by Doyle, Dawn
Quinn froze, his bloodied hands lifting, the wraps undone, and partially hanging down. “Whoa, you’re not going to mention anything about what you just saw?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and counted to five. “Quinn, I am not in the right mind to even consider what I’ve just witnessed.” I pointed behind him while keeping my eyes closed. “Whatever that was is not something I’m able to put into words right now. I’d like to compartmentalize that and discuss what I came here for, which is hearing your sorry excuse for treating me like a goddamn hook-up.” I opened my eyes to see his hard jaw ticking, the dark patches already swelling in areas as well as the outside of his left eye.
He lifted the shirt in his hand and ran it over his face, then his hard chest, revealing what I thought was a slash was a dried spray of blood.
How nice.
His abs rippled as he swiped at the dirt, and for a few seconds, I forgot why I was there.
“You know I didn’t,” he snapped, his eyes searching my face before falling to my lips. He remained on them for a moment, then moved back up. “I never saw you as just a hook-up.” His nose scrunched as though saying those words left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Then why the hell did you just leave and then fucking ghost me for the past few days, huh?” I pressed my finger to my chest against the black fabric. “I had to come to you. That sure as hell looks like it was a hook-up to me.”
His lids shut for a second, his nostrils flared, and his lips pursed like he was composing himself. “We should talk somewhere else.”
“Here’s just fine.”
“Look behind me,” he said without turning. “Still think that’s a good idea?”
I stood on my tiptoes to peek over his shoulder, finding a wave of people coming out of the barn. Some set their sights in our direction—mostly women. Their excited chatter flowed on the breeze with whispers of Quinn’s name and what they thought of him in extremely graphic detail.
“Oh, look, that fanbase you told me about,” I sneered. “They exist after all.” I didn’t understand it, though. Quinn wasn’t exactly a celebrity, but these people acted like they’d just spotted a megastar.
“We need to go, Kinny.” He turned his head over his shoulder, then back to me, his feet moving immediately. “Let’s go to that RV over there.”
I looked around and spotted a motorhome that reminded me of Breaking Bad, the small vehicle looking like it was in desperate need of a stick of dynamite and a naked flame.
Quinn made a fist and thumped on the door, and it opened out a couple of seconds later, Layton peering out.
“Hey, get your asses inside,” he said when he spotted me. “Kinsley, hey. It’s good to see you again.” He held out his hand, and I just stared at it. “Yeah, sorry about the bonfire. I had no part in that, believe me.”
“Why should I?” I countered. “The first time we met, you asked if I was interested in going somewhere ‘private,’”I held up my fingers to emphasize the word—“then the second time, you and Phoebe looked very cozy while she ran her mouth.”
He held his hands up. “Hey, I wasn’t trying it on with you, I swear, and that thing with Phoebe that was already over. Besides, it's not me she wants to get cozy with, it’s lover boy, here”—he thumbed toward Quinn—“She just wants more of Quinn’s dick.”
I glared at the blond jerk, my mouth drawing into a tight line.
“Layton, for fuck’s sake!” Quinn complained, his arms wide.
“Shit, sorry.” Layton rubbed the back of his neck. “I have a habit of saying stupid shit. Ignore me.”
“Yeah, I will,” I retorted, slowly murdering him with my eyes.
“Can you give us a few?” Quinn asked, gesturing to the door.
Layton saluted. “Sure thing. I’ve got to go make my collections, anyway, so I’ll be back in fifteen.” Before he shut the door, he poked his head back in. “If you’re gonna fuck in here, please don’t do it on my chair.”
“Jesus Christ!” Quinn yelled.
“I’m out!”
Quinn rubbed his forehead while turning full circle, giving me a little time to watch him move. The curve of his spine, the angle of his hips, the V pointing into his black waistband… And his back, the glorious Raven seeming to come alive as his muscles flexed.
“I…” He sucked a long breath through his nose, then slowly released it out of his mouth.
