Fireline

by Annabel Allan

  ‘I guess a lot of nookie has been going on,’ she said playfully.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, nodding. ‘He has me doing lunch every day with him.’

  ‘Emphasis on the doing,’ she said with a mischievous smile.

  ‘Ha, yeah,’ I said. ‘How is work, though?’

  ‘Oh, work,’ she said. ‘Really busy, always have a function to go to, something to do, phone calls to make. Busy, busy.’

  ‘Sounds like it. I’m surprised you had time for tonight,’ I said.

  She nodded. ‘I was surprised too, but I haven’t been to see a film in so long.’

  My eye widened. ‘You, Michelle, not able to see films? God, you have been busy.’

  ‘I know, but at least the money is good,’ she said.

  We drove to the Scotia Bank Theatre, getting our tickets and heading in. I tried to keep quiet because Michelle hadn’t seen the movie either. Of course, it didn’t really stop us from talking here and there.

  We headed back to Michelle’s car once the movie was over.

  ‘So, anything interesting happen lately?’ she asked.

  ‘I saw Ryan at the gym,’ I said.

  ‘Uh-oh,’ she said, getting into the driver’s seat.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I bet Quinlan didn’t like that,’ she said.

  ‘He was surprisingly cool about it.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ she asked, starting up the car. ‘I guess rehab really did change him.’

  ‘I don’t think it changed him, more of mellowed him out. I think he knows I won’t take any crap from him. He knows he hates it when I think he doesn’t trust me.’

  ‘But the Ryan thing is a sore spot,’ she said. ‘I can understand why he doesn’t like him. Even I don’t like him.’

  I nodded. ‘I know. Come to think of it, no one really likes him. I know I don’t. I hate that he keeps popping up. I wish I could squish him like a bug.’

  ‘Well, you definitely shouldn’t have to uproot your life or routine because of him. I say fuck ’em. Just do you. Go to the gym, if he talks to you, tell him to fuck off.’

  I laughed. ‘I think I will! You’ve got me feeling empowered.’

  ‘That’s what I’m here for,’ she said with a shrug.

  She dropped me off at the condo, rolling down the window and peeking out.

  ‘I think I have the weekend off, so we should do lunch,’ she said.

  ‘On Saturday. Sunday I’m booked; I’ve got that barbeque at my folks’,’ I said.

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’ll text you!’

  ‘OK!’ I said, smiling and waving as she pulled off.

  I made my way into the building. I got on the elevator, using my key to put it on service and ride smoothly up to the penthouse, feeling pretty spiffy that I could do it now. I walked in to see dozens and dozens of red roses around the apartment. Just dozens of them! They were on the couches, on the side tables, on the dining table. Everywhere.

  My eyes went wide, my mouth dropping open. ‘Whoa.’

  There was a big bouquet on the bar, a note stuck in it. I grabbed it, reading Quinn’s smooth writing.

  Bedroom.

  I licked my lips, my whole body getting an intense shiver. I could only imagine what was waiting for me.

  I quickly took off my jacket, tossing it on one of the chairs, careful not to hit the roses. I grabbed one from the bunch, making my way into the bedroom, where sure enough, Quinn was waiting, laying on the bed completely naked.

  I smiled as I leaned against the doorframe. ‘Usually it’s me in that pose.’

  ‘Is this romantic enough for you?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh yeah. I guess this is the part where you make love to me all night long?’

  ‘And well into the morning,’ he said, reaching out, taking my hand and pulling me down on the bed.

  ‘You have work tomorrow,’ I said, as he looked deeply into my eyes.

  ‘Then I’ll be tired at work,’ he said. ‘You’re cramping my romantic style.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I said playfully, wrapping my arms around him as he kissed my neck.

  He stroked my thigh and up my stomach, grabbing hold of my left breast and massaging it as his lips pressed against my neck sensuously. He was slow, making my skin tingle from each touch, his lips soft and his tongue delicately catching me every so often.

  He put his hand under my shirt, feeling around. ‘Front or back clasp?’

  I couldn’t help giggling. ‘Front.’

