by Lane, Sydney
"Look, Whit, I'm sorry." I take a deep breath and push my cap back on my head. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I shouldn't have brought you up here like this. My words don't bring her comfort. Instead, unshed tears glimmer in her eyes as her chin trembles. And now, I have two crying women on my hands. Holy shit.
I put my hand out, and she accepts it as I walk her down the steps, through the house, and outside. Tears run freely down her face, but she's trying to hold it together.
"Brody, you hurt me." Ouch. I have no idea what's wrong with me because normally, I wouldn't give a shit.
"Whit, that girl up there means a lot to me. I don't know where it's going, but if she'll have me, I can't be doing things like this. I fucked up." She nods, as if she understands, but I see the sadness on her face. "If I hadn't met her, maybe... I don't know. But I gotta sort this out first."
"I get it. I always thought I could change you." Her shoulders drop as she wipes tears from her eyes. "I couldn't. I hope, for her sake, she can." Without another word, she turns and walks away. I suck at this.
Back in the house, I head toward the stairs, not sure what I'll find in my room. My chest clinches tight when I wonder if Quincy is even still there. The crowd parts, and Jenna walks toward me, determined and pissed.
"Outside, Brody." She says jump, I ask how high.
I follow her outside, around the house, and into the darkness. She instantly spins on her heel, jabbing a finger into my chest. "You crushed her, Brody. I trusted you with her, and look what you've done! I fuckin' trusted you!" She's pissed, rightly so, but she needs to back off.
"Jenna! You can't pin it all on me. She's the one who won't make up her damn mind! Back and forth, fucking me, laying on the couch with him. What the fuck am I supposed to do here?" My heart pounds in my chest, each beat in anger and frustration.
"You want to know what to do? You go in there and make up her mind for her." Yeah, right. So simple.
"And just how do you propose that I do that?"
"Show her who you really are. And stop playing games." Damn. Maybe I should have been talking to Jenna all along. By the way she's looking at me, though, maybe not. She searches my face, and I stare back, hoping to show her what I'm afraid to say. "Dammit, Brody. I want to be mad at you, but you really like her, don't you?" I look away, unable to admit it to myself, much less Jenna.
"I guess you could say that."
"Then, go. Go make it right." Her words terrify me, in such an exciting way. Maybe I still have a chance after all.
In my room, I find Quincy asleep, lying on her side, her knees tucked into her body. I have no idea what it is, but something about this girl hooked me and reeled me in. So strong-willed yet so fragile.
Fully clothed, I lay down behind her, tucking her body into mine. I feel her stir as I take her hand and hold her. Our intertwined hands rest against her stomach as we lie in silence, both of us working up the courage to say something.
I speak first. Here in the darkness, I give another piece of myself to her.
“Last night, when I walked in and saw you asleep on his lap, I almost lost it. You were sleeping so peacefully, and it reminded me of how you looked when you were asleep next to me at the cabin. He was touching your hair. And I was pissed. I wanted to kick his ass because he was touching my girl. But you aren’t mine.” My pulse picks up as jealousy rears its ugly head, but just as quickly, it deflates. I feel defeated. "You gave yourself to me, but you don't belong to me." I feel her body tremble as she softly cries. I'm going nuts because she hasn't said anything. Maybe I'm too late. "Talk to me, Quince." I nuzzle into her neck, smelling the delicious scent that is her.
“You hurt me. You say you don’t want to share, but what about me? I don’t want to either.” Her words penetrate my fog. It's at that moment that I realize she's not the only one hurting me. I've been doing a good job of that myself. When she rolls over to face me, my eyes roam over her, this girl who changed me. “Brody,” she whispers my name, her breath warm on my face. I'm studying her face when her eyes widen and she abruptly sits up.
"Oh, no! Jenna!"
She runs her hands through the sheets, searching frantically for her phone. I reach for her, taking her hands in mine. She's so damn cute when she gets flustered. "Baby, I talked to Jenna an hour ago. She knows exactly where you are, and she took care of things with Declan, too.” Saying his name feels dirty.
The party is still raging around us, and all I want to do is lock us away from it all. When I get up and walk across the room, I feel her watching me. I search my iPod for the perfect song, one that says the words I can't. While Maroon 5's Sad fills the air, I realize just how lost I am.
