Paragon

⊰❉⊱ 46 ⊰❉⊱

I was absorbed in her book. My head propped on my hand as I scanned each page on her glass desk. Who would have considered poker to be an apt take on manipulation and ultimate skill over sheer luck. I had always thought it to be a fool's game–a rigged casino cash cow. Until now.

Now I had to know if that was another talent she had hidden away...

If Quinn was half as good as her pool ability–well she'd be running the game from the West end to the East. She could lie to me. The mortals she played would be helpless if she willed it.

I was already on the 50th page by the time her bedroom door opened. She leant against the frame watching me while my head was tipped over her desk intently.

"Do you normally read in the dark?" She quipped with a frown.

I leant back in the chair, pinning the page I was on. "I can see well enough."

"Of course you can..." She muttered, moving to her walk-in wardrobe and flicking on the light within.

"Do you play poker?" I blurted towards the door.

"Why do you ask?" She called, with a smile in that voice.

That meant she was good.

"That's not an answer!" I retorted, shutting the book and drawing out of the chair about to ask for something to–

She threw a pile of sleep wear at my head before I could open my mouth. I glared and a laugh was muffled beyond the door. "I used to!". That much made sense. Why not use your inhumanly strong people skills to beat people at their own game.

While I was internally debating her past, the rest of me had no time to prepare for her walking out of that closet in nothing but a tank top hugging her body carelessly. I was rooted in place as she waltzed past into the bathroom. Those curves shown off in the sway of each step–

"Quinn."

"What's up detective?" She answered naturally.

"Put some clothes on."

The sink flowed and she laughed into it.

"I normally sleep like this."

"What part of normal is having an immortal in your bed?" I seethed.

She rounded the corner with a toothbrush in her mouth and a knowing look in her eyes. My own went anywhere but her bare legs. The only respite was that her top went far enough to cover that part of her...

"What's wrong, Fletcher? You've seen more." She smirked, turning back to the sink and away from my burning glare.

"So you think it's a good idea to try again?" I demanded.

"Oh, there are many things I'd like to try–"

"Quinn!" I growled, while her laugh came between spitting water out. 

I stared at the t-shirt and sweats. Then shook my head before pulling my shirt over my head in the darker room. I turned my back from that demon in the bathroom but I still sensed that heartbeat. That pulse was too dangerously quick for a mortal seeking sleep. The water shut off in the sink. She was silent–as quiet as a mortal could be. Yet I still heard her when she padded across the carpet to approach my back.

"Don't." I stated flatly ahead of me in the darkness.

The only light coming from the street through the crack in the curtains. She ignored me and slipped her hands around the waist of my jeans from behind. I sighed through my nose and called upon all of my restraint I'd grown so used to using around her.