by RB Hilliard
Her breath hitched as I lowered one knee to the side of the bed. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she half-whispered, half-moaned. It was happening, alright. In fact, if I didn’t get a grip, it was going to happen all over her pretty little stomach, which reminded me that I needed to grab the condom from my wallet. But first, I wanted a taste.
Surprise flickered in her eyes when I suddenly dropped to my belly, pushed up onto my forearms, and began to slither up the bed. When I reached the V of her thighs, I slid my hands under her ass and tilted her hips. The urge to see her face when I tasted her for the first time had me shifting my gaze up her stomach and past her breasts to her face—a face brimming with hunger. I drank in her lust filled expression as I glided my tongue across her opening.
A very unladylike curse flew from her lips, making me smile, making me only want more. Fuck more. I wanted it all. Jerking her hips higher, I dove in. She tasted like hope, like the promise of a brighter future. She tasted like...a song. I closed my eyes and nearly wept from relief. I could hear it in my head. For months I’d been waiting, wanting, wishing for the music to come. I thought it had died beneath the weight of Mandy’s betrayal.
With a groan, Quinn buried her fingers in my hair and began to rock against my mouth. I could tell she was close. I was going to write a million songs for this woman, but first I was going to make her come on my tongue and then...I was going to make her mine.
She didn’t scream like I thought she would. She just let out a low, guttural sounding moan. A moan that shot straight to my cock and echoed through my balls. In a flash I was off the bed and scrambling for my shorts and the condom inside my wallet.
Once I had it in my grasp, I turned to find her up on her elbows, watching me with a satiated smile on her lips. Her stare drifted to the condom in my hand, her smile instantly changing to a smirk.
“Well, aren’t you just the Ready Freddy,” she drawled.
Not wanting her to think that I regularly carried condoms around in my wallet, I told her that I’d stopped off at the gas station on the way home last night and bought three boxes.
Her jaw dropped and then she busted into laughter. “Three? Good lawd, Rock Star, talk about high expectations.”
Shrugging, I murmured “High is better than none.”
She wiggled her finger in a come-hither motion and burst into laughter when I took a running leap onto the bed and tackled her to the mattress. My cock accidentally rubbed against her slit, causing us both to groan. Chills of pleasure circled my balls and squeezed. I needed to get a move on or I was going to embarrass myself.
Quinn’s husky murmur of, “Let me put it on,” only made it worse.
“Next time,” I told her. She opened her mouth to argue, but it was too late. I was already sliding the condom on. Gray eyes darkened with lust as she watched. Later, I would give her a show, but for now, I just needed to be inside her.
Slowly, I dropped to my forearms, lined myself up to Quinn’s entrance, and gently pushed inside. Pleasure rippled through my body as I tilted my hips and added more pressure.
As I gazed down into her eyes, I knew that this was what I’d been waiting for. This was what I’d been missing. I just didn’t know it, until now.
In an attempt to take me deeper, Quinn arched her back. At the same time, she made this noise in her throat, somewhere between a groan and a plea. A noise that almost derailed my self-control. I was trying to take this slow, to make it good for her, but she was making it harder by the second—both literally and figuratively.
“Please,” she gasped, and that was all it took. The sound of her begging while my cock was inside her was more than I could handle, and in one swift thrust, I was buried as deep as I could go. A surprised gasp flew from her lips.
Our eyes locked and held. “You’re perfect,” I rasped.
She blinked. Then she craned her neck up and sealed her lips to mine. With a slight cant of my head, I deepened the kiss. At the same time, I pulled out and thrust back in.
“So good,” she murmured against my lips.
I broke from the kiss long enough to say, “Legs behind my back.” She immediately complied, and I swept my tongue back inside her mouth as I slowly began to build the pace. Neither of us could manage to hold the kiss because we were panting too hard. With each stroke I took us closer to the edge.
“Evan,” Quinn gasped, and I knew she was close.
Not about to come without her, I switched it up, and at the bottom of each thrust, I ground my pelvis into her clit. Evidently, this worked, because she suddenly latched her hands onto my forearms and let out a long, drawn out, sexy as hell moan. A moan that catapulted me straight into orbit.
