by Aly Martinez
Closing my eyes, I swayed against him. His tongue teased one nipple while his fingers rolled the other.
Pure erotic torture.
My clit pulsed with need.
With his mouth working me toward the edge, it was becoming too much—or, more accurately, not enough.
I guided his hand down my stomach. His eyes flashed up to mine in question. Stepping to the side, I spread my legs wider as my reply. He didn’t delay in dipping between my legs.
My core clenched when he hummed his approval against my breast.
But then it was gone.
His hand disappeared, and then the mouth, and then so did the ground.
With his arms around my thighs, he carried me to the bed. “Fuck the shower,” he cursed under his breath.
I landed on the bed, and a split second later, Quarry’s mouth landed between my legs. He hooked my calves over his shoulders and gripped the tops of my thighs as he devoured me. It was a frenzied feast that alternated between wild licking from top to bottom and back again, only slowing when he thrust his tongue inside my opening, and sucking at my clit before jolting me with an exquisite flick of his tongue.
It was the most unbelievable combination of sensations.
But it wasn’t for me.
This was for Quarry’s pleasure, and judging by the loud growls and purred moans, he was enjoying himself immensely.
It was beginning to drive me insane. Each time I would get close, he’d switch up his technique. The edge of climax evaded me only to reappear, taunting me with an unattainable release seconds later. I was on a sexual bungee cord I couldn’t seem to break.
My frustration was unmistakable, but either he didn’t care or he was too busy ravaging me to notice.
I pulled at his hair—the ache of my clit making the action far rougher than I had intended. Finally, his eyes flipped up, and with one last lick, his mouth disconnected.
“You’re killing me,” I signed, my voice barely able to accompany my hands.
A slow, sexy grin played at his lips. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to come?”
I gave him my best death-stare, but it was rendered worthless when I realized I was also smiling.
He dipped his head and trailed his tongue up to my belly button. “I’d apologize, but you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to taste you.”
My hips lifted off the bed, pleading for him to go back down.
He didn’t—at least, not yet.
After sliding his hands up my stomach, he palmed my breasts, squeezing firmly before gently brushing his thumbs over my nipples.
I greedily arched into his hands.
“I’ve known my entire life that you were beautiful. But this…” He shook his head, at a loss for words. Upon gliding a hand back between my legs, he pushed one finger deep while still rolling my sensitive nipple. His eyes were aimed at my chest when he asked, “You want me to make you come, Liv?” He said my name in what could only be explained as awe.
I did want to come. So fucking badly.
But the way in which he’d said my name, as if he had been in shock that I was actually lying there with him, made me want more.
I no longer wanted the release his fingers or his mouth would surely give me. I wanted the connection of him inside me. His eyes on mine. His heavy weight anchoring me to the bed in the present while our bodies made plans and promises for a future together.
For however long it lasted, I wanted to give Quarry Page all of me.
Even the dark and distrustful parts that would eventually ruin us.
Threading my fingers through the top of his hair, I forced his attention back to my face.
“I’m more scared of you than I’ve ever been of the silence.”
His eyes narrowed, and I knew he couldn’t make out my words without his hearing aids.
But, just like the way he’d taken what he’d needed with his mouth between my legs, this was for me. He didn’t need to hear it. My confession alone was more than enough to release me.
“A part of me died the day you locked me in the closet.”
“Sign,” he urged on a gravelly demand.
I kept talking.
“You made me see that friendship is a farce and trusting anyone other than myself is the biggest mistake I could make. It was a lesson I had been learning my whole life up until that point. But you tattooed it on my soul in a way I could never forget.”
He crawled up the bed until he was hovered over me. “I don’t know what you’re saying. Sign.”
I didn’t. “You are, and always have been, the one person in my life who has the ability to destroy me. For years, I clung to you, knowing that, as long as I kept you close, I didn’t have to be scared of anything else. You, Quarry Page, are the embodiment of my greatest fear.” My vision swam.
He was notably confused, but his face softened. “Please sign,” he begged.
I couldn’t. “Getting into a relationship with you—giving you the few guarded pieces of my heart you didn’t already own is the scariest thing I can fathom. Losing you is frightening. Trusting you not to break me is petrifying.”
His eyes frantically searched my lips for the words I was refusing him. “Damn it, Rocky. What are you talking about? Sign.”
A tear escaped my eye, but a smile tipped up the sides of my mouth and the weight of the world lifted off my chest. “I don’t trust you. And I don’t know that I ever will. I do love you though. So I’m hoping that will be enough…for as long as we last.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he huffed, slapping his hand to the nightstand for the case of his hearing aids.
I tapped on his chest to grab his attention and then finally signed, “Make love to me.”
He squinted at me skeptically, his strong jaw clenching as he gritted his teeth. “What were you just saying?”
“Things every woman thinks in bed. I’m just lucky enough to be able to say them out loud.” I slid a hand between us and gripped his softening cock.
His breath caught as I began to stroke over his smooth length.
He clearly didn’t believe me, but that didn’t matter. For the first time in my entire life, I had admitted to him how I truly felt. I’d never even been brave enough to say the words out loud before.
