by Cat Mason
“Rules were meant to be broken,” he growls against my lips.
He bumps into the island, knocking over one of the barstools. The sound of it bouncing off the tile echoes in the darkness. “Sssh. We’re not sellin’ tickets to this show.”
Yanking my skirt up, Tanner rips the pink lace panties from my body. “Pretty.” Lifting me, he places me on the edge of the island and steps between my thighs. “This won’t be sweet, baby.” Freeing his cock, he grips the back of my neck, presses his nose to mine. “Or easy,” he warns, thrusting deep.
“Ah!” I cry out, grabbing onto his shoulders.
“Good?” he grunts, flexing his fingers.
“God yes,” I moan. “Hell yes.”
“Mouth,” he grunts, every pump of his hips jolting the island. Pots and pans in the cabinet clank together, empty pizza boxes and cans fall to the floor around us.
Wrapping my arms around him, I crush my lips to his. He tastes like cinnamon gum and the telltale hint of the cigarettes he sneaks when he is anxious or irritated, mixed with that undeniable bite that is Tanner. I crave the rush kissing him gives me. I want to chase the high, binge on it, drown in it, and hope like hell I can hold my breath long enough to come out whole on the other side.
Moaning into his mouth, I rock my hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. I claw at his back, loving when he growls low in his throat like a wild animal. Heat curls in my belly, sparks of pleasure spreading through my body. I’m teetering on the edge, my body wound so tight I feel like my orgasm is going to rip me apart. And I don’t care. I just want more.
“Hey, Quinnie. Did you two kiss and make up?” The lights flip on, followed by Bristol’s high-pitched scream. “My eyes!”
“What the—” I shout, jolting forward while Tanner freezes mid-thrust. Tanner stumbles while attempting to shield us both with his arm. “Shit!” Slipping on my underwear, he falls backward, taking me with him to the floor. “Bristol!” I scream, my eyes nearly rolling back in my head when my lady bits are fully impaled by Tanner’s dick on impact.
“Oh my God! Don’t use my name!” she shrieks, covering her face the second I try to meet her eyes over the edge of the countertop. “Where is his penis? Oh my God! Don’t tell me. There’s no coming back from that. I have to be hallucinating. Dreaming? No, I’ve died and this is hell. My Nana Jo made cookies on that counter.”
“It's not like we planned this,” I blurt, knowing that’s not going to cut it. "It just happened."
“You and your rogue twat.” She groans, balling her fists at her eyes. "That poor baby is going to come out with dents in its head because Maybe Daddy fucked Mommy where I eat my pancakes.”
I shoot Tanner a glare when he laughs. “Would you calm your tits?” Grabbing onto the counter, I manage to get to my feet and pull down my skirt.
“My tits are completely at peace,” she fires back, dropping her hands to glare at me. “They’re also in my shirt.”
“Maybe they should talk some sense into the rest of your crazy ass,” Tanner chuckles, fumbling with his jeans. Pushing to his feet, he hands me my t-shirt, then snatches up his own.
“Don’t talk to me, you countertop fornicator!” she shouts, pointing her finger at him. “All I see when you talk is your clenching ass cheeks.”
“Can we not shout the walls down right now?” I hiss, tugging my shirt over my head. “It’d be wicked great if my sex life didn’t make the morning papers.”
“Why, Quinn?” she challenges, arching a brow. “Would that make you and your rule breaking vagina uncomfortable?”
“My brother busting in here right now would. Yeah.”
“Greer went for a run on the beach,” she informs me. “Probably to find your crazy ass.”
“What the hell’s going on in here?” E shouts, barreling into the room so fast, he nearly slams into Bristol. His long black hair is damp and hanging loose, broad chest stretching against the black tank top he has on. The guy would be terrifying as hell if he weren’t such a goofy ass teddy bear.
“Oh nothing,” Bristol says, rolling her eyes. “Just a little scarring sexual nightmare to go with my midnight snack.”
Evan looks between Tanner and me, his brows quirking up. “You two broke rule three-nineteen?” Nodding, he pushes past Bristol, grabbing himself a beer from the fridge. “Island or countertop?”
