“Choose now,” Jonathon said. “Are you taking our sister out, or are you sticking with our agreement… brother,” he spat for good measure, making sure Quentin understood the totality of what his decision would mean for their friendship.
Quentin and Jonathon’s stare-down was so lethal it was like mixing chemicals that would set off an explosive display of bombs.
“I won’t hurt her,” Quentin said.
Jonathon nodded with understanding. “You’re done.”
And with that, Jonathon turned, leaving them all watching his retreating back.
Chapter Eleven
“Let me put some ice on it.”
Phoebe moseyed up to Quentin as he stood staring out the window of his vintage condo. With his arms crossed and his jaw locked, his brooding attitude sucked the air out of the entire room. With a wet cloth in her hand, Phoebe reached to wipe the now dried-up blood from Quentin’s lip when he stopped her, reaching to grab her wrist.
“I’m okay,” he said, his voice thunderous.
Phoebe held her breath for a split second then released it, feeling defeated. When they left the sports bar, Phoebe jumped into Quentin’s 1966 Ford Mustang. During the entire drive over to his place, he’d been quiet, withdrawn, and slightly intimidating. Sinking down to the floor, Phoebe pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Quentin glanced down at her, knowing he wasn’t the only one who felt like the weight of the world rode his shoulders.
Phoebe’s head fell to her knees, and she cried softly. Moving from his idle position in front of the window pane, Quentin followed her to the carpet and pulled her into his lap. Phoebe snuggled there, resting her head against his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she said tenderly. “I never intended for things to get so out of control. I don’t think I realized how anal my brothers would be if we dated.”
Jonathon tugged her nose. “That makes one of us,” he said.
Phoebe glanced into his dark chocolate face, and Quentin brushed his lips against her forehead.
“You’ll understand one day,” he said. His thoughts were naturally all over the place. That much Phoebe could tell.
“This is wrong in so many ways.”
“But not in the ways you think,” he murmured.
“What does that mean?”
Quentin sighed. “I usually pride myself on being a man of my word,” he said. “Can’t say that much now.”
Phoebe’s forehead creased. “I don’t know why you made that ridiculous agreement anyway,” she said.
“At the time, it wasn’t so ridiculous. I had no plan of pursuing you, so it was easy. We were young, but we did agree.”
“And now?”
Quentin sighed again. “Now I think I just lost the only brothers I’ve ever known.”
They both became silent, and the silence thickened around them.
“I’m sorry,” Phoebe said again as a few tears trickled from the corners of her eyes.
Quentin kissed her face, then each eye, then her lips. “It’s not your fault,” he spoke into her mouth. “This one’s on me.”
Phoebe wanted to refute his words, but she found herself leaning into his mouth again. They kissed slow and steady, and with his tongue, Quentin tasted the corners of her mouth. She was so sweet and intoxicating just from a mere kiss that he could only imagine what making love to her would be like. Phoebe’s hungry kisses accelerated, and before long she’d found herself turning full circle to straddle his lap.
Quentin’s hands trailed up her shoulders, and he removed her jean jacket. Her skin was warm to the touch, smooth, and soft like silk. They kissed each other’s face, trailing down the side of their jaw then neck. Quentin’s erection hardened in his pants, and his muscle leaped to pat Phoebe against her crotch. A simmering heat coursed through their loins as they both found themselves passionately enchanted with one another.
“Make love to me, Quentin,” Phoebe moaned. She shivered at the heat from his lips touching her shoulder, but he never made a move to remove her clothes. “Baby,” she cooed, please…” she panted, hotter than she’d ever been before.
Quentin kissed up her shoulder blade to her neck and nibbled on her ear. His tongue swirled around her lobe, and again Phoebe trembled.
“Don’t beg me,” his deep voice strummed. “I’ve broken enough promises as it is.” He kissed the side of her face, but Phoebe stiffened.
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” she said, turning to look at him head-on.
Quentin pulled his mouth from her skin and gazed at her.
“I promised Jordan we wouldn’t have sex unless I married you.”
