by Emilia Finn
Exhausted, he drops all two hundred and fifty or so pounds of his weight down onto my torso until my lungs constrict and every last ounce of oxygen leaves my body, but my brain is already dizzy, my mind already floating with whatever magic a single touch from William Quinn conjures.
“If I die from suffocation,” I close my eyes to sleep, “it’d probably be a decent way to go.”
“Sorry.” Hot breath washes over my neck, over my ear, followed by a gentle lave of his tongue that brings my lips up into a gentle curve. “I’ll get up soon.”
“Sleepy.” On the edge of consciousness, I roll to the left when William does, so when he lands on his side, I simply follow and curl into his arms so my cheek rests over his thundering heart and my loose hair tickles my bare back.
The air outside of “us” is warm, but gentle on my hot skin. The soft droning of the television plays somewhere else in the apartment, and in the one above us, the rhythmic beat of a song.
“Someone up there?”
It takes William a second to process my words, for him to bundle me closer and press his lips to my hair. “Yeah. Always has music on.”
“Annoying?”
I’ve been reduced to single word sentences, even as my vagina continues to pulse and send licks of pleasure radiating through my body.
“No,” he sighs. “Decent music. I’m used to it.”
“Used to the music?”
“Mm.” His callused hand slides along the hypersensitive skin of my back. For a moment, his moving fingers seem random, but then I feel the pattern. The repetition. “I lived with my sister the last two decades, remember? Music was more common than food.”
“Your sister.” I smack my lips and smile… for one single second. Then my eyes snap open and my heart gives a painful thud.
His sister!
“Oh my god!” I jolt in his arms like I’ve touched an electrical wire, and when he releases me, I jump to my knees and cry out when my reality slams down over me.
I’m naked. In front of William effing Quinn!
“Oh no. What have I done?”
“What?” he lays flat again so his large body spreads out and covers most of the bed. His chest is large, imposing, and his thighs are thicker than my stomach. His dick is still wrapped in the condom, but now rests flaccid against his hipbone, taunting me. “Lay down, Olivia. Sleep time.”
“I have a boyfriend!” I screech and scuttle off the bed. “Where is my underwear? Oh god.” Tears burn my eyes, and my hands shake – adrenaline and fear rolled into one. “Oh no,” I whimper and scurry out of the room with my heels in my hands.
I sprint to the kitchen and trip my way into my jeans. My hair hangs in my eyes, and my fingers turn annoyingly numb, so buttoning my jeans becomes a sport that is almost too much to bear.
“Olivia!” Will’s voice is less annoyed and more exasperated. “Come back to bed. I’m too wrecked to chase you.”
“I have a boyfriend!” I’m pathetic! “I can’t be here, William.”
Footsteps echo along the hall and stop at the doorway, and my eyes follow long legs up to a pair of camo-green boxer briefs.
“You have my spit in your ass,” he drawls, “and your pussy is stretched out to fit me. You don’t have a boyfriend, Olivia. You have a pest problem and a sick obsession with lying to yourself.”
“I can’t be with you!” I rush around the apartment in search of my things. My bra, my shirt, my keys and phone. “This was… This…” I look up and silently beg for help.
“This was hot,” he answers for me. “It was perfect, and your pussy is like heaven. Come back to bed so we can do it again.” He takes a step forward. “And again. And again.” He continues forward until his toes touch mine and his body crowds me against the cupboards. “Whatever this was,” his eyes flicker between mine. “A fantasy fulfilled, a dream come true, a chance to slum it with the poor boy; whatever you were trying to achieve by coming here, you got it. But I’m not done with you yet, so…”
“I have a boyfriend!”
“You have an annoying tendency to use that idiot like you’re a gay man running for senator and using a woman who needs a little cash. A woman in love does not sleep with someone else. A woman in a relationship does not go to another man’s apartment for a filthy fuck.”
I slip out from between William and the counter, and snatch up my purse. “I came here to talk to you.”
