Just Say Yes (12 page)

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Things with Tim were weird because of how
not
weird they were. The guy had seen her naked, for Christ's sake, and Tim was playing it off with a nonchalance that would've rivaled a priest hearing confession. And quite frankly, Quinn had had enough.

Being sketched had meant something to her. Having Tim present during it had meant even more, and she was done pretending that it hadn't. Quinn wasn't much of a take-the-bull-by-the-horns kind of girl, but since her heavily tattooed, reformed bad-boy accomplice clearly wasn't going to bring up the proverbial elephant in the room, she'd have to.
What's the worst that can happen?

Quinn immediately wished she could retract that thought, but the damage was done. Doubt began to creep in as she really considered what the worst would be: him being horrified at the thought of dating her, him laughing at the absurdity, him deciding that they shouldn't hang out anymore.

The mere thought of losing Tim was enough to make tears form in Quinn's eyes. Was it wise to risk losing the best thing in her life? Quinn let her hand rest on the keys she'd just put in her ignition as she contemplated an answer. And finally, she had one. An incontestable one.

Yes, it's worth it.

She quickly grabbed her cell phone and typed out a text to Tim.
You busy tomorrow night? I wanted to talk to you about something.

His reply, as usual, was almost immediate:
Oh boy. Sounds like I'm in trouble. But sure. You wanna come to my place? I'll cook us dinner. How's 6:30?

Quinn paused briefly before starting her car, wondering if it was smart to have their discussion in a place he could so easily throw her out of, but she quickly determined that it ultimately didn't matter.
Sounds perfect.

•   •   •

Cutting vegetables normally soothed Tim. There was nothing like chopping the shit out of something to settle his nerves. But it wasn't working. He was hacking at the carrots and lettuce like they had gravely offended him, and he didn't feel a damn bit of relief at exacting his revenge. He dumped the veggies into a mixing bowl and started cutting the apples to add to the salad.

What the hell was I thinking inviting her to my apartment?
It wasn't that Quinn had never been to his place, but she sure as hell hadn't been there since he'd seen her naked. Since he'd become able to meld his fantasies with the reality of Quinn's flawless body. How the fuck was he going to keep himself from throwing their dinner off his dining room table and feasting on Quinn instead? His dick perked up as he thought about the soft curves of her breasts and her smooth skin, and he quickly glanced at the clock on his oven, wondering if he had time for a cold shower before she arrived. It was six twenty-three.
Definitely not enough time.
And the rap on the door only served to confirm it.

Tim took a deep breath before walking over to the door and pulling it open. He barely contained his groan of frustration. How was he supposed to resist her if she insisted on wearing cute little yellow summer dresses? Her hair was an unruly mass of curls, framing her sun-kissed face.
I'm totally screwed.

It took Tim a few seconds to realize that he was silently staring at her. She narrowed her eyes slightly, suddenly looking wary. “You okay?”

He shook his head and stepped back from the doorway so she could enter. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I was, uh, just thinking that I may have forgotten an ingredient for dinner.”

“Oh.” Tim saw her smile falter as her eyes drifted briefly toward the floor, but he didn't have time to analyze it. “You need me to run out and grab something?”

“No, no, it's fine. I can work around it.”
Stop saying things twice, asshole.
Tim closed the door and walked back to the kitchen, Quinn close behind him. He resumed his post at the counter, continuing to prep for dinner.

“What are we having?” Quinn asked as she stood closely beside him, turning her body so that she pressed gently against his arm.

Tim's eyes rolled around in his head at the feeling of her firm breasts pushed against him.
I'm going to lose my fucking mind tonight.
“Lasagna. That okay?”

She pulled back, and he instantly missed her. “Sounds good. I love lasagna.”

“Good,” he replied. “I picked up some sparkling water. Want some?”

“Absolutely.”

Tim wiped his hands on a dish towel and walked over to the cabinet to retrieve two glasses. He handed Quinn one after pouring her some water. He watched her bring the glass to her rosy lips, then part them slightly as she allowed the liquid to slide over them. When she swallowed, his knees nearly buckled. His eyes darted up to hers, and he realized that she'd caught him watching her. It was sexy as hell yet scary as fuck. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Good?”

“Delicious.”