I'm stunned when I turn around. Quincy is kneeling on the bed, watching me, her eyes shrouded in darkness. She slowly slides a leg over the side and to the floor, rising and walking toward me. I know this look. It's the one thing we can agree on.
Stopping in front of me, she gazes up, desire and need on her face. She reaches for my shirt, pushing it over my shoulders. Then, she tugs my undershirt up, and I pull it over my head. Her fingers graze my chest, blazing a trail of heat wherever they touch. My heart pounds to the beat of the music, and my skin hums with electricity. She is so fuckin' beautiful.
Lowering her hands, she attempts to unbutton my pants, struggling with each button. Her hands shake with nervousness or maybe it's anticipation, just another thing I like about her. She's so sweet, untouched, and for tonight, she's mine. When she looks away, dropping her eyes to the floor, I tuck my hand under her chin, bringing her gaze back to me. Her cheeks warm in my hand as I reassure her.
"Same rules, Quince. You tell me if you want to stop." Stepping out of my jeans, I stand before her, feeling more exposed than I ever have, but when those tiny hands reach for the waistband of my boxers and her lips graze my chest, all else is forgotten. My erection is straining between us, and my boxers get caught on me when she tries to lower them. She's embarrassed, but I'm amused. "Let me help you, babe." I push my boxers down and kick them aside.
When she puts both hands on my chest and pushes me backwards toward the bed, I'm eager to comply. This Quincy, taking-control-and-losing-inhibitions Quincy, is sexy as hell. She pushes until the backs of my knees hit the bed, and I fall to a sitting position on the end of the mattress. She licks her lips, concentrating on her movements.
"Sit. This is for you."
Standing before me, Little Miss Perfect slowly slides her dress straps over her shoulders, allowing the light blue fabric to fall to the ground. Fuck me. Slowly, she reaches for her bra, and my patience loses hold. I can't stand it another moment. I have to put my hands on her, needing to touch her, to brand her in this moment.
"No. I get to unwrap the rest. Tonight, babe, you are mine." And I unwrap her little by little, so agonizingly slow, as to savor each moment.
Nearly bare, yet completely exposed, in front of me, she moves to stand between my legs. Pulling her closer, I lower my mouth to her neck, then her breasts, perfect in size and all mine. Her knees weaken as she sags against me, and my arousal becomes painful. I lick, touch, and kiss my way across her body until she pushes me backwards. I lean up on my elbows, watching her move on top of me. With her legs on each side, she straddles me, moving her hips against mine. She still has her panties on, but I can feel her heat and moisture through them. I push my hips up into her, allowing her to explore her own responses.
"Shit, baby. You feel so good," I whisper reassurances, urging her on. Something tells me she needs this, needs to feel as if she's in control, and I let her take me. I place my hands on her hips to steady her, and she begins riding me harder, her back arched, gliding back and forth until she stills in my hands and her body pulses against me. She finds release just when I think I might explode, her small cries making me grow harder.
"I thought you were beautiful before, but damn, Quince, that was breathtaking." When she sags against me, I roll over, flipping her onto her back beneath me. It takes ever
ything I have to leave her there, but I have to take care of business. No way I'm not going to protect her.
I reach for my jeans and search for the condom I know is there. Quincy watches as I roll it on, her curiosity overriding her shyness. When I step between her legs, she parts them, allowing me access. The sudden need to be inside her takes control, and I kneel. I run my hands up her thighs, her skin smooth and warm, inviting my touch. Cupping her ass, I pull her hips up to meet mine. I want her more than I've ever wanted anyone.
"I need you too much, baby." The words are wrenched from my throat as I rip her panties off and throw them to the floor. Now, there is nothing keeping us apart but ourselves.
With one thrust, I bury myself inside of her. My hips grind into hers, each thrust taking me closer to the edge. Our sweat-covered bodies glide over one another, the friction feeding the fire within me. I grip her hips hard, digging my fingers into the soft skin there. Her fists clench the sheets, and she tosses her head back and forth, accepting me, wanting me as much as I want her. Her hips rise to meet mine, thrust for thrust, until we climax together. When I fall on top of her, she wraps her legs around me, holding me close. Eventually, our breathing becomes more controlled, and I fall back to earth.
