by Monica James
My hand timidly slides up his rocky abs, and when I reach his nipple, I tug on the piercing lightly, which earns a quick hiss from Quinn.
“I want you.”
Quinn’s chest exhales in relief and he swoops forward, kissing me fiercely. His hand lazily walks up my leg, and ever so softly, his fingers begin rubbing over my center through the soft cotton of my pajama bottoms.
I rocket off the bed as I feel his wicked fingers on me.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his hands stilling, his eyes searching mine deeply.
“Yes,” I croak, my body shuddering with every stroke.
He bites my lip and slowly glides his fingers down the waistband of my shorts, his two fingers gliding up and down my slippery entrance lightly.
My eyes sink to half mast because if I look into his emerald jewels, I will explode before he even seeks refuge inside of me.
Quinn kisses my chin as he inches a finger into me, and I choke back a sob of pleasure. He begins moving in and out, slowly at first, but as I reach down and grab onto his wrist with a death grip, encouraging him to move faster, he obeys.
I am shamefully riding his hand, my mouth parted in ecstasy, and I’m not at all embarrassed of this moment of vulnerability, because it’s with Quinn.
“You okay?” he whispers breathlessly.
I nod, as I can’t speak.
He then inserts another long finger, stretching me further, and my back bows off the bed, as I’m about to detonate. When his fingers dance over me, I can see why people get addicted to this feeling, because I am now an addict.
A Quinn addict.
Quinn leans forward, consuming my mouth with his, his soft hair brushing my cheeks, and everything is too much. I am close, and Quinn knows it. He can read my body like he’s done this a million times before, and as he brushes over my center with a quick flick, I explode in a thunderous scream. I slump into a messy, noisy heap, my heart beating wildly.
It isn’t until I feel Quinn kissing my cheeks softly do I open my eyes, coming down from my post orgasmic heaven. I watch him carefully as he brushes the hair off my brow, his chest rising and falling quickly, and I realize he probably also needs some kind of release.
But I don’t know how.
He must be able to read my worry as he traces my eyebrows with the finger that was seconds ago buried deep inside me.
“That was the hottest thing I have ever seen. You coming because of me, because of what I was doing to you, holy fuck. I could make you come ten times a day, and I still wouldn’t get enough,” he confesses hoarsely.
My legs go weak at the thought, and I hate to admit that it still wouldn’t be enough for me either, as this feeling is surreal.
We are quiet for some time, and I can’t stop thinking about how this changes things between us. Well, it changes things for me; I just hope it does the same for Quinn.
I wince when he brushes over the graze on my forehead. His eyes darken and I know he is reliving tonight’s memory.
“You need to report what happened to you,” he says seriously, ruining my bubble of bliss.
There’s no way I can do that, as going to police will require me to divulge personal info, which will turn me into the culprit.
“No way,” I reply, sleepily.
“Would it have anything to do with the Colt you’re carrying?” he asks, waiting for my reaction.
“What? How do you know I’m carrying?” I ask, my voice rising slightly. “Not that there is anything wrong with carrying a gun,” I add. “A girl can never be too sure when she may need it for protection against snooping, peeping toms.”
I know I should be concerned that he’s been snooping around in my things, but funnily enough, I’m not.
Quinn’s mouth twitches as he doesn’t fail to see the significance of my comment.
“That’s true,” he replies, but I know those inquisitive eyes will figure out what I’m hiding sooner or later.
Hopefully, it’s later, rather than sooner.
Chapter 26
Unbroken
I only wake because the bright sun is peeking through the sliver of curtain, which conveniently hits me dead center in the face.
It takes a minute for my foggy, sleep deprived brain to scan through the events of last night. And I can’t help but blush when thinking about what happened between Quinn and me.
Wow.
I remember how gentle he was, something I never thought he’d be after seeing him and Amber together. But he did say it would never be that way between us. Now, I’m totally curious as to how things would be between us.
“Mornin’, Sleeping Beauty.”
Lost in Quinn thoughts, I fail to notice him in my room. He’s obviously had a shower because his hair is wet and tousled from towel drying, and I feel a little self-conscious about last night. I flush when I notice him smirking at me.
“Nice shirt,” I say, my eyes dropping to the Alice in Chains t-shirt he is wearing. Although it looks amazing on him, I prefer him topless.
He smirks while slipping his belt through the loops on his jeans. “Thanks, I own one just like it.”
I cock an eyebrow and notice the hem is frayed in the exact same spot as mine.
“Hey! That’s mine,” I say, mouth agape as I sit up in bed, the blanket pooling around my waist.
Quinn’s eyes drop to my chest, and a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his hands stilling on fastening his belt.
I look down at what has captured his attention, and roll my eyes.
“My eyes are up here.” I faux sigh, as it’s cold and I am totally headlighting him.
His eyes are still fixated on my chest as he replies, “I know where your eyes are.”
I can’t help but smile as this is the exact same conversation we had when we first met. Who would have thought we would be having another, three weeks later.
To distract myself I stretch, and wince when I realize I’m a little sore. Funny how I felt nothing but pleasure last night.
