No Strings Attached

by Jiffy Kate

  “Did you fall back asleep on me?” Quinn asks.

  “No, definitely not. I was just thinking about Christmas. I bet it’s fun having a kid to buy for.”

  She sighs, contentedly. “It is. It’s kind of magical… seeing things through his eyes. Henry makes everything fun.”

  “I can see that. He’s an awesome kid, Quinn.” I lightly trace her spine with my fingertips, causing her to shiver and snuggle closer to me. “Do you get together with other family members for the holidays or do any traveling?”

  She picks her head up and looks at me. “Sometimes we travel, but most of the time, it’s just me, Henry, and my mom at the house. We open presents, play, and eat cookies and candy all day. I love it.”

  I want to ask about her dad, but she’s especially beautiful right now, the way her face lights up when she talks about her family, and I don’t want to ruin it or make her sad. She’s never brought him up, so I can only assume he’s a sore subject.

  “What about you?” she asks.

  “Every holiday is a big deal in the Harris family, especially Christmas. My parents go overboard on gifts for everybody—me, my sister, Lucy, and her husband, Will, and even Sebastian. Lots of food, lots of booze, and lots of laughter.”

  “Sounds perfect to me.”

  What would truly make it perfect is for her to be there with me. Henry, too. But I don’t say that. Instead, I sit up, cup her face, and kiss her. As usual, the kiss escalates and soon Quinn is straddling me.

  I kiss my way down her neck and across her collarbone before she pushes on my shoulders, forcing us apart.

  “I have to ask you something.” Her voice sounds hesitant.

  “Ask me anything,” I encourage her.

  I rarely see Quinn look nervous or vulnerable. It makes my stomach drop with worry about what she’s going to say.

  “Well, I need to ask you a favor,” she admits. “My hospital has this big gala every December, and I was wondering if you’d be my date.” Her eyes are everywhere but on me, and her lip is firmly planted between her front teeth. The fact she’s insecure about asking me to go on a date with her is ridiculous. If she only knew the things I want to do with her. It’s adorable that she’s unsure of my answer.

  “Quinn, I’d love to go with you.”

  Big brown eyes fly up to meet mine, and I can’t believe she’s so surprised. “Really? You’ll have to wear a tux. I know guys hate that kind of dress-up stuff… Well, so do I, to be honest, but… you’ll really go?”

  “Of course I’ll go,” I say, squeezing her hips for emphasis. “Just tell me when and where to pick you up, and it’s a date.”

  “It’s next week. I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I should ask at all.”

  “Why not?”

  She lets out a sigh, brushing her hair back and crossing her arms over her gorgeous tits. “Because we’re supposed to be fuck buddies,” she says, motioning between our naked bodies, “not fuck buddies who also date.”

  Raising up off the bed, I pull her closer to me. “I also told you I’d be anything you need me to be, and if that means being your date for your office party, then that’s what I’ll be.”

  “Even though it’s formal?” she asks, still looking so unsure of herself and this situation. It makes me want to kiss her until she forgets everything… even her name.

  Instead, I assure her, “I already own a tux.”

  “Of course you do.” She laughs, her body relaxing.

  “But I do have a condition,” I say, feeling her stiffen slightly.

  She looks at me warily, biting back down on her lip, bracing herself for whatever my condition might be. Tit for tat and all that. “What?” she finally asks.

  “You have to return the favor and be my date for my parents’ Christmas party.”

  Her eyes grow wide and she pushes back a little. “I don’t know,” she says slowly. Her lip is being tortured between her teeth and the worry is firmly in place on her beautiful face. “I don’t think fuck buddies should meet each other’s parents.” She tries to soften the blow of her words by pressing a soft hand to my chest.

  “But it’s okay for fuck buddies to meet co-workers and children?” I try to keep the hurt out of my voice, but I’m sure I failed. “What other rules should we establish?”