I perched on the edge of the narrow counter, crossed my arms over my body, tucking my hands under. “That’s a start.”
“I had no intention of… How things turned out…” He pulled on his hair. “I wanted to say something, but your mom was there.”
I dry laugh escaped my lips. “You? Quinn, the superstar fighter, didn’t want to say something in front of my mother? You managed to almost say something inappropriate beforehand before I stopped you.”
“This was different,” he snapped.
“I can’t wait to hear this.” I wiggled my ass on the counter, and Quinn stared as I moved. “I’m waiting.”
“I left because I didn’t know what else to do, okay?” he said, his voice low. He moved toward me, speaking quieter still. “I’d literally just been inside of you, and your mom walked in, asking if everything was good when my dick was still hard. It obviously wasn’t okay, Kinny.”
I cocked my head to the side. “If that’s true, what did you want to say at the door until my mom appeared again?”
He moved in front of me, his fingertips brushing my knees, the slight sting making me wince. “It doesn’t matter now because it’s too late.”
“Try me,” I said when he began paying attention to my legs.
“I, uh, wanted to say that I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Why would you think that you hurt me?” My brows dipped in confusion.
He looked down to where his fingers were circling the cuts on my knees. “I had some, uh, a little blood on me. When I was getting dressed, I noticed it. I didn’t know, and I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.”
My face flamed, my cheeks turning a deep shade of red. “Oh, God.”
“Yeah. That’s why I left. I wanted to tell you I was sorry because it shouldn’t have been me. You said you’d regret it just before you kissed me, and I guess I realized why.”
“Is that true?” I asked, unfolding my arms and reaching toward him, my fingertips touching his as they worked over my knees, touching the small holes in my leggings.
“Fucked up, right?” He jerked his chin toward the direction of the barn. “I can go in there and be ready to break or be broken—to spill my blood as well as theirs. I can execute a perfect plan to fuck shit up at a moment’s notice, but when it came to that… I had nothing.”
Execute a plan? What plan? What the hell is he talking about?
It wasn’t my business, and I had no right to ask, and with what I’d just seen, I didn’t know whether I wanted to find out.
“I thought I’d done something wrong.”
He slowly lifted his eyes to mine, and the animal I’d seen there before had disappeared. It'd left behind a vulnerability I’d seen only once before... When he was about to slide inside of me. “No, it was me. I panicked, Kinny. I don’t know why, but when I saw what I’d done to you, I fucking panicked. I reacted badly and said something I shouldn’t have—something I didn’t mean.”
I lifted my hands and cupped his jaw, gently tilting his head up, careful around the increasing swelling of his injuries.
“You, Quinn, are an idiot,” I said, holding back a smile. The hurt, rejection, and shame dissipated in the blink of an eye. “If I didn’t want it to be you, if I didn’t want what happened, then it wouldn’t have.” His eyes snapped to mine. “You didn’t do anything to me except piss me off with your silence.”
“You could’ve sent me a text,” he mumbled, but his lips had turned up.
“Oh, no, mister. You can’t use that one. You’re the one that walked away from me without reason.”
With
my hands still on his face, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead. “Now, I’m glad it was me.”
“So, this is you?” I asked, touching the bruises on his cheek. “Who you are?”
He shrugged. “This is me,” he replied, his expression void of emotion. “It’s not going to change.” He watched me as though he was checking for some kind of reaction.
I shook my head, watching him for the same. “Nobody’s asking you to, Quinn.”
“Yo, put your clothes on, you two, we’re coming in,” Layton shouted, banging on the window.
“Dude,” Josh complained from outside the RV. “They’re not fucking in there, have some class.”
“Oh, yeah, no shower.” He banged again. “My bad.”
Quinn moved away from me but took my hands in his as the pair entered with an enormous wad of cash.
Jesus Christ.