“You’re a fucking liar!” He spins and follows me with his gaze. “You came here to suck my cock.”
“You’re despicable!”
“You’re a hoity-toity, stuck-up, wannabe princess.”
“You’re a criminal who makes shady deals in a club where women dance with no clothes on.”
“Are you here on an undercover op, then?” He takes a menacing step forward and draws my eyes from his fisted hands, to his clenching jaw. “You came in here hoping to gather some intel for your man? It’s not cheating because it’s work? Swear to god, Olivia. If he says it’s okay for you to fuck other men to help his career, he won’t survive the week.”
“Who was that man you were making deals with at the club?”
“When was the last time you fucked Pierce?” he fires back. “When was the last time he touched you the way I touched you?”
“Why did you come to this town if your only intention was to continue to do bad things?”
“Why did you cream for me, if you’re so insistent on Pierce being your man?”
“Ugh!” My stomach lurches, and my heart screams in my chest, but I fist my keys and press a couple between my fingers. Brass knuckles. Mini daggers. I turn to the front door and try to hide the tears in my eyes. “This was a mistake.”
“Best orgasm I’ve had in years,” he whips at my back. “The only mistake tonight is you walking out that door right now.”
“I can’t be here!” I shout so loud that even the neighbor upstairs lowers their music. “I told you I could be your friend, I could bring you milk or sugar or whatever normal, non-sexual thing you want. I’m a nice person, William Quinn!”
“So you’re telling me you bring all the guys who are new to town a slice of your pie?”
“You’re disgusting!” I swing the apartment door open so fast that it smacks the wall and bounces back. “You’ve officially worn out your welcome. Now stay away from me.”
“You came to me!” He storms to the doorway and watches my walk of shame. “You came here, Olivia! So you can quit with the innocent act. Nobody believes it.”
“Go to hell!”
“Feels like I’m already there!” He races into the hall and stops at the top of the stairs when I hit the next level of the staircase and continue around. “Come back up and spend the night with me,” he hums with a cruel grin. “I promise you’ll love it.”
“Go fuck yourself!”
“Why would I, when women like you knock on my door?”
“Gah!” I race down the stairs with my heart in my throat, and plead to the universe that for once, just this one time, I don’t run into anyone I know.
I jog in my heels and burst through the building’s main entrance, only to collapse against my car door with a cry bursting up my chest.
I messed up. I messed up really, really bad.
“Olivia!”
Against my wishes, my eyes shoot up to find William standing on the fire escape in those boxer briefs and nothing else. He holds onto the rickety metal banister and leans over the side.
“Come back upstairs,” he murmurs. He’s lost the cruelty in his voice, the mocking, the meanness, and instead, he sounds like he genuinely cares. “Don’t race outta here, Olivia. Don’t drive with tears in your eyes.”
“They’re angry tears!” I shout up to him. “I cry when I’m angry.”
“I know you do,” he placates. “Come upstairs and spend time with me. We’ve already stepped over the line, right? There are no degrees to which tonight will be graded. So since we’ve already stepped over once…”
“No.” I shake my head and swipe away fresh tears. “I’m going home. I need to talk to Brenten.”
“If you tell him what we did, he’s gonna be pissed.”
“He has a right to be! What we did was wrong.”
“I guess that’s your opinion,” he brushes me off. “But I’m telling you now, if you tell him what we did, and he gets angry and hurts you, I’ll kill him.” He adjusts his stance on the fire escape and stares deep into my eyes. “No one will ever find him.”
“You can’t make threats like that, William! My father is a cop! My uncle, my family; cops! You can’t say things like that.”
“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want. Unlike you, I don’t much care what my mother thinks of me.”
“I’m not doing this.” I wrench the car door open. “Please stay away from me, William. Pretend I don’t exist.”
“Don’t think I can do that,” he singsongs and scrubs a hand over his chin. “I might start calling you Pringles. Once you pop, I can’t st—”
“You’re disgusting.”