  Her eyes skitter across the room before landing back on mine. “There was actually one rule I’ve been thinking about,” she says, holding my gaze. “No being fuck buddies with anyone else.” The words come quickly, like she had to rip the Band-Aid off and get them out in the open, and I inwardly smile.

  “Done. No more club,” I counter.

  “I haven’t been back since the last night I saw you there,” she admits quietly.

  My heart beats faster with that piece of information before leveling out. She hasn’t been back. I mean, I had hoped that was the case, but I couldn’t know for sure. The admission brings me so much relief I didn’t even know I needed, and my body fully relaxes with Quinn in my arms.

  She looks up at me, her eyes scanning my face searching for a response, but instead of saying anything, I kiss the tip of her nose.

  “One more thing,” she says, her voice coming out raspy. “ No more getting pissy when I try to make a joke.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  That wicked smile I love so much slips into place. “I was joking about meeting your parents.”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  “Yes, I was. They sound great. I’d love to meet them.”

  I flip Quinn onto her back, pinning her arms above her head, causing her to laugh. Her dark hair is wild, matching the look in her eyes.

  “No more making bad jokes,” I add, grinding into her.

  Her laughter quickly turns to moaning when my mouth travels to her neck and then down her chest, landing on her nipple. I hold both her wrists in one hand, freeing the other to attend to her other breast, just like my mouth is doing. Quinn stretches, arching her back off the bed and driving me wild. I fucking love how uninhibited she is. She loves sex, she loves to feel good, and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants. I’m just glad that, for now, it’s with me.

  I release her hands so I can move lower, groaning as she immediately starts tugging at my hair. When I get to the apex of her thighs, I spend extra time biting and sucking on her skin until she’s thoroughly marked by my mouth. She’s looking at the hickey when I glance up, and her eyes are hooded and dark.

  “That’s so fucking hot,” she says with a gasp.

  “Damn right,” I agree, kissing my artwork one more time before moving to her pussy and showing her just how talented my mouth is.

  Chapter 13

  “You’re fidgeting.”

  “Am not.”

  “Yes, you are,” I tell the beautiful woman standing beside me in the elevator—the beautiful woman who I would like nothing more than to be taking against the wall right now. Since the second she stepped out of her car and I saw the long… long… slit up her sexy leg, I’ve thought of nothing but running my tongue along that bare, soft skin, directly up to the Promised Land.

  “I’m nervous,” she admits, watching the numbers on the elevator as they climb.

  “About what?” I ask, watching her profile. Her side-swept hair looks so silky and smooth. I want to feel it, touch it...and then make a mess of it.

  “You,” she says in a flustered tone. “I’ve never brought a guy to one of these things.”

  “Never?” I ask incredulously.

  “Never.”

  “Why now?” I ask as the elevator approaches the top floor.

  “A few of the nurses were trying to set me up with one of the new residents. To get them off my back, I told them I already had a date. If I came without one, they would still be trying to set me up.” She lets out a huff as the elevator doors open. “So, here we are.”

  My stomach drops a little at her confession. I mean, I didn’t let myself get my hopes up
that there was any more to this night than what she had said… a favor. I’m scratching her back. But the fact my being here makes her nervous and uncomfortable goes against everything inside me. The only thing I want to do is make her happy… make her feel good. I want to ease her, not make her break out in hives.

  “If my being here is too stressful for you, I can fake an illness or something.”

  We pass a couple and Quinn greets them. I merely nod, unsure of my place.

  “You’d do that?” she asks, and my stomach drops even further.

  Stop being fucking Prince Charming, Harris.

  Maybe Sebastian is right. Maybe I lost my balls. Or maybe I chopped them off the day I agreed to be Quinn’s fuck buddy, and she now has possession of them.

  “Uh, if you wanted me to. Sure.”

  She stops and yanks my arm, pulling me into a dark corner. “Kiss me.”

  “What?” I ask, wondering if she’s the one who’s sick. “I don’t want to mess up… this,” I say, waving to her gorgeous, put-together form.