  He nodded, going back to kissing my neck as his fingers worked the front of the bra, easily slipping the clasp out. His hand eagerly found my chest again, kneading it gently before taking my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing it. I pushed my hips up, my breathing picking up as his grip got tighter, letting go suddenly.

  His hand moved down to my jeans, his mouth to mine as he pulled the zip down.

  ‘I think we need to get you out of these clothes,’ he said.

  I smiled, heat breaking out on my skin as his voice seemed to trail right up my spine. I felt a little tingle in my sex, eager to have him inside me.

  He helped me take off my jeans, his hands smoothing up my bare thighs, his eyes on mine as he pulled off my panties.

  He kissed my stomach, making my breathing pick up, running my hand through his hair as his lips touched me. He moved down my torso, pushing my legs open, his face close to my sex. He planted soft kisses on it, just as he had the rest of my body. His tongue then slipped inside, brushing against my clit for only a moment, causing me to jump.

  His fingers slipped inside, slowly massaging my G-spot with come hither motions, the movements making steady pulses throughout my body. He paid close attention to my movements, my breathing, which picked up with every pleasurable pulse.

  He surprised me, leaning up and kissing my stomach, my hand going to his hair, my hips moving in time with his fingers, which didn’t let up. Before I could say I’m gonna come, he withdrew his fingers, licking them clean as I watched. I couldn’t help gasping in delight.

  He moved up my body, his lips finding mine in a heated kiss, my body warm and tingly from being so close to coming.

  He pulled away from me. ‘Do you want me inside you?’ he asked throatily.

  I nodded, keeping my eyes on his, the clear green seeming to suck me in.

  He grabbed my legs, making me think I was going to put them on his shoulders, but he shook his head. ‘Just wait,’ he said, getting on his knees. He pulled my hips up, the angle making me pant as he filled me up. He grabbed my hips, pulling them up even higher, pointing to my legs. ‘Squeeze them together, keep them straight.’

  I did as he asked. He let out a moan, wavering for a moment. He held onto my hips as he began to thrust, both of us letting out loud moans.

  ‘Jesus, Quinn,’ I managed.

  ‘Should I stop?’ he asked.

  I shook my head. ‘Go faster.’

  ‘I can’t; I’ll come if I do,’ he said, thrusting slowly, his hands gripping onto my hips harshly.

  I kept my legs as straight as possible, looking to my feet as I threw my head back, a little agitated that he wasn’t going fast enough. He could sense the agitation, picking up the pace until he was moaning loudly with me, then slowing down, shaking his head.

  ‘I’m going to come if I go that fast,’ he said breathlessly.

  ‘Then come,’ I panted. ‘I’m close.’

  He took a deep breath, letting it out before he started again, the pulsing starting to rock through my body, his speed increasing until he was pounding into me.

  ‘Shit,’ he said, obviously trying his hardest to hang on while my climax started to build.

  I moaned loudly, sounding like I was in pain, whimpering as he didn’t let up. I swallowed hard as I grabbed hold of the sheets again, my fists clenching as the pulses started to pull the pleasure out of me.

  ‘Oh God, Quinn,’ I breathed, my orgasm exploding, my legs bending at the knee and resting on his shoulders
as I called out, throwing my head back.

  I could see the relief on his face as he let go, letting his own orgasm overtake him, his grip moving from my hips to my thighs, thrusting slowly until he quieted and stopped, our heavy breathing filling the room.

  He pulled out of me, pushing my legs apart and kissed me, his mouth hot. I wrapped my arms around him as he collapsed on top of me.

  He kissed my neck once again, taking his lips away just to breathe, making me shudder from head to toe. It seemed all he needed to do was breathe on me to thrill me no end, the sounds of his ragged, satisfied breathing filling my ears hotly.

  Chapter Six

  I frowned as I ran my hand through my hair, down and straight with a little body from blow drying it. I knew it would fall flat within the next few minutes, so I tried to enjoy it as much as possible, especially because I knew that there was little else I was going to enjoy about the evening.

  Quinn walked up behind me, adjusting his tie in the bathroom mirror. ‘Are you going to get changed?’

  I pouted, looking to my bra and panties. ‘I don’t want to go.’

