I gave a ragged laugh. “Oh, I feel it.”

His gaze shot to mine, lips curving slightly. “Yeah?”

I kissed him lightly. “Trust me, that’s not in question. But our timing really sucks.”

He laughed, put his hands around my waist and pulled me onto his lap. “The others wouldn’t appreciate it if we showed up tomorrow too tired to pull this thing off.” He nipped my earlobe. “And something tells me, if we start this, the night’s not going to be over anytime soon.”

I shivered and tried hard—really hard—not to think too much about that. He ran his teeth up my ear, and I ducked away.

“Enough.” I laughed. “I’m trying to be responsible here.”

“One of us needs to be.”

He slid his hands under the hem of my sweatshirt, tickling my sides, his grin threatening to take his hands farther north. I scrambled backward. He grabbed my hips, toppling me down on my back, then moved over me, on all fours above me, crouched there, grinning.

“Not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

“That depends. Am I close to getting a yes?”

“That depends. Can I be upstairs in about thirty minutes? Before Jack comes looking for me?” I arched my head back and pointed at the suitcase on the floor. “And before Felix wants his room back?”

“Shit. Forgot about that.” He tickled his fingers across my belly, where my sweatshirt was riding up. “Hmmm. Part of me is screaming to take what I can get. But there’s that other part that’s saying if I do, that might be all I get. Thirty minutes isn’t really enough to make a lasting impression….” He met my gaze. “And I want to make a lasting impression.”

Something inside me flip-flopped and I’m sure I blushed.

His lips lowered to my ear. “We could just make out for a while. Hands-over-clothes rule?”

I sputtered a laugh. “I haven’t heard that since high school.”

“I have maturity issues, in case you haven’t you noticed. Is that a yes?”

“Hands over clothes it is.”

“Does it still count if I take mine off ?”

I put my hands on the back of his neck and pulled him down.

Quinn did manage to get his shirt off, but I didn’t complain. Otherwise, he stuck to his rules—just kissing, a relaxed, sensual intimacy that, in some ways, I needed more than sex.

After about ten minutes, Felix unlocked the door, but the chain stopped him from opening it. He must have figured out what was going on and called that he’d be in the lounge, and for Quinn to come get him when he was “un-occupied.”

We lay there for another minute, Quinn’s hand resting on the curve between my waist and hip.