Aghast, Phoebe’s eyes stretched. “Why would you say that!?”
Quentin buried his head in her chest and held her tight, but Phoebe was beyond annoyed.
“Quentin!” she seethed.
Quentin pulled his gaze back to her face. “They’re worried I’m going to defile you or some shit,” he said, “I needed to give them something to hold on to, so they wouldn’t think I’m just going to love you then leave you.”
“Ugh!” Phoebe screamed, pushing off of his chest to stand on her feet. “This has got to be the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. So not only do my brothers dictate my life, you do, too?” She shook her head in frustration. “I seem to get no say into what happens in my life. Everybody is around here making decisions for me!”
“Phoebe, that’s not what I was trying to do.”
“But you did,” she screeched, “and I’m so sick of this.” She moved from standing over him, and Quentin rose to his feet.
“Where are you going?” he asked with his brows knocked together in a frown.
“Tell the truth, Quentin, you don’t have to spare my feelings.”
“You’re losing me here, sweetheart.”
“When I approached you in your gym earlier this month, you dissed me, like you couldn’t be bothered.”
“No, I didn’t,” he said.
“When we were in Nicaragua,” Phoebe continued, “I was butt naked laid out on a platter for you, and you dissed me again.”
Quentin sighed and gave her a stern look. “I did not diss you,” he said, but Phoebe continued her rant.
“Now you’re doing it again! I don’t understand. What, you don’t like virgins?!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Quentin said.
“Oh, I’m being ridiculous?!” Phoebe was too mad to pace herself. “You’ve gone and made another promise without so much as considering how I would feel about it! No one has! You know what.” Phoebe tossed her hands in the air. “Forget this; if you don’t like virgins, maybe I’ll go gain some experience, then try again, yeah, then maybe I can get you to touch me!”
Phoebe pivoted on her heels but didn’t make it a step before Quentin pounced, grabbing her with a fierce snatch off her toes. She yelped as the strength of his grip caught her between the exit and his towering presence. Her body slammed into the hard shell of his frame, and his fingers dug into her side as he held her against the stringent length of his erection. Phoebe’s arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, and her legs clung to his waist. Taking a few steps toward the nearing wall, Quentin pinned Phoebe into its solid base. Meticulously, his dark gaze roamed over the contours of her face, and he lifted a hand to grip her chin.
“You… are not going anywhere…” his deep voice growled. “So that you understand clearly, sweetheart, I don’t share what belongs to me. And, you… are… mine…”
He bit down on her protruding chin and a guttural sound drummed from his throat. Phoebe shut her eyes as her breathing quickened, and her body sizzled from the predatory claim he staked on her. Quentin’s other hand tread down Phoebe’s thighs and pushed her skirt upward. With a firm rip, he yanked at her pantyhose, shredding the thin fabric with ease. Phoebe’s body torched as his rough warm palms skidded up her legs between her thighs. With his mouth, he kissed around her lips as his fingers ran circles on top of her panti
es.
Phoebe panted softly as her pulse pumped faster. Quentin’s fingers found the corner of the thin garment, and they slipped inside, making contact with her clitoris. Phoebe’s breath caught in her throat, as his fingers roamed around the protruding bud while his tongue traced her mouth. Her heart hammered in her chest with anticipation of what he would do next, and when his tongue invaded her mouth, his finger followed, entering her essence with profound depth.
“Aaaah!” Phoebe gasped as her head fell back against the wall.
Quentin devoured her tongue, sucking it in as his finger grazed against her inner walls.
“Oooh,” Phoebe moaned, her body consumed by a nefarious heat.
A second finger entered her vagina, and Phoebe’s gasp turned into a musical note. “Aaaaah!”
Quentin dragged hot kisses down her jaw and suckled her neck. Phoebe moved against his fingers, her hips bucking slightly and grinding slowly with the tingling ache that pulsed inside her heated canal.
