Just Say Yes (15 page)

Quinn's face seemed to fall a bit at Tim's lighthearted comment. “Because,” she said, seeming to realize she needed to elaborate, “those are just gross, that's why.”

“This coming from someone who eats bacon and jelly together.”

“That's different. I don't like to see the whole animal when I eat it. I'd rather pretend it didn't have a life before it entered my mouth. It's easier that way. And don't act like you're too good for bacon and jelly. Even
you
said it was good.”

They both laughed as the waiter returned with their entrees: eggplant caramelle for Quinn and Tim's cowboy ribeye. “If you don't mind cutting into your steak, sir, to make sure it's cooked properly.” He gestured toward Tim's plate.

Tim sliced through the center carefully and looked at the deep pink color. “Perfect. Thank you.”

The waiter nodded in acceptance. “Is there anything else I can get for the two of you at the moment?”

Tim looked to Quinn, who smiled at the waiter and let him know they were fine for now. When he left, Quinn took a bite of her pasta and let out a sound that he'd heard come out of her only during sex. It made his dick jump in response.

“How's your pasta?” Tim asked, a smirk on his face that he didn't even try to hide.

“So good,” she answered, drawing out the words and closing her eyes as she chewed and continued to make little moans of enjoyment. “You have to try this,” she said, finally putting an end to the noises he'd been enjoying so much.

“Don't stop,” he said as he rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I bet you could give Meg Ryan a run for her money.” He finally took a bite off the fork Quinn had been holding out for him and looked to the elderly couple a few tables away. “It's probably the most action those two have seen in a few decades,” he said after swallowing the bite.

Quinn's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, stop. I don't even think I could fake an orgasm if I tried.”

“Well,” he replied, raising his eyebrows, “lucky for you, you don't have to. What do you say we take dessert to go and find out how
not
fake those orgasms can be?”

Tim wondered if Quinn was conscious of the fact that she ran her tongue along her bottom lip. It made him want her tongue somewhere else.

“I say that sounds like a good plan.”

•   •   •

Quinn wouldn't have been surprised if she'd left a wet spot on the seat of Tim's truck. Well, that may have been an exaggeration, but not much of one. Just sitting across from Tim at dinner had been a turn-on. Combine that with the mention of leaving the restaurant early and Tim's fingers circling her inner thigh as he drove, and she'd been nearly ready to explode.

Finally they made it to Quinn's apartment. Quinn unlocked the door and stepped inside, enjoying the feel of Tim's hand on the small of her back. She walked slowly toward the kitchen, not wanting to break the contact. Pulling open the refrigerator, she placed the crème brûlée inside.

“Now, how am I supposed to lick that off of you if it's in there?” Tim's low voice asked from behind her.

Quinn wasn't sure if Tim was serious, though she hoped he was. The idea of getting all sticky from sugar and Tim's tongue made another rush of warm wetness seep out of her.

Tim reached into the fridge and removed the foil container she'd just placed inside. “No one takes crème brûlée to go.” He paused, turning to face her. “Unless, of course, they plan to eat it immediately.”

Oh, he
is
serious.

Then his hand drifted to her hip to press her against the edge of the granite countertop. When he released her, she didn't move a muscle. She watched him as he made a show of lifting every metal ridge of the round container slowly, spinning it in his hands as his stare seemed to set fire to her body. Finally he popped the lid off and tossed it aside. Then he dipped a finger into the smooth dessert and put it to Quinn's lips, waiting for her to open. When she slid her mouth around his finger, he let out a low groan, and she could only imagine he was wishing another part of his anatomy was inside her mouth instead.

He repeated the action, this time bringing his finger to his own mouth. “Tastes so sweet,” he said, his voice raspy with desire. “Though not as sweet as you.”

Quinn swallowed hard and released the large breath she'd just taken. Tim seemed to catch it when his mouth enveloped hers in a deep kiss, the barbell and his tongue working expertly against hers. And as his kiss moved from passive to demanding, she realized Tim kissed like he lived his life: with practiced balance. Sometimes Quinn felt him become more aggressive—biting her lips, gripping the back of her neck to pull her so close that her skin became red against his stubble. But other times he was gentle, moving slowly, allowing the kiss to develop at its own pace, or even letting Quinn take the lead. And she loved that about him—how he could be so assertive, so bold, and then give over control so easily.