“Stop talking,” Bristol seethes, her rage now trained on E. “This is a hazmat situation, not a team bonding exercise.”
“Hazmat, really?” he snorts, arching a brow at her skeptically. “I usually just wipe down the counter with the dish sponge.”
Looking at the counter, then to the sink, and the blue sponge lying beside the faucet, she shudders. “Do you want me to puke?” she asks, swallowing hard. “Because I will, Evan. Just for you.”
“Save the declarations of love for Tage,” he chuckles, winking at her. “You don’t pay me enough to hold your hair.”
“Well, now that I’ve lost my appetite,” she murmurs, turning her back to us. “I’ll be upstairs, bleaching my eyes and praying for short term memory loss.”
The air in the room shifts when Bristol leaves the room. The kitchen feels ten times smaller than it had when she was in here ranting about midnight cookie tossing and ass clenching. “Well.” Stepping closer to us, Evan clears his throat and looks to Tanner. “Is this the part where you and me go out back and trade punches?”
“What in the name of hairless monkeys is this shit?” I snap, my eyes shifting between the two of them. “Are you two gonna fight behind the tire swings afterschool?”
“No,” they say in unison.
I roll my eyes, the stench of their bullshit strong enough to knock me on my ass. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Breathing deep, I gesture between the two of them with my finger. “This isn’t going to be a thing. We have enough shit to deal with at the moment without you two cockburns adding a little macho man jealousy drama into the shit pot we’ve got boiling over.” Yanking a wooden spoon from the holder on the stovetop, I whack Evan in the arm with it.
“Sonuvabitch!” he yelps, rubbing the welt it left behind. “What the hell, woman?”
“Aww. Did that hurt?” I ask, whacking Tanner in the hip.
“Shit!” he barks, snatching the spoon from my hand before I can pop him again. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“I’d blame the pregnancy hormones,” I shrug. “But let’s face it, I was an asshole long before they showed up.”
“Tell me somethin’ we don’t know,” Evan grumbles, looking down at his arm. “Fuckin’ sadist.”
“Don’t be a little bitch,” I fire back, turning for the fridge. “It’s not like I stuck it up your ass.” Digging into the back, I snag the container of whipped topping before fumbling with E’s locked cabinet for a package of his Oreos.
“Hey, those are mine!” I shoot him a glare, silently daring him to stop me when I shove a handful of cookies into a sandwich bag and seal it. He doesn’t.
“Now,” I begin, digging the meat tenderizer from the drawer. Wielding the damn thing like a hammer, I gesture between them. “I suggest you two work out whatever bullshit is brewing here.” Tossing the baggie to the island, I start smashing the cookies into crumbs. “Because I may be tired, hungry, and in need of a long hot shower and twelve hours sleep, but I’ve got no problem beating some sense into the both of you first.” Trading the tenderizer for the bag, I pour the crumbs into the tub with the whipped topping. “Your mantra for the next few months is compress and destress, or Quinn will turn us both into a bloody mess.” Grabbing one of the remaining cookies still in the package, I dunk it into the tub, swirling the contents together, before shoving the now covered cookie into my mouth.
“Rule two!” Bristol’s voice echoes down the stairs. “No acts of violence on the property can result in bloodshed!”
“Okay.” Swallowing quickly, I glance to the doorway before looking back to Tanner and Evan. “Someone needs to tell me how s
omething could possibly beat that out for the top spot.”
“Rule one.” Yanking a hand through his hair, Evan sighs. “No Gambler in the house.”
“It’s amazing the things that don’t surprise me anymore,” I admit, knowing that E’s obsession with the movie series borders on the edge of sanity.
“Whatever,” he huffs. “This is a hostile work environment! I have rights, goddammit!”
“One of them is to remain silent,” I mumble, biting back a laugh. “How ‘bout you work on that one and be thankful she hasn’t put porn restrictions on the WIFI.”
Evan’s eyes widen. “Don’t even joke about that shit,” he warns, shaking his head violently. “Porn and my cabinet of snack foods are all I’ve got left.”