  Her hands grip the lapel of my tuxedo, and she pulls me to her, our mouths colliding. Her tongue forces its way into my mouth, and I happily oblige, taking her in greedily. I’m careful with the hair, but I press my body to hers, pushing her into the wall. After a minute or two, we slow down. I nip at her bottom lip, and she slides her arms up and around my neck, her lips ghosting over my cheek.

  “Thank you for being here.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Pushing off the wall and looping her arm through mine, she says, “Let’s go mingle.”

  Chuckling, I shake my head. This woman never ceases to amaze me… and keep me on my fucking toes, always guessing what she’ll do or say next. “Okay,” I agree, thankful she’s changed her tune and all it took was kissing me in a dark corner to make that happen.

  I smile and walk her toward the double doors.

  The music that could be heard from the hall gets louder, and people are everywhere. Lots of sparkling dresses and men dressed in tails. A waiter walks by, offering us a glass of champagne. Quinn and I both gladly accept. If she’s feeling anything like me, she needs it. Between Quinn’s nerves and our impromptu make-out session, I could actually use a shot of whiskey, but this champagne will do for now.

  “Quinn,” a familiar voice says, approaching from behind. My body tenses until I feel Quinn’s hand on my arm.

  “Cindy, you look gorgeous,” Quinn says, leaning forward and placing a kiss on the cheek of the woman I’ve only seen one other place.

  The club.

  What the fuck is she doing here?”

  “Jude,” Quinn says. “I believe you know my friend, Cindy.”

  I force a smile and offer my hand. “Yes, it’s nice to see you.”

  “So good to see you,” she says with a raised eyebrow. I watch as her gaze shifts from me to Quinn and back. My being here is obviously just as much a shock to her. “Well, I was on my way to the bar. Y’all enjoy yourselves.”

  “You too,” Quinn says as she walks off.

  I down what’s left in my glass as Quinn and I turn to watch the crowd.

  “I guess I should’ve mentioned that I work with Cindy. She’s a nurse in the ER,” she says without looking at me. “She’s who invited me to the club.”

  “So Cindy daylights as a nurse.” I nod and let out a low chuckle. “She looked shocked as shit to see me here.”

  “Yeah, probably would’ve been good to mention you to her. Kinda slipped my mind.”

  “Small world.”

  “Yeah,” she says, laughing. And I’m happy to hear it.

  Looking for a distraction that’s appropriate for public consumption, I glance around the room and see a dance floor with a few couples taking a spin. “We should dance.”

  “Oh, you dance?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at me, and I realize it’s going to be damn near painful to keep myself in check tonight.

  She offers me her hand and I take it, following her through the crowd. A slow song comes on, and I pull her close, loving the way she feels pressed up against me. She smells amazing. The sweet and spice I’ve grown accustomed to is in full force tonight, and I want to drown in it… in her.

  After a couple of songs, a man steps up to the microphone and taps it. Quinn turns to the stage, and I stand to her side, placing my hand at the small of her back, needing to touch her.

  Unlike a few weeks ago, she doesn’t stiffen, only relaxes into my touch.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to welcome everyone to this year’s Quincy Roland Holiday Gala.”

  The room erupts in applause, and I follow suit, clapping, but my mind is stuck on the Quincy Roland part. It seems there are a few things Quinn failed to mention.

  “As you all know, Dr. Roland was passionate about many things, two of those being this hospital and our Cardiac Program. It was through his foundation the Cardiac Wing was built, and it’s through this gala it stays open. A hospital requires generous donations from wonderful people like those of you in this room tonight. As chief of staff, I’d like to thank you for your contributions.”

  The band returns to playing, filling the room with a light jazz. Quinn and I both take another glass of champagne as a tray passes by and people begin to mingle again. A few stop and say, “Merry Christmas” or “it’s good to see you”. Quinn smiles politely, accepting hugs or kisses on the cheek. She’s assuming a new role I’ve never witnessed before, so I stand back, giving her space and admiring how beautiful she is.

