by Cat Mason
The feeling is mutual, fuckwad. Trust me.
Quinn’s blue eyes darken with rage. Her hand cracks across my face, making my teeth rattle. “Fuckin’ bastard,” she snarls, baring her teeth. Grabbing my shoulders, she knees me in the balls. Falling to the floor, I shield my aching cock and balls from another attack as I gasp for breath and try not to puke. “Go to hell and rot, Tanner.”
“What the fuck is going on in here?” Bristol shouts from the doorway.
“Oh, nothing much. Quinn just kicked Tanner’s ass,” Evan says, instantly making me wish I could stand so I could punch him again.
“She what?” Bristol asks, her eyes moving slowly between the three of us as she takes in the scene before her.
“Get me the fuck outta here, before I kill this asshole,” Quinn grumbles, shoving by Bristol and Tage and storming out of the room.
“Quinn,” I hiss, climbing to my feet. “We aren’t done here.”
Bristol presses her hands to my chest. Looking up at me, her eyes fill with concern and understanding. “Let her go, Tanner. Give her a chance to cool off before you try to fix this.”
“Fix this?” I ask in disbelief. “How in the fuck is this my fault?”
Blowing out a breath, she shakes her head. “Sometimes fixing something has nothing to do with accepting the blame, babe,” she says, giving my chest a pat before turning and walking out of the room with Tage.
Without a word, Evan storms out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Dropping to the edge of the bed, I bury my face in my hands, replaying the last few minutes over in my mind, trying to make sense of it all.
Quinn and Evan.
Quinn and fucking Evan.
“Why fucking Evan?”
“Why do you fucking care?”
Looking up, I meet Quinn’s red rimmed eyes as she steps into the room, closing the door behind her. “What does it matter to you who’s in my bed, Tanner? Hell, my own brother never had a problem with Evan when he and I hooked up before and he basically lived at our place during tour breaks.” Leaning back against the door, she blows out a ragged breath.
“He doesn’t belong there,” I ground out, my fists clenching again.
“Oh,” she says thoughtfully. “And who died and made you Mayor of Muffington? Don’t worry, Tanner, the next time I need a good hard fuck, I’ll be sure to send all possible applicants through you first for approval.”
“That’s enough of your smartass mouth, Quinn,” I warn.
“Oh yeah?” Pushing off the door, she shakes her head as she moves closer. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it?” she asks, stopping in front of me and jabbing me in the chest with her finger nail. “Huh, Tanner? You’re not my brother or my daddy,” she challenges.
“You’re right. I’m not.” Yanking her body into mine, I slam my mouth to hers. Her hands come up, pushing against my chest, only to end up fisting my shirt, and pulling me closer. Her tongue darts out to skim my lip before she sinks her teeth into it.
Fuck yes.
Shoving my back to the mattress, Quinn follows me down, not losing my mouth. My hands dive into her hair, fisting the strands as her tongue meets mine. I groan at the taste of her sweetness mixed with coffee and hazelnut creamer. Rolling us, I pin her beneath me, ripping my mouth from hers to yank Evan’s fucking shirt off her. The fact that I can smell him on her skin makes me fucking crazy. “I’m going to remove every goddamn trace of him from your body, Quinn.” Fumbling with my jeans, I free my cock, thrusting inside her pussy without missing a beat.
Her legs wrap tightly around me, her hips rocking up to meet each of my thrusts as I drive into her again and again. Letting out a low moan, she closes her eyes. Slipping her fingers beneath my shirt, she scrapes her nails down my back.
“Fuck,” I hiss, losing all control. Grabbing her hip with one hand, the fingers of my other hand slide up her body to grip her throat. “Look at me, Quinn,” I ground out, my hand sliding around to the back of her neck, to pull her face closer to mine. “I want those eyes on me when you come with my cock buried inside you.”
