Literally.
I’d kept my dick in my pants. Why I was remaining celibate was beyond me. It wasn’t like Quincy had asked me to prove I wasn’t a man whore.
It wasn’t like she’d asked me to be faithful.
But I had been.
I hadn’t slept with one woman since that night in Qatar, even if she thought I’d been with the redheaded waitress from dinner the night before. I couldn’t help it that the woman had been flirting, but that was all it had been. Quincy had made assumptions. I just hadn’t denied them.
Quincy ruined all other women for me.
Holly lifted her hand and waved at me, beckoning me to their table. Fuck, I was in trouble here because totally my type. Definitely fuckable.
If I hadn’t had some scruples and personal rules when it came to women, I would’ve used her to make Quincy jealous. But I couldn’t hurt Holly that way because she definitely wasn’t the fling type. And I wasn’t an asshole. In fact, I’d lay out any guy who did that.
I watched as Quincy emerged from the ladies’ room and headed toward Lee at the bar.
Fuck, no.
I sat the pool cue on the nearest empty table and strode forward, willing my brain to come up with something–anything–I could do or say to get her away from him.
It crystallized halfway across the floor, and my swagger shifted into a more purposeful walk.
“Quincy.” I took her elbow with a firm but gentle touch. My tone was clipped and serious. “Ford needs to re-brief us on the mission tomorrow. Something changed.”
She searched my face, which I prayed I had composed well enough to deceive her.
Not quite.
Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
I tugged her forward. “Come on. You can ride with me. We have to get back right away.”
Landers didn’t put up a fuss–the guy really was an idiot to let me move in on his date this way. No way would I have let her go without a fight. “I’ll see you later, Quincy,” he called. “Have fun.”
“Fun?” She twisted to look over her shoulder as I hustled her toward the door. “No, I don’t think this will be fun.”
“Say goodnight, Quincy,” I growled, that gnawing jealousy getting the better of me.
“Goodnight, Quincy,” she muttered as we stepped out into the crisp night air and jogged down the wooden steps to the dirt lot where I’d parked a company SUV.
“Wait, so what is happening exactly?” Quincy demanded as I walked her swiftly to the passenger side.
I unlocked it, opened her door, and she climbed in. I took my time admiring her creamy thighs as the dress rode up. She yanked at the hem, which had me blinking. It took me a second to go around to the driver’s side and join her because I had to adjust my dick in my jeans. “We have to get back ASAP. Ford has new intel that changes the mission.”
“Wouldn’t this be better done in the morning? I mean, I’ve had a beer.” She threw her hands in the air. “Whatever.” Crossing one shapely leg over the other, she turned her hips toward the door and stared out the window at the darkening sky.
I didn’t care if she gave me the silent treatment. I didn’t care that the ride was awkward as hell. All I knew was that I’d just prevented Quincy from hooking up with a guy who didn’t deserve her, and I deserved a goddamn trophy.
My price was breathing in her soft floral scent in the closed confines of the cab. I knew it was her shampoo because the sweet aroma drifted from her room in the morning after her shower. My dick was still hard and pressing painfully against the zipper of my jeans.
I pulled up at the bunkhouse, shut off the SUV and climbed out.
“Where’s the meeting?” she asked, shutting her door behind her.
I willed my brain to come up with an answer to the question. I’d had the entire ride to prepare one, but apparently, I’d been more concerned with trying not to imagine what kind of panties Quincy wore under that easy-access dress.
“Kennedy.”