“Seriously, Q,” Layton said as he stuffed handfuls of hundreds into the envelopes. “You can take a vacation. Heal, get some fucking sleep cos you sure as shit haven’t had any the past couple of nights.” He handed an envelope over to Quinn, thicker and more substantial than the other three.
Quinn placed the envelope next to me. “No vacation, but I’ll sleep better tonight,” he replied, casting me a knowing glance. “I just had to get something off my chest.”
Josh snorted a laugh, jerking his chin toward the door. “Yeah, and it was a two-hundred-and-ten-pound asshole.”
Quinn smirked but didn’t look away. “Yeah.”
Chapter 11
Quinn
‘Come over.’
I waited for Kinsley’s reply while I finished cleaning the place up. I hadn’t been home much, and when I was, I was in the basement working on my frustrations, or in my bedroom trying to study but finding myself needing to jerk off when I thought of the lack of studying I did with her.
Every fucking day since, my dick would rise just at the mention of her name, the thought of touching her…
“Fuck.” I re-arranged my junk, the uncomfortable seam of my jeans restricting my growing hard-on, trying to shift it out of the way.
It was as though that one time, my body had decided that fucking was now as essential as breathing, which made no sense to me at all. I knew biology; I knew that when you first started fucking, it would make the urge stronger, but it hadn’t until now. Fuck, this was painful.
My phone beeped twice.
‘Now?’
‘Is anybody home?’
My brows drew together at that question.
‘Yes, and nobody else is here but me.’
I put my phone down with a little more force than I meant, and toyed with the black elastic on my wrist. I scrubbed over my jaw, then picked up the spray to finish cleaning the countertops.
‘Sure. Text me the address, and I’ll be there.’
I stared at the screen, fired off the address, then placed it back down. I broke out in a sweat, perspiration beading across my forehead, and trickling down my spine.
I swiped my hand over my sensitive face, my palm clammy afterward.
“What the fuck?” I went upstairs to my room and stripped off, peeling my damp, gray T-shirt over my head, seeing the wet pits and the dark stripe on the back.
I had to get a shower.
I saw Kinsley’s Prius pull up outside next to the curb, and I jogged downstairs to open the front door, seeing her illuminated figure through the rectangular glass panels either side. My pulse raced as her figure grew closer, my hands curling and opening before I turned the handle to see her.
“Hey,” she greeted with a broad smile, her lips wide, showing her teeth. Her eyes sparkled in the streetlights, enhancing the jade color as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
My eyes dropped to the white fabric of the top underneath her blue jacket, the hint of a black bra underneath.
Fuuuck meee.
“Hey.” I flicked my eyes to the house across the street, noticing the twitch in the blinds from the audience gathering inside. “Can you look pleased to see me?” I whispered, glancing again. “Like I’m the best thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Aww, baby, you are the best thing I’ve ever seen,” she replied in a cutesy voice, mocking me. “Come here and give me some sugar, my Adonis, my Greek God, my—”
“Okay, you don’t have to lay it on,” I said, my insides sinking.
“I’m kidding.” She reached me, her jaw dropping when she took the three steps to the porch. “Oh, my God.”
Her eyes roamed my face, her small hand lifting to touch the purple blotches across my eye and jaw, then delicately brushed over the grazes on the other side.
“It’s fine,” I said, taking in her examination of my features.
“No, it’s not fine, Quinn,” she snapped. “I thought it looked bad at the time, but I knew most of it was just blood and dirt, but this…” Her eyes met mine. “You look like—”
“Quasimodo?” I asked, my lips tilting up on one side.
Kinsley deadpanned. “Yes. I get it, I do, but don’t think I like seeing you like this, okay?”
“Wow, I’m getting the feeling you actually care about me. I might start to think we’re friends.”
“Don’t get ideas above your station, Quasi,” she said quietly, her lids at half-mast. Then she licked her lips while looking at mine. “Is this the part where I kiss you hello?”
