Page 39 of Biker's Enemy
What the hell is wrong with Quin? She has to be pretending. Playing a game with me… But she just looks so damn earnest. I don’t understand.
I have never fucked a woman in my life who hasn’t become immediately and permanently attached to me. Instead, Quin has me sitting here holding this baby and watching her cook like she didn’t have my dick coating every inch of her inner walls with my baby juices.
This is wrong. Completely fucking wrong.
“Avery and I are going for our walk at the usual time today,” she says after a painfully long silence. Well, I assume it was painful for Quin because I was trying to make it that way. I need her to talk to me. To give me some acknowledgement that last night happened between us.
That she felt how fucking good it was to finally relieve the obvious tension between us. The tension she’s currently pretending doesn’t exist. This is so much worse than having a teenage crush. I used to just get one of my sisters to manipulate the truth out of my teenage crushes. With Quin, I have to stare at her beautiful, blank, emotionless face and guess how she feels.
Every second of guessing kills me.
“I’ll come with you,” I offer desperately. Quin immediately frowns.
“Why?”
I have to come up with an answer that a woman will want to hear that serves the second function of keeping my concerns private.
“I am taking your criticisms seriously. I need to be there for Avery.”
Quin’s scowl deepens.
“You don’t have to come on a walk with us.”
“I could take Avery and leave you here,” I offer. She turns around and keeps cooking angrily.
I didn’t know a woman could cook angrily until Quin, but I’m almost certain she’s going to chop my balls off next the way she’s slamming that knife into the cutting board.
“I didn’t know babies ate onions.”
“That’s for my breakfast,” she says snappily.
What the hell did I do wrong?
I don’t fucking understand this woman at all, honestly. We share a beautiful and incredibly hot night together and she acts like I’m fucking nothing to her.
“It looks good.”
She doesn’t answer that. Once she feeds Avery, she flips her omelet and I offer to take Avery again. This time, the baby is fussy when she gets in my arms and I know her hesitation is due to her following Quin’s cues. What the hell is wrong with her?
“Is everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” She says in a low, steady voice. Nothing suspicious there. Maybe that’s the problem. She’s too damn good at hiding and I don’t like it.
“Just wondering if you slept okay.”
“I slept fine,” she says sharply, giving me an unmistakable glare. What the hell? I pretend I don’t notice it and mumble something about getting Avery a bath before the walk.
Quin says that it’s a good idea and then I disappear to turn over in my head again and again what the hell is going on.
At first I was concerned, but now I’m just pissed off. I made her cum. I kissed her neck. We connected. I don’t understand…
Getting Avery dressed is harder than I expected it would be because she doesn’t like that I’m not Quin. I try to be gentle with her and almost find myself bonding with her as I get her clothes on…
I can’t let myself latch onto those little traits that I think makes her a Hollingsworth. She’s not mine. She can’t be… and when she has to leave this place, I’ll get hurt if I get attached. It’s smart to stay distant. It’s what dad would have recommended and Aunt Deb knows it, which is why she doesn’t put up too much of a fight when I make my point.
Once I leave Avery’s room and return to the living room, Quin’s body folds in on itself again. She considers me warily as I bounce Avery a little, but her looking at me like that just frustrates the hell out of me after a morning of trying to get close to her and meeting a stoic brick wall.
I knew Quin wasn’t like other women when I met her, but this is something I’ve never experienced before. I took her virginity and she doesn’t seem to care if I live or die. She doesn’t seem to care that I’m taking her feelings into consideration and looking after Avery the way she wants me to.