Quinn notices my reaction and sighs, finally quitting with the ogling.
“Red, I wish you’d change your mind about going to the police.”
I shake my head stubbornly. “Not gonna happen.”
“Why not?” he questions, sitting at the end of the bed, tugging my little toe, which is peeking out from under the covers.
Because I’m a fugitive, I adlib.
“Because Brad’s dad is the police. What would be the point?” I settle for instead.
“They’d only have to take one look at your face and know you weren’t lying,” Quinn says, eyeing my forehead, his nostrils flaring with each heavy exhale.
“And they’d only have to take one look at his and see what a great job you did of it, and he could claim it was self defense. That we both jumped him, and he was only protecting himself.”
Quinn is quiet as he knows there’s truth to my words.
“I just hate that he’s out there walking around after what he did to you and Tabitha.” He clenches his fist, which cracks in protest.
“I don’t think he’ll be walking around for the next few days,” I say with a small smile, thinking how he was lying in a bloody heap when we left him. “Anyway, I’ve been through worse.” I lower my eyes.
Quinn traces light circles over my ankle, and I shiver under his touch.
“One day you’ll tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” I reply softly, wishing it could be different between us.
Thankfully, he lets it go.
“Let’s go raid the kitchen,” he teases, lightening the mood.
I return his smile. “Sounds like a plan, seeing as I’m—” I look at the clock on the wall, “—late for work!” I throw off the covers and run into the bathroom, Quinn’s chuckles sounding behind me.
***
I’ve showered and gotten ready in record time, and both Quinn and I are out the door in fifteen minute
s. It feels weird walking alongside him after everything that has happened. I don’t believe in fate or destiny, but as I sneak a peek at him, my mind might be swayed in thinking otherwise.
From the moment I saw him, I knew he was going to create a splash, but I never thought he’d cause a fucking tsunami.
His hands are dug deep in his pockets, and thankfully, his attitude hasn’t changed too much toward me, as I don’t think I could deal with too much, too fast. I’m still coming to grips with the fact I was squirming underneath him like a dog in heat, and didn’t bat an eyelash about it.
“Whatcha thinking?” Quinn asks with a chuckle.
“Nothing,” I reply, brushing my hair behind my ear, totally embarrassed.
“That didn’t look like nothing.” He chuckles, bumping his shoulder into mine.
When I don’t reply, and the only thing that can be heard is a few squawking birds and the gravel crunching under our shoes, Quinn laughs. “You can admit you want me.”
My eyes widen as I look at him. “Oh, shut up,” I reply with a smile.
Quinn toys with his lip ring, his eyes narrowing from the early morning glare.
“It’s okay, Red, I know I’m irresistible.” He ducks out of the way when I try to punch him.
I know Quinn is doing this to lighten things up between us after last night.
It’s worked.
We both stroll into the office chuckling, but stop as we hear Grandpa talking on the phone, his back turned to us.
“No, you cannot come here to view the property. I said I would get the money to you, you leech!”
Both Quinn and I freeze, as we’ve never seen Hank so riled up.
“You can’t take this place from me, it’s my home,” he says with a sigh.
My heart drops into my stomach and I look at Quinn, who looks just as taken aback.
After a few choice words, Hank slams down the phone and rubs the back of his neck.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you eavesdropping isn’t polite?” Grandpa says with a small smile, turning to face us.
How can he be smiling right now?
“Hank, what’s happened?” I ask, taking a step toward the counter, reaching out to touch his arm.
I don’t even question my actions anymore, as they feel natural. I’m here for Hank, just as he has been for me.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” he replies, his eyes softening when he notices my distress.
“Bullshit! Stop being so stubborn and tell me,” I bark, hands on hips.
Both Grandpa and Quinn let out a chuckle.
Grandpa rubs his crinkled brow, and I can see how this situation has weighed heavily on him.
“I’m behind on my payments. I got ninety days to come up with twenty-five thousand dollars, otherwise the bank repossesses the motel.”
I gasp, and that heavy feeling in my guts returns. I also feel like a total ass for accepting money off him. He paid me, even when he couldn’t afford it, and my heart constricts at the sentiment.
“That’s not going to happen,” Quinn says, snapping me back to reality.
Hank smiles, but he doesn’t believe a word Quinn is saying.
“Thank you, son, but I don’t have that kinda money floating around.”
Quinn shakes his head, his long hair slipping into his eyes.
“We will get you that money,” he says confidently.
“How?” I ask, intrigued, turning to look at him.
“We’re going to fix this place up and you’re going to be so busy, you won’t know what to do with yourself.”
I like his way of thinking and turn to Grandpa, nodding.
“I’m sure if we did the place up a bit, just like how Betty had it—” I hope I’m not overstepping a line by mentioning her “—You’ll be busy again, and be back in business.”
Tears begin welling in his eyes, and he shakily brushes them away.
“You’re both good kids but…”
“Not buts,” I interrupt, shaking my head. “This is happening. And you won’t be paying me anymore money.”
“But…”
“Not buts,” Quinn says, beating me to it.
I poke my tongue out at him and he chuckles.
