by Aly Martinez
“It’s a surprise,” I whispered.
Gripping her hips, I lifted her to sit on the counter.
Her fingers went to the top button of my shirt. It wasn’t a nervous gesture. It was heated and sexy as fuck.
“Is this the suit from the Gala?” she asked before licking her lips.
“Mmm,” I mumbled while staring at her mouth. “It’s my most successful outfit from the Liv James collection.”
“Technically, that would be your boxing trunks, but this is a close second.” She smiled. Then it disappeared, taking the woman I so desperately wanted with it. Her pink cheeks paled, and her hands fell away. “Give me a minute and I’ll change into a dress.”
Lifting her legs around my waist, I inched closer, not stopping until her denim met my zipper. “What just went through your mind? You were flirting and then you shut down.”
“Nothing,” she moaned, shifting away, but I refused her the space.
I cupped the back of her neck and forced her eyes to mine. “What. Happened?”
She tried to shimmy off the counter, but I blocked her.
“Can we just go?” she huffed.
I sighed and closed my eyes, pleading for patience. None was found.
“Are you going to spend the entire night trying to put distance between us?”
Her head snapped back, and attitude filled her masked eyes. “Maybe.”
“It doesn’t matter what I do, does it? You’re going to shut me down, aren’t you?”
She disconnected her legs and leaned away. “I am if you don’t stop acting like a dick.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I shrugged. “Nothing to lose. Fuck it,” I mumbled.
“What’s that supposed to—”
I crushed my mouth over hers. Swallowing her surprised cry, I went to work coaxing her tongue into a rhythm. It only took seconds for my Liv to reappear.
Folding her arms around my neck, she used it as leverage to take the kiss even deeper. Slowly, her hand slid down my chest and into my jacket before gliding around to my back.
She tugged the back of my shirt up until it untucked.
I chuckled as she slid her hands into my pants. Then I groaned as her nails bit into my ass. Cursing into her mouth, I ground my hard cock between her legs.
She gasped then circled her hips for more.
“This is exactly why you should have worn a dress,” I said, finding the seam of her jeans and tracing it up and down.
She threw her head back, and her long, brown hair teased my hand at the small of her back.
“Give me this woman tonight.” My fingers continued to play as I spoke against her lips. “We’ll talk. Figure this shit out. But don’t go into this closed off from me. Give me a chance.” I wrapped the length of her hair around my fist and tugged her head back to catch my gaze. I dragged my tongue over her parted lips then finished. “Give us a chance.”
“Okay,” she panted.
I smiled triumphantly before abruptly stepping out of her reach. “Go put on a dress.”
She blinked at me through sex-fogged eyes. It took everything I had in me not to rip her jeans and fuck her right there on the kitchen counter.
But, as hard as it was for me to remember, I needed to get her on the same page more than I needed to be balls-deep inside her.
Fucking her then would have only been a short-term answer.
Fucking her for the rest of my life was the long-term goal.
“That was mean,” she whined, jumping off the counter and starting out of the room.
I caught her around the waist and pulled her against my chest. “No. Mean would be if I didn’t have plans to make you come on my mouth when we get home.” I kissed her chastely and gave her ass a squeeze. “Go get dressed. We’re gonna be late.”
Her lips lifted in a mischievous grin. “I’ll be quick.”
I watched her saunter away. Concerns that perhaps I was turning into an ass guy passed through my head, and then…
All.
Thoughts.
Were.
Gone.
Liv paused just outside her bedroom door and peeled her sweater over her head. Calling over her shoulder, she said, “I guess this would only be mean if I didn’t have plans to show you the front tonight.”
Son of a bitch!
But…score for tonight!
I fought the urge to throw my hands in the air in victory.
I failed.
Chapter Twenty-One
Liv
OPEN MIND.
No guilt.
It’s not a competition.
Of course I can trust him.
We can do this.
That was my mantra as I walked out of our apartment on Quarry’s arm.
I had replaced the jeans with a modern, red dress with half sleeves and a notched hem. It hugged my every curve like a glove, but the high, rounded neckline kept it classy for whatever five-star restaurant Quarry was planning to take me to. My long hair had been pinned into a loose side-bun, and diamond stud earrings kept the whole look simple yet dazzling.
Open mind.
No guilt.
It’s not a competition.
Of course I can trust him.
We can do this.
“You look incredible,” Quarry told me.
I felt like an imposter.
My clothes. My skin. My heart. Walking out on his arm.
That all fit perfectly.
On a date with him? After having slept with him? After having admitted that I had been in love with him for my entire life? Wrong. So fucking wrong.
I swallowed hard and willed my heart to slow. “Thanks.” I peeked up and found him watching me with every step. My cheeks heated when his smile turned to his signature smolder.
“You excited for the best date of your life?”
“I’m on pins and needles,” I teased.
He barked a laugh and then stopped in front of…Till’s beat-up truck?
“Your brother’s here?” I asked looking around the parking lot.
“Nope,” he answered, running his hand over the rusted-out hood.
