About Last Night

by Belle Aurora

  I took the inch she gave. Placing my free hand on hers, I squeezed and said in a hushed voice, “I’m sorry, Ma. So sorry. I never should’ve said the things I said. I didn’t even mean them. I was angry at something else and took it out on you.”

  She leaned a little closer and smiled softly. “I forgive you. I love you.”

  I couldn’t handle the distance any longer. I threw my arms around her and squeezed. I needed the contact. I felt her surprise, but after a short moment, her arms circled me and she hugged me back. When I pulled away, her eyes were wet. Smiling, I reached up and wiped her tears away with my sleeve.

  Mom muttered, “I liked that. We don’t hug enough, you and me.”

  “Well, that’s going to change.”

  My mother had never been good at dealing with emotions. She quickly cleared her throat and turned to the fridge. “You hungry, sweetie?”

  I hadn’t eaten since lunchtime the day before, but I placed a hand at the hollow feeling in my stomach. I wasn’t hungry. “No, thanks, I already ate,” I lied with ease.

  She did as she normally did and completely ignored me, getting together the things to make a sandwich, when I laid it on her. “Mom, I have to tell you something.”

  Placing things on the counter, she smiled slyly. “I know about Quinn, Mia. Your brother was here this morning.”

  My gut twisted violently. I responded a hoarse, “Oh.” I swallowed back bile, a blush heating my cheeks. “And what did he say exactly?”

  Mom’s face sobered. “He’s upset, Mia.”

  “I know,” I whispered.

  She shrugged. “I told him it was none of his business.”

  My eyes widened. “You didn’t!” I exclaimed.

  Mom slapped a piece of wheat bread onto the counter, placing ham and cheese onto it. She nodded, brows raised. “Oh yes, I did.” Adding lettuce and mayo, she placed the other piece of bread on top and handed it to me along with a napkin. “Eat,” she ordered.

  I took a big bite of my sandwich, chewing enthusiastically. Mom seemed satisfied with that and went on, “Mia, you’re not a baby anymore. You’re a woman and you’re free to date who you like. Now, Harry is upset, but you’re his baby sister. I don’t think, when the time came, that he would’ve been happy with whomever you brought home. I think he’s just more upset that he feels like he was the last to know.”

  My breathing shallowed. “It all happened so quickly…” I faded out.

  Mom tilted her head slightly to the side and narrowed her eyes at me. “Do you like him?”

  “I love him,” I responded immediately. “I love him more than anything.”

  Mom smiled, and it gave me a small piece of reassurance. “Then fight for him.” She rolled her eyes. “Harry will get over this.” Then she added uncertainly, “Eventually.”

  I picked at my sandwich. “I hope you’re right, Mom.”

  She stood tall and stated, “I’m always right.”

  I really hoped she was. In fact, I was counting on it.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Quinn

  It had been two weeks since Mia and I became an official item, and I wished I could say it was going better than it was.

  The beginning of a relationship was a new and exciting time. We should’ve been in the honeymoon stage, where everything was fun and we couldn’t get enough of each other, but what had happened with Harry hurt us both in a way that I was afraid we’d not recover from.

  Mia was retreating, and someone else was taking her place. She was going about the motions of her day, but I wasn’t entirely sure if the lights were on upstairs. There was something robotic about the way she spoke of late, and her smiles were empty, almost as empty as her eyes.

  I was worried. I loved Mia. She was my world. Seeing her like this scared the shit out of me. I needed to try to fix this, or risk losing her.

  Something told me that if Harry went on rejecting our relationship, Mia and I wouldn’t survive as a couple, and part of me hated Harry for that, because I wasn’t sure if he’d get over whatever the fuck it was he had against us. Not only that, but I was sure I wouldn’t recover if I lost Mia.

  He was right. I wasn’t good enough for her, but I would do everything I had to in order to make things work. Failure of our relationship was not an option. Especially not before it had even really begun.

  For a solid week, I’d watched my girlfriend escape to the bathroom at all hours and come back with red-rimmed eyes. I listened to her cry quietly at night when she was sure I was asleep. I watched as her happiness slowly faded out of her, wondering if it was gone for good.