Those words freed me from the solitude of my fears. I’d still get hurt—that was a given. Now, I could at least enjoy the exhilarating thrill of the rise before the fall.
Leaning up, I took his mouth in a kiss.
It wasn’t sensual.
It was a step forward.
And that’s what made it the most arousing of all.
With a low moan, Quarry gave in to my request and lowered himself over me.
I was forced to release him from my hand, but he was soon positioned between my thighs.
“I brought condoms this time,” he said, trailing the head of his dick through my folds.
Wrapping my arms around his shoulder, I held his gaze. “No. Just you.” I over pronounced to be sure he read my lips correctly.
A boyish grin hiked the side of his mouth even as his eyes became downright sinister. “Always.”
A sharp, euphoric cry flew from my mouth as he filled me. My chin tipped to the ceiling, and my entire body arched into his. His mouth latched on to my neck, nipping and sucking as he worked me with his cock—pushing me higher with every thrust. And, despite how hard I tried to fight it off, my orgasm won out.
As I fell apart around him, Quarry slowed and repeated solemn promises in my ear.
“Every. Single. Day.”
And, if the way my heart swelled was any indication, I think I might have even believed him for a second.
But only a second.
Quarry didn’t follow me over the edge. He worked my body for hours. By the time he whispered my name in release, there wasn’t a part of my body he hadn’t branded with his fingerprints.
He made love to me.
He fucked me.
He held me tenderly.
He stared deep into my eyes while taking me gently.
He took me hard and rough from behind.
The champagne went untouched.
But we eventually fell asleep, naked and sated, drunk in a different way.
Some hours later, I awoke to Quarry once again guiding himself inside me.
I was sore and exhausted and emotionally spent.
But none of that stopped me from spreading my legs and relishing in everything I had ever wanted with him.
It was my month to pay our water bill, but we were at a hotel.
The shower ran all night.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Liv
IT’D BEEN TWO WEEKS SINCE Quarry and I had officially become an item. It hadn’t been a hard transition to make. He had been right. Nothing had changed. Sure, we shared a bed every night, and I had to retrieve a few pair of my panties from under his bed on laundry day. And he’d fucked me on nearly every flat surface in our apartment—and I only say nearly because there were a few I had fucked him on. But, besides that, it was pretty much business as usual for the two of us.
Ash and Eliza had blown up my phone with texts after our date, but I’d downplayed our new full-throttle relationship as much as possible—and then I’d avoided the two of them at all costs. I was still trying to wrap my mind around things between Quarry and me, so the last thing I needed was a barrage of questions I probably couldn’t answer, which would spook me even more. Quarry had caught on to my hesitance pretty quickly, and the first week, he’d even made an excuse so we could skip the Page family dinner. I’d repaid him by adding another flat surface to our growing list.
All was good and well until a stupid magazine published a picture of Quarry and me kissing outside an Indianapolis restaurant. The caption read: Quarry Page and his long-time girlfriend, Liv James, finally caught in action.
After that, my phone exploded—and not just with calls from Ash and Eliza, who had basically already known but wanted details. Calls came from Mom, Dad, Uncle Slate, Aunt Erica, and Aunt Emma, and even Uncle Caleb shot me a text.
Mom was thrilled. (I should also disturbingly note that she squealed in delight when I told her that she’d won a cool grand from the little Quarry-and-Liv betting pool.) My dad demanded I bring Quarry home for a visit. I promptly penciled that into my schedule for the day after Hell froze over. The rest of my family shared the “it’s about damn time” sentiment, but they all seemed genuinely happy to see us together.
Well, except for Ash, who threatened to add murder to her “Newsies List” if I didn’t show up for family dinner that week and fill her in completely.
That death threat was exactly why I was trying to rush out of the community center after my last class. It was time to face the Page family head on.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I asked Don as I shrugged my coat on.
“Quit asking me that. I told you it was fine.” He smiled warmly.
“It’s just, I know I’ve been leaning on you a lot recently. And I know my peanut butter brownies are incredible, but I’m not sure they are adequate payment for as much as you’ve been helping me the last few weeks.”
He laughed, patting his belly. “My expanding gut disagrees.”
My phone pinged in my purse, and I was relatively sure it was either Quarry wondering why I was late or Ash making more threats on my life. I ignored it long enough to gather the rest of my stuff. “Okay, but you will be getting a sweet Christmas gift, so get your list ready for Santa by next week. I’m an animal on Black Friday.”
He laughed again and went back to grading papers.
“Goodnight,” I called to him and Gwen as I headed out.
After pulling my phone from my purse, I checked my texts as I walked to my car.
It was Quarry, but I was wrong about his reason for texting.
Quarry: Why are there 50 boxes of Christmas tree cakes in my closet?
Me: I went grocery shopping.
Quarry: Okay. That doesn’t help. Let me rephrase. Why are there FIFTY boxes of Christmas tree cakes in MY CLOSET?
Me: Okay… Let me rephrase. I went SHOPPING. Does that help?
Quarry: Nope. But where’d you put the shirts that used to be hanging in my closet?