Grandpa looks between Quinn and I, and I can see the appreciation reflected in his kind eyes.
As he clears his throat, he says light-heartedly, “Well, looks like I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
Both Quinn and I reply in unison, “You don’t.”
***
Quinn has offered to drive me to work, but the closer we get to the diner, the more anxious he becomes.
Finally, I break.
“What’s wrong?”
His eyes are focused intently on the road ahead as he shrugs.
“Cut the crap,” I say, stopping him from pulling that excuse with me.
His mouth dips into a lopsided smile.
“It’s just… what we did last night. Can you not tell Tristan until I talk to him?” he says, meeting my eyes carefully.
“Well, I wasn’t planning on divulging the details of you having your hands down my pants, so we’re good,” I reply, a little huffed.
Quinn smiles. “I know that. I just meant, I don’t want him to see us together… until I explain.”
I turn to face him, adjusting my seatbelt, which is choking me all of a sudden.
“Are we? Together?” I clarify shyly, because I have no idea what last night means.
Quinn scratches his stubbled jaw, his eyes focusing back on the road.
“I dunno. What do you want?” he asks after a pregnant pause, turning to look at me again.
“I… like you, Quinn. You’re annoying as all hell, and not very nice to me most of the time.” He chuckles at the stab. “But I like you. I dunno what that means… but I know I’d be sad if—”
“If what?” he asks when I clam up.
“If I didn’t give this a chance. But there are things about me, Quinn… things that I can never tell you. Stuff that you don’t want to know,” I add quietly.
“How do you know that?” he asks, his brow furrowing.
“Because trust me on this. I know. I don’t even wanna know,” I say, closing my eyes briefly, wishing things could be different.
“We’ve all got skeletons in our closets, Red,” Quinn says, and I try not to recoil at the accurate description of what’s lingering in mine.
We pull up into the car park and things get kind of awkward.
“When will I see you again?” I ask, trying not to sound clingy or possessive.
Quinn hesitates, and my stomach drops.
“Tonight, Red. I promise you. I won’t go MIA on you again.”
I really wish he would stop using that phrase.
I exhale softly. “Cool.”
My hand is braced on the door handle when Quinn reaches over, pulling me toward him. I slide across the bench seat, and end up being pressed against his firm side. The warmth radiating off his body heats me in an instant, and I try not to hyperventilate, thinking about the prospect of kissing him again.
“Have a good day,” he says, inches away from my face.
“Y-you too,” I reply, falling over my words.
He reaches forward and thumbs my bottom lip, his eyes engrossed on my mouth. “I don’t know what it is about you,” and he leans forward, kissing me until I almost pass out from lack of oxygen.
Quinn doesn’t just kiss, he devours, and I can’t get enough.
After a minute of making out, he pulls away. “You better go.” The pure black of his irises alert me to the fact he’s as turned on as I am.
Nodding with scarlet cheeks, I hop out the truck, not looking back.
Quinn’s engine roars out of the parking lot, and I don’t think anything is sexier than a guy who can handle a truck.
As I open the glass door, I see Tabitha is waiting for me by the counter and looks like hell. Poor thing, coming down is never fun. She runs toward me and throw
s herself in my arms. I step back with the momentum.
“Oh, Paige! Thank you. I can’t thank you enough.” She begins crying.
“You okay, Abi?” I squeak, as she is cutting off my oxygen supply.
She nods, her soft hair tickling my cheeks. “I am because of you, Tristan, and Quinn. Tristan said Brad drugged me,” she says, pulling away, whispering the word, ‘drugged.’
Nodding, my mouth dips into a frown. “He did, Abi. He’s a lowlife jerk, and he can get away with this shit because his dad is the Sheriff. I’m so sorry you went through what you did.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be okay because of friends like you guys,” Tabitha says, wiping her red rimmed eyes.
I’ve decided not to tell Tabitha or Tristan what happened with Brad, as it’s something I just want to forget.
“Are you busy tonight?” she asks, linking her arm through mine as we walk to the locker rooms.
Shit, I’m not sure. Quinn said he would see me tonight, but didn’t stipulate where or when.
“Nope,” I reply, knowing Tabitha needs some company after last night.
“I wanted to take you, Tristan, and Quinn out to dinner,” she says as we walk down the hallway, arms still linked.
“Abi, you don’t have to do that.”
We both turn to see Tristan is behind us, looking very businesslike with a pencil behind his ear.
As soon as I see him, I suddenly get a serious case of the guilts and lower my eyes.
“How are you feeling?” Tristan asks, trying to grab my attention.
“I’m okay,” I reply, my voice wavering as I meet his eyes.
“Quinn got you home safely?” he questions, his eyes narrowing, confused by my sudden jumpiness.
“Yeah, he did,” I reply, brushing my hair over my forehead, hoping the thick makeup conceals the killer bruise I have hidden underneath.
There is an uncomfortable silence, and Tabitha picks up on it straight away.
“Okay, so…” She claps her hands. “Dinner tonight will be fun.”
Not.
***
I breezed through work without my mind wandering to Quinn too often. And that’s because it felt wrong every time Tristan smiled at me, or pulled me in for a hug.
