Capítulo 39: Chapter 39

“You’re an asshole, you know that, Vincent? Do you think I’m worried about that?”

“Why not? I would be.” And if anyone else had called me an asshole, I’d be tearing his head off and pissing down his neck. I didn’t ask myself why I wasn’t separating Mann’s head from his shoulders; I knew why—I was worried about my foot.

He scowled and turned on the bath taps. “I have a copy of your last physical,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t have taken a chance and rimmed you otherwise, much as I may have wanted to.”

My mouth dropped open, but I couldn’t think of a thing to say. I’d deliberately kept myself from thinking what a stupid-ass chance that was for him to take.

I should have known: Quinton Mann never took chances, stupid or otherwise.

“Did you honestly think I’d do something like that just because of your beaux yeux?”

I was almost stupid with relief. “Quinn! That’s French!”