Lost the Handle (Nashville Assassins: Next Generation #8)

Chapter 27

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Quinn

I am the son of Shea and Elli Adler.

The most talked-about love story of two of the greatest people in the world. I’m not kidding; they’re on YouTube from when my mom sang to my dad in the hopes of getting him to be hers. Makes sense why I do what I do, now that I think about that. I’m pretty sure someone has written a book about them—off the record, of course—and one day, it’ll probably be a damn movie. They loved us kids hard and raised us to have good morals, to be loyal, and to be honest.

But it doesn’t matter what morals they instilled in me or even whether I’m really engaged; there is no way in hell I’m not kissing Emery after she bared her soul to me. After she served me everything I’ve been wanting to hear on a silver platter and looked up at me with pure guilt and longing in her wicked gaze.

Yeah, put a fork in me. I’m done. I’m Emery’s.

I snake my hand up the nape of her neck, threading my fingers into the back of her hair as I take her sweet mouth. She tastes of wine and the promise of every single naughty thing I can conjure up that involves her and me—naked. Her lips are soft, inviting, and when I run my tongue along the seam, she opens them like only my tongue is allowed in her mouth. I grip her jaw as I devour her as if she is my last meal. I lick at her hot mouth, rubbing my tongue over hers, along the roof of her mouth, fucking everywhere, because I cannot stop.

I fucking need to consume her.

When we pull back, it’s only a whisper apart, our breaths scorching as our eyes search the other’s. Desire and longing sizzle in her gaze, leaving me panting even harder from how badly I want to burn to ash for her. I lean in, pressing a kiss to the side of her mouth, her jaw, down the column of her neck. I need to taste her everywhere; it’s been way too long. I pull her head back with the grip I have on her hair, loving how goddamn perfect her tendrils feel tangled around my fingers. I trail my teeth along the underside of her jaw, and when she lets out a little moan, my cock surges with need. I meet her wanton eyes and smirk before I crash my lips to hers once more.

Emery’s arms come around my neck, and I drop mine to the curve of her hips, bringing her in even closer. She gasps into my mouth when I press my hardness into her soft stomach, and I am about to come in my boxers when she drops her hand between us, stroking me through my pants. I hiss out a breath when she squeezes me, and she smiles against my lips.

“Fuck, baby. I’ve missed how you touch me,” I somehow get out through gritted teeth, my molars clenching.

She sinks her teeth into my lip, pulling it lightly before sucking it in her mouth. I’m lost to everything but what she is making me feel. She lets my lip go with a pop and then smirks up at me.

That devilish smile gets me every time.

“And I’ve missed this thick cock,” she murmurs against my lips, squeezing me and making me light-headed. “Are you finally going to fuck me, Quinn?”

I can’t even speak. I capture her lips again as she continues to stroke my cock, until I can’t take it anymore. I will not be coming in my pants. I pull away and lift her, her legs going around my hips and her heels digging into my back. I slide my hands to her juicy ass, thankful when my palms land on bare skin as our lips move together. I dig my fingers into her flesh, holding her closer as my cock settles against her hot core. She rolls her hips into me, and I groan in her mouth as I pull her ass cheeks apart. She cries out, and then we lock eyes. We share a breath as we stare at each other, nothing being said but feeling every unspoken word.

I missed you.

I need you.

I love you.

Fear enters her gaze, and I shake my head. “Don’t.”

“Don’t stop, then,” she throws back, her eyes pleading. “Distract me from everything going through my head.”

My heart aches as I look up at her. “It’s so complicated, Em.”

She threads her fingers into my hair. “I know, but we can figure all that out later. I want you, Quinn. Badly.”

I press my cock into her center. “I have lived for thirty-six months, 1,095 days, 26,280 hours, 1,576,800 minutes, 94,608,000 seconds without you. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.”

Her lips curve, a sexy flush running up her neck as she strokes her fingers over my lips. “Show-off.”

I flash her a smirk. “I love impressing you.”

“Numbers will do it,” she teases, her eyes sparkling in a way that I know is meant for me alone. I nibble on the finger she has at my lips, and her pupils widen.

“You’re not too much,” I whisper against her fingers. “At least not for me.”

Her expression softens, her eyes glazing over. “Quinn?—”

I don’t let her say what I’m sure will be all the reasons she thinks she is. “For me, every single thing about you makes me happy. Even when you’re fighting with me, Em, I find myself falling for you.”

“But you have this perfect example of what a wife should be. That’s not me.”

I gaze into her eyes, shaking my head. “I don’t want someone like my mom, Em. I want you.” She presses her lips together. “We aren’t our parents. We’re you and me, Emery and Quinn. And I love that about us. I love that we’re not like everyone else, that we do what we want and don’t care what anyone thinks. I don’t want you because I think we’ll have our parents’ kind of love. I want you because, no matter what, I’ll never be bored.” She smiles, and when a tear streaks down her face, I kiss it away, the salty taste making me harder. “Your chaos grounds me, Em.”

“Really?” she asks, almost shyly.

“Really,” I promise. “I wish you had told me how you were feeling at the chalet. I would have told you all this, made you believe me when I say that I can handle anything you throw my way, because I want you. All of you.”

Another tear falls before I can wipe or kiss it away, and she leans in to kiss me again. This kiss is different, though. It’s not desperate or rushed; rather, it’s full of adoration. Want. Need. Possession. I squeeze her ass, wanting her to become one with me so I never have to let her go. I know this is just going to cause more problems for me, and there is a lot more that she and I need to discuss. I can’t ignore the fact that I’m saying things that I do mean, but that I might not be able to give her right now. I don’t know if she’ll wait for me, but I have to ask. I have to beg, because there is no way in hell I’m letting go of her.

Not again.