I need her close, I want there to be no space between us. For fucking years, I have fantasized about this woman, dreamed about having her beneath me like this, but never acted on it. I couldn’t. Her eyes fly open, the deep blue blazing up at me, slicing through me like a knife. My fingers leave her hip, moving between us to find her clit. Her teeth sink into my chest through my shirt, muffling her screams as she comes, the jolt of pain sending me over the edge. Collapsing on top of her, I trail my lips over her neck, sucking at her sensitive skin. I could eat her alive and enjoy marking every inch of her porcelain skin.
“Put some clothes on and get the fuck out here, Quinn!” Greer shouts, pounding on the door. “Since no one thought to capture video evidence, I need you to tell me all about how you couldn’t wait until I got back from my run before you kicked Tanner’s ass.”
Pushing off the bed, I shove my still semi-hard cock back into my pants. Sitting up, Quinn watches me, not saying a word. The gravity of what I have just done weighs down on me. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking think straight. I just fucked my best friend’s sister like a goddamn ragdoll, a girl I have known since the day she was born.
Yanking my hands through my hair, I stare up at the ceiling, waiting for lightning to strike me down, or a sign or some shit telling me that I am not damned to the seventh circle of hell for violating Quinn like some whore I picked up at last call.
Exhaling roughly, Quinn shrugs the t-shirt back on, and stands. “Get out, Tanner,” she says, pointing to the door.
“What?”
“You heard me,” she says, squaring her shoulders. Turning her back on me, she walks around the bed to the padded window seat, flips open her Louis Vuitton suitcase, and starts yanking out different pieces of clothing. “Get the fuck out.”
Opening the door, I stop in the doorway, a million things running through my head that I want to say, but none that would matter. “I’m sorry, Quinn,” I say softly before closing the door behind me, hating myself for what I have possibly just done to her, to myself, and to all of us as a group, because I couldn’t see past needing to have her.
Chapter Nineteen
Green Bean Peen
Bristol
Deciding to run fast and as far from the tension brewing like an impending hurricane inside the house as we could, Tage and I retreat to the sanctuary of the back porch with our breakfast. Once we finish eating, I stack our plates on the small square patio table, and settle between his legs on the lounger while Moo lies snoring on the broken porch swing that has now been dubbed ‘Moo’s Throne’. Pulling me back into his chest, Tage brushes the hair from my shoulder. Resting my head back against him, I sigh comfortably when his arms circle my waist. Leaning in, he begins pressing a trail of soft kisses down my neck. “I could get used to spending my mornings like this,” he whispers over my skin.
“Post-fuck fondles are definitely going to be challenging over video calls,” I say, running my hands up his forearms.
“So,” he shrugs. Nuzzling my neck, he breathes me in, squeezing me tight. “I fly to you.” He presses a kiss just behind my ear. “You fly to me when you can.” Another kiss. “We spend a fuck-ton of hours on the phone, and video chat, talking dirty.” His hands palm my breasts through my shirt. My eyes close, letting the sensation, and his words take over. “I love you, Bristol. I need you,” he says, pressing his lips to my ear. “That isn’t going to change just because miles may separate us. You let me in, gave me space here.” Moving his hand over my heart, he smiles against my skin. “The rest is just details.”
“Sounds like I’m going to have to up my data plan to fuck-ton immediately,” I say, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face.
Looking down the beach, I spot a short, bald man snapping pictures of us. My body goes rigid in Tage’s embrace. “Unbelievable,” I say, shifting in his arms. Standing, I head for the steps. “You have not
hing better to do with your life?” I shout, throwing my hands up above my head and giving him a round of applause. Moo growls, joining me on the steps. “Congratulations, numbnuts! You’re the first to successfully capture a Tristol post-breakfast cuddle. You’re about to change the world!”
“Babe,” Tage says, coming up behind me and grabbing my hand. “Don’t play into the bullshit. That’s what he wants.”
Moving closer, the asshole keeps the camera glued to his face. Each step he takes towards us, only pissing me off more. I can almost hear the fucking camera clicking with every shot I know he is taking of us. “Why were the police called last night, Bristol?” the man asks, stopping at the edge of the fence. “Have another unwanted visitor?”
“No comment,” Tage replies, tugging my hand. “Come on, Bristol.”
