by Shel Stone
“Thanks for being honest with me,” Aggie said as she rose from the chair, stroking her hand across his shoulder as she walked past. He still had no idea what that meant for the state of their relationship, but the ball was in her court now and he was happy to live with whatever outcome she chose.
Burying the hatchet with Aggie had been surprisingly easy. She’d understood his motives, or said she did. Without a doubt, Trish would not be as forgiving. He could well imagine the death stare she would give him, but what did it matter? He’d already managed to poison that well beyond repair. Everything was more complicated with Trish and as much as he hated someone intensely disliking him, he wasn’t sure he could repair things with her.
Turning his head, he watched as Aggie walked into the club building on her way out to the car park. Her thighs looked awesome in her tight jeans. Shame if he lost that, but then again, he quite liked how uncomplicated his life had been before Trish and Aggie moseyed in. Maybe this was the best thing that could have happened.
Chapter 45
TONIGHT IT WAS JUST a little harder to get into the groove, but Adelaide tried her best, pulling deep to get the dancing right. Hard thoughts kept interrupting her throughout the night.
This was what Quentin was referring to, her job. It wasn’t acceptable in his crowd—a crowd she definitely wasn’t going to fit into. Never would. The discomfort only intensified as the night went on, as there was a thought underneath that she refused to acknowledge.
Taking her break a little early, she moved backstage and took a water bottle out of the small fridge just for them, rolling it over her forehead.
“You okay?” Jesus’ deep voice said, startling her as he stood in the doorway behind her with a clipboard in hand, his expression neutral.
“Good,” she replied with a smile, “just managing the temperature.”
A curt nod and he moved away, out of sight. As opposed to what Quentin thought, she couldn’t just dump this job and look for something ‘appropriate’. She had rent to pay and if she didn’t have any money, she would starve. Quentin just didn’t get that. It was all fluid to him. There was always a cushion of money available to him, and he lived rent free as it was. And seriously, why would an interior designer hire her when the last job on her CV was dancer at Shine. She wasn’t exactly the exclusive private school material these people went for, irrespective of what Quentin thought.
The sad truth was that they wouldn’t make it. Adelaide closed her eyes and let her head drop back. There, she’d said it—admitted it. They weren’t going to make it. Too different. Her world and his plain didn’t mix. She was never going to fit into some interior design outfit. First of all, she had no interest in that area. Second, she didn’t want to change to fit into some group she never had a chance of fitting into. So why even try?
“Fuck,” she swore, tearing the cap off the water bottle and taking a large swig, which froze her teeth. What chance did she really have with Quentin anyway? He was toying around and she was just his latest conquest, mesmerised by how different she was. It was all just fleeting and she’d be an idiot to change her life around to suit someone who would be yesterday’s news in a matter of weeks.
This actually hurt more than she’d anticipated, even as she, if she were honest with herself, had known this was coming from the very start.
“You alright?” Trish asked, pushing past into the cramped changing rooms.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Because you look like someone ran over your dog.”
Adelaide snorted, taking a look at herself in the mirror. Maybe someone just had. “It’s just a tough night.” She could have talked her and Quentin’s issues out with Trish as soon as she’d returned from that horrid dinner when Quentin had voiced his concerns about her job, but for some reason, she’d chosen not to. Trish’s response didn’t take much guessing and it would have reached the same conclusion she just had. So she hadn’t mentioned it, probably because at the time, she didn’t want the cold, hard truth spelled out to her.
Now it was just a matter of deciding what to do. In one respect, she didn’t want to do anything, preserve the life in this terminal relationship a little longer. She would miss Quentin when it was over. They were seeing each other tomorrow when she had a night off. In the meantime, her heart would just ache through the rest of the evening, knowing that tomorrow, they would end.
*
“Hey,” Quentin said as she stepped into his car outside the girls’ house. Leaning over, he kissed her and Adelaide breathed in the lovely scent of him mixed with whatever cologne he wore. She loved how he smelled. Everything about him was lovely. A frown crossed her brow, but then she smiled back at him when he moved back into his seat and accelerated away. “You hungry?”
“Yes.”
“How about Italian?”
“Fine.” She could do with a bit of pasta. Actually, she needed to eat heaps more now that she was dancing all night. Her hunger had grown exponentially.
“Any luck with finding a place?”
“Yes,” she said, brightening a little. “We found this apartment, not that far from here, a two bedroom, and it has a pool. It’s gonna cost a bit more, but we’ve both decided it’s worth it.”
“You’ll have to have a house warming party.”
“It’s a pretty small place, but there is a barbeque area downstairs. I suppose we could have a little get-together.” With the dramas with Chrissy, that might be a messy affair at the moment as she was now so uncomfortable to be around, but then not inviting her would only escalate the drama. Maybe flagging the whole idea was the better choice.
Dark thoughts encroached again and she felt a twinge of sorrow, because even if they did have a party, Quentin wouldn’t be there.
