Semi-Obsessed

by Isabel Jordan

  According to Marina, the Mira Hotel, hosted the television station’s charity event every year. It was gorgeous—all high ceilings, historic décor, and soft ambient lighting—but didn’t hold a candle to Quinn’s companion for the evening.

  Taking hold of her hand and leaning down so that his mouth was at her ear, he asked, “Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?”

  She smiled up at him and the beauty of that smile, along with the realization that he’d do pretty much anything in his power to keep that look on her face forever, was like a baseball bat to the gut.

  “You might have mentioned it a time or two. Or ten,” she whispered back playfully.

  “Oh, well, in that case, have I told you that as soon as we get out of here and I have you out of that dress, the first thing I’m going to do is bury my tongue between your legs?”

  He tightened his hold on her as she stumbled and gazed up at him, mouth open in apparent shock.

  And that look only encouraged him to add, “Or that I’m getting hard just thinking about all the ways I plan to fuck you tonight?”

  Her color heightened to the point that he feared she might pass out. But his Marina always gave as good as she got, so without missing a beat, she raised up on her toes and whispered in his ear, “Have I told you that if I was wearing panties, they’d be soaked right now?”

  He glanced down and she subtly tipped the bottom of her skirt up just a bit so that he could get a better view of her silk stockings and lace garters. And above those garters…apparently nothing.

  Holy. Fuck.

  This time he stumbled and his mouth dropped open in shock. His semi turned into a full-fledged hard-on as all of his blood rushed to his groin.

  Marina smoothed her skirt back into place, her ruby-painted lips curving into the sexiest, most sinful smile Quinn had ever seen. She gestured toward the elevator. “Coming?”

  “Not yet, but it sure as shite wouldn’t take much now,” he muttered.

  She laughed, and he let her guide him to the elevators that led to the mezzanine and the ballroom. He pulled their invite out of his jacket pocket, knowing security would stop them—should at least, or else they’d catch holy hell from Harper Hall for having lax procedures while her sister was on the premises—to verify it.

  A gravelly voice behind them said, “I guess they just threw open the doors and let the riffraff wander in off the street, didn’t they?”

  They both turned and Marina smiled at the woman who’d spoken. “Guess so, seeing as you’re here.”

  The woman huffed out a chuckle that ended in a three-packs-a-day smoker’s cough. When the coughing died down, she said, “How ya doin’, kiddo?”

  “I’m good, Gladys. Quinn, this is Gladys Dawes. She’s the head of accounting at the station. Gladys, this is Quinn Connell.”

  Gladys was all of four and a half feet tall and probably didn’t weigh a buck soaking wet. Her hair was gunmetal gray, but her unlined face made Quinn think the color was her choice, not Mother Nature’s. If he had to guess, he’d say she was maybe 45 years old, and most likely damn smart, given the wicked sparkle in her cornflower-blue eyes.

  Quinn shook her hand and offered her a nice-to-meet-you, all while thinking about dead puppies, skinny-dipping in an Irish spring in a blizzard, the grizzled old nuns who used to smack his knuckles with a ruler at the Our Lady of Perpetual Help church preschool he attended as a wee lad…anything to kill his Marina-induced boner.

  It was imagining one of the old nuns in her skivvies that eventually did the trick. Even though he’d probably go to hell for imagining such a thing, Quinn regretted nothing. Highly worth it to not have to meet all of Marina’s co-workers while his dick saluted her like a lowly private salutes a four-star general. How fucking embarrassing would that have been?

  Gladys released his hand and shook her head before glancing back up at Marina. “You sure as shit traded in that old clunker for a Rolls, didn’t you? Well done, sister.”

  Marina laughed, and it took Quinn a second or two to figure out that Gladys was talking about him, comparing him to Marina’s ex. “I’ve discovered recently that I have an affinity for the finer things in life,” Marina said with a glint in her eye.

  They made casual chitchat in the elevator, and when they’d handed their invitations over and entered the ballroom, Gladys excused herself and headed toward the bar, but not before saying, “Hey, kiddo, if you get the opportunity, snap a picture of Dex’s face when he sees James Bond here, will ya? That’ll be priceless.”