Her response was seductively low, and Tim had to turn away from her in order to keep himself from grabbing her by the back of the neck and pulling her to him. “So, you wanted to talk to me?”
Please be about something innocuous. Like laundry or puppies.

Quinn stayed standing behind him, not touching but still close. He heard her put her glass down on the counter. “Yeah, I did. Will called me.”

So much for laundry and puppies.
Tim felt himself tense and tried to force himself to relax. “Oh yeah?”

“He wants to go out again.”

Tim was in serious danger of snapping the handle of the knife he was holding. It was one thing to know he couldn't have Quinn, but it was quite another to know he'd basically pushed her toward someone else. And she expected him to, what?
Encourage
her to date guys she wasn't interested in, when it drove him crazy to even see her talk to someone else? It didn't matter to him that Quinn would have no way of knowing how he felt. He knew he wasn't being particularly rational. What he was was angry. Angry at her for asking him to rip his own heart out. It didn't matter that Will was probably better for her. It didn't matter that Tim refused to throw his own hat in the ring for her. He'd be damned if he'd sit around and help some other asshole get the only thing he'd ever truly let himself want. Tim felt himself unraveling and he couldn't stop it. The prospect of another man getting close to her, touching her, being touched
by
her made him feel murderous. Tim closed his eyes and begged his body to get back under control. He couldn't let Quinn see the emotions that were warring within him. She'd run from him screaming, and he wouldn't blame her for an instant. So he managed to talk himself down enough to reply. “I thought you didn't like him.”

“I don't. So I'm thinking maybe I should broaden my horizons. I mean, isn't that what this whole thing is all about? Stepping out of my comfort zone, being assertive, going after what I want . . . what feels right.”

Her words cut through the haze he found himself in, though she sounded far away, like his ears weren't able to clearly interpret her words while his brain was gearing up to implode.

And now he was even more angry at her, but for a very different reason. “You're going to become one of those girls who bounces from guy to guy until they find what they're looking for? Sounds like a great plan.” Tim couldn't have kept the sarcasm from his voice if he'd tried, which he didn't. His words were cold and mean, but that was how he was feeling, and he had no idea how to mask it.

But if his remarks fazed Quinn, she didn't show it. “I didn't say anything about going after more than one guy. Quite the opposite, actually. I've had my eye on one in particular.”

She let those words hang there, gave them time to seep into Tim and fill him. Finally, she spoke again. “So what do you think?”

“About what?” Tim's voice was rough, raspy.

“About going after the guy I want. You think I should?” She stepped toward him, her body lightly touching his.

Her voice was soft, almost pleading. He closed his eyes, but he still saw her question for what it was.
She's opening the door for you. Now you just need to decide if you can walk through it.
Tim had faced a lot of crossroads in his life, and he wasn't going to bullshit himself by saying that his choice with Quinn was the hardest or the most important, but goddamn, it felt that way. The choices he'd made in the past had all been largely because of other people: He'd started using drugs to not feel the pain of letting down his mother; he'd gotten clean so that he could have a healthy relationship with his brother; he'd gotten his life together so the people he cared about wouldn't be embarrassed by him. But the choice he faced in that kitchen was all about him. Did he want to be happy even though it might not last, or did he want to be lonely but at least find some solace in the fact that Quinn would probably be better off without him? She was giving the decision to him. And he found it grossly unfair. He ground his teeth together before finally forcing his mouth to open. “Yes.”

She pressed into him a little more. “Why?”

He set the knife down and turned toward her. “I think you know why.”

“I need to hear it.” Her blue eyes were wide and hopeful as they searched his.

“Because I want you too. Because I feel good about myself when you're around. Because I'm a selfish bastard who's not good enough for you, but I can't walk away from you either. And the thought of someone else putting his hands on
my
girl is enough to make me want to break everything in this apartment.”

Tim knew his face was probably wild and intense, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out how Quinn could be looking at him with a smirk.

But that was exactly what she did. “Your girl, huh?” She let her hands drift over his chest and wrap around his neck.

Tim let his own hands find her hips and slide around her back, drawing her more tightly to him. “Is that the only part you heard?”

“No, but it's definitely the part I'd like to focus on right now.” And then she lifted up onto her tiptoes as she applied pressure to his neck, pulling him to her. “That okay with you?” she said against his lips.