Waves of mind-numbing pleasure racked my body as I was engulfed by a spine stiffening orgasm. I didn’t realize I was shouting until someone banged on the door.
“Hey, fucker! Keep it down in there! It’s too damn early to be doing that shit!” Chaz shouted.
“Oh, God! I forgot they were here,” Quinn whispered. Collapsing on top of her, I wrapped her in a full body hug, and burst into laughter.
“It’s not funny!” Chaz yelled, but he was wrong. It was more than funny. It was fucking hilarious.
After a humor filled breakfast, where everyone gave us shit for being so loud, we said our goodbyes. Chaz and Olivia were on their way home to New York, while Bobby and Tut were headed to Virginia. The house was all ours by noon.
The housekeeper arrived shortly after they’d gone, and while Quinn instructed her on what to do, I called my attorney, Stan, and told him what I needed. Needless to say, he thought I was insane.
“You want to what?” he screeched. I explained what Bobby and Tut had discovered, how they were on their way to Virginia to confirm their findings, and that we needed to buy time.
“This is a bad idea,” he argued.
“Do you have a better one, because if so, I’m all ears.” As far as I was concerned, the guy hadn’t done shit except for complain. When he failed to respond, I said, “Just do it,” and hung up.
An hour or so later Quinn found me. “You okay?” she asked from the doorway. She had on sweatpants and a black tank top with the words Countryfried written across it in bold pink letters. Her hair was on top of her head in a frizzed-out pony tail and she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup. She was perfect. My perfect.
“Is Linda still here?” I asked, thinking that if she wasn’t, I was going to strip off Quinn’s sweatpants and have my evil way with her.
A slow, very knowing smile spread across her face. “It’s Lowis, and she’s gone.” And just like that, my cock was up and ready to go.
Unlike the first time, I planned on taking things slow. Quinn, evidently, had other ideas, because one minute we were talking about how I needed to remember the housekeeper’s name and the next she was naked and straddling my lap.
“Quinn—”
Rearing back, she speared me with those amazing eyes of hers and said the words I never thought I’d hear, but had fantasized about. “Fuck me, Rock Star.” Well, minus the rock star part, that is. She wanted to get fucked? Who was I to tell her no?
As I dug another condom out of my wallet, Quinn worked on my shorts. In record time, they were unzipped and my cock freed from my briefs. I was going to suggest getting undressed, when the condom was suddenly jerked from my grasp. The sight of her rolling it onto my cock made me lose my train of thought. With lust in her eyes and a look of intense concentration on her face, Quinn lifted up onto her knees and slowly sank down, taking me all the way to the root. Being here, in this house, inside this woman, felt monumental. It felt right...as if my whole life had been leading me to this moment.
Eyes leveled on me, she ordered, “Shirt off, Rock Star. I want to see those tats.” Trying not to laugh at her drill sergeant tone, I reached between us, grabbed the bottom of my shirt, and yanked it over my head. With a satisfied smile, she pulled back and lowered her lips to my nipple. Damn, that felt good. I thought I
was going to explode when she began to outline one of my chest tats with her tongue. At the same time, she continued to ride my cock. How? I had no clue, but I liked it. When the licks turned into nibbles, I had to take a deep breath. The need to come was riding me hard, but I couldn’t tell if she was close or not. Needing her there, I cupped both of her ass cheeks with my hands, and began pumping her up and down my shaft.
“Evaaaaaan,” she groaned.
“Please tell me your close,” I responded on a pant.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to be closer than close.” Leave it to Quinn to say something funny during sex.
Trying to stave off my orgasm for a few more seconds, I replied, “What if I want you to be closer than close?”
Her whole body tensed. I knew what that meant. Not even three seconds later, she shouted, “Yes! Yes! Yeeeeeees!” And just like that, my orgasm hit. Hard and fast, it slammed into me.
After riding out the shockwaves, Quinn slumped onto my chest with a sigh. A moment of silence passed. I thought she might have fallen asleep, but then all of the sudden, her head sprang up from my chest and she captured me with that gray-eyed stare of hers.