Quinn hadn't even noticed Tim had put the dessert down on the counter until one of his hands skated under her dress and the other slid down the zipper. With his help, she shimmied out of it, letting it drop to the tile. She could feel his erection pressing against her lower abdomen, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap her hand around him. But when she made a move toward the button of his dark gray pants, Tim gripped her wrist firmly and placed her hand gently on the edge of the counter. “Uh-uh. This is about you.”

Thankfully though, Tim did remove his shirt, letting Quinn's eyes devour every muscle and every color on his skin. Again he reached into the crème brûlée and then traced a cool, sugary trail down her neck and between her breasts, ending at the top of her thong.

Quinn didn't even have to guess what Tim had planned next. His tongue followed the path he'd just made for himself, deviating from it only to give her breasts adequate attention. He sucked hard on her nipples, pressing them between his fingers, licking every inch of sensitive flesh until he returned to his original route.

By the time his tongue had cleaned every bit of dessert from her, Tim had dropped to his knees—his mouth just above the area she wanted it most. If Quinn thought that sight was arousing, it had nothing on when Tim finally looked up at her, locking his gaze with hers as he slid her panties down her legs, brushing her skin softly with his fingertips. Everything about the man was sexy—the way the dim light accented the hints of copper in his unruly hair, how his strong hands wrapped around her calves one by one as he removed her heels and underwear.

But nothing—Quinn thought for an instant before her mind was incapable thinking altogether—was sexier than seeing Tim's face settle between her legs as he kissed, licked, and stroked her toward what she was sure would be nothing short of a mind-blowing orgasm, especially with the barbell working just as magically as his tongue was.

He knew exactly what she loved without having to ask. He knew she loved his fingers plunging deep, hitting that spot inside her that made her knees feel like they could give out at any moment. And he knew she loved it when he swirled his piercing around her clit, flicking it every so often until she felt like she couldn't wait any longer. But Tim also knew her body, knew that no matter how badly she desperately chased the release, she loved the journey toward it almost as much.

Then, just like every other time she'd been with Tim, the moment she felt it couldn't possibly feel any better, it did. She felt herself tense uncontrollably, every muscle in her body clenching as the waves of her climax pulsed through her. Tim's hands and tongue slowed gradually until they ceased their movements completely and all that was left between them were the sticky remnants of their encounter.

Tim stood, bringing his face up to meet hers. And Quinn kissed him, needing to taste the combination of the two of them on his tongue, a salty sweetness she could never get enough of. But finally she pulled away. “I think it's your turn,” she said as she palmed his straining cock through his pants and gripped hard.

“Mmm,” he growled against her throat. “I think I'd like that.”

•   •   •

Tim inhaled a shaky breath as Quinn's soft tongue gently moved over his ear and traced his jawline on the way to his lips. She'd already been palming his dick through his pants for long enough. He was certain it had been only a few minutes, but the feel of her stroking him through the fabric was nearly unbearable. Tim massaged the back of her neck, pulling her to him for an aggressive kiss. “I need this mouth on me now,” he rasped.

He felt her smile against his lips. “Bossy tonight, aren't we?”

Tim wasn't sure whether to respond or to let it go, but when he felt Quinn tug on his pants, he decided to let his hands do the talking. His fingers pulled on Quinn's nipples, which were still hard against his skin. He fucking loved them. How they were just the right shade of pink when she was turned on, how they jutted out perfectly in his hands, how she moaned every time he swirled a tongue or a finger around them.

And when Quinn's warm palm slid over his cock, it was fucking sensory overload. His head lolled back for a moment as she rubbed her hand over his hard length. But his gaze returned quickly to her as she kept her eyes trained on his.

Then she did the sexiest thing he'd ever seen any woman do. She slipped her finger over the precome that was already pooling heavily on his tip, brought her finger up to her mouth slowly, and fucking licked it. She let her teeth drag gently over her nail on the way out of her mouth. He'd never wanted to be a finger so badly in his entire life. “You keep doing shit that hot and I may never let you leave this apartment.”

