Not a word was said between them. Not a thought to where they were and who might happen to stumble upon them. Instead, Quinn dipped his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth. Despite the lace of her bra, she bit down on a shriek as he twirled his tongue around her bud, the sensations shooting right to her core.
“God, Quinn.” She reached out to steady herself on his shoulders as he took her other nipple and gave it equal attention. With each flick of his tongue, he drove her a little more insane, a little more desperate. She wanted him, she needed him. Not just his mouth on her, but all of him, inside her.
She reached her hand out and slid it down the front of his trousers. He groaned as her fingers closed around the prize, his warmth and hardness only increasing her desire. She was wet for him, her knees shaking, her toes quivering and her breath coming hard and fast in anticipation.
He snapped his head back up and kissed her again, simultaneously raking her skirt up to her hips. Unsteady on her feet, she leaned back against a whiskey barrel for support and spread her legs, desperate for his touch. And Quinn gave her exactly what she wanted. He hooked one finger beneath her panties and slid the finger inside her. All it took was a few deft strokes and his mouth back on her nipple, and she was panting like she’d never panted before.
As the pressure built up inside her, all she could think about was having him. “Do you have a condom?” she whispered.
In reply, he conjured one out of his back pocket and held it up. Of course Jewell Rock’s chief Casanova would carry a condom. While she snatched the little foil packet and ripped it open with her teeth, Quinn yanked down his trousers. Smiling like someone about to win the lottery, she reached for his naked erection and rolled on the protection.
Then, also grinning, Quinn lifted her atop the barrel and removed her panties, dropping them to the floor beside them. Desperate, Bailey wrapped her legs around him and anchored her hands on his shoulders, her head falling back as he thrust into her.
* * *
“Bailey? Bailey?”
She blinked her eyes open and shook her head, shooting up into a sitting position at the sound of Quinn’s voice. He was perched on the edge of her coffee table, only a foot or so away from her, holding out a large glass with white liquid inside. How long had she been out cold?
Long enough to have a sordid dream.
Her cheeks burned and she hoped he couldn’t read her mind.
“What is that?” she asked, her tone perhaps a tad accusatory, but having Quinn so close set her on edge. Awareness and guilt warred within her.
“It’s a vanilla milk shake.”
“You made me a milk shake?” She couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice as she reached out to take it from him, careful not to let their fingers touch in the exchange.
He cocked his head to one side and smiled that toe-curling grin. “Well, you said you didn’t want coffee. I couldn’t find the ingredients for hot chocolate and you don’t like tea, but of course you had ice cream.”
“You remembered I don’t like tea?” The surprises just kept coming.
He nodded, his gaze trained on hers. “Of course. We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends remember each other’s likes and dislikes.”
She swallowed. Friends? Was that what they were? Friends with benefits? Friends who accidentally made a mistake and slept together? Friends who just happened to have conceived a baby?
“Thank you,” she managed and then took a sip of her drink. The cool sweetness slid down her throat. The man was not only hot and good in bed, but he could also make a mean milk shake.
“Did you make one for yourself?” she asked, leaning back into the couch, trying to look relaxed—even though she felt anything but.
“No. And I won’t keep you long. You look exhausted.”
“Jeez, thanks. Way to make a girl feel good.”
“Looking exhausted is not mutually exclusive to looking gorgeous, not where you’re concerned, anyway.”
Her insides heated at his compliment, but common sense immediately reminded her that sweet-talking was simply Quinn’s way. It didn’t mean anything. “Why are you here, anyway?”
He cleared his throat, and dammit, even that sounded sexy. “Well...um...” She’d never heard him sound anything but confident before and this stammering was strangely endearing.
“Yes?” she prodded, wishing he’d just spit it out and leave. Somehow, while she’d been dating and then engaged to Callum, she’d managed to control her attraction to his younger brother. But now that she and Quinn had done the horizontal mambo, she couldn’t be within twenty feet of him without remembering how explosive they’d been together. Even the thought of how he’d treated her afterward, even the thought of his baby inside her wasn’t enough of a cold shower.
“You probably know it’s my mom’s sixtieth birthday soon?”
“Of course.” Before she’d ended her engagement, Bailey had been trying to work out the perfect present for her future mother-in-law’s big six-oh, but now she wasn’t sure Nora would want anything from her.
“As you know, the last six months hasn’t been easy on her. Hell, it hasn’t been easy on any of us, but I don’t want to let this slide by without a celebration. My family’s all so busy with the building of the new restaurant and Callum’s expansion plans that I was wondering if you would organize a party for her?”
He didn’t mention his dad’s death in the equation, but Bailey suddenly wondered if grief over the shocking loss of his father was part of the reason Quinn had broken the rules and slept with her. Maybe none of them had been thinking straight.
When she hesitated, he added, “We’d pay you, of course. I just want to do something really special for Mom.”
She’d been going to refuse, but his heartfelt words and obvious love for his mother got to her. And, if she were honest, surprised her. Also, this was the grandmother of her baby they were talking about. She felt guilty enough about her secret, but, even if she did come clean eventually, right now it was too soon after she and Callum had broken up. She needed time to get her head around this situation herself and didn’t want to be the cause of family disharmony, so perhaps the least she could do was help make Nora’s birthday special.
“And,” Quinn continued, sounding like a salesman who thought he was in danger of losing a sale, “it’ll be a chance for you to show the others your impeccable talent for creating magical events. That way, when the restaurant opens and we start holding functions at the distillery, everyone will be more favorably disposed to throw the business your way. I know you were interested in the McKinnel event contract.”
She was interested in working with the famed McKinnel distillery—was, as in past tense, pre-baby. Now she wasn’t so sure working in such close proximity to Quinn was a good idea. He did crazy things to her insides. Then again, just because he’d approached her, just because he’d be paying the bills for the birthday bash, didn’t mean they’d need to spend much time together. Attending parties might be Quinn’s thing, but he generally left the organizing to others.
“Okay. What kind of event were you thinking?”
He slowly shrugged those big sexy shoulders and she tried not to stare. “Intimate but special. A few of her closest friends and family. A band, maybe a small dance floor. I was thinking we could hire a small marquee and hold the party at the distillery. If it’s still cold, we’ll also hire some heaters for the marquee. I’m sure Lachlan would be interested in catering and testing out some of his new recipes.”
“You haven’t asked him yet?”
He