“What would you say if I played hooky from work for the next few days or so?” I didn’t want her to get into trouble because of me, but I sure as hell liked the idea.
“Can you do that?”
Smirking, she replied, “I’m the boss. I can do anything I want.”
“Oh yeah, and what does the boss lady want?” I asked.
Eyes glittering with mischief, she answered, “I want you.” Then she sealed it with a kiss.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Brace for Impact”
Quinn
Sex with Evan was like riding a roller coaster with no safety bar or skydiving without a parachute. It was the biggest adrenaline rush I’d ever experienced, an addiction with no possible form of rehabilitation...it was everything I thought it would be and so much more.
Take this morning, for instance. He woke me with his mouth. Good gracious, that man’s tongue could win the best tongue of the century award, if there was one. After that, he gave me his rock star cock and I’m pretty sure I saw Jesus.
I rewarded him with a pancake breakfast and even made bacon as a side. I’m pretty sure I was the only person on the planet who disliked bacon. Later, when Evan left to visit his parents, I drifted through the house on cloud ninety-nine, so high in the air that when my phone rang, I nearly tripped over my own flip-flop to answer it. So high that I didn’t even look at who was calling. I just swiped my finger across the screen and answered, “Hello?”
“Oh, thank God!” the caller gasped. The voice on the other end caught me completely off guard. My mind blanked of all thoughts but one. Why was Amanda calling me?
“Quinn, this is Amanda Walker. Look, I know Evan is living with you...err, at your house,” she corrected, “and I know what he’s probably said about me, but it’s not true. Please, just hear me out.” I didn’t want to hear her out. In fact, I didn’t want to hear her at all. Why was she calling me? We weren’t friends. We weren’t anything. I’d made peace with my decision not to say anything to Evan. Before she could get another word out, I disconnected the call and had a really bad thought. What if she told Evan she knew me? Or even worse, told him we were friends. Anger, followed by a good dose of fear, swept through me. God, what do I do? Do I tell him? Do I not tell him?
While trying to decide, my phone rang again, causing me to shout in surprise. Thanks to Amanda, my nerves were now shot. Unknown caller scrolled across my screen. Unknown was the wrong word for Amanda. Try Bad caller, or better yet, Bitch calling. With a press of my finger, I sent the call straight to voicemail. My hand shook as I scrolled to my favorites and pressed Alex-Ann’s number.
She picked up on the first ring. “For the thousandth time, things are fine. Margo’s is fine. Gretchen and Will are fine. Sam is an ass, but he’s also fine. I—”
Cutting her off, I said, “Amanda just called me.”
I heard her suck in a surprised breath. “You’re kidding. What did the bitch want?”
“I don’t know. She started to tell me that things weren’t what I thought and I hung up on her. She called back. In fact,” I paused to check my phone screen, “that’s her beeping in right now. Shit, Alex-Ann. What if she tells Evan? He’ll think I lied to him.” My eyes began to burn. “He hates liars.”
“Calm your titties, woman. You didn’t know who she was, and when you did—”
“I should have told him,” I inserted. “But now that I’m totally and completely in love with the man, it’s too late.”
A loud sigh echoed through the phone. “You are so overreacting.”
“I could lose him,” I said through the tears that were now falling freely down my face.
Using her stern voice, Alex-Ann said, “Listen to me. That woman is crazier than a shithouse rat. Evan wants nothing to do with her. The likelihood that he’s going to speak to her, much less listen to her spew lies about you, is slim to none. Do you hear me?” I heard her, but the fear of losing the most precious thing I’d ever known, aside from the love of my parents, had a stranglehold on my heart—to the point that all I could do was cry.
“Don’t make me drive over there and paddle your cellulite riddled ass,” she warned.
“You did not just say that.”
“Serious as a heart attack, Quinn, if you don’t stop this bullshit right this minute, I will pack up my car and move to your place. You haven’t seen cockblocking until you watch me in action, sister.” As usual, her ridiculousness made me laugh. Alex-Ann was a nut, but she was my nut.