But she didn't give him time to answer. Her kiss was soft, sweet, and soothing. For about three seconds. Then all of the heat and passion that they had both allowed to simmer just below the surface burst forth, and the kiss became downright carnal. And as their hands began to roam wildly over each other and they clutched at each other in an attempt to get closer, Quinn asked, “What about dinner?”

“Fuck dinner,” Tim murmured as he sucked on the soft skin of her neck.

Quinn giggled breathily. “A man of few words. I like it.”

“I like you,” he countered.

“I like you too.” She started to walk backward out of the kitchen. “You coming?” Quinn sauntered out of his kitchen and toward Tim's bedroom, and any remaining pretenses that he could walk away from her evaporated. He was a rogue planet who needed her gravity to keep him in orbit. And as he followed her into his room, he wanted nothing more.

Boil

Quinn had been feeling pretty damn full of herself in the kitchen. But once she got into the bedroom and kicked off her sandals, she faltered for a second, chewing on her bottom lip as she looked at his large masculine bed: dark wood with a dark slate comforter. It was so
not
comforting.
I'm about to have sex with Tim. On a bed that screams Christian Grey, if for no other reason than because it's gray.
Quinn was spiraling into a nonsensical state of self-deficiency. Tim was nearly eight years older than she was—a seasoned pro compared to her. What if she didn't live up to his other experiences? What if he wasn't into it? What if . . . ?

“Whatever you're thinking about right now, stop it. Unless it's that you don't want to do this, in which case we'll go back out there and have dinner.” Tim came up behind her and brought his hands up to her shoulders, sweeping her hair over one in the process so he could place gentle kisses on the back of her neck.

Quinn immediately relaxed into his touch. This was Tim. He'd opened a whole new world for her without ever once making her feel inadequate. She'd been a fool to think he ever would. “I definitely do
not
want dinner.”

“Then tell me what you do want.” His lips ghosted over her skin as he spoke.

“I—I want . . .”
God, how am I supposed to think when he's kissing me like that?
She forced her mind to work through the sexual fog he was blanketing her in. “I want to be with you. In every way two people can be together. But I think—no, I know that I want you to lead. Show me what you like. Show me how good it can be.” It wasn't that Quinn hadn't had good sex before. She had, by her standards. But she was also convinced that sex with Tim would blow any previous encounter right out of the fucking water. She wasn't interested in timid first times. She wanted epic right off the bat. And Quinn knew Tim would deliver.

“Every way, huh? That almost sounds like a challenge.”

“It is. You think you're up for it?”

At that, Tim ground his erection against her ass. An erotic moan left her as he said, “Oh, I'm up for it.” He let her feel his hard-on through the denim of his jeans for only a moment longer before he pulled away, walked around her, and flopped down onto his side on the bed. “Strip for me, Quinn.”

Quinn felt her face heat as she looked down at herself.

“Hey.” Tim's voice was soft as it drew her attention back to him. “I have been reliving your nude modeling for the past week. But see, that's a memory I have to share with all those other people. Not this time. This time is just for me.”

His words emboldened her. It was just for him—it had been just for him then too, if she were being honest with herself. His were the only eyes she had cared about in that entire room. But in his apartment, with just the two of them, it was different. She couldn't claim that it was for the article, or about finding herself. In Tim's room, with only the soft pallor of the descending sun illuminating them, she was fucking found. So she reached under her arm and drew down the zipper that was hiding there, letting the dress fall to her feet. Her white satin bra fell next. And finally, with her eyes trained on Tim the entire time, she lowered her matching thong. Quinn stood before him, summoning a confidence she knew had been hiding in her somewhere, and watched as his eyes raked over her body. His gaze was all lust and need. And something else . . . reverence maybe? Like he had every intention of worshipping her body as though it were a temple. The thought made her stand up even straighter.

Tim rubbed his cock through his pants as he took in the sight of her. But just before she felt the slightest tinge of self-consciousness, he stood and walked back toward her. His hands came and cupped her jaw. “You're perfect,” he whispered right before he pulled her lips to his. The kiss was intense as they spilled all of their wants into it.