  ‘Well, too late now. We can’t cancel last minute,’ he said, kissing my cheek. ‘It’s best just to get ready and get it over with.’

  ‘Fine,’ I said, frowning as I left the bathroom, finding my shimmery gold dress laid out on the bed, the flowers patterned on it coming to life in the light. I sighed, knowing I wasn’t going to get out of it.

  Might as well get dressed.

  I picked up the dress, a little tight, needing to shimmy myself into it. I turned to Quinn, moving my hair out of the way.

  ‘Can you zip me up?’

  He did as asked, then he stroked my shoulders, the little sleeves that left most of my arms bare. ‘I like this material.’

  ‘It’s silky,’ I said, feeling it as I pulled the skirt down. I had been looking for a reason to wear it; meeting Anita and Jack for dinner seemed like a good reason.

  ‘I might want to take it off of you later,’ he said.

  ‘Might?’ I asked. ‘I’m offended. Usually you’re gung ho about taking my clothes off.’

  ‘I thought you might not be in the mood when we get home,’ he said, grabbing his suit jacket from the bed.

  I looked into the mirror above the dresser. ‘Maybe, maybe not. Should I put my hair up?’

  ‘Whichever,’ he said, smirking. ‘You look sexy no matter what you do with it.’

  ‘But you like it down,’ I said.

  ‘For when we fuck, yeah. But otherwise, it doesn’t really matter to me,’ he said.

  ‘Hmm,’ I said, looking into the mirror again. ‘I’ll tie it up.’

  ‘OK,’ he said, adjusting his gold cufflinks. ‘I’ll meet you by the door.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, walking into the bathroom and tying my hair up in a chic messy ponytail.

  I double checked my pink lipstick before I headed out, slipping on my gold shimmery pumps. The last thing I grabbed was my glittery gold clutch, heading out to meet Quinn, who was waiting by the door with my black coat in his arms.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked.

  I nodded, putting on the coat. ‘Ready.’

  We headed out the door, Quinn locking it before we went down to the garage and grabbed the car, getting to the restaurant right on time, or so I thought. Anita and Jack were already waiting for us, looking pissed.

  I looked to my watch, seeing it was five to seven. The reservations were for seven.

  ‘This does not bode well,’ I said as Quinn took my hand in his, walking up to his aunt and uncle.

  ‘Anita, Jack,’ he said, nodding to them.

  Anita turned up her nose at the sight of us, not the pity party I had expected. She would never approve of me and Quinn being a couple, wanting her niece, Ellie, to be the object of Quinn’s affections. It was never gonna happen.

  Of course, she was dressed in a black designer brand I didn’t recognise. I was never going to get the hang of spotting designer, no matter that I was dating a rich man. Anita could see it a mile away and knew I owned very little.

  Her mousy brown hair had a few more streaks of grey through it, which made me think she had it dyed that way purposely. I didn’t think it would be out of this world for Anita’s world class hair stylist to put in a few extra to give her that hint of sophistication.

  I looked to Jack, who was towering over me at 6’4”, though he was pretty stable; he was probably drunk off his rocker, so he was holding himself up well. His piercing green eyes, similar to Quinn’s, met with mine, a look of indifference on his face where a beard streaked with grey sat, giving him the same sophistication as his wife, dressing to match her in black. Were we going to a funeral?

  I took a moment before I smiled. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hello,’ Anita mumbled, looking off to the other side of the room. Jack said nothing.

  ‘I see you’ve checked your coats,’ Quinn said, turning to me, ‘we’ll do the same. Why don’t you head to the table?’

  They didn’t need to be asked twice, the hostess overhearing us and bringing them to the table. I turned to Quinn, giving him an unimpressed look as I took off my jacket.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s being bitchy to me again,’ I said, handing my coat to the coat-check girl. ‘Usually she does the fake thing until she hears something she doesn’t want to. What’s so different about tonight?’

  He shrugged, taking my hand. ‘Does it matter? She’ll be a bitch no matter what, might as well get it over with.’

  ‘I suppose,’ I grumbled.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, leading me through the crowd towards the four-seater in the corner of the room.