“Why don’t you head up and shower?” Patting me on the ass, Tanner nudges me toward the doorway. “I’ll be there in a few with some pizza.”
“Is this you trying to get rid of me?” I ask, reading between the lines. He nods, not even trying to deny it. I look to Evan, then back to Tanner, trying to figure them out. Sensing my hesitation, Tanner nudges my ass again. “Fine. You should know it’s only because I need to text Greer and let him know to call off the broody brother search party of one.” Picking up a spoon and my tub of dessert heaven in a tub, I let the tips of my fingers on my free hand run up Tanner’s arm. “Goodnight, boys. There’s towels and bleach under the sink. Be sure and lock up once you’re done killing each other. ‘Kay? Thanks.”
Taking the opportunity to bolt away from whatever the hell is going on with those two, I head up to shower and change into something comfortable and not covered with sand. Hopefully, when I come down in the morning, there won’t be a crime scene that’ll have Bristol screaming the damn walls down.
Tanner
QUINN’S HIPS SWISH with each step she takes away from me and it takes everything in me not to follow behind her and sink my teeth into her gorgeous ass. Turning to climb the stairs, her bright eyes meet mine one last time before she disappears. The boards creak as she climbs. Evan steps into my line of sight. He crosses his arms over his chest but doesn’t say a word. We stare each other down until the door closes and the bathroom pipes start squealing.
“Hard to stay friends with someone when you’re both in love with the same girl,” he says, stating the obvious.
“That hurt your feelings?” I ask, mirroring his stance.
“Because you can’t handle we hooked up?” The cocky bastard smirks. “Or ‘cause you’re terrified that’s my baby inside her? Scares you thinkin’ I may be the one that gets that piece of her. Doesn’t it, Tanner?”
I don’t answer. Not that I have to. There’s no doubt in my mind the answer to his question is written all over my face.
“That amazing fucking girl has always had a sweet spot for you.” He points above our heads, condescension filling his voice. “Not that I understand it. God fuckin’ knows you sure as shit don’t deserve another chance after how you’ve treated her.”
“Guess it’s a good thing that’s not your call, isn’t it?”
“Let me make this shit real clear for you, Tanner.” He takes a step toward me. “Those girls upstairs are pains in my goddamn ass. Every second of my day is spent being driven out of my fucking mind. They raid my cabinet every night, leaving the empty boxes behind because they know it pisses me off. I get forced to watch sappy bullshit movies, never get to pick the ice cream flavors, and catch hell over the smallest shit imaginable.” His expression changes, softening slightly before rage sparks in his eyes the second they meet mine again. “But you can bet your ass I’d cut off my own dick before I’d let them shed a tear over something I did.”
“There a point to your story, sweetheart?” I ask, not letting him believe he can push without me pushing back. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”
“Consider this your warning.” Stepping closer, the big bastard towers over me, in some attempt to be intimidating. I refuse to budge and give him the satisfaction of thinking he has any effect on me. “Quinn may have given you some bullshit pass over tucking tail like a pussy, but I didn’t. She wants to be with you, that’s her call and I’ll respect it as long as she’s happy. You fuck that up and hurt her, friend or not, I promise you won’t walk away without facin’ an ass beatin’ from me.”
Blowing out a breath, I drop my arms to my side. My jaw ticks, fists clenching so tight my fingers ache. There is nothing I would rather do than to punch this smug bastard in the face. It wouldn’t be the first time E and I have come to blows. I also guarantee it wouldn’t be the last. Not that any of this will do a damn bit of good when it comes to fixing shit between Quinn and me. I can’t afford to make things worse now that I’ve managed to finally gain some ground. No matter what I think about this prick, Evan cares and doesn’t want her hurt again. I may not like the guy, but we agree on that much.
“Hate to disappoint you.” Squaring my shoulders, I grab the pizza box from beside the stove. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Not me you’ve gotta prove that to,” he argues, jerking his chin toward the ceiling. “It’s her.” Turning his back to me, Evan shoves open the screen door and heads outside. It slaps closed with a loud thwack, ending our conversation.