  I wasn’t about to let sadness become a permanent fixture in Mia’s life. And so I raised my hand and rang the doorbell. He answered the door and looked me up and down. I didn’t miss the three-day growth of his beard or the empty beer bottles on the counter. It seemed Harry was as miserable as we were.

  Neither of us spoke, we watched each other carefully, anticipating what the other would do. A moment passed, and Harry surprised me by stepping away from the door, making room for me to enter.

  I walked in and he closed the door behind me, moving past and asking, “What do you want?”

  If he didn’t feel the need for formalities, neither did I. I stood a few feet away from him and told it like it was. “You’re killing us before we’ve even been given a chance, Har.”

  His eyes narrowed as his jaw steeled. He hated me; that much was clear.

  I normally hated to plead. Today? Not so much. I had to do what I had to do. “Mia’s hurting, and you’re the cause. I—” I hesitated, “I don’t know what to do, but I know if I see her hurting much longer, I’m gonna go after the cause. You get me?”

  “That a threat?” Harry mumbled, feigning boredom.

  God, he was pissing me off. “You know it. I love her more than anything.” I paused a moment to let that sink in. “More than anything, Har.” A sadness came over me that I wasn’t prepared for. It came out when I spoke. “I don’t care that you hit me. I don’t care that you said shit to me I didn’t deserve, but…but I can’t let you hurt her.”

  “And if I told you the only way I’d get over this is if you agreed not to date her?” he asked acidly.

  My haunches rose as I responded a curt, “I’d tell you you’re a selfish asshole and to go fuck yourself.” Harry turned to glare at me. I wasn’t having any of that right then. “We’re in love.” I needed him to understand. “I’m going to marry her.” His anger fell away, and all that was left was a look of resentment. “I had you as a brother for coming on six years, and I’ve never thought any different, no matter how shitty you’ve been to me.” Resentment faded away, and then he just looked tired and empty. “I’d love for you to be a part of our lives, but could get on just fine if you decided you didn’t want that.” I paused before I laid it on him. “But Mia couldn’t, man. She needs you. She loves you more than anything. The entire time we were seeing each other, she told me you were her hero. Her champion. The only person who believed in her. The only one who supported her 100 percent.” I added quietly, “You’re making a liar out of her, Har.”

  I didn’t wait for him to respond. I turned and walked out of his apartment without looking back, hoping he’d take the bait I’d set.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Mia

  I’d gone about my day as I would’ve a month ago. I went to work, did my job, came home, cooked, ate, and then showered and changed into my pajamas. Only, I didn’t feel any of it.

  It had been close to three week since my brother said a word to me. I’d seen him twice at Mom’s, and no matter how hard she tried to engage us into conversation, it just wasn’t happening. My brother greeted me as if I was a stranger, with a curt, “Hello,” and all I could do was respond a quiet, “Hi.” We ate across from each other, avoiding eye contact, answering our mother in short sentences that did not require response.

  Quinn was my only lifeline. Although we didn’t see each other every night, w
e tried to be together at least five nights a week. What scared me was how reliant on him I was becoming.

  I wasn’t that girl, that needy girl, who needed a man to stroke her hair and tell her how pretty she was. That wasn’t me. But Quinn was giving me something new and unfamiliar, something I craved—undivided attention.

  Regardless of how my brother had treated him, he never spoke badly of Harry. In fact, it was the exact opposite. He told me stories about how Harry had saved his ass, about the time Harry took him in when he’d been sleeping in his car for a week, and how Harry had been closer to him than his own blood relatives.

  Only, Harry was my blood relative, and I hated the divide my relationship was causing in my family. I loved Quinn, but Harry was my brother. I didn’t have a father, but I never missed having one, because Harry became everything I needed in a male role model. I loved him in a way that was unique and irreplaceable, and I was utterly lost without him. He was my best friend, my comrade, and his absence left a gaping hole in my heart.

  I was hurting.

