From where I’m standing, you look like a woman who’s enjoyed one AMF too many.” I hook a finger in the wayward strap and slide it back into place. Because I’m a fucking saint now. “Which is why I need to get you into bed.”
Quinn giggles, and I immediately realize my mistake.
Dumbass.
“Why, yes, Cooper. I would love to take you to bed.” She winks at me. “You don’t even need to buy me a drink first.”
I grit my teeth, searching for the words to get this conversation—hell, this night—back on track.
“I’m kidding.” She rolls her eyes. “I swear, you should see your face right now. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were the blushing virgin here.”
Christ. If she had any idea what kind of filthy thoughts were running through my head, she’d run the other way.
Rule number two. Rule number two. Rule number two.
Maybe if you say it enough, it’ll penetrate your thick skull.
Not likely. Not when Quinn looks like temptation come to life with flushed cheeks and the kind of smile that has me thinking shit I have no business thinking.
I close her door and take my sweet ass time walking around to the driver’s side. There’s a gentle breeze and even the humid night air is a welcome relief after the stifling dancefloor.
Who am I kidding? It wasn’t the club that had me sweating, but Quinn’s firm ass pressed against my cock, rocking in that slow, seductive rhythm.
A rhythm I definitely shouldnothave enjoyed.
But for fuck’s sake, I’m only human. There’s no denying she’s got a great body. And that mouth…
I don’t let myself finish the thought. It’s not like this little fantasy will go anywhere, so why torture myself?
Shrugging off all thoughts of Quinn, sex, and the release I clearly need after today’s game, I open the driver’s door and slide in behind the wheel.
“Where to?” I dart a glance at the fiery redhead curled up in the passenger seat.
“Wildcat Ave.” She flashes me a drowsy smile. “Number fifty-two.”
We ride in silence, and when I pull into Quinn’s driveway ten minutes later, I realize the lack of chatter is because she’s sound asleep next to me. No surprise there. She’s tiny. The AMF alone would have been enough to put her on her ass, and who knows what else she had to drink tonight.
“Fucking Mike,” I grumble, climbing out of the car. If I ever see that kid again…
You’ll what? Put your fist through his face?
Like father, like son.
The prospect is disturbing enough to dissolve my anger. I jog around to Quinn’s side, open the door, and release her seatbelt.
She stirs and grumbles, “Just five more minutes.”
“Not happening, sweetheart.” I grin even though she can’t see it. “Unless this is a ploy to get me to carry you upstairs.”
Her eyelids fly open and she straightens, suddenly wide awake. “Don’t even think about it.”