“I guess that could’ve been worse,” I mutter, grabbing a soda for Quinn and a beer for myself. A groan comes from the opened doorway that leads to the back room turned movie cave. Two black and white paws stretch into the light, followed by another louder groan. “You here to give me shit too?” I ask when Tage’s dog staggers his ass into the room, yawning and stretching dramatically.
He looks up at me, his face screwing up into a mix of expressions before settling on the pizza box in my hand. Plopping down on his ass, he nudges my hip with his nose, his tail thumping expectantly on the floor. “Hungry, Moo?” I ask, looking out the screen door for Evan. Spotting him out by the back gate, locking up, I smirk down at the dog. “How ‘bout some pizza?”
I do a double take when the dog fucking nods his big ass head before nudging me again. Placing the box and our drinks on the counter, I snag the last of Evan’s extra large meat lovers. I can’t help laughing to myself at his name and the words ‘keep the fuck out’ written in black marker across the top of the box. “Double meat, extra cheese, and all yours, buddy.” Opening the box, I drop it at the dog’s feet. “Eat up.”
I may not have hit the asshole like I wanted to, but he sure as hell won’t be stuffing his face on my dime tonight.
Leaving Moo to his dinner, I head upstairs. Quinn’s bedroom looks the same as it did the last time I was here; when I gave in and took what I’ve always wanted. Her.
The bed is unmade, the pink sheets and quilt balled up at the bottom corner where she kicks them in her sleep. She has clothes and shoes thrown across the window seat, while the dresser and vanity are covered with makeup and bottles of perfume and lotion. It’s messy, lived in, but organized by her own chaotic standards.
On the bedside table is one of the scented candles she orders from some bath and body place. Something she never travels without.
Dropping the box and drinks to the bed, I catch Quinn’s reflection in the vanity mirror. Her skin is flushed a dark pink, still glistening from the hot water, her blonde hair curly and damp, hanging loosely around her face. No makeup, no jewelry or flash. She’s just Quinn. My Quinn. I’ve seen her this way more times than I can count over the years, but here, now, she’s glowing. She’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her.
“What are you doing in here, Tanner?” Tightening the black towel around herself, she studies me, her brows pinching together in concentration. “I thought you left.”
“Is that what you want?” I ask, instantly regretting the question the second it comes out of my mouth.
“I’m not sure.” Her answer surprises me. “Guess that depends on why you’re here.”
“Because it’s where you are,” I reply honestly. “Needing to be close to you doesn’t need a reason, Q
uinnie.”
“You and Evan work through your lover’s quarrel?” she snorts, heading over to the pile of clothes.
“You know it. Right after I fed Tage’s dog the last of his pizza.”
“Very mature, Tanner.” Turning her back to me, she snatches up a black t-shirt. Tugging it over her head, she lets the towel drop around her feet. The hem lands mid-thigh on her small frame, covering little more than the towel did. “I need you two to work through your shit and get along. For me. For the baby.”
“There’s very little I wouldn’t do for you, Quinnie, but that’s pushin’ it.” I take a step toward her, my fingers itching to touch her skin. “Pretty sure hell would freeze over.”
“Awesome,” she murmurs, turning around to face me while tugging her hair through the stretched-out collar. “Thanks for the effort.”
“That mine?” I ask, recognizing my Shaft shirt immediately.
“Yeah.” Smiling sadly, she looks down at the faded pink letters. “I found it downstairs after you left.”
“Looks good on you, baby.” Closing the distance between us, I brush her hair off her shoulder and tip up her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes.
“I sleep in it.” Licking her lips, she shrugs, the collar of the shirt slipping off her shoulder a little. “It smells like you.”
My mind flashes back to the last time we stood in this exact spot, when seeing her like this in one of Evan’s shirts made me crazy with jealousy. Seeing her in one of mine brings out a whole different set of emotions altogether. Ones that I am not sure either of us are ready for me to say out loud.
“That mean you’re gonna forgive me?” I ask, wrapping my arms around her. “Let me back in?”
Swallowing hard, she looks up at me. “It means I’m giving you the bricks to rebuild that bridge. What you do with them now is up to you.”
“Baby,” I breathe, unable to help the smile that nearly splits my face. “That’s all I need.”