Till’s truck was a hunk of shit junkyards probably wouldn’t even allow on the premises. He had other cars and more than enough money to restore it to all of its budget luxury of its heyday, but with the exception of keeping it running, Till hadn’t fixed anything on it. I suspected that it had sentimental value to him. What I didn’t understand was why it was parked in front of our apartment.
Quarry answered my unspoken question when he pulled open the passenger’s side door for me. “Hop in.” He smiled.
“What’s wrong with your cars?” I asked, thoroughly perplexed.
Quarry was a car whore. He paid thousands of dollars each month to rent out four of the small garages our apartment complex offered to store his collection of sports cars. I never knew what was hiding behind those garage doors because it seemed the cars were always different. He rotated through them, trading them in whenever a newer or a nicer one came out.
“Nothing. I borrowed this from Till special for tonight.”
I scrunched my nose in displeasure, which only made him laugh.
“Get in, Rocky. We can’t be late.”
“Valet is going to love this,” I smarted, sliding into the open door.
Quarry twirled the keys around his finger as he circled the front of the truck. With an unbelievably loud creak, the driver’s side door opened, and he slid behind the wheel.
“Here. Put this on.” He lifted a blindfold my way.
I stared at it dangling from the tip of his finger. “Where’d you get a blindfold?”
“Flint said Ash likes to get crazy in bed sometimes,” he said nonchalantly.
Curling my lip, I slapped it out of his hand. “Ew!”
He laughed and scooped it off the floor. “I’m kidding. I bought it today.” He stretched the strap over my head. “Come on. I want to surprise you.”
I glared at him until
he finally understood.
“Oh, right.” He cranked the noisy truck and flipped the radio on. Then his hand anchored to my exposed thigh. “I’m right here. Nothing to worry about.”
He was wrong. That was exactly why I was worried in the first place.
Open mind.
No guilt.
It’s not a competition.
Of course I can trust him.
We can do this.
I sighed then pulled the mask over my eyes.
Minutes later, with a blanket thrown over my lap since the heater didn’t work, we were roaring down the highway.
* * *
“Don’t take it off until I tell you,” Quarry ordered as the truck slowed to a stop. He put the car in park but didn’t cut the engine.
“Okay,” I agreed, shedding the blanket and straightening my dress in preparations to exit the vehicle.
Only that didn’t happen at all.
“Um…yes, I’d like two chili dogs. No onions. Two large fries…”
“Are you kidding me?” I snapped as he continued to rattle off a mountain of fast food.
I went for my blindfold, but he caught my wrists in one hand and locked them together in my lap.
His voice was filled with humor as he finished ordering. “What’s wrong, Liv?” he asked when he was done.
“You made me put on a dress and blindfolded me for chili dogs?”
“Hey, I’m wearing a suit. Imagine my disappointment.” He released my hands and glided his fingers up my thigh. “Fine, I’ll confess. The dress was for me.”
I sucked in a sharp breath when he brushed the bare flesh at my core.
“Oh. My. Fuck,” he whispered.
My mind forced me to back up in my seat in order to escape his touch, but my body had other ideas and uncrossed my legs to offer him more access.
“This…dress doesn’t exactly look good with panties,” I said breathily.
Actually, that might be why I picked it to wear tonight.
After our moment in the kitchen, guilt couldn’t even trump my desire for him.
I could feel guilty for the rest of my life.
I only had one date with Quarry. Or so I’d told myself as I’d removed my panties.
His finger deliciously ran up and down my slit, and I felt the blanket fall back over my lap.
“Are…are,” I sputtered when he found my clit. “Are we in a drive-thru?”
“Drive-up. But no one’s around.”
Oh…I was classy.
I was with my friend’s man, letting him finger me under a blanket at a drive-up restaurant. How old was I again? My thoughts started to win out over my desires. However, just as I convinced myself that this had to stop, he dipped inside.
Screw my thoughts.
My head fell back and my legs spread wide.
“Fuck,” he cursed as his hand disappeared.
He growled loudly. Then his mouth covered mine. The faint flavor of my arousal lingered on his tongue as it snaked into my mouth.
He’d licked his fingers. Dear lord. Why was that so hot?
Slanting my head, I gripped the back of his neck, attempting to pull him impossibly closer.
I felt the blanket pull taut on my lap, but it still covered me. It was as if he had crawled under it with me.
“Shit. I should have ordered more food,” he mumbled as he suddenly moved away.
I heard the manual crank of the window, and then a female voice joined us.
“Hey. How’s it going tonight?”
I giggled as Quarry bit out a frustrated hello.
The crinkle of plastic bags sounded just before they landed in my lap.
“No change. I’m good. Thanks. Have a good night,” he gritted out then promptly rolled up the window. His hand found its way under the blanket again. “I did not need to know you weren’t wearing any panties.” His fingers brushed between my legs again, but he quickly removed them and pulled my dress down.
It was a good thing he was stopping. We didn’t need to be doing that—regardless of how much my body was screaming for more. For a minute there, even my mind had been begging for it.
Which reminded me: I needed to start packing in the morning for my one-way trip to Hell.