Me: Top drawer.
Quarry: Cool. We’ll discuss the Christmas tree cakes later. I’m running late. Just got out of the shower but I should still beat you to Till’s.
Me: Okay sounds good. Oh and btw…it’s actually 70 boxes but I’m guessing you haven’t seen the ones under your bed yet.
Quarry: Nope. Just found those. However, I’m starved so you’re down to 69 boxes.
I was laughing, typing a message to scold him for having eaten my coveted seasonal snack cakes that were only sold for three months every year—hence my need to stock up—when a voice startled me just before I got to my car.
“About time. I was starting to wonder if I had the wrong place.”
A chill ran down my spine, and my head shot up.
Garrett fucking Davenport was standing on the sidewalk, smiling at me.
“You have got to be shitting me!” I cursed to myself.
He arrogantly sauntered in my direction, popping the collar of his coat for warmth when the wind picked up. Davenport wasn’t a bad-looking guy. He had the tall-dark-and-handsome thing going on; he was just so repulsive on the inside that my stomach churned at the sight of him.
“Liv, it’s so good to see you again,” he purred, closing the distance between us.
It was all I could do not to gag, and while the idea of puking on his shoes held a fair amount of appeal, I was late for dinner.
“You’re wasting your time. Quarry isn’t here,” I sniped, shoving my phone into my purse before pulling my keys out —including the mace my father had insisted I carry at all times.
“If I’d wanted to see Quarry, I would have gone to On The Ropes. I came to see you.”
My shoulders shook in disgust. God, he was slimy.
“Oh goodie. Lucky me.” I clicked the locks on my car and pulled on the handle, but then his hand suddenly landed firmly on the roof, blocking the door from opening.
His tall body menacingly loomed over me, but I refused to respond with fear.
“Fuck off, Garrett.” I tugged on my door again while secretly flipping off the leather strap on the top of my mace.
“I just came to offer my congratulations on your relationship with Page. It’s about time you two came out of the closet.” His hip shifted to lean against the door, the front of his jacket brushing against my shoulder and causing me to shudder.
“Back up,” I ordered, but he didn’t budge.
If anything, he leaned in closer. “Trust me. I get it. My whore has been aching for years to weasel her way into my spotlight.”
My back shot ramrod straight, but I didn’t even have a chance to act before my entire body went on an even higher alert.
Brushing the hair away from my neck, he whispered, “Oh, don’t look so upset, Livvie. You know the entire world is thinking the same thing.”
I had once read an article that suggested, after spending significant time with a person, you started to develop their personality traits. It said that that was how couples evolved together. It wasn’t until that moment that I believed it.
Because, as if I were Dr. Bruce Banner shifting into the Incredible Hulk, a loud roar escaped my mouth and then Quarry fucking Page came out in me.
“You sorry piece of shit!” I yelled, slapping him as hard as I could across the face.
His smile grew ominous as he lifted his palm to his cheek.
“You are a professional athlete. Not a fucking henchman for the mob. You don’t get to show up at my job, talking shit you know nothing about.”
He chuckled without humor. “Your reaction says otherwise.”
“What is wrong with you? You have millions in the bank, women throwing themselves at you
r feet, fans who think you shit gold, and you are standing here, trying to intimidate your opponent’s girlfriend? Really? Who does that shit? I mean, seriously.” I threw my hands up in exasperation. “For fuck’s sake. Man up. Stop acting like a sociopath and get to the gym. It won’t help you win, but it might at least give you a shot at being conscious to see Quarry walk out of the ring with your belt.”
His body hit me so fast that I didn’t even have a chance to brace. My back slammed into the car, jerking as the door handle bit into my spine. He propped himself on a fist, his other going immediately to my wrist. Gripping tightly, he roughly shook until the mace fell from my hand.
My heart was racing as he pinned me against the car.
“You dumb cunt…” He opened his mouth to continue, but I spit into his face.
“Get off me!” I shrieked, fighting against his painful grip.
His nostrils flared, and his gaze turned positively evil, which sent my courage running for this hills.
My body instinctively shrank under his icy stare.
Sucking in a breath, I turned my head and prepared myself for the physical blow that was surely on its way.
“Hey!” Don called. “Get the fuck off her.”
My breath escaped in relief. Don was no match for Davenport, but if I was going to die, at least I’d have a witness.
Much to my surprise, Davenport’s stiff posture melted into me. His hard eyes swung to Don, and he very calmly stated, “None of your business, old man.”
Don fearlessly stepped toward us, his eyes so angry that my body shrank even lower. “Let her go, Davenport. I swear to God this will not end well for you. If her man doesn’t kill you, I can promise you I will.”
Whoa! Don could be scary.
Garrett laughed. It wasn’t daunting or malicious. It was filled with honest-to-God humor, and it scared the shit out of me.
Garrett Davenport wasn’t just a coward—he was mentally unstable.
I closed my gaping mouth as I watched him lose himself in a fit of laughter. His body had slacked, but he still effortlessly kept me pinned to the car.
“It’s appears we’ve been caught, my love.”
Caught?