Quinn basked in the feeling of Tim's tongue against hers, his piercing turning her on even more than she already was.
He got that for me. And now I get to be the one who enjoys it.
Her hands skated down his chest to his stomach, where she yanked his shirt up and slid her hands beneath it. Her fingers adored his runner's body, the ridges of his hardened abdominals. He broke away from her lips long enough to pull the shirt over his head, and she took full advantage, moving up to feel his slender but muscular chest. Finally, when she felt like she was being a cocktease to herself, her hands landed on his belt, quickly unfastening it and pushing it out of the way so she could pop the button on his jeans and drag the zipper down.

He thrust his tongue harder, more passionately into her mouth as she pushed the pants and boxers off his narrow hips, letting gravity take care of the rest. She looked down at the cock she'd dreamed about since she'd first met him. It was long, not so thick that she thought it would hurt, but just enough that she knew she'd feel every ridge as it slid into her.

“Touch me, Quinn.” His command was firm, yet the harshness of his breathing made it almost a plea.

And since she wanted nothing more, she enveloped the silky steel with her hand and caressed it from root to tip, trying to memorize it as if it were braille and could tell her all of life's secrets. Tim let out a harsh groan, and Quinn reveled in the fact that she was the cause of it.

“I've wanted you since the first time I ever laid eyes on you.” Tim's tongue skated over every bit of skin he could reach as he spoke. “You touching me . . . it's making me lose what little control I had to start with. I want our first time to be slow, special, but I don't know if I can do that.”

“We've taken it slow for long enough. You say you want me. Show me.”

And with that, Tim's hands flew to her thighs and lifted her into the air. Though surprised, she immediately wrapped her legs around him, letting his cock nestle against the area she needed him the most.

He kept her suspended for a few seconds, allowing her to grind against him like the wanton woman it felt so good to be. Then he sank a knee onto the bed and held her tightly as they crashed the rest of the way down onto it. He kissed her deeply, dirtily, as he allowed his straining cock to slide against her clit, his precome mixing with her own wetness. The attention he lavished upon that throbbing part of her anatomy was mind-blowing. And he gave no inclination that he intended to stop anytime soon.

Quinn moaned loudly into his mouth. She clutched at his back with her fingernails as her body started to tense in preparation for her impending orgasm.

“Mmm,” he breathed against her neck. “Mark me, Quinn. I want to wear the proof of what I did to you for days. I want to look at my back and know that I made you come so hard, you had to hold on for dear life.”

And that was it. There was no way she could hold off an orgasm with him talking like that. So she gave herself over to it. Let him feel the rippling nerves of her body as they radiated pleasure while she clawed at his back.

“I can't wait to be inside of you. To feel you milk me as I make you come again.”

“What the hell are you waiting for?” Quinn asked breathlessly as she came down from her release. Well, as much as she could come down, considering he was still gyrating against her.

“Fuck if I know.” And with that, he leaned over her slightly so he could reach the bedside table. He searched for a few beats before finally withdrawing from the drawer with a condom. He ripped the foil package open and rolled the condom onto himself.

Then he ran his hands down Quinn's bent legs until he reached her apex. He pushed a finger inside her, causing her to arch off the bed in bliss. But he didn't finger her long, instead bringing the digit up to his mouth and licking her arousal off of it. “You're so wet for me, Quinn. So ready.”

Quinn could barely manage a nod by that point. Though if he didn't get inside of her soon, she knew she'd be able to scrounge up enough courage to flip their positions and take what she so desperately needed.

But he didn't make her wait any longer. He positioned his cock at her entrance, and after a brief meeting of their eyes, pushed into her to the hilt, making her moan out in euphoria.

Tim fell forward, his hands landing on either side of her head as he thrust into her. “I can't . . . Fuck, Quinn, I can't go slow. It's too good. You feel too goddamn good.”

She slid a hand behind his neck and pulled him toward her. “I already told you—I don't want slow.” Then she pulled him into a hard kiss. He seemed to get the message, because he let go, pistoning his hips against her, driving his swollen cock deeper than she thought possible. It was everything she'd hoped it would be and more. She began to feel the tingling sensation of an imminent orgasm again, and she beckoned it, craving the release like it would take away every care she had in the world. Hell, maybe it would.