  The man who was on stage a few minutes ago walks up, telling her how beautiful she looks and how proud her father would be. With that one statement, he just answered the question swirling in my mind. Quincy Roland is Quinn’s dad… or was Quinn’s dad.

  “How happy would Quincy be tonight?” he asks, looking around the room.

  She smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in her eyes as she scans the room and then returns to the man in front of her. “He’d be really happy.”

  “Have you heard the news?” the man asks.

  “I don’t think so,” Quinn says, her eyebrows drawing together. “What news?”

  “Dr. Cartwright is coming back to be head of cardio.”

  I watch Quinn’s face morph from confused to happy… and then to something else.

  Scared?

  Nervous?

  “Oh, really?” she asks, her voice a bit strained. It might not be noticeable to anyone else, but I see it, hear it. Over the weeks we’ve been meeting up, I’ve become so attuned to her and her body, I can’t miss it. Every small nuance of Quinn Roland is charted in my mind. “I hadn’t heard.”

  “Well, you know how these things go,” the man says, cocking his head. “But as of tonight, he’s slated to be back at Mercy by the new year.”

  “That’s… great,” Quinn replies, smiling up at him, but I can see something else behind that smile. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s something.

  “Quincy would be really happy about that too, am I right?”

  I notice the way her fingers tighten around the champagne flute and I instinctively want to touch her, protect her… give her whatever she needs. “Definitely,” she says with a small nod. “It’s all he ever wanted.”

  “Well, I’ll let you get back to the party.” He kisses her cheek and nods to me as he walks away.

  Quinn lets out a deep sigh, stiffening a little when I place my hand on her back.

  What the fuck?

  We are not going back to that, no way.

  Bending so my lips are close to her ear, I ask quietly, “Everything okay?”

  “I think I’m ready to go.”

  “Sure,” I say, taking her empty champagne glass and setting it on another tray as it goes by. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I want to ask so many questions, but instead, I guide her through the crowd, back down the hall and into the elevator. I let the quiet settle between us and instead of walking her to her car, since she insisted o
n us meeting in the parking lot, I lead her to mine. She doesn’t argue nor hesitate. Once we’re inside, I start up the car and head to the one place I like to go to when I’m feeling a little stressed.

  Besides the Omni.

  “Whataburger,” Quinn says as we pull into the drive.

  Looking over at her in the passenger seat, still looking so gorgeous, I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. “I’m sorry. I guess I should’ve asked.”

  “No, this is perfect.” I swear there’s a blush on her cheeks, but I don’t comment on it.

  After we get our food, we pull up into a parking spot under the streetlight and dig in.

  Quinn doesn’t fight me over the ketchup like Sebastian does, claiming she doesn’t like ketchup on her fries because it “hides the delicious potato flavor”. I think I like her more than I did five minutes ago. We’ll need to go on more Whataburger dates.

  Ten minutes later, we’re both leaned back in our seats, and Quinn is sucking up the last drink of her float.

  Guess I was wrong.

  “So,” I say, trying to start a conversation without freaking her out or making her upset.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, playing with the straw in her cup.

  “For what?”

  “I should’ve given you some sort of prep course. I feel like I took you in there blind. And on top of that, I’ve been a hot mess all night. Sometimes I don’t know why you put up with me.” She says that last part quietly, looking out the window.

  Fighting back a smile, I admit, “You’ve got the hot part right.”

  She turns and rolls her eyes before turning her attention back to her empty cup. After a few moments, she takes a deep breath and moves in her seat to face me. “So, Quincy was my dad… is my dad. He died seven years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She nods sadly. “I miss him, especially on nights like tonight.”

  Hoping I don’t make her shut down, I press for more. “How did he die?”

  There’s a shift in her expression and I’m afraid I hit a landmine and those walls that are so tough to tackle are on their way back up, but then she opens up. “Heart attack. How crazy is that? World-renowned heart surgeon, and he died of a heart attack.”