“Well, in that case,” Quinn said, lowering her voice to just above a whisper as she slid down his body like it was a damn stripper pole.
Holy fuck.
Quinn still had her fingers wrapped tightly around him, but she loosened her grip and slid her hand further toward his base to make room for her mouth. And the feeling made Tim groan. Her movements began as slow licks and gentle pulls of her lips against his tip as he entered her mouth over and over again.

Quinn's hand worked up and down his shaft, which was soaked from her mouth. He'd been doing his best to hold off the climax he knew was only moments away, but he didn't know how much longer he could wait. “Jesus, Quinn,” he rasped as he tried to resist plunging deep into her throat. “I can't wait much longer.” He began to push gently on her shoulder, a sign he hoped would let her know how close he was. Though she'd done it once, he didn't want to assume he could come in her mouth anytime he wanted to.

But his gesture was met with Quinn's greedy mouth taking as much of him as she could handle. And when he felt the head of his cock touch the back of her throat, he nearly lost it. The feeling of his orgasm barreling down his spine felt almost as good as the orgasm itself would, and he wanted the sensation to last. He held off for as long as he could, groaning hard as Quinn's nails dug into the meat of his ass as she pulled him further inside her mouth.

Finally the wet warmth of her tongue swirling around his cock brought him to the edge, and he couldn't help but fall over it. Gripping Quinn's head, his fingers tangling in her hair, he came with a low exhalation of relief. He felt himself empty into Quinn's mouth, and the feeling of her swallowing against his shaft only prolonged his pleasure. “Come here, you,” he said softly, bringing her up to meet his gaze. “I'm not done with you yet.”

Quinn licked her lips and locked her arms around his waist. “Who said anything about being done?”

The corners of Tim's mouth crept into a slow smile before he quickly swept Quinn up and threw her over his shoulder. She let out a playful squeal when he smacked her ass on the way to the bedroom. He was one lucky son of a bitch. And he planned to show her just how lucky he felt.

Scald

“My parents want to meet you.”

Quinn's statement made Tim's hand cease its light caress of her shoulder. They were lying on the couch, Quinn's head resting on his chest as he gently stroked her arm. Her words instantly made him tense, though he tried to mask it. He began to leisurely drift his hands over her exposed skin again in an effort to deflect his initial reaction.

“You have any thoughts on that?” Quinn needled.

Shit.
In his attempt to regain control of his physical reaction, he'd forgotten that words were also required. “Umm, okay, I guess?”
Jesus, why am I so awkward?

He felt Quinn smile against his bare chest. “Aww, is my big, strong Tim nervous?”

“Quiet, you,” he replied, skating his hand down to poke her in the ribs. He laughed at her squeal, but that didn't stop the truth from burdening his mind. He
was
nervous. Tim didn't think he was meet-the-parents material. Sure, her friends had accepted his new place in Quinn's life, and Scott had been fucking thrilled. But her
parents
? What would they think of him? The past few weeks with Quinn made him want to forget about his inadequacy. How unlikely it was that he would ever be good enough for her. He'd never been in a relationship that had reached this point before. So he hadn't the slightest idea how to impress a girl's parents.
My own parents didn't even want anything to do with me. How am I going to win over someone else's?

The thought made his entire body begin to overheat. His mind was quickly spiraling, and he was helpless to stop it. Even if things went well, Tim would never have to introduce Quinn to his mother. She'd never experience even a fraction of the nerves he was feeling because she'd never have to prove to anyone that she deserved him. Tim tapped Quinn's shoulder. “Let me up, babe. I need some water.”

Quinn wordlessly sat up, never taking her eyes off the silly chick flick she'd conned him into watching. Retreating to the kitchen where he could try to get ahold of himself, he pulled open the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting off the cap and downing nearly the entire thing. As he braced his hands on the counter, he bent slightly at the waist, letting his hands support his weight. He focused on his breathing, willing himself to calm down. He had just begun to feel settled when slender arms slid around his waist, a sexy body pushing against his back.

“You okay?” Quinn rested her cheek against him.

He stood straighter, reaching down and entwining his fingers with hers. “Yeah, I'm good.”