Rolling to the side, I dispose of the condom. Immediately, my body reacts to the loss of connection. I want to stay buried inside of her all night, but I don't want to hurt her. As I pull her close to me, I feel her stiffen, locking herself away behind her quickly erected walls.
"Stop worrying, Quince." I place a soft kiss on the back of her neck, breathing in the faint scent of vanilla, and whisper, "Night, babe."
Only when she relaxes in sleep do I allow myself to drift away. I feel as if we've finally crossed a bridge, and even though it terrifies me, I'm content. For the first time in weeks, I sleep like a baby.
Chapter 29
I'm awake, but I pretend to be asleep when she rolls over to study me. She thinks she's so sly, but she has no idea that I've been awake, watching her, long before she woke up. Her eyes roam over me, and a blush steals across her cheeks. And suddenly, all of me is awake, if you get what I'm sayin'. When her eyes return to my face, I can't hide my smile.
"Like anything you see?" I can't resist an opportunity to goad her. She's so damn adorable. And sexy as hell with her messy, long hair all over the place.
"I was thinking that even the devil looks angelic when he's asleep." Devil? Yes. Angel? No. But right now, I'll be whatever she needs me to be.
"The devil? Does the devil make you feel like this?" I roll over suddenly, pushing her into the bed beneath me. I roll my hips into hers, my erection pressing between her thighs. And I'll be damned if she doesn't respond to me. I take both of her wrists in my hand, pinning her hands above her head, as I kiss her neck, licking the valley of her throat. "Tell me, Quince. Do you want me to stop?"
She moans, the sexiest sound I've ever heard, and whispers her answer, "Brody." My lips lazily graze her chest, her breasts, and her stomach before returning to her lips. When she locks her knees around my hips, urging me forward, I give in. I linger at her entrance, giving her the reins once more. Suddenly, her hips surge forward, drawing me inside. This is the closest thing to heaven I've ever had. She wanted the devil, but I got the angel.
Afterwards, we lay together, never breaking contact. I must doze off for a few minutes because the sound of voices in the hallway startles me awake. Quincy instantly freezes against me, fear on her face.
"Stop it, Quince. I'll take care of it." Sliding out of the bed, completely nude, I walk across the room to grab some clothes. I can feel her eyes on my back, but when she speaks, it isn't what I expect.
"Brody, is that another fraternity symbol on your back?" Of all of the girls who have seen my tattoo, no one has ever asked what it means.
“The symbol in the middle is the Celtic sign for fate. I got it a couple years ago when I was reflecting on how much our lives depend on fate. We deny it; we may even fight it, but no one can avoid it.” I take a deep breath and exhale. Every time I open my mouth, I give her another piece of me. Of all my tattoos, this is the one that means the most.
I dress with my back to her, knowing that if I look at her again, I may not leave this room. And maybe that would be easier than walking out of here and lying to my brothers. "Get dressed, and I'll be back to get you in a minute." As I open the door and close it behind me, I wish there was a way to stay locked away with her.
By the time I walk through the house, I've brushed off several offers to meet for breakfast at IHOP and agreed to meet for Rush week planning. Eric meets me in the hall, shaking his head. I guess Jenna told him about last night.
"Is she still here?" he asks, a look full of contempt on his face.
"Yeah. I'm going next door to get some doughnuts from Ralph's, and then, I'm going to the Rush meeting. You?" I can only describe the vibe between us as awkward. He's torn between his brotherhood and our friendship. Well, welcome to my world.
"Grab us a few doughnuts, too, and we can leave together. Jenna is still here, so she can drive her home." I can tell he's annoyed, but I'm not about to start supplying excuses. I've made a mistake, but I'm going to make it right. Somehow.
Walking over to Ralph's, I can't erase the smile on my face. Quincy is waiting for me. In my room, right where she belongs. I'm beginning to think I have a thing for her being in my personal space. I have the vision in my head. Quincy can let Declan down gently, whatever that means. We can keep things quiet for a while, and when a suitable amount of time goes by, I can ask her out. For once, I feel things working out, and I don't even try to look ahead.