  Marina waved her off with a chuckle, and Quinn walked them over to check Marina’s coat and find the placard that told them what table they’d be sitting at for dinner.

  As he looked around the cavernous room filled with rich, fancy-looking people sipping champagne, listening to a string quartet playing elegant classical music, Quinn had never felt more like the orphaned Dublin street urchin that he was. He tugged at his tie, suddenly nervous. He didn’t belong here, and every one of Marina’s coworkers and all these rich folk would probably realize it the second he opened his mouth.

  But just as he was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, Marina reached down, grabbed his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re here with me,” she said, smiling up into his eyes.

  And just like that, the panic disappeared, washed away by the sincerity in her tone, in her eyes. She meant every word. Having her at his side, he suddenly realized he didn’t give one flying fuck what anyone else in the room thought of him. Only her opinion mattered.

  “Me, too, love,” he answered. “Me, too.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  After they’d circulated through the crowd and made small talk with all of Marina’s coworkers—except for Dex, who’d yet to arrive, thankfully—Marina and Quinn sequestered themselves at their table, pretty much ignoring everyone in the room while they talked about anything and everything.

  “Tell me something no one else knows about you,” Quinn said.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  The sincerity in his tone and earnest look in his eyes warmed the darkest corners of her heart, corners that hadn’t felt so much as a spark of heat in way too long.

  “Um…well, OK,” she said, doing her best to ignore the warmth. “Silly stuff or serious stuff?”

  One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Both.”

  Sadly, it didn’t take long to come up with something no one else knew about her, because honestly, other than her family and the handful of close friends she had, no one really knew her. She imagined that was her fault more than it was anyone else’s. “Well, I jumped out of a moving car once when I was 17.”

  His eyes widened. “What in the ever-lovin’ fuck did you do that for?”

  “I’d borrowed my uncle’s car, an old Impala, to get to work at the Dairy Queen one night. It was a nice night, so I had the windows down. I’d just pulled away from a stop sign when a grasshopper flew in the window and landed in my lap. I screamed, flung the door open, and jumped out of that car like my ass was on fire. It took me a second to realize that I hadn’t bothered to put the car in park or shut off the ignition.”

  He looked caught between horror and humor when she added, “No one was hurt. The roads were really clear that night, thank God. But the car rolled into a tree. Did a few hundred dollars’ worth of damage. My uncle was pissed.”

  Marina remembered how he hadn’t wanted to yell at her, but his face had turned the ugliest shade of purple she’d ever seen when he saw the damage to his beloved car. “I was too embarrassed to tell anyone what really happened, so I lied and said a deer jumped out in front of me and I swerved off the road and hit the tree. That summer I gave my uncle every penny I earned to pay for the damages.”

  “And no one ever found out the truth?”

  She shook her head. She suspected her mother had known she hadn’t been telling the whole truth. The woman was an empath, for God’s sake. But he
r mom never called her out on it. Just told her to be more careful in the future.

  Quinn shook his head, still looking like he was struggling to hold in a laugh. “I’m guessing you drive with the windows up these days?”

  “Always.”

  “That’s probably best.”

  “Yep. What about you?”

  “Oh, I never drove with the windows down. Didn’t want to mess up my hair.”

  He made a big show of tossing fake hair over his shoulder and she laughed so loud she ended up snorting, which made him laugh. Then they both laughed and snorted their way through a host of other fun facts about themselves.

  Quinn: “Batman is my favorite DC superhero because I think Superman is a pretentious, holier-than-thou jackass.”

  Marina: “I have a theory that country music causes cancer. My evidence is more anecdotal than scientific, of course, but it’s a theory I still stand behind.”

  Quinn: “I’m pretty sure cauliflower is the work of the devil.”

  Marina: “I believed in Santa Claus until I was 14.”

  Quinn: “I haven’t seen a single James Bond movie since You Only Live Twice.”