“Is it too soon to meet my parents? Did I freak you out?”

Tim turned and drew Quinn into his arms, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead as he silently cursed himself for making her feel insecure. “No. I mean, I'm a little freaked-out, but not because it's too soon.”

“Then why?”

Tim blew out a breath. “I guess it's just latent insecurity. Something I probably would have gotten over in high school had I not spent the duration of it high off my ass. I never had to deal with a girlfriend's parents. And I have absolutely no idea how to convince them that I'm good enough for you. Especially since I'm pretty sure I'm not.”

Quinn pulled back a little so she could look up into his eyes. When she narrowed them at him, he knew he was fucked. “You're about as intelligent as a high school boy too.”

Tim couldn't help smirking at her gibe. “And what exactly does that mean?”

“It means you're a moron.”

Tim barked out a laugh. “Well, no one will ever accuse you of mincing words.”

“I'm a writer. I know the importance of saying what I mean.”

They stared at each other for a beat, getting lost in each other like they so often did. Quinn tightened her arms around his waist. “Do you think I'm stupid?” she asked quietly.

Tim felt his eyes widen. “What? No. Why would you ask that?”

“Do you trust my judgment?”

“Of course.”

“Then why the hell would you think that you're not good enough for me? Do you really think I would waste my time on a man who wasn't worth it?”

Tim rolled his neck. “Quinn—”

“Don't give me that. I want you to listen. Really hear me, Tim. Every time you say stuff like that, which you do more often than you probably realize, you're questioning my judgment. You're basically telling me that I'm not smart enough to know what's best for me. I'm not a child. I know what I want . . . what I need. And that's you. So stop doubting me.” She paused, biting her lower lip, as if she clearly had more to add but was still deciding if she was actually going to voice it. Taking a deep breath, she seemed to make up her mind. “Stop doubting
yourself
,” she added quietly.

Tim didn't know what to say to that. He'd never thought about his self-deprecating feelings in those terms before. If someone as intelligent as Quinn wanted him, maybe he
did
have something to offer. Suddenly a thought occurred to him, and it set his entire body at ease. “I'll go and meet your parents. But there's something I want you to do for me first.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to meet someone important to me too.”

Quinn hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest. “I'd love to.”

•   •   •

Tim ushered Quinn into the Iron Rose and made his way to the hostess desk. “Hi. Jacobs, party of three.”

“Yes. The other member of your party is already here. Right this way.”

She led them through the trendy restaurant toward a booth against the far wall. Roger stood when he noticed them approaching. Tim put his hand in Roger's extended one and allowed himself to be pulled into a one-armed hug.

“How ya doing?” Roger asked as he released Tim.

“Pretty good. How about you? You look like you lost some weight, old man,” Tim joked as he pretended to land a soft jab to Roger's ribs. Tim didn't wait for Roger to respond before wrapping an arm around Quinn and tucking her to him. “Roger, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Quinn. Quinn, this is my sponsor and good friend, Roger.”

“It's a pleasure.” Roger smiled and held his hand out to Quinn, who immediately took it.

“Great to meet you, Roger. I've heard a lot about you.”

Tim tried to shake the sudden wave of guilt that hit him. The truth was that he'd barely told Quinn anything about Roger other than the basic information. Despite how big a role Roger had in his life, Tim had been hesitant to divulge all of that to Quinn. Granted, she already knew about his sordid past, but he didn't want to remind her of it by blabbing on about his sponsor and how dire Tim's life had been before he'd met him.

“Uh-oh.” Roger laughed as he motioned for them to sit.

Tim looked at Roger, tilting his head slightly. He'd been teasing when he'd said Roger had lost weight, but it was true. He also looked . . . odd. His coloring looked off somehow. Tim shook his head, chalking it up to the dim lighting. “You been here before?”

“Does this look like the type of place I'd frequent?” Roger taunted as he took a sip of his water.

Tim watched the movement, noticing the slight tremble in Roger's hand.
Something is definitely up with him. Is he nervous about meeting Quinn?
“You chose the place. I figured you'd choose somewhere you liked.”

