Tiger in Her Bed
Page 6“Did you wait long?” she asked.
“About ten minutes.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, my gorgeous roommate would love to take my place and she’s free this weekend. Unlike me, she’s good at lying. I haven’t told her, but I’m sure she won’t—”
“Get in!” His voice was harsher than he intended. He didn’t care. He was tired of chasing her with subtle signs. She wouldn’t recognize seduction if it hit her straight in the face. This time, he would stake his claim in a way she’d never misunderstand.
Vanessa looked deflated. “All right, all right. Geez.” She motioned to him to open the trunk.
She put her backpack in, then climbed into the passenger seat. “Nice ride.” She took off her parka and put on the seatbelt. Quinn read the slogan on her t-shirt and swallowed his grin.
It said: Dear Karma, I have a list of people you missed.
Her sense of humor never failed to amuse him. Vanessa never cared about her appearance. While the girls at the office were always dolled up, she was the only one who dressed in what she found most comfortable. Shirts with sarcastic remarks. Baggy cargo pants. And she seemed to be the only female immune to his charms.
Also, the tiger inside him became excited when she was within his reach. Quinn had a hard time controlling the urge to shift. His cock stirred in his pants when he caught a whiff of her scent. She had just taken a shower. Her hair was slightly damp. The aroma of strawberry and citrus from the shampoo wafted his direction. Vanessa never wore perfume. She rarely put on lipstick. Even then, she was beautiful. Quinn never liked women who painted their faces excessively. The natural beauty of a woman should never be concealed under layers of thick makeup.
“You changed shampoo?” he asked.
Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“I’ve got a good sense of smell.”
“Wow. I ran out mine so I stole my roommate’s. Why? Does it smell weird?”
“No. I like it. You ready?”
“I guess.”
Vanessa was a natural redhead. Her hair was long which she always tamed in a ponytail or simple braid. She usually wore unfashionable thick glasses as if she deliberately wanted to repel attention from the opposite sex. But not today. He’d seen her without her glasses before, when she broke her frames and had to wear contacts. She had big, brown eyes with sinfully lush lashes. It complemented her pale, alabaster skin. Her nose was pert and she had cupid bow luscious lips. Lips that begged to be kissed.
“What happened to your glasses?” he asked.
“I tripped and broke them yesterday. So I’m wearing contacts.”
“You tripped? Where?”
“When I was walking home. Some neighbor’s dog chased me because I forgot I had a ham sandwich in my pocket. It was my lunch.”
He had a hard time controlling his expression. Never a dull moment with Vanessa.
“Quinn,” she began, “the people at the office knew about the video.”
“Aren’t you even a little bit concerned?”
“No.”
He glanced at her again. She looked at him as if he were crazy. “I’m surprised you’re acting like nothing happened. Everybody in the office was hounding me nonstop. Especially your fangirls. Jesus Christ. They drive me nuts. I think I’m the most hated gal in the universe, right now. They asked me what I said to make you kiss me like that. I told them my memory was fuzzy. I didn’t remember much. What did I say to you?”
A pang of disappointment jabbed his heart. “You truly don’t remember?” He knew it was mainly the alcohol talking when she brazenly waltzed up to him at the New Year’s Eve party and planted a playful kiss on his lips. But then she whispered seven words that made his resolve crumble–the words he’d desperately wanted to hear all along: Quinn, I want to be your mate.