Traffic was building up and Adelaide stared out the window, watching Marbella redistribute itself for the evening. It didn’t take long to get into Porto Banus and Adelaide threw a quick glance down along the marina, spotting that Alexi’s boat was actually out somewhere. Another twinge of sadness hit her. Inadvertently she’d given up a job she loved for him, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Even though they were now finishing, she wouldn’t regret knowing him.
“You alright?” he asked, his eyes dashing between her and the road. Did everyone pick up that there was something wrong with her? Was she that easy to read?
He pulled into a carpark and Adelaide got out, joining him as he was tucking his shirt into the back of his pants. Placing her arm around his waist, she pressed herself close to him. She would miss this awfully.
“You been here before?” Quentin asked as he walked them towards a restaurant and Adelaide shook her head. These restaurants were not the kind of places they could afford.
The maître d seated them right away and Adelaide scanned the menu. She was going to order Spaghetti Bolognese, which was probably the most naff thing she could order, but she didn’t care. She loved Spaghetti Bolognese, even if everyone thought it was a kid’s dish.
The waiter took their order and it was just them now. “So what you’ve been doing?” he asked.
“Nothing really. Just working.”
“Give any thought to what I said.”
“Quite a lot, actually,” she said with a little chuckle that tasted bitter.
“You want me to talk to Aggie?”
“No. I’m not going to change jobs.”
A slight frown crossed Quentin’s brow. “You know we talked about this. It’s just social suicide that job.”
Adelaide bit her lips together, drawing a deep breath through her nose. She didn’t want to do this, but it needed to be done. Better now than going through this whole palaver to learn that the inescapable truth really was inescapable. Ending this on a sweet note was better than dragging it out. “I know, Quentin, but this, us, is just a square peg in a round hole.”
“What are you saying?” His frown drew deeper.
“I’m never going to fit into yo
ur world. I’m never going to be one of those girls that drive a convertible Merc and read Vogue, and have a nice quaint job with some interior designer. And I don’t want to be. It’s just not me.” She felt small under Quentin’s gaze.
“They’re not big deals, none of them.”
“But the underlying issue is. We just don’t fit together, and that’s that.”
Quentin sighed with disappointment, apparently unsure what to say. “Adelaide.”
“I don’t want to be some watered down version of me just to fit with your friends. This is me. I work as a dancer in a club. I get drunk with my friends. We backpack around Europe, stay in cockroach-infested hostels, and I love it. You want me to leave all that behind.”
“I don’t.”
Adelaide groaned, because his little speech about her job had been just that. ”It’s just not going to work. It’s been lovely and I adore you, but we’re chalk and cheese when it comes down to it. And I’m not going to change, for you or anyone.”
“So that’s it? No discussion?”
“What’s there to discuss? Can you tell me that what I’m saying isn’t true? How do you see this playing out?”
Quentin just stared at her and in that moment she knew that he’d been having the same concerns. This was all nice in theory, but the real practicalities were awkward and uncomfortable. And it wasn’t like she wanted him to change either. He should be what he was, in full colour.
“Let’s just have a nice night, okay,” she said. “Let’s go home and just be tonight, and then in the morning, we’ll go our separate ways. You know it’s for the best.”
The food arrived and the overly cheery Italian waiter clashed with the mood. “Would pepper be good, yes?” he asked, holding a massive pepper grind.
“Sure,” she said and the smell of pepper filled her nose as the black flakes fell on her food. The awkwardness only grew until the waiter finally left.
Quentin didn’t say anything and Adelaide felt like groaning and closing her eyes, but instead she smiled. “Let’s just have a nice night. A date.” He looked away from her across the restaurant, ignoring his food for a moment.
“If you wish,” he finally said and started eating his creamy linguini.
It was done, Adelaide thought, now hoping he wouldn’t spend the rest of the evening sulking and ignoring her. The fact that he didn’t argue said a fair bit—he knew this was for the best.
Chapter 46
THE RIDE HOME HAD been quiet and Quentin had considered taking her straight home, dropping her off and never speaking to her again, but he also knew she was right. This was the right thing to do and he shouldn’t be angry with her.
Grabbing her hand and entwining his fingers in hers, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He actually respected her for doing this, and he should get over his own little hissy fit at it—and this relationship was getting tight and uncomfortable in more ways than just her job. It had all seemed to take a left turn somewhere and he hadn’t known what to do. “Sorry I was a bit grumpy; I just needed a moment to process.”
Shifting in her seat, Adelaide turned to him, stroking the hair along his temple. It felt good, but there was also a sense of relief. The stress of fitting this square peg into a round hole, as she had said it, was lifting off him, because trying to give their relationship a footing that worked had sat in his mind over the last week. He could now let go of what was turning into some twisted Eliza Dolittle thing. And the fact that she recognised it and knew it was stupid only made him respect her more. “You’re a cool girl, Adelaide. Did I ever tell you that?”
“Once or twice. And why are you still surprised?”