  Marina: “Because Sean Connery was the only true James Bond?”

  Quinn: “Fuckin’-A.”

  They fist-bumped on that one.

  Marina: “Clowns make me irrationally violent. Every time I see one I want to punch it in the face.”

  Quinn: “I feel that way about mimes. Mimes are nothing but uppity clowns, anyway.”

  Marina: “I’ve seen every episode of America’s Next Top Model. I’m not proud of that, by the way.”

  Quinn: “No judgement here. I got drunk one night and binge-watched an entire season of Vanderpump Rules.”

  Marina: “I can burp the alphabet if I drink a half can of Coke.”

  Quinn: “If a man ever tells you that’s not impressive as fuck, he’s lying. Or jealous. Or maybe both.”

  Marina laughed until she could hardly breathe and had to slump over onto Quinn’s shoulder for support. He wrapped his arms around her, and his own quiet laughter rumbled in his chest beneath her cheek.

  When the laughter died down and she was once again able to take a deep breath, she leaned back and said, “Now something serious?”

  He nodded. “Aye, love.”

  Her eyes dropped to her hands in her lap. “I never told anyone this, not even my sister. But I’ve always been comfortable being alone. I’ve never really felt like I needed a man in my life to be happy…”

  Quinn grabbed her hands and pulled her gaze back up to his. “But?”

  “But…I’ve always wanted a family. Marriage. Babies. The whole deal.”

  This was a test. It wasn’t fair of her to throw this test at him now when everything was so new, but damn it, her biological clock had been ticking like a dirty bomb lately and she didn’t have forever. Since the idea of artificial insemination appealed to her about as much as country music, these days, she had to quickly weed out the guys who never wanted kids if she had any hope of finding the ones who did. If the idea of family and babies scared the crap out of Quinn, better to know now as opposed to months from now when she was even more attached to him.

  His thumbs brushed over the backs of her hands and his eyes heated with a look she couldn’t fully interpret, but that looked pretty far removed from panic. “How many babies do you want, love?”

  She swallowed hard. “Two…at least.”

  His answering smile was sweet and all kinds of hot at the same time. “I can see that. A girl and a boy, both with your eyes.”

  Marina let out a relieved breath and he chuckled. “Was that statement supposed to scare me off?” he asked. “Was it a test?”

  “I’m sorry,” she rushed to explain, “I didn’t mean to be rude or rush you into anything. I’m not crazy. I mean, I know we just met and we’re about as far away from talking seriously about babies and marriage as we can be. I get that. I’m just…not a kid anymore, and I don’t want to…get attached to anyone who doesn’t want the same things I want in life because—”

  He silenced her by cupping the back of her neck in one of his huge hands and tugging her close for a hard kiss. When he pulled back and let her catch her breath, he rested his forehead on hers and said, “I don’t want to scare you, but when we know who attacked you and Haven and that whole mess is resolved, I don’t want to leave you. I want to spend time with you. And if spending time with you eventually leads to marriage and babies…well, then I’d be the luckiest bastard who ever lived.”

  She blinked at him. “You would?”

  “Aye.” He pulled her closer again and whispered in her ear, his voice rough, “If you’d have me, someday, I’d give you all the babies you want. I’d give you anything, love. You deserve it all.”

  She leaned back to look him in the eye once more. “Wow,” she said on a shaky sigh. “That was maybe the sweetest…and hottest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  This time his smile was pure sin. “Hot enough to entice you to get the hell out of here with me?”

  He had no idea. “Hot enough to drag you into the nearest empty room and see how fast I can get you out of those pants.”

  He was up and had tugged her to her feet before she could even take another breath. “Well, what the hell are we waiting for?” he asked.

  And just when they’d determined that the super fancy unisex bathroom in the hall around the corner from the ballroom was clean, equipped with a lock, and contained a luxurious chaise that Marina would, at the moment, love to be bent over, a voice—a voice that flowed over her skin like cold pond scum—stopped her dead in her tracks.

  “Marina. It’s so good to see you. I was really hoping you’d be here.”