“I was more interested in choosing somewhere Quinn would like.” Roger smiled kindly at Quinn, who returned the smile.

They fell into easy conversation from there, speaking of families, work, and trying to find common interests, which there were more of than Tim would have expected.

“Siena, Italy, is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen in my life. The Piazza del Campo is one of my favorite places on earth,” Quinn gushed. “I've always been a sucker for a place with history. Its Gothic architecture and medieval city made me feel like I'd been transported back in time to the twelfth century. Breathtaking. I can't wait to go back one day.”

“I don't blame you. Ever been there for the Palio?” Roger asked as he bit into his dessert.

“Yes! It was incredible.”

“Okay, what the hell are you two talking about?”

“It's a medieval horse race held twice a year in the town center. You can stand right along the track. It's amazing.”

Tim looked wide-eyed over at Roger. “Who knew you were so cultured?”

Roger waved a hand at him. “Trust me, boy. I've been a lot of places in this world. Not all of 'em good, but most of 'em memorable.”

Tim let his eyes linger on Roger, knowing his words spoke of things beyond tourist destinations.

“If you guys will excuse me a second, I'm going to run to the restroom,” Quinn said, bringing Tim's attention back to the table.

Both men half stood as she rose from the table. “Such gentlemen,” she joked as she walked away.

They were barely reseated before Roger spoke. “I like her.”

“I do too.”

“And more importantly, I like who you are when you're with her.”

Tim rested his forearms on the table and leaned on them. “And who am I?”

“Someone comfortable in his own skin.” Roger's reply was immediate, but his words made Tim focus on another issue that had been bothering him all night.

“Speaking of that, are you okay?”

Roger cleared his throat and reached for his water. “Yeah. Why?”

“Don't take this the wrong way, Rog, but you don't look so good.”

Roger set his water down and glanced quickly at Tim, then just as quickly diverted his eyes. “I had a nasty virus that turned into a small bout of pneumonia. I'm on the mend now. It just ran me down a little.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “Why didn't you call me?”

“What are you, my mother?” Roger was smiling, but it was tight. Uncomfortable.

“Don't be an ass,” Tim replied with a laugh.

“You deserve it, you know?”

Roger's words startled Tim out of his reverie. “Deserve what?”

“To be happy.” Roger leaned forward and fixed a gaze on Tim that wasn't only serious but was also swirling with emotion Tim had never before seen from the stoic man. Things seemed to pass between them that neither of them had ever expressed. All the gratitude Tim had for Roger. All the pride Roger had for Tim. It all came out in that one silent moment across the table. Then Roger glanced over Tim's head and straightened his posture. But not before whispering a low “Don't blow it” at him.

“What'd I miss?” Quinn asked as she sat back down between them.

Tim looked briefly at Roger, nodding his head slightly, letting Roger know that he'd gotten the message. Then he slid his arm around the back of Quinn's chair. “Not much. Just bullshitting.”

They wrapped up dessert and, for once, didn't fight over the check. Roger grabbed it, and though Tim offered to pay, he didn't argue with Roger when he insisted. Walking out of the restaurant and into the thick night air, they stopped to say their good-byes.

“It was great to meet you,” Quinn said as she gave Roger a friendly hug.

He hesitated briefly before putting his arms around her and returning the embrace. Tim stepped up to him next, hugging him just as Quinn had. “Take care of yourself,” he whispered into Roger's ear.

“Don't worry about me. You just keep working on you.”

Tim went to pull back, but Roger's arms remained around him, halting his movement. “You're a good man, Tim. One of the best I've ever known. Don't ever doubt it.” As soon as his words were spoken, Roger dropped his arms and pulled away. He looked at Quinn, a smile rising to his face, then back to Tim. “I'll be seein' ya.” And with that, Roger turned and walked down the street, hands in his pockets, whistling happily.

Quinn slid an arm around Tim's waist. “I like him.”

Tim smiled in reply as he continued to watch Roger walk away, the weight of the moment heavy for reasons Tim couldn't identify.

“Thank you. For introducing me to him. I know how important he is to you.”

Tim finally turned his head to look down at the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. “And now that two of the most important people in my life have met, it's time for me to meet some of your important people.”