He smiled as he pulled in through the gates of his house. They would have a last evening together and he wanted to enjoy it. Pulling up by the door, he got out and met her on her side of the car, placing his hands on her neck and kissing her. There was something a little liberating in this; he couldn’t deny it. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “Do you want a drink?”
“Sure.”
Walking through the house with her in tow, he opened the large sliding doors to the exterior covered seating area. The smell of the sea met him as the air rushed in and he indicated for her to take a seat, while he went to the bar and poured them some drinks.
When he returned, she sat with her legs across his lap and he stroked down them. “I adore your legs,” he said, feeling sadly wistful for a moment.
She smiled in the pale light of the carefully crafted lighting. “You get what I’m saying, though, don’t you?” she asked earnestly.
“I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. It’s too big a gap.”
“And I’m only really here temporarily. I live in New Zealand.”
Stroking down her bare shoulders, he looked at her golden skin, her lips so achingly kissable. “It’s a shame.”
“We have tonight.”
“Yes,” he said, leaning over to kiss her, her lips sweet and soft. Heat rushed straight to his cock. There was definitely something else he would miss, direly, but letting her go was the mature thing to do. He was asking too much of her and he just needed to let her go.
His hand stroked up her leg, moving higher up the inside of her thigh. Her moan only made him harder, her body opening for him so sweetly, welcoming him. Moisture met his fingers when he touched her panties and he pressed into the soft folds underneath. Pleasure soaked through his mind, making the world waver, and it was nothing compared to what was to come, when he sank fully into her honeyed body.
“It is cruel of you to ask me to give this up,” he said, leaning over further and nuzzling into her neck, tasting her sweet skin. His cock pressed between her legs and the friction sent sharp shivers of pleasure coursing through him. Waiting wasn’t really an option. He was going to blow his load if he didn’t get on with it. Knowing this was their last night only made things sweeter, more intense, as if there was something forbidden about it.
Her breasts swelled out of her dress as she breathed hard underneath him. Leaning down, he kissed the mounds, pushing the material of the dress down to release the taut nipples. She arched into him as he took one of the buds into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.
“Oh God,” she panted underneath him, pressing her hips to his. She was burning up for him and he loved it. But he wasn’t going to last just watching her like this.
Reaching down, he unzipped himself and his cock sprang free, aching through its painful engorgement. Her long, smooth legs wrapped around him and she was waiting for him. Panties were a problem, but he was too far gone to untangle everything to get them off. Instead, he pulled them aside and pushed into her, into the velvet heat of her. Pleasure threatened his consciousness, and worry that he would blow his load just entering her pulled him back from the edge. He stilled, just enjoying being buried in her, her hands on his backside drawing him deeper. “You know, you’re not going to be able to live without this.”
A strangled gasp and her pleading eyes revealed it was a fear she harboured. He felt like purring. No, he was going to make it hard for her. If they were going to end, he wanted her aching for him. Rolling his hips, he pressed into her with just enough force that her legs shook around him, at his mercy. Then stilling again. She wanted to come, but he wasn’t going to let her yet.
It took a Herculean effort to stop himself from climaxing as he ground into her, feeling her desperation grow as he gave her just enough to ratchet the tension that little bit more.
“Please, Quentin,” she begged, her voice breathy and breaking.
“Yes, my darling?” he teased, staying still inside her.
“More,” was all she could manage.
Quentin smiled, feeling strong and potent above her. He smoothly thrust into her again and again, her body tightening around him. He could feel her insides pulsing around him, milking him. In truth, he was losing it as well, and as she forcefully arched underneath him and cried through her orgasm, his release rushed throug
h him suddenly and powerfully, drawing everything he had out of him.
His head was in the crook of her neck again once he regained consciousness, still buried deep in her, softening by the minute. Her lips were on his cheek, kissing through ragged breaths.
“Sure you can do without this?” he smiled, tasting the salt on her skin, the taste of her sending reviving echoes down to his cock. Her slim arms held him across his shoulders, her hand fisted in his hair.
*
Being their last night together, he couldn’t seem to stop wanting her, his cock growing hard after each powerful and quivering release. He’d gotten her back to his bed, which was now stripped of linen and it was just the two of them in their naked glory.
Yet again, he moved inside her, buried as deep as he could go. There was nowhere else worth being. How would he bear to be without this, he thought. Their bodies fit together so perfectly. Every part of her was beautiful. Her eyes deep pools that drew him in, even here, where the moonlight was all they had, but it was enough.
Seeking lips that felt so necessary and familiar, he kissed her deeply as he gently moved inside her.
No, this wasn’t right. They belonged together. There had to be a way. How could he part with her, with this? “Adelaide,” he said, his voice searching.
“Hush,” she said. “It will be alright.”
Would it? A lump was forming in the back of his throat. This couldn’t be right. In the morning, he would make her stay. They belonged together—made for each other. “We can’t—”
A kiss broke him off and his thoughts dissipated in the sweetness. Nestled in her thighs, his mind flooded again with pleasure as he moved in and out of her, unable to imagine that they could ever be anything other than joined like this.
*