Tim's rhythm became erratic as Quinn surmised he was also nearing the finish line. She looked up at him. And though most of her attention was focused elsewhere, she couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was. Even though she was sure he'd prefer a term like “ruggedly handsome,” there was no mistaking it. Tim Jacobs
was
beautiful. Inside and out.

As if he could hear her thoughts, his eyes drifted from where he entered her up to meet her gaze. And in that moment, Quinn knew the truth: Tim was a complete game changer. Things would never, ever be the same. She would forever be chasing that moment, and he would be the only one who would ever be able to give it to her.

That was the realization that took her over the edge the second time. And she did just as he asked, tightening around his cock as he pumped into her, chasing his own release. He stilled as he caught it, bellowing out an elongated “Fuuuuck.” Then he collapsed onto his elbows, still keeping the majority of his weight off of her, but pressing her into the mattress just enough for her to feel the warmth of him. He buried his face in her neck as they tried to catch their breaths. Once their chests were rising and falling in a more normal pattern, Tim pushed up a little and looked down at her breasts. “Damn, I didn't even get to play with these,” he lamented as he pressed a chaste kiss to one.

Quinn smiled. “There's always tomorrow.”

Tim smiled back, but there was a wariness to it. In that look, she was able to see the boy he'd once been. “Does that mean you're staying?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Unless you want me to leave.”

He huffed out a small laugh. “I hate when you leave.” And, as if it was too much to admit and maintain eye contact, he lowered his lips to hers and captured them in a sweet kiss that lingered longer than such a gentle one normally would. Not that either of them was complaining. “I'll be right back,” he murmured before getting up and heading out of the room, she assumed to go to the bathroom. He was back a couple minutes later, crawling into bed beside her, tucking his arm underneath her so she could rest her head on his chest. “It's still pretty early. You want me to finish dinner?”

“Hmm. That would mean we'd have to get out of bed, wouldn't it?”

He pulled her closer to him. “Unfortunately, yes.”

She let out a dramatic sigh. “I'm just not sure I can agree to anything that involves you putting clothes on.”

“I said we'd have to get out of bed. I said nothing about putting clothes back on. In fact, I may never let you wear clothes again.”

“That would cause quite a stir at the office.”

They both laughed, and then Tim gave a light slap to the side of her ass cheek. “Come on, get up and let me feed you. You're going to need your energy for what I have planned.”

“Oh really? And just what would that be?”

Tim simply shrugged as he pulled Quinn up from the bed. “I show better than I tell.”

Quinn had no doubt his words were the utter truth.

•   •   •

Tim woke up the next morning with a familiar warm, slender body entangled with his. He momentarily thought he'd died and gone to heaven. He even repressed the urge to pinch himself, mostly because he was afraid he'd wake Quinn. And as she snuggled tightly into his side, resting her head on his shoulder, the last thing he wanted was for her to wake up. It was one of those moments he wished he could freeze and live in for a while. He'd had so few perfect moments in his life; he wanted to savor it.

So he stayed put, allowing his mind to relive the previous night. He had been worried that sex would make their relationship awkward, but as they'd sat at his dining room table eating salad and lasagna, they'd conversed as they always had. Well, maybe with a little additional flirting. And afterward, once Tim had made good on his promise for a round of show-and-tell, they'd curled up together like they'd been sleeping that way for years.
Maybe I
am
dead.

As he lay beside Quinn, he developed big plans for breakfast, and he needed to get started before she'd have to leave so she could get ready for work. So eventually Tim decided that he should get up.

He kept the banging around to a minimum as he flew around his kitchen. He'd hoped to surprise Quinn in bed, but just as he was transferring the bacon to a plate, he saw her.

Je-sus Christ. If I'm not dead, she'll kill me soon enough.
Quinn was in the doorway of the kitchen, one hip resting against the wall, wearing nothing but the sheet from his bed. He knew he was staring at her—like creepy, obsessed, stalker staring—but he couldn't help it. There were simply no words.

“Whatcha making, chef?”

Making? What is she . . . Oh, the food!
“Breakfast.”

Quinn's face contorted slightly as she tried, and failed, to suppress a smile. “Well, I can see that. Anything specific?”

Tim blinked hard and refocused himself.
This is Quinn. A woman you have spent countless hours with during the past month. Stop acting like a middle schooler who just landed his first girlfriend.
“You'll see,” he replied casually as he resumed cooking.