  The beeping of the oven timer brought me back to the present and I suddenly realized I’d been standing in the kitchen for minutes without blinking. I took in a quick breath and walked forward to switch off the roast. Quinn would be here soon. I wanted to cook something nice for dinner. He deserved nice dinners with a knockout girlfriend.

  At least I could provide one of the two.

  Quinn had been hitting the gym every night since he’d been accepted in the Police Academy training program. He was in great physical condition as it was; I didn’t see the need for him to push himself, but he was convinced he needed to do more. He was so committed to doing something normal, something honorable. It was nice to see him put his all into something he was passionate about.

  I smiled at the thought, and a faint ache pulsed in my chest.

  I loved him so much…so very much.

  The apartment door opened and I removed the roast from the oven. A long sigh sounded from behind me, and then strong arms wrapped themselves around me, pulling me into a hot, hard body.

  “Would you look at you, being all domestic and shit?” He sounded faintly amused. Then he bit my ear gently and growled, “Oh, baby, you are so getting laid tonight.”

  I swatted at him with my oven mitt and tried to pull away, feigning disgust. “Ugh. Get off. You’re all sweaty.”

  His rough chuckle sounded in my ear. “Oh, hush now. You like me all sweaty. In fact, if I remember correctly, you liked it so much that you licked me all the way down to my c—”

  Turning, I slapped my hands over his mouth, eyes wide, and hissed, “Oh, my God, stop!”

  From behind my hands, his eyes smiled as he mumbled, “Dirty girl.” Then he frowned and mumbled some more. “Hey, what gives? I’ve been here a full minute and you still haven’t kissed me.” He paused a moment before adding, “Gimme dem lips, woman.”

  What had I done so well in my life that I’d been granted the gift of this man?

  My hands slid down to his shoulders, I smiled lightly up at him, stood on my tiptoes, and gently pressed my lips to his. He groaned immediately, his hands coming down to cup the cheeks of my ass, pulling me as far into his body as he could manage. He squeezed, and the slight pain made my core pulse in anticipation.

  I pressed soft, wet kisses to his lips, pulling away only when I thought I wouldn’t be strong enough to if we kept going.

  His eyes hooded in lust-filled mania, and I knew if I didn’t back away now, we’d end up naked on the kitchen floor, dinner forgotten. I backed up with my arms extended in warning. “No. We’re eating.” But Quinn grinned deliciously. I stomped my foot and whined, “Quinn! I cooked, dammit!”

  An arm snaked around my middle and a smirking Quinn pulled me in, holding me close. The other arm came around me, holding me at the small of my back. I was being held in a way that made me feel both safe and protected. And it was better than nice.

  It was wonderful.

  My nose found its way to his collarbone and I breathed him in, part sweat, part cologne, and all Quinn. His warm, full lips gently kissed my forehead. “I missed you today.”

  I reached up to fist the sides of his tee. “I missed you more.”

  His hold loosened enough for him to wrap an arm around my shoulders and lead me to the stools behind the counter. “You cooked. Now you get to sit. I’m going to serve you, princess.”

  There was no point in arguing. Quinn would do what Quinn wanted to do. I found this out rather quickly in our relationship, and to be honest, I didn’t mind letting Quinn pamper me. He loved me and wanted to show me he did. There was nothing wrong with a man showering affection on the woman he loved.

  He pulled out two plates, carved the meat, and then plated it up, peeking up at me occasionally. I watched him closely, a feeling of weariness washing over me. I blinked slowly, exhausted.

  “You’re looking a little better today. How are you feeling?”

  I thought about it before lifting my shoulder in a shrug. I was a bit sick of talking about this.

  Quinn placed my plate in front of me and I watched as he ate with gusto, moaning and groaning appreciatively, before he went back for a second helping. He looked down at my plate and spied me picking at my food. “Not hungry?”

  I pushed my plate away with a sigh. It was making me feel ill. “Not really. I had a late lunch.” Quinn stopped eating long enough to cup my cheek and run a hand over my forehead. I swatted his hand away, rolling my eyes. “Relax, Mom. I feel fine.”

