Quintessa scoffed, "As if you're one to talk about not kissing."

Her room seemed to be Tyrone's favorite crash spot; the hotel clearly didn't care as long as the cash flowed.

Head bowed, Tyrone bit her lip, "Could he ever compare to me? What is he, some old guy kissing you, I'll end him."

The smell of alcohol was heavy on Tyrone; Quintessa wondered just how much he had drunk, as if he'd been marinating in a whiskey barrel for days.

Quintessa pushed him away, "Why didn't you just drink yourself to death with your uncle outside? Get away."

Tyrone grunted, "No, I'm not leaving; I'm staying."

he even drunk? He was too quick with his comebacks. She ground her teeth, "Then move over; this is my room. If you're

lips, gently nibbling, whispering, "I need

Quintessa could only feel the burning heat from

numbing effect of the alcohol, but Quintessa found Tyrone's

and warmth in each other's company, Quintessa thought she might

into her ear, Tyrone said, "Quintessa,

his kiss fading with those words. She gently patted Tyrone's head, "Be

fast, "Alright, let's

Quintessa clenched her teeth, thinking she

the bed, "I don't want to sleep with you; get

Tyrone hit the floor. Quintessa expected him to explode in anger or come back with more persistence, but after a while, there

right. She

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