“Tage, what do you have to say about Kendall Deters, and her allegations that your relationship with Bristol is all some publicity stunt. That it is nothing more than a jealous attempt to turn the attention away from her husband, and your former team, as they head into the last game of the finals?”
“No fucking comment,” Tage grounds out, squeezing my hand tighter. “Babe,” he says, tugging me toward the door, but it’s too late. I am pissed. How fucking dare this asshole taunt us from the fence like some goddamn playground bully.
“No one cares what that bitch has to say,” I fire back, angry that he had the balls to mention that cumdumpster.
“Uh oh. Sounds like there won’t be any double dates in the future.”
“You got your photos,” Tage says, tugging my hand again. “Now leave.”
“But I’m not done,” he fires back smugly.
“You want my attention, sweetheart? Will that make you feel special?” I ask, ripping my hand free of Tage’s grip. Moving down the steps, I tug my phone from my pocket. Pulling up the camera as I walk, I hit record. Moo stays glued to my side, his strides staying in time with my own. “You got it. Tell me, how does it feel to be on the other end of the lens, you fucking savage?” I ask, pointing it at him and noticing the gold band on his finger. If he wants to be nasty, I am more than happy to let my bitch out to play and hand it right back his way. “You get off on fucking with people’s lives because your wife won’t touch your tiny dick?” Aiming the phone at his crotch, I laugh. “I bet she laughs herself to tears every time she sees you and your green bean peen.”
Lowering his camera, he meets my eyes. “How does it feel to know that he’s only with you because he’s hoping some of that celebrity status you’ve got rubs off onto him?” he asks, gritting his teeth. “Since when did love become a charitable donation?”
“You motherfucker!” I roar. Dropping my phone, I grip the fence with both hands.
“Get out of here, asshole!” Evan growls angrily just as Tage’s arms wrap around me, hauling me back from the fence. Moving quickly, he carries me toward the house.
“Piece of shit,” I spit, kicking and screaming, trying to get free. “If I was interested in handing out pity fucks, I’d call your wife for advice!”
“It was nice chatting with you, Bristol,” the fucker shouts, waving. He beams at me, satisfied with working me up. “We’ll have to do this again real soon.” Stopping at the edge of the fence, Moo growls, baring his teeth. Hiking up his leg, he pisses all over the guy’s sneakers. “Goddamn mutt!” he shouts, jumping back.
“Yes,” I cheer, pumping my fist. “Good boy!”
Moo’s ears perk up at my praise. Wagging his tail proudly, he trots after us, following us inside the house. Plopping my ass down on to the countertop, Tage shakes his head. “Why did you let him get to you with that bullshit?” he asks, running his hands up my arms. “He just wanted to get a rise out of us.”
“And it worked,” Evan says, slamming the door behind him. His eyes narrow in on me, his jaw ticking. “He had another guy in the brush filming the whole goddamn shit show. What the fuck were you thinking, B?”
“I wasn’t,” I reply honestly, my hands still shaking with adrenaline. “I’m sorry. I snapped and reacted before I could even stop myself.”
“Because there’s not already enough eyes on you right now,” Evan snaps, rolling his eyes. “How about we try not to pour gasoline on an open flame, okay? Dammit.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, he blows out an exasperated breath.
“I know it’s hard, believe me,” Tage adds, covering my hands with his. “You can’t let yourself play into their games.”
“I can already hear Vicki bitchin’ her fuckin’ head off about ‘positive spins’ and ‘proactive approaches’,” Evan groans. “I better make a trip to the liquor store.”
“This is on me,” I reply, feeling about two inches tall. “I’ll handle whatever she has to say.” Forcing Tage to step back, I drop down from the counter and put some space between us. I can’t believe they are ganging up on me about this. I was defending him. Us. Now, I’m being scolded for it like a goddamn child. “I never asked you, or anyone else, to take responsibility for my shit, Evan. But hey,” I continue, stopping to pat E’s arm. Looking up at him, I can already feel my eyes starting to burn from impending tears. “Thanks guys for making me feel like shit because my instincts told me to defend something and someone that I believe in.”
