Page 14 of Love Potion No. 69

Slowly, Quinton shifts and lets my leg down, and I sigh at the release it brings. His eyes narrow in concern. “Did I hurt you?”

I shake my head, a gentle smile on my face. “No. Never.”

He grins and pushes hair away from my sweaty face with soft fingers. “This is crazy, right?”

“Not in my family,” I say.

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m intrigued, but hold that thought.” He rolls out of the bed and I watch as he strides to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

I’m grateful for the daylight, because I get to see this man’s incredible butt, bracketed by a muscular back and legs, and when he returns, I catalogue his thick, corded body, the darker bits of skin on his knees, the way his ridiculous cock sways a bit as he walks. Big Dick Energy for the win, ladies, andI’mthe one who’s winning.

“What’s that smile for?” Quinton asks as he slides back into the bed and pulls the covers up to his waist.

I laugh. “Just enjoying the view,” I say.

He goes onto his side and props his head in his hand. “Glad I could be of service.”

“In so many ways,” I snicker.

He bops my nose with his finger. “So naughty,” he says fondly.

I twist my lips. “This is a very recent development.”

“Yeah?”

“Like in the last twenty-four hours recent.”

His laugh is warm and decadent, dark chocolate chip cookies right out of the oven, and I scoot closer to him on instinct. He reaches for me, pulling me to him and guiding a leg between his. “Talk to me, Sprite. Tell me everything.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Not sure about this nickname, Q.”

His eyes soften. “You’re tiny.”

“I’m five feet two inches—that is not tiny!” I protest.

He snorts. “Keep telling yourself that. Is wood nymph better?”

“Ew, no.” I try to scoot away, but it only makes him gather me closer and shift us, my stomach to his side, our legs threaded together, my head on his chest, my fingers tracing his soft skin.

“How many kids are we having?” His question is a rumble in my ear.

“Three,” I answer. “One boy—the only boy—and two girls.”

He hums. “How are we both so calm about this?”

I flatten my palm against his chest and run it down to his side, his hip, his powerful thigh. “Because I made a love potion.”

He stiffens, then pulls away to look down at me. “Say what?”

I sigh. May as well get this over with. I sit up and cross my legs, pulling the sheet to cover my lap. His eyes linger on my breasts before making their way back up to meet my gaze. “The night you showed up. The potion we put together?”

He nods. “The pink and orange makes purple tornado in the crazy-ass thunderstorm?”

“The very one. That was love potion number sixty-nine.”

He snorts another laugh. “Sixty-nine? Come on.” He waggles his eyebrows. “If that’s what you wanted, you just had to say it.” He makes to dive under the covers, but I stop him.

“It’s true,” I say, giggling and swatting at him. “I’d tried sixty-eight other times to get it right. It justhappenedto be sixty-nine when you showed up.”