The Man Who Has No Love - Victoria Quinn Page 0,16

client before you gave my P some D.”

He laughed into his glass, spilling a few drops onto the table, finding it funny because it sounded exactly like something Tucker would say. He grabbed the cloth napkin and wiped his mouth, still chuckling slightly. “Fuck.”

I loved seeing him laugh like that, seeing all his teeth as he displayed that enormous grin. Nothing made me happier than seeing him happy, seeing that light fill his eyes with joy.

He rubbed his fingers along his jawline, catching the last drop, before his smile faded away. “I have to tell Tucker you said that.”

“You should.”

He chuckled again.

I finished my wine and left the glass on the table, tired from the long day I’d had and dreading the next one. I loved my job, but sometimes I wished the hours weren’t so long, weren’t so crazy, more like a nine-to-five job. But the kind of services I provided made it inherently impossible. In my heart, I knew I could never go to part time even if I wanted to, because my boss needed someone to put in the insane hours, someone willing to go above and beyond. The job came with a great salary for a reason. Not just anyone could afford a one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan as a single person. But I’d never done the job for the money. I did it because I liked it, and liking it was what made me so successful.

“You’re tired.”

I shifted my gaze back to his, losing track of how much time had passed. “It’s been a long day…”

“I can get you home.”

“No, I don’t want to leave.” That was the last thing I wanted. I hadn’t seen him in days. Even sleep deprived, I’d rather be with him than asleep in my own bed.

He finished off his wine. “Then let’s have sex and go to sleep.”

I chuckled. “So romantic.”

His arms scooped under me, and he lifted me to his chest as he carried me to his bedroom.

My arms circled his neck as I held my face close to his, a soft smile on my mouth, my eyes on his lips. It was romantic, having someone who lifted me so effortlessly, who was happy having simple, monogamous sex then falling asleep directly afterward, having a man who was satisfied with me, who didn’t care how late I worked or how little time I had to spend doing other things. He never complained about my job, never asked me to make a sacrifice, and he was just as devoted to his work as I was to mine.

He laid me on the bed before he dropped his bottoms. His hands went to my body next, stripping off each piece of clothing, getting me down to my bare skin before he moved on top of me, his dick just as hard as if I were in lingerie. His lips were on mine in a heated embrace as his hand dug into my hair, moaning once we were combined together, once he felt me as deep as possible.

My nails hooked into his back as my thighs squeezed his hips, my body folded to take his length as deep as possible. I lay there as he did all the work, and I enjoyed it as he breathed against my ear so I could hear his amplified arousal as he tugged on my hair.

He made love to me in a way a man had never done before, with his eyes on me, really seeing me, really connecting with me. He didn’t shy away from the depth of my feelings, when I’d basically told him I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. His feelings didn’t change because they were so innate, so powerful. He was just as devoted to me, just as committed, as ever.

Four

Deacon

I had just finished lunch when Cleo walked inside with Derek.

Derek was in jeans and a polo shirt, looking more dressed up than usual. He preferred shorts and a t-shirt, usually something with his favorite superhero or insect. He ran to the dining table. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, little man.” I patted him on the head before I pulled out the chair for him. “Let’s have lunch before we go.”

He crawled into the chair. “I’m not hungry.”

“Too bad.” I turned to Cleo, who was dressed in a black pencil skirt with a tight white blouse tucked into the waistband. She didn’t wear a lot of black, and when she did, she looked sexy as hell. It was hard to look