Page 16 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

“Let’s get this done with,” she mutters, and we head toward the shop together.

It’s a nice place, not too fancy, but a step up from some massive chain store. There’s a row of three dresses in the window in different styles, and Quinn glances at them before pushing inside.

As soon as we step in, a woman with platinum blonde hair and a blinding smile descends on us.

“Hello!” she says brightly. “Welcome to Marie’s Bridal.”

“Uh, hi,” Quinn says back. “We’re just?—”

The woman cuts her off. “Have you been in here before?”

“No, we’re?—”

“Oh, that’s alright!” the woman, maybe Marie herself, cuts in. “I guess I should have asked first if you’re the lucky bride or if you’re looking for bridesmaid dresses. Do you have colors yet? A style in mind?”

Quinn opens her mouth again, but this time I cut in before the chatty blonde can start up. “We’ve got this covered,” I tell her. “We’ll let you know if we need any help.”

Her eyes flicker to me and a small frown crosses her face, like she’s not used to men telling her what to do in this shop. “Oh, well,” she says. “Maybe I could?—”

“No,” Quinn interjects firmly. “We just want to look through your selection and try some things on. We don’t need help.”

The woman wilts a little but keeps her bright customer service smile plastered on her face.

“Of course,” she says. “Well, if you need anything, anything at all, just give a shout. I’ll be behind the counter.”

She hesitates, glancing between us again before going back to the counter.

“Fucking finally,” Quinn mutters under her breath. She stalks past the rows of brightly colored dresses that are probably for bridesmaids and maids of honor or whatever, and then heads for the racks and racks of dresses in every shade of white imaginable.

She starts making her way through them, pulling out a few options here and there, checking to see the sizes and holding them out to examine the styles.

“Here,” I tell her, grabbing one that catches my eye. “This’ll work.”

Quinn turns to look and then scowls at me when she sees it. It’s a mess of a dress, with a massive, ballooning skirt and a high, lacy neckline. The sleeves are severe, and the beading all along the front is chunky and ugly as hell.

“You’re hilarious,” she hisses.

I shrug and put the dress back. “Okay, what about something like this?” I ask, pulling out another one.

This one is the exact opposite of the first. It’s low cut in the front and back, leaving nothing to the imagination.

The material is shimmery satin, and without even putting it on, it’s pretty clear that it will be revealingly tight and show off several of the tattoos I caught sight of the other day when I had her pinned against the wall.

Quinn just gives me the finger in response, grabbing another couple of dresses and heading for the dressing room.

I follow her, smirking at how surprisingly fun it is to fuck with her, and before she can shut the door, I step inside the massive changing room along with her.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she whispers, clearly not wanting to alert chatty Marie to the fact that there’s an issue.

“Helping.” I close the door behind us, then cross my arms and lean against it, making it clear I don’t intend to go anywhere. “Nico’s orders.”

“If you say that one more fucking time…” She glares daggers at me, then shifts her expression to a tight smile. “Fine. Stay. I’ll need help with these stupid dresses anyway.”

I’m a little surprised she relented so quickly, and I watch with a twinge of suspicion as she hangs the dresses up on the hooks along the wall, arranging them in the order she wants to try them on.

“So,” she finally says, glancing over her shoulder at me. “What’s your deal?”

I narrow my eyes. “My deal?”

“Yeah. The other day, Nico made a big fucking deal about how he’s got you and Killian to watch his back.

Are you related or something? And what’s Killian’s deal?

Is the quiet menacing thing just an act, or is he really that silent all the time?

I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak in all the times we’ve run into each other. ”

“That’s none of your business,” I tell her shortly. “And not info I’d share with an enemy.”

Now it’s Quinn’s turn to smirk, her gray eyes glinting with a dangerous sort of amusement. “But we’re not enemies anymore, are we?”

She gestures to the wedding dresses, reminding me wordlessly of what they represent.

Before I can snap back that a few scraps of lace and silk and some bullshit vows won’t be enough for me to ever trust her, she reaches for the hem of her shirt, smoothly tugging it over her head.

I stiffen, the words dying on my tongue as she tosses the shirt on the padded bench in one corner and then reaches for the button and fly of her pants, deftly undoing them.

My jaw clenches. I’m the one who followed her in here, hoping to annoy her and piss her off, but I expected her to insist that I turn around or some shit before she started stripping.

Clearly, Quinn has decided to call my bluff.

She shoves her pants down, getting rid of her boots as well before kicking her pants into the same corner where her shirt ended up. Still facing me, she reaches behind her back with one hand and unhooks her bra, then slides it down her arms and tosses it away.

My mouth goes dry. Jesus fucking Christ .

I knew she had a great body—I could feel the curves and softness of her pressed against me when I was holding her still so Nico could talk to her the other day.

But at least when she had clothes on, there was something left to the imagination.

Now her perky tits are on full display, her nipples a dusky pink and standing out from her body.

The ink that swirls over her skin complements her natural beauty perfectly, highlighting her petite, muscled frame and making her look both deadly and graceful.

It takes a second or two before I realize I’m staring, and I wrench my eyes back up to her face. Quinn meets my gaze with her chin lifted, standing shamelessly in front of me with a challenge in her eyes.

It’s like she’s trying to get back at me for being here, to force a reaction from me, and although I keep my jaw locked and my expression as neutral as possible… I have to admit that she won this fucking round.

This was a mistake .

The words flash through my head, and it’s not the first time I’ve thought them today. This whole fucking thing is a mistake, from top to bottom, and the fact that I’m currently locked in a dressing room with my friend’s nearly naked fiancée is just more proof of that.

But I’m sure as hell not going to let her win, so I stay right where I am, waiting for her to make the next move.

Quinn hesitates for a long moment, as if waiting to see if I’ll break. Then she huffs out a breath through her nostrils and turns to pull on the first dress.

She shimmies into it, pulling it up over her shoulders and twisting in the mirror so she can look at the back of it. When she turns back around, she catches my gaze in the mirror and lifts a brow.

“Are you going to make yourself useful, or what?”

I frown. “What are you talking about?”

“Come zip me up.”

I hold her gaze and move closer to do as she says. My fingers graze her skin as I find the zipper and take hold of it, dragging it upward to close the back of the dress.

She doesn’t react very much at all, but I can see when goosebumps spread out over her skin from my touch. Her facial expression doesn’t change, and she doesn’t even move, but she can’t hide that small, visceral response of her body.

My gut twists as it hits me in a rush how dangerous this game we’re playing is. All I can hope is that Nico is right about the payoff for us. Because otherwise…

Quinn is a wild thing, and getting close to her like this is risky as hell. Not just because she’s a viper who looks like an angel.

But because she’s the type who could undo us all.