Quinn
The next week starts off with a bang, all because of a particularly high-powered client who can’t be bothered to settle his bill.
My brothers and I try to avoid doing business with men like him who think that their status is payment enough. Over the years, we’ve become more selective when it comes to our clients, precisely for reasons like this. But even despite our best efforts to weed out the stingy pricks, every once in a while one of them worms his way into our system. In those cases, we’re forced to track him down and remind him that the pretty little thing on his arm is only there because he’s paying her, and by paying her, I mean paying us.
When I suggest that we stay late one night to put an end to this issue, the two of them exchange a look.
“Can’t,” Cooper says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Corinne’s making lasagna tonight. It’s one of our traditions.”
I groan and roll my eyes before turning to Gavin. “What’s your excuse?”
“No mushy traditions.” Gavin shrugs. “I just want to fuck my wife, and she’s less in the mood when I get home late.”
I shake my head. “Fine. Let’s take a problem that could be solved in one night and drag it out for the rest of the week. Great plan, douchebags.”
But not even my sarcasm can pop the bubble of happiness both my brothers are in because of their marriages. Those little fuckers. Gavin and Emma are coming up on their second anniversary, and Cooper and Corinne are newlyweds, but things have changed so much already.
Cooper, Gavin, and I spend the next few days playing phone tag and negotiating with the client. In the old days, we would have been able to knock it all out in one night, but Cooper and Gavin are both so happily married, they choose to drag the process out a few days just so they can go home to their wives each night at a decent time and revel in their wedded bliss.
I’m happy for the assholes, but marriage has definitely made them soft.
• • •
By Thursday, I realize that the sting of jealousy I feel toward my brothers has everything to do with Alessandra. We’ve only been on a single date, but I can already tell there’s something different about her.
Hell, the fact that we went on a date at all is evidence enough that she’s special. I’ve had plenty of experience with women, but those escapades rarely ever made it out of the bedroom. It’s not that I don’t want to do those same things to Alessandra-you can’t imagine the things I’ve fantasized about doing to her-but no matter how powerful my desire is for her, I can’t silence the small voice in the back of my head telling me I’m in serious danger of falling.
That’s why I’m determined to take it slow with this girl. Or, at least, slower than I would normally take it.
Sitting at my desk, I hear a gentle knock on my office door. Six p. m. on the dot, right on time. I stand up to open the door, but I’m immediately stopped by a strange feeling in my stomach.
Were those butterflies? Jesus, Quinn, get your shit together.
I take a deep breath and stretch out my neck. For as excited as I am to spend more time with Alessandra, I’m not too pleased with the effect she’s having on me.
When I open the door to my office, it takes everything in me not to immediately sweep her into my arms and place a kiss on her lips. She’s intoxicating. Her dark hair is piled loosely on top of her head, and a few stray curls perfectly frame her face. She looks up at me with cautious-yet-playful eyes, obviously waiting for me to invite her in.
“Benevenuto.” I smile, stepping aside and ushering her in.
As Alessandra walks past me, I can’t help but take in every inch of her nubile body, the way her perfect ass fills out her dark blue jeans. She even smells amazing, somewhat floral and sweet. She sets her bag in one of the chairs by my desk and stands by the windows, just like she did the first day she came here.
I close the door behind me and take a moment before joining her. As I take in the full sight of her, my cock twitching in approval, I rack my brain for the small bit of Italian I’ve been practicing all week for this very moment.
“Tu mi toglie il fiato,” I say, closing the distance between us. You take my breath away.
Alessandra turns and smiles at me, her eyes wide and playful. “Grazie mille,” she replies, sizing me up. “You’ve been practicing.”
“You make me want to practice,” I say, my voice low and serious.
The smile fades from her face and she arches a single perfect brow. “Do I make you want to do anything else?” she asks, taking a step closer so our faces are only inches apart.
Holy fuck.
Without speaking, I wrap her slender frame in my arms, crushing my mouth against hers in a hungry, searching kiss. After a moment’s hesitation, Alessandra responds by pressing her hips into me and moving her tongue in rhythm with mine. It’s beyond perfect.
We continue kissing, our hands moving over each other’s bodies, until Alessandra suddenly pulls back and looks at me with wide, concerned eyes.
“Should we be kissing in your office?” she asks, looking nervously over her shoulder. “I just realized I know nothing about office etiquette, and I really don’t like the idea of you getting in trouble because I’m too horny to keep my tongue in my own mouth while I tutor you.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, she grimaces, obviously embarrassed by what she just said.
I chuckle softly, trying not to make her feel any worse, even though she has no reason to be embarrassed. She has no idea how adorable she is. Or how fucking sexy it is to hear the word horny come out of her mouth.
I pull her back into me and place a hand on her cheek. “Alessandra,” I whisper, running my thumb over her jaw, “you’re forgetting one very important thing. I’m the boss around here. You’d have to do many worse things with your tongue for either of us to get in trouble.”