I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her to me as she wrapped hers around my shoulders. “Yes, it is.” She was warm against me, her frame fitting perfectly against mine, arching as I leaned over her.
“I take it Phoebe’s watching?”
I couldn’t look away from her mouth, or that fucking freckle that I wanted to lick. I nodded once, waiting for her to shut the hell up so I could take what I needed. “Mhm.”
She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, slowly releasing it, the plump flesh paling under the pressure. Fuck, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. They parted at the same time she stood on her tiptoes to reach me, her mouth pressing against mine so softly, I had to stop myself from taking more.
I held my breath when her tongue ran along my bottom lip, and I opened, then darted mine out to meet hers, her quiet moan making my dick stand to attention.
“We should go inside,” she whispered against my mouth, her breath ghosting over my wet lips.
“Just one more,” I demanded, then took my time closing my mouth over hers, tasting inside and sucking on her lower lip before releasing it. “Better.”
“Wow, I’m getting the feeling you actually might like me,” she teased with a wink.
I don’t like you.
I dipped my head and ran my nose up the side of her neck, her gasp kicking me right in the balls. “We should go in now,” I whispered, then kissed under her earlobe. Her arms tightened around me, pulling me against her so hard I could feel her tits. “But…”
She pulled back. “But what?” her wide eyes had me chuckling.
I let my hands slide down, over her hips and down her thighs. I gripped as I crouched, then hoisted her up, wrapping her legs around me as she shrieked in surprise. I held her toned ass in my palms as I turned around. Big mistake. Immediately, I thought about holding her against the wall, stripping her down and watching her come as I took her right there.
Not happening.
“Quinn!” Her light laugh hit me in the chest, her gorgeous face fucking melting me.
I walked into the house and kicked the door closed behind me before slowly lowering her to the floor. I bit back my groan as she slid down my body. I turned the catch, then gestured toward the kitchen.
I cleared my throat. “This is where I live.”
Kinsley followed me to the small kitchen, taking in the white cupboards and oak countertops. “Looks and smells so clean in here,” she said, turning to see the black breakfast bar on the other side of the counter. “Not what I expected from three guys sharing.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “We’re pre
tty tidy. Well, when Layton gets off his ass and cleans up after himself.”
“I like that you don’t like mess,” she said, surprising me. “It shows you care about your home rather than using it just to dump your stuff.”
“I grew up in a dirty house,” I blurted out, and she spun around. “Mine’s never gonna get that way, ever.”
“I understand,” she replied, turning back to look around at the plain white walls and chrome surrounds. “I’d be the same way, too. It’s understandable for you to be that way.”
Kinsley surprised me more and more with every word that came out of her mouth. Her lack of judgment was so unexpected, but would it be like that if she knew everything? Everything about my past, or worse, my present? How would she react if she knew what I’d done? What the three of us had planned right here in this kitchen?
Would she understand then?
I swallowed hard at the image that picture painted in my head, and I didn’t fucking like it. There was one thing I had yet to do, and even if Kinsley knew and tried to stop me, I wouldn’t.
“Honestly, I was expecting a vase of flowers and an open fire,” she said with a giggle after I showed her the living room. When I raised a brow, she rolled her eyes. “Okay, I wasn’t, but it’s warm and inviting.” She turned fully to me, narrowing her eyes, her skeptical gaze on me. “Do you have a housekeeper?”
The beige fabric sofas were clean, no stains, the light cream drapes were bright, the fabric decent and heavy. The striped markings on the floor showed I’d not long vacuumed the navy blue carpet.
“No. We just like to keep a tidy house.”
She eyed me again. “You didn’t make an effort for me, did you?”
I laughed, but heat traveled up my neck. If it wasn’t for the marks on my face, I’m pretty sure Kinsley would’ve seen me blushing like a dumb-ass. I never blushed, ever, and I could hold my shit instead of reacting, but her standing there in my house was fucking with my ability to keep my damn cool.