“Can I take this off so I can eat?” I pointed to my eyes.
The truck shifted into gear.
“Not yet.” He was reversing when I felt his hand start digging through one of the bags. “Open up,” he ordered.
My legs immediately obeyed.
He barked a loud laugh and then amended, “Your mouth. For now, at least.”
“Shut up.” I rolled my closed eyes and followed his instructions. A french fry landed in my mouth before he dug back into the bag—I assumed for his own appetizer.
Moments later, we were once again roaring down the highway.
* * *
“Hang tight, and no peeking,” Quarry instructed when he cut the engine.
This time, he gathered all the bags of food and then pulled the blanket off my lap before he got out.
I blindly smoothed my hair down and ran my fingers around the outline of my lips to hopefully get rid of any lipstick that may have smeared at the drive-up.
I was so nervous I couldn’t even remember my mantra anymore. Something about an open mind and some other bullshit. However, it seemed like it was a lot more like open legs when I was with Quarry.
“What is wrong with me?” I asked myself over the loud music he’d left playing solely for my benefit.
I loved that he knew that about me.
I loved that I hadn’t felt awkward when opening my mouth for him to shove french fries in as we had driven.
I loved that, despite how uncomfortable I felt about being on this “date,” I was unbelievably comfortably with him.
Really, I just loved him.
And I hated myself because of it.
The cool air rushed through the truck as my door swung open.
“Okay. Come on.” He unbuckled my seat belt and then helped me to my feet. He held my hand as he guided me down the side of the truck. Then he stopped at the tailgate and used my shoulder to turn me away from it.
When he had me positioned just right, he stepped away. “Now you can take it off,” he announced excitedly.
I didn’t waste a second before pulling the blindfold from my eyes. Quarry was standing proudly in front of me with his hands shoved in his pockets. Looking every bit as tantalizing as he always was. I smiled shyly as he popped that dimple with a lopsided smile. I was so focused on his mouth that I barely registered the light of the bus station sign glowing behind him.
“I’ve never brought anyone in the world here before.” He rested his hands on my hips and swayed me forward.
I twisted my lips. “I’m not sure I’m excited to find out that the last place in the world you haven’t taken anyone else on a date is a bus station.”
“No. Smartass. You are the only person I’ve ever brought here.”
I arched an eyebrow in question. He shook his head with a smile and slid his hands under my arms, and then he lifted me to sit on the tailgate.
I expected cold metal, but I was met with a plush fleece blanket covering the bed of the truck.
It was cold, but he tugged his jacket off, draped it over the side, then settled beside me.
I bumped him with my shoulder. “Are you this romantic on all your dates? Or am I just that special?” I teased.
“Just you.”
“I’m assuming there’s a story here?” I motioned a hand to the bus station.
He went to work passing me food, leaving what was left of the fries at the bottom of the bag between us. “Yep.”
“You gonna tell me?” I asked before taking a bite of my hot dog.
He lifted a finger and then finished his dinner in three bites. After washing it down with a large soda, he winked and popped a mint in his mouth. “I should have taken you on our first date at sixteen.”
My smil
e fell, and I lost my appetite completely. Dumping my food in the bag, I became fascinated with the concrete parking lot.
He linked his hand with mine and settled them on his thigh. “This is the date I would have taken you on. I was a broke sixteen-year-old back then. But Till would have let me borrow his truck, and Eliza would have snuck me some money for dinner even if I hadn’t done my chores at home. I splurged on the roses, so you got chili dogs.” He smirked. “Even feeling you up at the drive-up would have happened, and I definitely would have brought you here. Because, if we were going out on a date back then, this place would have been the way I got you back.”
He stopped talking and turned to face me. Then he stole a boyish kiss that made me blush.
I nervously fidgeted with my dress as if I really were that fifteen-year-old girl in the back of his truck.
Quarry laughed then continued. “Two days after my sixteenth birthday, Till and I got into a huge fight because he wouldn’t let me get my driver’s license, seeing that I had a C in Spanish.”
“Y por eso deberías haberme mantenido alrededor,” I mumbled. (And this is why you should have kept me around.)
“Showoff.” He bumped me with his shoulder. “Anyway, I took off. Wandered around aimlessly with no place to go. I was on foot, so it wasn’t like I could make it far, but I refused to go home. I ended up here.” He pointed to a bench just outside the door to the run-down terminal. “I sat there for hours, watching people as buses came in and out. It was crazy, but I started trying to imagine what those people’s lives were like. Were they better than mine? Worse? Did they also have to live under the tyranny of an older brother who actually cared about their grades?”
He shook his fist in the air in humorous defiance. Then his face turned serious again, and he squeezed my hand impossibly tight.
“Did they have parents who loved them instead of abandoning them? If not, did they have a woman like Eliza in their life who, at only twenty-one, became the surrogate mother she didn’t have to be? No? What about a brother like Flint who spent his childhood making sure they were fed and clothed? Were they happy? Did they have a little brown-eyed girl who’d stolen a piece of their soul at ten years old?” His voice was thick, and he paused to swallow. “And, if they did…did they fail them all too?”