“Quentin…” she purred, so damn hot she was going to melt in his hands. “This is, this…”
“Don’t ever accuse me of not wanting you again,” he said. “I want you, Phoebe,” his fingers moved faster, in a slippery slow fashion, “so fucking bad that I’ve got a notion to tattoo my dick inside you.”
Phoebe’s eyes widened, and a lustful gaze fell over her face.
“I want you so damn bad, Phoebe, that I could literally tear you to shreds.” He kissed her chin while his fingers continued their pummeling cruise. “You turn me on in ways I’ve never known with anyone. Your fucking brains, your fucking beauty, your innocence is refreshing in a way that you could never understand. Right now, I want to keep you pinned against this wall and make love to you so hard, that when you come, you crawl into a fetal position and suck your thumb. I want to make you cry, scream, and rock like a mind-numbed mental patient delirious about what’s going on around you.” He licked his lips and increased the pumping inside her as Phoebe’s eyes nearly crossed with her mouth stretched wide. “You see, when I take you, I want you to be ready because if not, I might damage you, and that’s not being cocky, sweetheart, that’s being sensitive enough to give you a fair warning. Now…” his voice drawled. “Tell me again, how I don’t want you.”
Phoebe’s lips closed, except for the trembling of them. Her ears were heated, and her nipples painfully tight as they pressed against his solid broad chest.
“Nothing?” he said, as he continued moving his fingers inside her. Phoebe’s lips parted, but nothing came out but a whispered moan. “Let’s try something else, my love.” Quentin kissed her open lips. “Tell me, what it is you want, baby.” With his thumb, Quentin massaged her clit at the same time his finger jacked inside her.
“Ooooh…” Phoebe moaned, and Quentin bit down on her lip.
“Tell me,” he whispered against her mouth, willing to give her everything she asked for.
As if she’d turned into a madwoman, Phoebe opened her mouth and leaned into his was a hungry bite, sucking him in with the tenacity of a horny lover.
“I want you, Quentin,” she said. “I always have.” She panted some more. “I’m a virgin because I’ve been waiting for you.” Her voice turned into a whisper: “It’s always been you…”
Quentin’s dark eyes stared into the depths of hers, Phoebe’s admission taking him by complete surprise.
“Take me, baby, I trust you.” She kissed against his chin, and Quentin’s nostrils flared. His heart beat something terrible and getting inside of Phoebe hadn’t come fast enough.
With sheer agility and ease, he removed the thin fabric between her legs with one fierce yank that snapped the garment from her body. Phoebe gasped as Quentin drug the material from her skin, letting it fall to the floor. A zipper grinded, and Quentin’s jeans swiftly joined her panties. With his shaft in hand, Quentin rubbed the head of his dick against the soft film of her labia. Phoebe’s heart rate sped up, and an overabundance of emotions fled through her.
Excitement, fear, wanting, coupled with the satisfaction of their final destination. It all grooved through her on a wave of heightened anticipation. She was relieved of her blouse, shortly followed by her bra.
“Just one thing,” Phoebe added.
Quentin paused.
“Shouldn’t we be in a bed?”
Quentin’s smile was devilish in form. “Why,” he said, “do you think it would be better that way?”
“Um, not better but less painful in the beginning maybe.”
Quentin considered her for a long moment. “If you would like to be in bed, then I’ll take you there. But if you trust me like you say you do, then you know it won’t matter if we’re on the top of the Empire State Building. I’ll make sure you’re all right, love.”
Phoebe didn’t need to be convinced further. “Okay…” she whispered.
Quentin cocked his head to the side. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” she said with a blushing smile.
“Don’t get all bashful on me now; you were talking shit just a few minutes ago.”
A tinkering laugh left Phoebe as Quentin held her with a dark, charming grin. Slipping and sliding along her vagina with his dick, Quentin claimed Phoebe’s mouth as he pushed against her closed vagina, submerging slowly with profound depth. Phoebe’s eyes shot up, and her mouth dropped as pressure so deep split into her center. Her inner sanctum spread to accommodate his girth, peeling open like that of a sealed case being punctured for the first time. His shaft drug alongside her walls and a searing heat wrapped around her skin so thick she was sure to combust in his arms. Instantly, her body began to tremble as Quentin’s dick reached the sensitive anterior that was her G-spot.
