with the intensity of every single year that they’d missed.
Chapter 11
Quinn
It wasn’t Quinn’s plan to kiss Dallas. When she said she
had to go, she’d really thought about leaving. She knew she
should exit left, or right, or center, or any and all of those
directions, but it didn’t happen. Apparently she was going for
the main act complete with standing ovation instead, because
she was still kissing Dallas, steering her towards the bed.
Backing her up. Further. Faster.
Quinn was shocked that she could kiss like this. Like her
life depended on it. She couldn’t remember ever kissing
anyone but Dallas this way. Quinn’s hands flew over Dallas’
arms. Her skin was warm, and between kissing and touching,
and being touched, Quinn felt like she was going to combust.
They started tugging at clothing. It was too much. That
barrier. It was in the way. Quinn wanted it gone. She needed
Dallas. She needed to remember. She craved it with an
intensity that made her feel like she’d just been plugged into a
socket, an ancient appliance, dusty and forgotten, but even
after all that time, she lit up and worked just fine.
There had been others. In ten years, Quinn had dated other
women, but none of it felt like this.
“Should we stop?” Quinn gasped against Dallas’ warm,
full lips.
“Only if you want to,” Dallas responded. She licked
Quinn’s bottom lip before she thrust her tongue into her
mouth.
Quinn’s head swam. She felt giddy and also horribly
afraid. She knew she was literally on the brink of doing