by Aly Martinez
I startled at the sudden outburst, but his body closed in on me, flattening me against the side of the truck. He bent down and took my mouth in a punishing kiss. As always, my arms instantly folded around him. His hand dropped to my thigh and lifted it to his hip, leaving me balanced on one heel.
“Tell me this feels wrong,” he ordered, fisting a hand into the back of my hair then slamming his mouth back over mine.
My lips ached under the force of his, but my tongue greedily swirled in his mouth.
“Tell me,” he gritted out.
I turned my head to answer, but he sucked hard on my neck before biting it. The pain seared through me only to transform into ecstasy as he rolled his cock against my core. A strangled cry tore from my throat.
“Tell me this doesn’t feel like everything you’ve ever wanted. Because that’s exactly how it fucking feels to me.”
“Quarry,” I breathed—my only objection before I thrust my hips forward to find friction.
His mouth continued to assault me, breaking from my skin only long enough to growl, “Tell me you don’t want me.” Bite. “Don’t love me.” He soothed the spot with a lave of his tongue. “Tell me this doesn’t feel like the rest of your life and I’ll fucking let it go right now.” Rake of his teeth. “Tell me, Liv.” His hands moved to my breasts, kneading before plucking my peaked nipples over the fabric of my dress.
I was about to mount him in the middle of a parking lot, and I cared not one single bit.
I couldn’t tell him any of those things.
There was no doubt that I wanted him.
Even when I’d tried not to, I’d always loved him.
It felt exactly like the rest of my life with him.
I couldn’t even stop my mind from firing off the random images of diamond rings, white dresses, hazel-eyed babies, my name on his tongue in climax, whispered I-love-yous before falling asleep in his arms. Forever.
And, for that reason alone, I said, “We’re not wrong.”
His mouth moved to my ear, his breath sending chills down my spine as he spoke. “I refuse to let you fight me on this. I refuse to deny the way I feel about you. And I absolutely refuse to let you deny what you feel for me. You want this. I get that you’re scared, but trust me. I will make this work for us.”
“Trust me.”
Right.
Even with that thought ricocheting through my mind, my only response was a nod.
“We deserve to be happy, Rocky. And I’m sorry if you have issues with this, but I dare you to tell me that Mia would have wanted us to be miserable and apart rather than happy and together.”
“I don’t know what she would have wanted,” I mumbled.
He froze. “Then you’re lying to yourself. There is nothing in this world, including dying alone, that she wouldn’t have done to see us happy.”
That’s when I froze.
“She did that, Liv. And I was mad at her for a lot of years because of it. But the truth is she didn’t just want to live the rest her days happy. She wanted us to live the rest of ours happy too.”
I swallowed around the emotion lodged in my throat. He was right. Deep down, I knew he was.
Still, it felt impossible to accept.
Dropping my forehead to his chest, I asked, “How are you the rational one here?”
“Because it’s you.”
I sighed. I knew that half of the reason I’d ended up being Quarry’s assistant was because I was the only one who could handle him. Over the last few years, I’d been able to talk him down, no matter how out of hand he got. Up until that moment, I’d always assumed I was just good at crisis management, but I was suddenly realizing that it had nothing to do with me at all—and everything to do with us.
“Did you love me first?” I asked for no other reason than I was curious as hell.
He chuckled. “I was thirteen when you took off. Love back then consisted of who had bigger boobs and was willing to let me touch them.” He grazed his hand up the side of my breast.
I slapped his chest, causing him to laugh, but he soon turned serious again.
“But, if you’re asking if, even as a kid, I felt an undeniable connection with you that I would never be able to explain, but I still recognized with every cell in my body, every breath in my lungs, and every beat of my heart that I needed to hold on to it no matter the consequences? Then my answer would have to be…” He paused and nuzzled his cheek against mine before whispering, “Every. Single. Day.”
“EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.”
Whether he’d loved me or not, I didn’t know. But Quarry Page had returned the only three words that could trump any declaration of love he ever had to offer. The war raging within me had come to a stalemate, leaving me to make a decision based solely on the hazel eyes I’d never been able to get over. I was officially going to give in to my innermost desires and, in turn, give Quarry his too. I didn’t know how anything was going to work between us. But, with three simple words, I vanquished the guilt and filled my heart with hopes of the future I’d wanted since I was a little girl.
Wrong or right, I’d wanted him for forever.
Wrong or right, I was finally going to follow through.
My head was a jumbled mess, my emotions had been put through the wringer, and my body was on the verge of spontaneous combustion, but one thing had become abundantly clear.
“Stop freaking out. We’re doing this,” Quarry stated.
My eyes were clamped shut as I signed, “It appears we are.”
“Jesus. Don’t look so excited.”
“It’s weird!” I whined.
“Was it weird when you were coming on my cock last night?” he asked in a deep voice, skating the fine line between frustration and hilarity.
“It is now!” I replied, skating an equally fine line between joining a convent and dropping to my knees in front of him.
“Well, was it weird when I was finger-fucking you not even ten minutes ago?”
No. That had been the furthest thing from weird. The man was incredible with his hands.
