Page 75 of Quinton's Quest
“Not done anything? You could certainly stand to be nicer to your nursing staff. We’re not lazy like you think.”
Breathe.“I didn’t say—” I took another breath. “I am nice.”
“Seriously?” He slashed his hand through the air. “You’re not. You glare at us if you come into the break room and we’re having a laugh.”
“You’re taking this way too personally.”Did I do that?I couldn’t remember. Just that I hadn’t spotted a nurse with the patients and then three were in the lounge having a grand old time.
“If you insult one nurse, then you insult us all.”
“I didn’t insult anyone. And besides, I have a job to do. Excuse me for demanding that you do yours.”
His eyes widened. “Think very carefully before you say shit like that. Those are fighting words.”
Appease him. “Look—” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m just a bit stressed out. Between juggling my schedule, finding time for the kids… It’s not like I have someone to give me a relaxation hand job at home.”Oh my God, you did not just say that.And yet, judging by the shocked look on Quinton’s face—with his eyes wide and his mouth open—I’d done exactly that.
“So what you’re saying is you’d be nicer to us if you got laid?”
“Well…it wouldn’t hurt.”
He poked his cheek out with his tongue. “What the hell, I’m not busy tonight. I guess I’ll take one for the team. I’ll meet you at your place.”
“Isn’t your home closer?”
“Mama’s off work tonight, and I donotwant to explain why I’m giving an arrogant surgeon a hand job.”
“Oh.” My mind sort of scrambled at that. “Well, when you put it like that—”
“Get in your fucking SUV, Leo, and drive home. I’ll be right behind you.” With that, he pivoted and stalked off toward his vehicle.
After I slid into the driver’s seat, I slammed the door. And then adjusted myself. Because Quinton pissed off—and clearly horny—was a sight to behold. With shaking fingers, I pressed the button to start the engine. Very carefully, I drove through Abbotsford, across the bridge, up several steep hills, and finally into the darkness of the hills. Since streetlamps were strategically placed at intersections and few other places, I drove in the dark.
With only my thoughts to keep me company.
I’m bringing a man home for sexual gratification. Something I’d sworn to never do.The house was sacred and entirely dedicated to my children. I saw it as more theirs than mine. Everything was designed for their comfort. To give them a sense of security.And now you’re asking him to come inside for the second time.The perfection of the first visit sat prominently in my memory—but we’d had the kids as chaperones. As onlookers. So we hadn’t touched each other.
Tonight?
Was I really expecting him to give me a hand job? Or was I simply relieved we were no longer fighting in the open parking lot where anyone could have seen us? Hell, maybe someone had, but had chosen to stick to the shadows.You really need to be more careful. Yeah, except careful and Quinton Li didn’t belong in the same train of thought. He was trouble with a capitalT,and I wouldn’t want him any other way.
That had me hesitating as I took the turn onto my street.How do I want him? How does he want me? This back-and-forth antagonism isn’t good for either one of us. Which begged the question—was I an arrogant jackass?
The answer hadn’t come to me as I pulled into my plowed driveway. Snow didn’t usually stick around this long, but we’d been having a cold snap. Once parked, I hustled into the house. Thank God I’d showered at the hospital, so that was taken care of.
And my house was pristine—as always. Because I never knew when the kids might need to come over—and I was a stickler for cleanliness. In fact, I’d cleaned Thursday night after coming home from counseling, and I’d do the same this Thursday. To prepare for having the kids over.
I removed my coat and hung it in the front hall closet. Then I headed to the bathroom to take a piss. Because nothing like needing to pee while getting a hand job.
The front door opened and closed.
I flushed, re-zipped, washed my hands, and headed back out to the main room.
Quinton was removing his coat and toeing off his shoes.
Damn. I forgot to do that.I’d likely brought snow into the house. I moved over to the mat and bent to untie my laces.
He grasped my hips and pressed himself against me as he held me steady. His erection pressed against my ass.
Slowly I straightened, leaning back against him—with his hands still gripping my hips—while I toed off my boots. Languidly, I rubbed my crack against his straining cock. “I thought you were going to give me a hand job.” The huskiness and need in my voice surprised me.