She watched as he went to open his mouth only to close it as he stood up and made his way to the kitchen island, grabbed what looked like the folder their parents gave them and tossed it in front of her.
“It’s against the rules,” Quinn finally said, making her frown.
“There are rules?” Dylan asked, throwing him a curious look as she reached for the folder.
“Page five,” he said, sitting back down across from her as she quickly went through the contract until she came to page five and-
Felt her stomach drop as she went through the terms and conditions for the pregnancy, noting that it had rules covering everything from conception to adoption and everything in between. The child must be conceived naturally unless fertility issues were proven, and then, it went over everything from IVF to surrogacy.
“This is deeply disturbing,” Dylan pointed out, swallowing hard as she thought about what this meant.
She slowly looked up to find Quinn staring helplessly at her. She opened her mouth to say something only to realize that she had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to say, so she settled for closing her mouth, swallowing hard, and-
Released a strangled whimper that had Quinn slowly rubbing his hands roughly down his face with a muttered, “Christ.” When he dropped his hands away, he opened his mouth only to close it, swallow hard, and muttered, “I need a drink.”
Releasing a shaky breath, Dylan nodded because a drink sounded like a good idea. She watched as Quinn grabbed a bottle of scotch from the cabinet along with two glasses and carried them back to the table where he filled the glass halfway and handed it to her before he poured himself a glass, moved to put the bottle down, looked at her, looked like he was going to be sick and filled the glass the rest of the way.
He dropped down in his chair, looked at her and muttered something as he picked up the glass and finished it off in one gulp. That was followed by refilling his glass while Dylan sat there, thinking about the last time that she had sex as she picked up her glass and-
Immediately choked when her throat was coated in liquid fire.
“Dylan, maybe we should-”
“I can do this,” Dylan said, cutting him off as she forced herself to finish the rest of her drink, grabbed the bottle, and refilled her glass only to follow that up with a firm nod, another sip, and another firm nod just because it felt like the right thing to do.
This was just sex.
Nothing more.
People had sex all the time, Dylan told herself, nodding solemnly as she finished off her drink and held her glass out in silent demand. After a slight hesitation, Quinn refilled her glassso that she could take another sip of the delicious beverage, nod to herself, and take another sip.
They were married and married people had sex.
It didn’t matter that she wasn’t in love with him anymore because they’d made a deal, a deal that required them to have sex. Lots of sex. The fact that she’d never had a one-night stand, wasn’t into friends with benefits and hadn’t had sex in five years didn’t matter because she needed to have sex, sex with the incredibly handsome man that had no idea how long it took her to get over him.
“Does this make me a whore?”came the heavily slurred question against the table while Quinn sat there, rubbing his temples with his fingertips while he tried figuring out how they ended up in this situation.
He just-
“I’d make a good whore,” the little drunk mumbled sadly.
“The best,” he murmured, biting back a sigh as he dropped his hands away and reached for her glass only to have the little pain in the ass snatch it away and pull it closer with a sadly mumbled, “I know.”
That was followed by a sniffle as she turned her head, pressed the empty glass against her lips and tilted it with a muttered, “So good,” before she pushed the empty glass away with a satisfied sigh. She really was going to be the death of him, Quinn realized as he grabbed her glass and set it down out of her reach. When he saw her sending a wistful look at the bottle of scotch, he pushed it out of her way, watched her eyes narrow on the move before she released a shuddering sigh as she slapped her hands against the table, pushed herself up and-
Promptly slid, and there was honestly no other way to describe it, over onto her side with the cutest fucking grumble that he’d ever heard. Curious, Quinn pushed his chair back, leaned down and felt his lips twitch when he spotted her slumped over a chair.
This definitely wasn’t how he’d pictured his wedding night ending. Granted, when he’d imagined his wedding night, he’d never imagined that he’d be married to the little pain in the ass. Sighing heavily, he sat up, grabbed his glass and finished it off and couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he’d been thinking when he agreed to this.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Dylan said in a conspiratorial whisper, and since he was thinking the same thing, he didn’t say anything as he dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling, wondering what they were supposed to do now.
He-
“Did it work?” came the curious question that had him biting back a sigh as he stood up.
“Did what work?” Quinn asked as he-
“Did I knock you up?” Dylan asked, making his lips twitch as he made his way around the table.