Tired of the holier than thou tirade, I head out of the kitchen, and up the stairs to my bedroom. I can feel the emotions threatening, and it does nothing but piss me off. Why is it that I can be angry enough to commit mass murder, but ready to cry like a little bitch? How the hell does this even make sense?
“Bristol?” Tage calls, following behind me.
“I’m fine,” I say, waving him off.
Stopping me at the top of the steps, he grabs my arm. “I think we should talk about this.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, recoiling from his touch. “Listen, I was done talking downstairs. The last thing I want is to bring it up here with me.”
“It?” he asks, raising a brow. “Or me?”
“Both, if it means I have to spend every minute outside this house defending us, only to have to defend myself to you and Evan for not wanting someone to shit on our relationship.”
“That’s the thing, babe. Who gives a damn what anyone thinks?” he argues, raising his voice. “It’s our relationship, not any-fucking-body else’s. They’re going to use anything against you that they think will provoke a reaction.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I shout in frustration. “What I want to know is why we are fighting about this shit? Why didn’t you, of all people, have my goddamn back down there just now instead of siding with Evan? Is this how it’s going to be?” I ask, tears spilling over my eyelids and onto my cheeks. “Are we always going to spend more time defending our relationship than actually having one. How is that fair?”
“Who says life is fair, Bristol?” he asks, throwing up his hands. “Fuck no, it isn’t going to be easy. You have to trust your heart and trust what we have, baby. Know that it is worth it.”
“Is it?” I ask, swiping angrily at my tears. “Or are we fighting a losing battle and just too stubborn to see it?” Taking a deep breath, I will myself to calm down, but I can’t. I am so fucking angry, so hurt, and I don’t like it at all. “I need some space, Tage.”
“Don’t do that. I just got in here,” he says, pressing his hand over my heart. “Don’t put up walls to shut me out just because we hit a bump.”
“This isn’t just some bump,” I say, shaking my head. “Maybe it’d be best if I went back to California.”
“What about us?” he asks, his eyes widening.
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” he asks, grabbing my arms.
“Yes,” I nod. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“So that’s it? You’re going to pack up and run away?” His nostrils flare as he searches my eyes. “You know what, Bristol? Go ahead. Pack your shit. Take your ass back to California and try to prete
nd this didn’t happen. Tell yourself that you won’t miss me, that you won’t ache for the way I make you feel. Promise yourself when you reach out in the night, and find cold sheets, that it won’t hurt like that forever. Make those lies good, baby, but know that you only have yourself to blame.”
His mouth slams down on mine hungrily. I choke on a sob, my lips parting just enough for him to thrust his tongue inside to tangle with mine. Tage’s arms surround me, holding me to him. Growling into my mouth, he pins me to the wall. I pour all I have into kissing him back. I give him all the sadness, frustration, and love I have flooding my heart right now, because I know that this is it. This is goodbye. Ripping his lips from mine, he meets my eyes. The hurt there guts me to the bone.
Without another word, he releases his hold on me. Turning his back, he storms down the stairs to where Moo sits waiting by the front door. With tears streaming down my face, I watch Tage walk out of the house, taking my heart with him.
What the hell have I done?
Chapter Twenty
No Buts
Tage
The bar is busy. With the final game tonight between the Wings and the Jets, we are packed to capacity. None of it matters to me, all I can think about is Bristol, and how I left things. I handled the whole fight badly and have been kicking myself ever since. Evan tore into her, and I wasn’t any better. Instead of hearing her out, I was eager to point out what she should have done differently. I made her feel like shit all because she cared enough to defend me, instead of how it would make her look. Then I stormed out.
Now, she is probably packing up to leave and I am being fucking stubborn when I should go crawling back and apologize. I can’t let her go.
“Flowers,” Unc says, handing food out the window to me.
“Huh?” I ask, handing the order off to Jodi.
“You looked like someone kicked your puppy,” he says, studying me. “You’ll want to fix that. Gonna need flowers.”
“It isn’t that simple,” I reply, grabbing a towel from the rack to wipe up.