Doughnuts in hand, I return to the house. Like last night, I take the stairs two at a time; however, this time, I'm excited about what awaits me. I quickly stop by Eric's room to drop off his doughnuts. Maybe it'll earn me some points with Jenna.
Next, my room. Pushing the door open, I find Quincy looking at the pictures pegged to a corkboard above my desk. She startles, turning toward me, but smiles when she sees me. I could so get used to this.
"Guess what? We are alone except Eric and Jenna, and..." I pause, bringing the doughnuts out from behind my back. "I brought breakfast." She grins, clasping her hands in front of her. When she does a cute bouncy thing, my heart flips in my chest. "You can thank me later." And by 'later', I mean today.
We sit on the floor together, devouring the best butter twists known to man, licking the glaze from our fingers. Neither of us speaks, but we don't have to. Our bodies do it for us. Every touch, every glance, electricity sparks between us.
A loud knock on the door breaks the sexual tension that we're drowning in. Quincy jumps, nervous as a cat, but I'm not surprised because I already know who it is. I've brought her the next best thing after doughnuts. Jenna. When I open the door, Jenna steps in, her eyes darting between Quincy and me.
“Now that you are in good hands, I have to go meet the guys to work on some Rush week stuff." I lean down and place a kiss on her head before I walk to the door. "Later."
Before the door even closes, the chatter starts. I know they're in there trading stories, and even though that should bother me, it doesn't. I know girls have the innate desire to share secrets and bond with each other. I just don't get it.
Chapter 30
I haven't been able to wipe the smile off my face since yesterday, and I'm sure it was obvious to the guys. Seth scowled at me all day, and Eric tried his best to ignore me. Nothing could ruin my mood. I'm in it to win it.
I woke up early this morning, and I have a surprise planned for Quincy. I hate mornings, and under normal circumstances, I have to drag myself out of bed. I lay awake all night, planning this little adventure in my head. Today is not about sex. It's about getting to know Quincy, but if sex happens to be involved, I won’t be opposed. Show me a guy who would be, and I'll sell him a unicorn.
I wait as long as I can before picking up my phone, finding her in my contacts, and hitting the call button
. When she answers, her voice hints of hesitation laced with curiosity. Well, she'd better get used to it because today is all about surprises.
"Mornin', Quince. Did I wake you?" I can't hide the childlike excitement in my voice.
“I’m conscious and breathing, but I haven’t convinced myself to get out of bed yet. Why? What’s up?” Her voice is grainy and hoarse, lacking morning cheer. So, maybe Little Miss Perfect isn't a morning person either.
“Can you be ready in thirty minutes? I’ll pick you up.” Please say yes, please say yes, please...
"Um, sure." I can hear movement in the background, and her voice grows cautious. "Where are we going?" Nope. Today is about surprises, and I really think she'll like what I have planned. I don't know much about her, but I know she loves nature.
“To the cabin. I’ve got something to show you. Be prepared to swim.” Now, I only said I wasn't trying to get her naked. I didn't say anything about getting her in as little clothing as possible.
"Ok. Gotta go. See you in a minute.” She's in a hurry, and if I know anything about girls, I would bet my Jeep that she's running around trying to figure out what to wear. I couldn’t care less about what she has on. Seriously, I only remember how she smells and the feel of her skin against mine. I can't remember what she wore when. Well, except for a certain pair of cowboy boots I wouldn't mind seeing again.
I throw on a cap and get dressed quickly, rushing out the door before anyone notices I'm gone. It's just easier that way. No lying. No excuses.
At Quincy's dorm, I wait out front, hoping she doesn't back out. When I see her bounce down the steps, I am captivated. She looks amazing in simple shorts, a tank top, and hiking boots. Again, no make-up. Well, not that I can tell. Some girls have learned the art of putting on make-up to make it look like they aren't wearing any. I don't think Quincy is one of those girls.
She hops into the Jeep, and I pull away. We don’t make it out of parking lot before the questions spill from her lips. "So, what do you want to show me?" Again, a little excitement mixed with anxiety. Without thinking, and totally by instinct, I reach out and pat her thigh, my thumb grazing the soft skin there. It feels so natural, like maybe she really does belong to me, that I leave it there for a few minutes, taking her in.