I decided not to inflate his ego and lied. “A little.”
Water suddenly doused my face, causing my eyes to pop open in surprise.
“Stop!” I yelled, doing my best to keep my gaze aimed at his chin or higher.
His laughter was infectious, so as much as I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, I started laughing too. Unfortunately, this act gave my mind a chance to forget the whole chin-up thing, and my eyes took the opportunity to drop to Quarry’s hand gliding over the defined ridges on his stomach.
And they didn’t stop there. They continued down until they landed on Quarry’s long, hard dick jutting out in front of him.
Did I forget to mention that Quarry was naked?
And hard? So damn long and thick.
And in the shower, waiting for me to join him?
It.
Was.
Agonizing.
After I’d finally given in and agreed to give a relationship a shot, we’d quickly packed up and left the bus station.
However, Quarry hadn’t driven us home. He’d taken us to the nicest hotel Indianapolis had to offer. He’d immediately been recognized by the staff, and after he’d posed for a dozen selfies, the valet had eventually rumbled off in Till’s clunker.
When we’d arrived in the lavish suite, I’d discovered that this wasn’t just the impromptu overnight stay Quarry had made it sound like. My travel bag had been sitting on the sink beside his, and a five-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne had been chilling in a silver bucket next to the bed. Beside it had been a bottle of my favorite ten-dollar wine from the grocery store.
A random collection of snacks had been neatly organized across the long bar. Everything from elegant chocolate-covered strawberries to—my favorite—a bag of Oreos and a half-gallon of one percent milk.
On a chair in the corner, I’d spotted the pair of purple Chucks he’d bought me for my birthday. My jeans and one of my
fitted “The Stone Fist” T-shirts had been draped over the arm. One of my simple everyday bra and panty sets had been sitting on top of them.
Huge bouquets of white roses had covered nearly every surface, including both nightstands, and a playlist I’d recognized as my own had been playing from a set of speakers hidden somewhere in the room.
Oh, Quarry Page had been busy.
Looping his arms around my waist from behind, he’d said, “Broke sixteen-year-old me took you on the date. Loaded twenty-four-year-old me is stepping in for the evening.”
I’d craned my head back to flash him a huge grin over my shoulder.
He’d stepped away and announced, “Let’s shower.” He then had gone to work removing his hearing aids and stripping out of his suit.
I had to admit that watching him slowly unbuttoning his shirt with his eyes glued to me had done some seriously tingly things between my legs.
Over the course of the evening, Quarry had stroked, touched, and teased me with his fingers numerous times—including on the way over here, when he’d snuck his hand under my dress while he’d been driving—but never once had it been long enough for me to find a release.
And, as I’d ogled his naked ass sauntering to the bathroom, it had almost been enough.
It hadn’t been though, and against my better judgment, I’d followed him to the bathroom, which was where I found myself standing, fighting desperately to keep from watching his hard-on bob in front of him as he washed his gorgeous body.
When he noticed my eyes aimed at his hips, he chuckled softly, drawing my attention back up. The moment we made eye contact, his mouth split into a gorgeous grin, popping that dimple that drove me wild.
“Get in the shower, Liv.”
“It’s a little intimidating,” I replied.
“Getting naked or my cock, which you can’t stop staring at?”
Definitely the latter. “Getting naked while you stand there gawking. What happened to the whole heat-of-the-moment thing?” I replied rudely only so I could cross my arms over my chest to hide my rock-hard nipples.
He threw his head back in laughter. When he finally sobered, his gaze was no longer filled with amusement. “Fine. You want heated and in the moment?”
“Uhhh…” I mumbled, instantly realizing my mistake as he prowled from the shower.
His tattoo-covered arms, swayed as he made his approach. His pecs flexed, and his abdominals rippled.
And, suddenly, he wasn’t the only one dripping wet.
He stopped in front of me and bent his head to capture my mouth. Water dribbled from the ends of his hair, running down my face and my neck and into my dress while he skillfully worked my mouth.
I wasn’t actually nervous, per se. I just didn’t like the idea that, the first time this perfect specimen of a man saw me naked, I was going to be awkwardly struggling out of a dress in a brightly lit hotel bathroom.
I would have preferred a dimly lit bedroom where he walked in after I was already naked and seductively lounging on the bed, strategically posed with my hair fanning out around me.
I quickly got over the lighting issues when he peeled my dress over my head.
His tongue was again tangling with mine when his large hands proved their dexterity by snapping the clasp of my bra. As my bra fell to the floor, I momentarily lost his mouth only to find it at my breasts a blink later. His shoulders were rolled forward, bowing his tall body awkwardly, but it might have been the sexist sight I had ever seen.
I’d seen Quarry without his shirt on thousands of times. Whether he was at the gym working out, in the ring during a fight, walking around our apartment, or just sitting out on our balcony while shooting the shit, Quarry was never wearing a shirt.
Striking, black tribal tattoos covered nearly every inch of his back. I’d always thought they were attractive, but never once had the sight of them caused my knees to buckle.
But, then again, never once had they been hunched over my naked body while he was devouring my breast.
