In the past, with any other woman, alarms would have been screeching in his head by now, and he’d be calculating the most expedient way to escape. But Sarah belonged right where she was, and when she stirred and let out a sweet little sigh, he stripped off his underwear and slid between the sheets, his front to her back.
He gathered her in his arms, all warmth and silk, and she hummed, “You’re finally back.” She wrapped one arm around his. With the other, she reached behind and started playing with his hair, sending little shock waves racing along his spine, straight to his aching cock.
“Miss me?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yeah, I missed you.” Her voice was dozy and cute, and it touched something deep in his chest.
He kissed her shoulder. “I missed you too.” And he meant it.
She rolled over, her soft breasts squashed against his chest, and sealed his mouth with hers. With long, slow slides of their tongues, the kisses grew deeper, then messier as hands glided and explored and skin blazed against skin. His last lucid thought was of the yearning to climb inside her and never let go. He’d cut away his anchor, and the slim tether of control he’d clung to his entire adult life had gone with it. In that moment, he was lost. He might drown, washed away in a sea of Sarah, and he didn’t care.
Sarah drifted out of a sleepy fog and blinked. On her back, she scanned the dim room to get her bearings—as if the overgrown koala bear wrapped around her wouldn’t have been reminder enough. Quinn’s head was on her chest, his heavy arm and heavier leg pinning her in place. Steady breathing—and the weight of his head—told her he was asleep.
She pointed her toes—the only part she could move for being trapped—stretching, triggering soreness in parts that hadn’t been exercised for a long while. It felt wonderful.
His hair tickled her chin, but trying to nudge him off her was as futile as trying to break free from a determined boa constrictor. He gripped her like his own personal body pillow.
What time is it?
A quick glance at a shuttered window brought a surprise. Was that daylight leaking through? Oh shit! Is Liz up? Where’s Archer?
As if in answer, a soft scratching sounded on Quinn’s door, followed by a whimper. Shoving at Quinn’s arm, she bucked in panic. He shifted with an “Mmph,” only to double down on his hold. She blew out an exasperated breath.
“Quinn!” she hissed. “Let me up!”
He rubbed his head against her chest as if he were trying to adjust said body pillow. Ooh, that feels kinda good. As she was admonishing herself for getting distracted, he raised his head, planted his chin, and gave her a sleepy smile. “You’re still here,” he mumbled. His hands began gliding up her sides, each one targeting a breast.
“Of course I am. Someone’s got his Death Star tractor beam locked on me, and I can’t escape.”
His eyes opened fully, and he slid off of her. “Shit. Sorry. My bad.”
A pang of remorse jabbed her. “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just that it’s morning, and Archer’s on the other side of the door trying to get in.”
Realization seemed to dawn, and his eyes grew wide. “Oh shit! Mom can’t be far behind.”
If last night had been all deep, velvet sensuality, this morning was its antithesis. Sarah scrambled from one side of the bed, Quinn mirroring her movements, and both of them frantically snatched at clothes, tossing them between each other in a scene straight out of an old slapstick movie.
“You stay here,” he whisper-shouted as he dragged on his boxers and a pair of jeans he pulled from his closet floor. “I’ll take care of Archer.” He began hopping in place to get his second leg in.
Panties on, she wrangled with the bra clasp at her back. She engaged one hook and called it good before pulling on her torn dress and getting it stuck on her head. Quinn was beside her, yanking the garment over her shoulders.
“Quinnie?” Liz’s voice floated from behind his door. “You awake, son?”
He and Sarah came to a grinding halt, exchanging round-eyed looks. “Oh shit!” they mouthed at the same time.
“Almost, Mom,” he called back.
Now came Liz’s muffled chuckle. “It’s nearly eight. I guess that’s why Archer’s trying to wake you up. I’m not sure where Sarah is, but I’ll go look for her.”
“Uh,” he yelled, “I think she was going for a run this morning. I’ll take care of him.”
“Odd that she’d run without him.”
He buttoned his jeans, grabbed a T-shirt from a dresser drawer, and winked at Sarah. “‘Odd’ sounds just like Sarah, Mom.”
Sarah returned her best glittering glare. He stepped over to her and planted a kiss on her mouth that fired up her insides and left her nearly speechless.
“I’ll make up an excuse and keep her distracted so you can get back to your room,” he whispered. “Then change your clothes and get your cute little ass to the kitchen. Act like you just finished a run or got out of bed. Piece of cake.”
She stifled a laugh. “Depends on whose cake!”
After dodging her way back to her room like a curfew-breaking teen trying not to get caught, Sarah took a quick shower. Much as she hated to wash away Quinn’s scent, she didn’t need Archer—or Liz—sniffing it off of her.
Rather than her usual ratty pair of sweats and a sloppy T-shirt, Sarah pulled on a pair of butt-hugging jeans, topped with a red tank that read, “Blink If You Want Me.”
Heart pounding relentlessly against her ribcage, she faked a casual air and sauntered into the
