* * * * It was early Monday morning. I was feeling decidedly mellow; I had f****d Quinton Mann twice the night before. And just as the sky started to lighten, signifying that dawn was fast approaching, he had pushed my legs back to my chest and slid into me, his cheek against mine rough with early morning stubble. I slid my knees down to grip his waist, and for long minutes we just lay like that. When Quinn finally began to move, it was gentle and unhurried and very, very thorough. I would have liked to have breakfast with him, but I couldn’t afford to let anyone get the idea I was getting soft, losing my touch. And I didn’t want to be late for work. He was just waking again as I finished tying my shoes. I leaned over and kissed his jaw. “I have to go, baby.” Quinn blinked at me sleepi