And this is a losing battle, so I slide into my car and try three times to shove my key into the ignition. I pull the keys out, try again, and cry out when I can’t do it in the dark. I reach up and slap the overhead light on with a whimpered grunt, only to pull the keys back and squint to try to see.
“Looking for these?”
I jump in my seat, and squeal when William’s foreboding body shadows the space outside my car.
He dangles a set of keys between us and grins. “You took mine, silly.”
“Dammit.” I snatch them from his hand, and slap the wrong set back into his palm. “Go away.”
But of course he’s incapable of doing as he’s told. Instead, he opens my car door and folds his way into my space until my breath stops and our noses touch. His blue eyes are so deep and soothing, so comforting, even when every other fiber of my being demands I get the hell away.
“Don’t drive like a lunatic,” he murmurs. “You’re angry, and that’s okay. But you’re also scared, and nervous, and irrational. You have tears in your eyes, and you’re picking up the wrong keys in a rage.” He presses his lips to mine and swallows down my sigh.
He tastes like gum, and perhaps beer. He tastes like I wish I could explore and enjoy without guilt, but I can’t. I don’t have that luxury.
“Drive safe,” he whispers and peppers another kiss to my lips. “It only takes a second for something really bad to happen.”
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” I whimper. “It was a mistake.”
“I respect your opinion.” He presses another kiss to my lips. He’s allowing me to savor, to taste, to enjoy. And more importantly, I suspect, time to calm down. “But that doesn’t mean I agree with it.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I choke out. “You’re not the one with something to lose.”
He grins and reaches up to tuck loose strands of my hair back. “I do, actually. I have a lot to lose, and you damn well know it. Unfortunately for me, I already lost you. Now I’m gonna try to get you back. I won’t tell a soul about tonight. What you and I do…” He slides the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “I will never tell. You’re welcome in my home whenever you want, as often as you want, for as long as you want. We can fuck, or we can play cards and eat bad food, and I swear, I will never ask you to leave. But don’t ask me to feel sorry for Pierce. It’s not gonna happen.”
“He’s a good man.”
“He’s a piece of shit, and you know it. If you truly wanted to be with him, you wouldn’t be crying in my parking lot right now.”
“I’m committed to him,” I whisper. “I made a promise, I gave him my word.”
“Well, your word is somewhere upstairs, laying on my floor beside your wet panties.”
“Disgusting!” I shove him back and push the correct key into my ignition. When I twist it, the engine roars, and my stomach jumps.
William stands back a couple feet with a playful grin, his hands on his hips. He’s still in his underwear; I guess he just doesn’t give a shit about what people would think if they saw him.
Turning in my seat, I look over my shoulder to make sure I’m not going to crash into anyone, then I push the car into reverse and leave with my dignity and honor sitting beside my panties and my word.
Upstairs. On William Quinn’s apartment floor.
William
Don’t Skip Too Much
I walk through the Rollin On Gym with a smile on my face and what some might describe as a skip to my step, though of course, since I made a promise last night to shut my mouth, I deny that skip every single time.
My sister was on me at breakfast this morning:
“Why are you smiling so much? It’s weird.”
“What did you do? You never smile like that unless you just stole something good.”
“William, don’t make me get mad at you. Do we need bail money?”
But each time she asked, I merely shook off her questioning, and started paying more attention to Giselle, the Great Dane monstrosity.
Coffee consumed, sister-welfare-check complete, I left their place with a belly full of eggs and coffee, my “secret” intact, and now here I am with a flutter in my stomach that wars with the eggs, competing to be noticed.
“Hey, Mom?”
I stop in the hallway when her voice slides through my ear and into my soul.
“What are your plans for today’s class?” she continues on a soft murmur that works to be heard over the loud cacophony of fighters slamming on each other just twenty feet away.
“I was going to work on takedowns,” Olivia’s mother answers with none of the tension in her voice that her daughter carries.