  He picked up our plates and stashed them in the sink before stripping off his tight black tee and undoing the tie at the waist of his light grey sweatpants. They hung low on his hips, and the cut V-shape at his abdomen made my knees weak. He scratched absently at his belly. “I’m going to shower, and then we’re going to bed.”

  My brow furrowed. “But it’s like eight p.m.”

  He walked into the bathroom. I heard the shower start, and he called back, “Never said we were going to sleep, baby.”

  My lips pursed as my brows rose. “Oh,” I breathed.

  I lifted my arm and sniffed myself before making my way to the bedroom to dress in my ‘nice’ jammies.

  My mouth opened in a silent moan as Quinn thrust into me from behind, hard yet precise. He wasn’t in a rush to take me there, and I wasn’t in the mood to rush him, not when he was feeling as generous as he was.

  Large hands roamed my skin as I was mounted and ridden on my hands and knees. I thought back to what Quinn had told me one of the very first times I spoke to him.

  “I promise you, Maya. The best sex is always dirty and messy and shocking. That’s the kind of sex that stems from passion. It’s incredible.”

  Oh, boy, he was right. He was so right.

  His thrusts shallowed as he brought his front down until we were chest-to-back. His panting sounded in my ear, and at that moment, I’d never heard a more erotic sound than Quinn simply breathing.

  His voice low, he rumbled, “Mia.” He gently moved my hair away from the back of my neck and placed his lips at the place where neck met shoulder. Against my skin, he grated, “Mia.” He didn’t just say my name. He sang it. He purred, and my body thrummed in response.

  Deliciously stretched, my core tightened from the way he said my name. He drove into me, and I was not prepared. I moaned, my body shuddering. I felt his crooked smile against my bare skin and I pushed back against him, forcing him to bottom out.

  He groaned, his body stiff, and it was my turn to smile. I panted, needing more, then pushed back again, grinding my pussy onto his thick cock, wanting more than anything for Quinn to lose his cool. From the low growl that escaped him, I knew he was almost there.

  When he removed himself from my back, gripped my hips, and tried to control my movements, I smiled again. He was close to his breaking point.

  “Quinn, honey,” I rasped. “Please.”

  His hand came down on my ass so suddenly that I squeaked in surprise. He
ran his fingertips over the throbbing heat of my skin. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

  Okay. Here was the thing. I loved dirty talk…as long as it was Quinn doing the dirty talking. My issue? Quinn loved dirty talk, and he wanted to hear me say things that would make a nun faint.

  I grew frustrated. “Quinn,” I warned.

  His hand came down on the other cheek. Hard. I gasped, craving the soft touch of his fingers that I knew would come soon after.

  He ground out, “Fuck, I love your ass.” Reaching under me, he took my breasts into his hands and squeezed gently. “I love you full tits,” he muttered, plucking lightly at my nipples. “I love how sensitive your nipples are.” He drove into me, and I whimpered. He spoke through gritted teeth. “I love your tight, wet pussy.” He drove into me a second time, and I moaned long and low. He asked, “Who is your pussy so wet for, baby?” I bit my lip and fought a groan, my sex convulsing around his thick girth.

  He felt it. “Oh, yeah, Mia. You know I like that.” His voice soft, he asked, “That cunt honey for me, Mia? You like my cock, baby? You like when I do this?” He thrust into me, balls-deep.

  My eyes rolled into the back of my head as my mouth parted in a silent sigh. “Oh, God.”

  “Not God,” he uttered cockily. “No, baby. Just me.” He drove into me. “Say my name, Mia.”

  I was way past the embarrassed stage. “Quinn,” I panted.

  His voice deceivingly soft, he stated, “Love when you say my name.”

  It was then that I found I couldn’t stop saying his name. I moaned it over and over as he worked my body into a frenzy. My clit begged for attention, and just when I thought I’d go mad, he gave me what I needed. His fingers worked me in a slow circular motion, and not ten seconds passed before my body exploded into fireworks. I threw my head back and wailed through my blissful release.

  Quinn groaned, working me hard and fast, prolonging my release, and soon, his body turned rigid and he stilled, pumping hot cum into the condom, joining me in ecstasy.