  Marina turned slowly, not letting go of Quinn’s hand. “Hello, Dex.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  If Quinn had been forced under threat of death to pick Marina’s ex out of a lineup of her co-workers, the guy standing before him was the last one he would’ve picked.

  Dex, whose last name was apparently Ascott-fucking Ascott, of all things—was about a half foot shorter than Quinn and built like a Pez dispenser. His features were, Quinn supposed, what most women would consider to be handsome, but he looked like the type of guy who primped for hours before he left the house—every hair in place and gelled to within an inch of its life, eyebrows waxed into a permanent look of surprise.

  Marina had been dating so far down with this dude that it practically couldn’t even be called dating. Dumpster diving maybe?

  It had taken every ounce of restraint Quinn had not to crush the guy’s hand when Marina introduced them. And ever since that moment, the little twat hadn’t stopped prattling on about how he was so sorry things had “turned out badly” for them and that she’d been hurt.

  He didn’t directly admit blame, of course. No, that’d be too decent a thing to do. Instead, he was sorry things had “turned” bad. Stupid fucking prat.

  And as if all that wasn’t bad enough, the stupid fucking prat was cockblocking him.

  Oh, hell no.

  Quinn held up a hand in the arsehole’s face to silence him. “I’m gonna have to stop you for a second there, dick.”

  Dex blinked up at Quinn, stunned. “Um…my name’s Dex.”

  “Yes, I know,” Quinn said, then frowned down at Marina before asking, “He’s not your boss or anything, is he?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not even in my department.”

  “So there’s no practical reason why we need to make polite chitchat with him, right?”

  She smirked and gave a little shrug. “None that I can think of.”

  He let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank you, Jesus.”

  When he spun back toward Dex, the smaller man held his hands up and almost fell ass-over-elbow as he leapt back a step and asked, “You’re not going to hit me, are you?”

  Quinn snorted. “Fuck, no. Why would I hit you? The way I see it, I owe you a drink,
mate.”

  “You do?” Dex and Marina asked in stereo.

  “Sure. I mean, if you hadn’t ruined everything with Marina—even if you’d just been about 10% less of a quarter-witted nutsack, I figure—I wouldn’t be standing here right now next to the sexiest, smartest, funniest woman I’ve ever known. I’m feeling pretty damn lucky, and I owe that in part to you. So, thanks, dick.”

  He frowned. “Um…it’s Dex. And…you’re welcome, I guess?”

  “Right, then.” Quinn slapped him on the shoulder hard enough to nearly topple him before grabbing Marina’s hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m off to get even luckier than I already am. Drinks another time, aye, dick?”

  Quinn didn’t wait for an answer as he practically ran to the bathroom, nearly giving in to the urge to toss Marina over his shoulder like a caveman.

  “I can’t believe you pretty much just told him we were leaving to have sex,” Marina whispered as she took two steps for every one of his long strides in an attempt to keep pace.

  He frowned down at her. “Is that a problem? Did I embarrass you?”

  Her cheeks pinked up in a very encouraging way, which made Quinn wonder just how far down her body that blush extended. Oh, the wonderful possibilities…

  “No,” she answered, biting her lower lip. “It was pretty hot, actually. And I owe you one for getting us out of that awkward conversation.”

  He couldn’t hold back a wolfish grin. “Well, I’m sure I can think of at least one or two ways you can repay me.”

  ***

  Quinn drew Marina into the bathroom and locked the door behind them.

  The automatic lights flickered on and Marina took in the space with a mercenary eye, trying to determine the best spot to pull off what she had in mind for Quinn.

  The small, single restroom stall wasn’t an option. Quinn would never fit in there with her. But the antique leather chaise in the small anteroom…that had possibilities. As did the coffee table in front of the chaise. It looked pretty sturdy.

  But Quinn must have had something else in mind, because he immediately spun her around and pushed her back against the locked door. Her head thunked back against it as his mouth covered hers, their tongues tangling as his fingers hitched her dress up to her hips.