In the hall, only a few feet from a training room entrance, I plaster my back to the wall, kick one leg up to add some kind of legitimacy to my stance if someone were to walk by, and I wait.
I wait, and I listen.
“We got a small flux of new students,” her mother continues, “so I’m cycling around and working on the basics so they can keep up. Why do you ask?”
I don’t see the women, but I kind of imagine Olivia’s carefree shrug. I imagine her sexy yoga pants, and the sweat that slides along her slender torso after the class she just finished hosting.
“Just curious,” she answers. “Do you need me at your six p.m. class, or can I skip out tonight?”
The voices come a little closer, just a little louder.
“You don’t have to be there,” Lindsi replies. “I can bring one of the advanced students in to help, or Aunt Andi is starting to annoy me, so maybe she’ll volunteer.”
Olivia snorts and releases a little of the tension she’s no doubt been holding onto since last night.
Olivia Conner is not a bad girl; she’s not a secretive, sexy fuck-affair kind of girl, so no doubt she was awake all night worrying about her soul going to Hell and all that jazz. A conundrum I long ago stopped obsessing about when my options were to starve, or to steal.
“You know she won’t,” she says. “She’ll race outta here the second she gets word you’re annoyed at her.”
“Probably. What are you doing tonight?”
A moment passes where neither women speak, only to be broken by Lindsi’s, “Liv?”
“Hmm?”
“What are you doing tonight that requires you to skip class?”
“Oh.” Her voice cracks a little. Not a whole lot, and not so other people would notice. But since I can’t see her, I guess my hearing is hyper-attuned to her every nuance. “I was going to get some dinner with Brenten. I feel like I’ve been neglecting him a little the last few weeks, so…”
What was a smile on my face is now a sour grimace.
Brenten is neglected my ass.
“Ever since Quinn’s dance recital,” she continues, “I’ve been distracted and busy. I feel bad about how things are going down, ya know, with the lake day stuff, and the Devil Twins giving him
so much trouble, plus the stuff with Daddy at work, so…”
“First of all,” Lindsi bites out, “the Devil Twins are not your responsibility, and Oz’s work is Oz’s work. If anyone should apologize, it’s Brenten, for putting pressure on him when he’s already working himself to the bone. But all that aside, what you truly mean is, ever since a certain guy moved to town and insisted on staring at you.”
The older Conner makes a tsk sound in the back of her throat. “You’ve been distracted for years, baby. But the distraction was easier to ignore when William wasn’t in town. Now he’s in the gym, he’s at family gatherings, he’s at the dance studio, he kissed you that one time, and now you’re finding it really hard to ignore.”
“Yeah, well…” Olivia sniffs, as though the thought annoys her – which, well, I’m certain it does. “Because I continue to run into that certain somebody, even when I don’t mean to—”
Yeah, let’s not mention the time when you came to my fucking door.
“I’m just saying, I know it bothers Brenten. And it’s fair, really; any man would get a little miffed if another was staring at his girlfriend all the time.”
“So…” Lindsi drags the word out. “You’re taking responsibility for Brenten’s feelings now too?”
“No. I was just… I guess I just figured I’d treat him to something nice. Dinner, wine, time alone where the outside world doesn’t exist.”
“But isn’t that what you did last night?”
I have to bite down my grin when Lindsi intuitively cuts through Olivia’s bullshit and calls her on the lie she told last night – that she was getting dinner with her boyfriend. That was the story she fed her mother, and because she sucks at lying, the cracks have already begun to show.
The women walk in awkward silence for a moment, time Olivia takes to collect her thoughts, I assume, but it all turns so much worse when they step into the hall and Olivia screams when her eyes meet mine.
She screams so sharply, so loud, that Lindsi and I both jump in place, only for Lindsi to then shoot a filthy glare at her daughter when Olivia’s screeching cuts off with a sharp intake of air.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” the woman snarls. She presses a hand to her heart and shakes her head. “Dammit, Livi. You nearly gave me a coronary.”