Chapter 60

The next morning . . .

Deidre Dawson slipped her feet into Rene Caovilla designer shoes. She was wearing the same clothes she had worn yesterday to her father’s funeral. Then again, most women had to put on what they had worn the night before when they stay out all night at a man’s condo. She stood and turned around to look at the man who she had spent the night with.

Quinton Johnson, aka, Q, was resting his back against two red satin pillows. His lower half was covered by a black comforter.

Deidre had ended up at his place yesterday as the sun was setting. It was a miracle she had remembered where he lived. The one time she had been at his home was four years ago when he had thrown himself a birthday party. He had invited her because she was his best friend’s sister, nothing more. Now. . .

“I still can’t believe I did this,” Q muttered.

“Believe it, big boy.”

And I do mean big.

Q was the b