Her fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans, and when she unzipped his fly and grabbed his cock, Luke made a sound that was half pleasure, half relief. He turned Quinn away from him and pressed his groin into her back while he pulled up her shirt. He smoothed his hands up her curves, his palms finding her breast. He gave them a gentle squeeze, a rumble escaping his chest when she made mewling noises of pleasure.
Luke dipped one hand down the front of Quinn’s pants, stretching until the tips of his fingers brushed the lush vee of curls. She bent at the waist, her ass rubbing against his thighs. He moaned and reached down further, slipped his middle finger past her slick folds and massaged her clit. Quinn made more noises of pleasure as she wiggled herself against him. Luke’s cock, free of his jeans now, was captured between Quinn’s ample backside and his own abdomen.
“You’re so beautiful, Quinn.” Luke kissed the back of her neck, his tongue trailing a glistening line on his skin. “I can’t help but want to kiss you, to touch you, to make you mine.”
“Yes,” she said, her skin fevered with lust. “I want that. I want you.”
“Boss,” Marigold said. “Your still on coms.”
“Oh, shit.” Luke yanked the bud from his ear, but Quinn was already grabbing her shirt from the floor. “Quinn, don’t.”
“I…I don’t know what got into me.”
A few more seconds and it would have been me, he thought grumpily.
Quinn shook her head. “It’s so unfair to you. I’m so sorry, Luke. So sorry.”
After she fled the room. Luke slumped against a nearby shelve, the weight of him caused shaking, and a glass container of beets smashed at his feet. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
