Everyone who works within the New York Warriors organization knows that star player August Fletcher refuses to talk to most people...and especially team reporters. All except Quinn Castle, that is.
Quinn doesn't know why the broody football player...
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
I WENT SURFING this morning to release some pent-up energy and tension in my body from yesterday with Quinn, hoping it would help me handle whatever decision she made. If she woke up and decided to keep our relationship strictly professional, I needed to have my shit together so I wouldn't immediately combust from not getting to touch her again.
But I ended up making it so much worse.
Not only was my knee fucking killing me, but now Quinn Castle was fussing over me while I lay in bed uselessly.
To be clear, I didn't mind Quinn fussing over me. I didn't mind her hands flitting over my body or how her eyes scanned me critically, which made my blood heat from her attention. It was hard to mind that.
But I did mind feeling incapacitated. I mean, I wasn't. Not really. Even with a bum knee, I could still find a million ways to make her come. But the problem was that now little Miss Fuck-Me-In-The-Morning wouldn't let me touch her.
Not because she didn't want me. She made that more than clear when she ran across the beach naked beside that Warriors shirt. No, she just didn't think it was a good idea.
On a grander scale, I agreed. We'd already established that none of this was a good idea, but Quinn's main concern was my knee. And I just didn't care as much about that, even if it physically pained me.
I groaned, closing my eyes and imagining what might have happened if I hadn't gone surfing this morning. I pictured Quinn waltzing into my bedroom in that shirt, telling me she still wanted this, and then bending over the side of my bed so I could make her mine.
"What?" Quinn's anxious voice cut through my thoughts. "Did that hurt?"
I opened my eyes again to see her face hovering above mine, nervous expression and all.
"August?" she probed when I didn't immediately answer. "You're worrying me."
"No, Castle. That feels good," I said quickly, assessing my propped-up knee and the gel ice pack Quinn had carefully placed on it. "Thanks for getting it for me."
She wasn't convinced.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," I rasped. "The groan was about something else entirely."
Her demeanor shifted at my words, and I knew she knew exactly what I was thinking about. Quinn's lips curved into a slight smirk.
"Is there anything else I can do to make you feel good, Fletcher?"
I shook my head. There was no way I was letting her do anything if she wouldn't let me reciprocate.
"You've done enough." Ignoring the tiny hint of disappointment that passed over her face, I added, "You don't need to take care of me."
She rolled her eyes. "Well, you won't let me call your friends or family, so I'm all you got."
"I'm fine, Castle," I said with a sigh. But considering I winced when I attempted to adjust my leg, it was unconvincing.