A driving force from his speared grind knocked against it, and Phoebe squealed in a waving shiver. It almost made her come immediately, and she closed her eyes tight as a tear fell from the corner of her eye. Quentin kissed down her jaw and dug his teeth into her neck, climbing so deep inside her that he ended up on his toes. When a wallowing cry left her throat, he settled back on his feet and gazed into her eyes.
“I’ll stop if you need me to, just say the word, baby…”
Quentin’s massive hands slipped down her sides coming to a solid grip on the curve of her thighs and ass. Her legs trembled. Softly at first, then with a thundering shudder. Quentin held her there for a long moment; their breaths whispering across the skin of their mouths while they took in the euphoric sensations. As Phoebe’s quivers lessened, Quentin dipped, pulling his lengthy erection out, then gradually easing back in. Phoebe sucked in an abundance of breaths as Quentin stroked her like that of a violin.
“Aaaah…” she sang as she clutched his shoulders, holding on for dear life.
“Are you all right?” he asked as his hips moved, bucking with a steady slow rhythm.
“Mmmm…” Phoebe moaned again unable to respond with comprehension.
“Baby girl,” he oozed, with a voice so thick it made her nipples harder. Phoebe opened her eyes and stared back at his dark brown gaze. “Tell me how you feel.”
Quentin pressed his forehead against hers as heat spiked through his existence.
“Beautiful,” was all she said as she panted into his mouth. He captured her lips in a piping hot kiss as his strokes turned into slow, digging thrusts.
“Damn, girl,” he said as his teeth found the skin of her shoulder.
“Oooh!” Phoebe screamed as he plunged inside her core, and her heart knocked against her chest. “Quentin, baby, ah!”
“Shit…” Quentin ground as he drove into her tight walls, trying desperately to keep his grind slow. “This pussy is so fucking tight, girl. Damn.” He took ahold of her mouth simultaneously, swallowing her tongue.
Their skin torched together, and Phoebe’s nails held a ripping grip on his shoulders. His thrusts connected with her G-spot, over and over as he sank to the depths of her bottom in long titanic strokes. Phoebe’s head fell back, tearing from his mouth as a propell
ing orgasm volleyed through her core. “Oh my God! Quentin!”
Her ears popped, and her muscles clenched, causing Quentin to come with a string of profanity on his tongue. A horse groan fled his throat, and they held on to each other so tight their fingerprints were sure to be branded in their skin. Their elevation had been beautiful, and their descent was just as precise. Quentin pulled her from the wall and carried her down the hallway to his bedroom. Laying down with her clinging to him, Quentin was so tempted to tear Phoebe apart that he almost couldn’t stand it. It would be an absolute blissful undertaking, but he knew she wasn’t ready, and it was important that he take his time with her.
Still buried inside of her cove, Quentin combed his gaze over her face.
“Are you okay?” he asked, tenderly cupping her chin again.
“Yes, that was… everything.” Phoebe dug her nose into his neck, and he kissed the side of her face. “Thank you, Quentin.”
“Why are you thanking me, love?”
Phoebe grabbed a handful of his dreads and pulled the locks out of his face.
“For loving me the way you just did. My body is buzzing like I’ve never felt it before. I feel so alive with energy yet lethargic at the same time. How is that possible?”
Quentin grinned and kissed her forehead, her nose, then her lips. “Your body’s sexual awareness has hit its peak. It happened when you came, beloved.”
“Shit…” Phoebe hissed, causing Quentin to chuckle. “I think I want some more.”
Quentin peered down at her. “You think?”
“Yeah, I’m just afraid that my limbs won’t move.”
A wicked grumble fled from Quentin. “I think we can get them going again,” he said, “but for now, you get some rest.”
“Why, you don’t think I can handle it?”
Quentin knew it was in her nature to put up a brave front. But he could sense from the minor trembles that her body needed the time to figure out what just happened before he could take her again.
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