  He pulled out my chair for me, like a gentleman would, seeming to miff Anita even more. I decided I was going to enjoy the meal no matter what. I wasn’t going to let her win this time; I was going to keep my temper in check.

  The hostess had already put down the menus, which we looked over in an awkward silence. I was surprised when Jack put his menu down.

  ‘How’s work, Robert?’ he asked.

  I cringed, knowing how much Quinn hated being called ‘Robert’, especially by Anita and Jack.

  ‘It’s fine, a lot of catching up to do,’ Quinn replied, seeming to let it roll off him. I knew by the end of the meal he’d probably end up saying something.

  ‘You were away for what, a month?’ Jack asked.

  Quinn nodded. ‘Yes. A little time off.’

  ‘I thought you were sick,’ Anita said, eyeing him carefully.

  ‘I was, it was stress,’ he replied coolly.

  I shifted in my seat, pursing my lips. I just knew Anita knew something about him going to rehab. But how? The only people that were supposed to know were me and Quinn. Even Jessy didn’t know.

  ‘I heard you weren’t in Toronto,’ Anita continued, looking over her menu. ‘Where were you, Robert?’

  ‘Does it matter?’ he asked.

  I grabbed his hand under the table, hearing the anger in his voice. He squeezed my hand before rubbing his thumb over it. I wanted to smile, knowing that I had somehow snuffed out his anger or at least kept it at bay.

  Let’s see Ellie do that!

  ‘It matters,’ Anita said, slamming her menu down.

  I was relieved she was cut off as the waiter arrived.

  ‘Can I start you off with drinks?’ he asked.

  ‘A scotch on the rocks, a glass of house wine, and water on the table is fine for us,’ Quinn said.

  ‘Very good,’ the waiter said, nodding before he bustled off.

  ‘The house wine?’ Anita asked, stunned.

  I leaned into Quinn. ‘What’s the difference between house wine and normal?’

  ‘House wine is a way of saying the cheapest they have,’ Quinn said, looking to Anita. ‘That’s all right, isn’t it, Anita?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Fine. Just fine.’

  ‘Good,’ Quinn said, obviously enjoying himself. He looked to me. ‘He
re, it’s still a two hundred dollar bottle of wine.’

  ‘Ouch,’ I said, remembering the wine Quinn had ordered for my parents at our dinner, a five hundred dollar bottle. That was definitely not the house wine.

  Anita leaned forward. ‘I don’t appreciate you trying to embarrass me, Robert.’

  Quinn’s sight narrowed. ‘I asked you not to call me that.’

  ‘Don’t talk to your aunt that way,’ Jack said finally.

  ‘Where were you?’ Anita asked, ignoring her husband and me, staring at her nephew.

  ‘I think you already know,’ Quinn said. ‘Why else be so persistent? So, the real question is how did you find out? Stephanie and I were the only two who knew, so how did you find out? Were you sending your spies out again?’

  She looked away, obviously upset. ‘I think that we, as your family, deserve to know when you are going through such a crisis.’

  ‘It wasn’t a crisis,’ Quinn said.

  The waiter came over, putting down Anita and Jack’s drinks.

  ‘Are we ready to order?’ he asked with a smile.

  Quinn looked to me. ‘Our usual?’

  I nodded meekly, feeling uncomfortable.

  Quinn ordered, looking to Anita and Jack, who then ordered their own food, probably the most expensive on the menu.

  ‘All righty,’ the waiter said, nodding as he finished jotting down our orders, turning, and disappearing again.

  Anita leaned forward once again. ‘You were in rehab, for God’s sake!’

  ‘And?’ Quinn asked calmly. ‘I had a problem; I took care of it.’

  ‘I wonder who started that problem,’ Anita asked, looking to me.

  My eyes widened, ready to spit something terrible at her, but I kept my mouth shut. I grabbed for Quinn’s hand under the table again, holding it tightly.

  ‘Stephanie had nothing to do with it. It was a slip; it happens when you’re an addict,’ Quinn said smoothly. ‘In fact, if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have gone to rehab.’

  ‘If it wasn’t for her you wouldn’t have needed it,’ Jack said, surprising everyone.

  ‘Again, Stephanie had nothing to do with it,’ Quinn replied, keeping his cool.