“Oh, God!” I cried, gripping the back of his head for balance.
He groaned, dropping to his knees and switching his attention to my other breast. “Fucking perfect.”
Closing my eyes, I swayed against him. His tongue teased one nipple while his fingers rolled the other.
Pure erotic torture.
My clit pulsed with need.
With his mouth working me toward the edge, it was becoming too much—or, more accurately, not enough.
I guided his hand down my stomach. His eyes flashed up to mine in question. Stepping to the side, I spread my legs wider as my reply. He didn’t delay in dipping between my legs.
My core clenched when he hummed his approval against my breast.
But then it was gone.
His hand disappeared, and then the mouth, and then so did the ground.
With his arms around my thighs, he carried me to the bed. “Fuck the shower,” he cursed under his breath.
I landed on the bed, and a split second later, Quarry’s mouth landed between my legs. He hooked my calves over his shoulders and gripped the tops of my thighs as he devoured me. It was a frenzied feast that alternated between wild licking from top to bottom and back again, only slowing when he thrust his tongue inside my opening, and sucking at my clit before jolting me with an exquisite flick of his tongue.
It was the most unbelievable combination of sensations.
But it wasn’t for me.
This was for Quarry’s pleasure, and judging by the loud growls and purred moans, he was enjoying himself immensely.
It was beginning to drive me insane. Each time I would get close, he’d switch up his technique. The edge of climax evaded me only to reappear, taunting me with an unattainable release seconds later. I was on a sexual bungee cord I couldn’t seem to break.
My frustration was unmistakable, but either he didn’t care or he was too busy ravaging me to notice.
I pulled at his hair—the ache of my clit making the action far rougher than I had intended. Finally, his eyes flipped up, and with one last lick, his mouth disconnected.
“You’re killing me,” I signed, my voice barely able to accompany my hands.
A slow, sexy grin played at his lips. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to come?”
I gave him my best death-stare, but it was rendered worthless when I realized I was also smiling.
He dipped his head and trailed his tongue up to my belly button. “I’d apologize, but you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to taste you.”
My hips lifted off the bed, pleading for him to go back down.
He didn’t—at least, not yet.
After sliding his hands up my stomach, he palmed my breasts, squeezing firmly before gently brushing his thumbs over my nipples.
I greedily arched into his hands.
“I’ve known my entire life that you were beautiful. But this…” He shook his head, at a loss for words. Upon gliding a hand back between my legs, he pushed one finger deep while still rolling my sensitive nipple. His eyes were aimed at my chest when he asked, “You want me to make you come, Liv?” He said my name in what could only be explained as awe.
I did want to come. So fucking badly.
But the way in which he’d said my name, as if he had been in shock that I was actually lying there with him, made me want more.
I no longer wanted the release his fingers or his mouth would surely give me. I wanted the connection of him inside me. His eyes on mine. His heavy weight anchoring me to the bed in the present while our bodies made plans and promises for a future together.
For however long it lasted, I wanted to give Quarry Page all of me.
Even the dark and distrustful parts that would eventually ruin us.
Threading my fingers through the top of his hair, I forced his attention back to my face.
“I’m more scared of you than I’ve ever been of the silence.”
His eyes narrowed, and I knew he couldn’t make o
ut my words without his hearing aids.
But, just like the way he’d taken what he’d needed with his mouth between my legs, this was for me. He didn’t need to hear it. My confession alone was more than enough to release me.
“A part of me died the day you locked me in the closet.”
“Sign,” he urged on a gravelly demand.
I kept talking.
“You made me see that friendship is a farce and trusting anyone other than myself is the biggest mistake I could make. It was a lesson I had been learning my whole life up until that point. But you tattooed it on my soul in a way I could never forget.”
He crawled up the bed until he was hovered over me. “I don’t know what you’re saying. Sign.”
I didn’t. “You are, and always have been, the one person in my life who has the ability to destroy me. For years, I clung to you, knowing that, as long as I kept you close, I didn’t have to be scared of anything else. You, Quarry Page, are the embodiment of my greatest fear.” My vision swam.
He was notably confused, but his face softened. “Please sign,” he begged.
I couldn’t. “Getting into a relationship with you—giving you the few guarded pieces of my heart you didn’t already own is the scariest thing I can fathom. Losing you is frightening. Trusting you not to break me is petrifying.”
His eyes frantically searched my lips for the words I was refusing him. “Damn it, Rocky. What are you talking about? Sign.”
A tear escaped my eye, but a smile tipped up the sides of my mouth and the weight of the world lifted off my chest. “I don’t trust you. And I don’t know that I ever will. I do love you though. So I’m hoping that will be enough…for as long as we last.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he huffed, slapping his hand to the nightstand for the case of his hearing aids.
I tapped on his chest to grab his attention and then finally signed, “Make love to me.”
He squinted at me skeptically, his strong jaw clenching as he gritted his teeth. “What were you just saying?”
“Things every woman thinks in bed. I’m just lucky enough to be able to say them out loud.” I slid a hand between us and gripped his softening cock.
His breath caught as I began to stroke over his smooth length.