We talked for a few more minutes before she had to go. This was good as I wanted to hop in the shower before Evan returned.
Of course, he just had to find me in the shower.
“Everything okay with your parents?” I asked as he slid in behind me.
He snagged the body wash from the shelf and squirted a glob of it into the palm of his hand. “Mom’s doing remarkable well for having had a brain bleed. My dad’s still an ass, though.” I started to ask why, but the question died on my tongue at the feel of his soapy hands on my shoulders. In slow, methodical strokes, he began to massage them. When he hit the middle of my back, I dropped my head to my chest, and moaned. Partly because it felt so darn good and partly because of his erection pressing against my lower back.
“Feel good?” he asked.
“Better than good,” I mumbled. He pulled back long enough to tackle my lower back. Slowly, he slid his hands to my front. Soap dripped down my stomach as he expertly massaged both of my breasts. Scooping some of the lather in my hand, I reached behind me and circled my fingers around his cock, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. Smiling, I began my own little massage.
“No fair,” he rasped. The warmth of his breath against my neck caused shivers to shimmy up my spine. When his tongue traced the shell of my ear, my knees threatened to buckle. His lips drifted from my ear to my shoulder while his fingers slid southward down my stomach. This was a first for me, and I wasn’t just talking about the shower, but all of it. I thought I’d been in love before, but I didn’t even know what love was. I gasped when his fingers hit the heart of me, and quickly sped up my strokes. Talk about sensory overload. My head was spinning, my hoo-ha was tingling, and my heart was seconds away from bursting.
I was beginning to lose feeling in my hand, when Evan suddenly paused. In a voice three octaves deeper than usual, a voice laced with sexual tension, with...need, he said, “Turn around, I want to watch you come.” We broke apart long enough for me to turn and face him. Then our hands were back on each other. As his magical fingers played me, I worked him with both of my hands.
In a matter of minutes, he had me close. His smoldering gaze seared through me, only managing to intensify the thrill of knowing that I was about to fall apart underneath his green-eyed stare.
“Christ, you’re gorgeous.” Those thre
e words along with his growly sex-voice was all it took. I was there and screaming out my orgasm.
Seconds later, Evan wrapped his hand around mine and picked up the pace. In hard, fast pumps, he jerked our joined hands up and down his shaft. I couldn’t look away. I was mesmerized, stupefied...enthralled. Forget taboo, this was...hot. I’m talking hotter than a Georgia whore house on dollar day. A long, drawn out groan spilled from his lips as he emptied himself all over my hand and stomach.
When he was spent, I dragged my eyes to his, and said, “That might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Laughing, he pulled me in and laid a hard kiss on my lips.
“Are you going to tell me about your dad?” I asked while we were drying off.
“There’s nothing to tell.” I could tell by his tone that there was plenty to tell, but I didn’t push. I simply walked over to the bed, crawled under the covers, and stared at him.
“It’s like he’s trying to make up for twenty-nine years of mistakes. He’s never doted on my mother. Now that I think about it, he’s never doted on anyone, but there he was, acting like the dutiful husband. Get this, he even complimented one of my tattoos. The man fucking despises tattoos.”
“Which one?” I asked, patting the bed beside me. Long, lean, muscular legs carried him across the room. The knowledge of what we’d just done in the shower, what we were going to do later today, tonight, and in the future to come, made my breath catch in my throat.
Crawling in beside me, he rested his back against the headboard and pointed to the Meltdown symbol tattooed on his forearm. “This one.”
I traced my finger over it. “Maybe he’s changed.”
He scowled. “Men like him don’t change, they adapt. My mother threatened him and now he’s adapting.” His words made my heart hurt. I hadn’t met his father, but I could already tell I wasn’t going to like him.
“Why doesn’t he like your ink?”
“Because it’s what low-class people do. That’s one thing he and Amanda had in common.” Just the mention of her name made me squirm, and I wondered for the zillionth time if I was making a mistake by not saying something. In the end, the fear of losing him stopped me.
