Keeping Quinn: The Next Generation

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Keeping Quinn: The Next Generation Page 15

by Edwards, Riley


  His Quinn. She was a handful, so much like her father, it hurt to watch her fall in love. He wanted to hate it. Wanted even more to hate the bastard who dared to take his baby girl away from him.

  But he couldn’t.

  As a father, he wanted nothing more than for Quinn to have a strong man at her side. And Brice had proved to be that—and he had to hand it to the guy, he had balls. First, Brice showed up at his house with a busted lip and demanded to see his daughter. Then he manned up in a big way and gave Jasper what he needed—couldn’t have been easy for Brice to let his ass swing and admit he loved Quinn.

  And now, Brice had his beautiful, scared daughter pressed against a wall in a goddamn police station, and he’d handled her. The perfect mix of tough and sweet.

  Fuck, this was happening.

  He’d known it before, but watching the two together, he really knew it. And that rumbling in his gut turned bittersweet.

  Jasper followed as Brice led Quinn back to Detective Henderson. He did that thinking he’d take the bitter if that meant his girl got a lifetime of sweet.

  And if Brice fell down on the job, Jasper was lucky enough to have three brothers who would not bat an eye at helping him hide a body.

  But as quickly as the thought flitted through his mind, he knew Brice wouldn’t fall down. He knew that look. He understood it. It was the same look Jasper had given Emily the first time he saw her, the same look Jasper still gave his wife after all these years.

  Quinn was the center of Brice’s world.

  Yeah, Jasper Walker was fucked. And this time when he walked another daughter down the aisle, it was going to hurt like a son of a bitch—yet Jasper couldn’t wait.

  Emily was going to be over the moon, and Jasper loved that. Loved it so much he’d endure anything to see his woman smile.

  * * *

  “Number three,” I told Detective Henderson.

  And for the record, I was standing tall and strong.

  My voice didn’t wobble. My knees didn’t shake. I was scared as fuck but I was brave.

  “Look one more time to be sure,” the detective instructed.

  I stared at the man in front of me, number three, with his dead eyes and cocky demeanor. He didn’t think I’d do it, the asshole was sure he’d get away with stabbing a man in an alley because I’d be too afraid to stop him.

  He was wrong.

  “Number three. I’m positive.”

  Detective Henderson looked at the other man in the room, the accused’s attorney, and smiled.

  “We’re done here.”

  “I’d like the opportunity to depose this witness,” the attorney said.

  “I’m sure you would and you’ll be given that opportunity. However, that’s not today. We’re done here.”

  The attorney looked at me, and much like Mr. Number Three in the lineup, he had cold beady eyes. I fought the urge to cower. But Brice was right, I was a Walker.

  And Walkers did not cower—ever—but especially not in front of pissants.

  I was done.

  Therefore, it was time to leave and get on with my day. And that did not include hanging around a police station.

  20

  “Babe,” I called out and looked down at my watch for the fifth time in five minutes.

  “One more minute,” Quinn called back for the fifth time in the last five minutes.

  It had taken me four days to pull Quinn out of her head after the shit at the police station. Not even taking her to her parents’ house every day so she could spend time with her mom had eased Quinn’s worry.

  Jasper and Emily had shared more than one concerned glance with me—more like a thousand—over the three times we’d been there. Her mother and father both had had quiet words with Quinn but nothing worked.

  By day four, I’d figured Quinn out. She was not a woman you could handle with kid gloves, you couldn’t wrap her in cotton like she was fragile. The more you coddled her, the more she pulled into herself.

  So day four I gave it to her straight and told her to snap the fuck out of it. Straight out, those were my words. And when her emerald eyes flashed then squinted, I knew I had her—the fire returned and she let me have it, both barrels blazing.

  It was beautiful to witness, my girl letting go of the fear and turning it into determination. She was damn tough, and I learned something important: when Quinn resolved to do something, she did it.

  The last three days had been spent convincing her to hold off going back to work. I was not above emotional manipulation, therefore I used it. After I reminded her I’d taken seven days off work and I didn’t want to spend any of those days without her, she relented.

  Tomorrow morning she was going back to work and tomorrow afternoon I was, so tonight we were going out to dinner then meeting Bridgett and Paula for drinks at Pulse.

  But if she didn’t hurry up and finish getting ready, we’d be late for our reservation.

  “Sorry, sorry, I’m ready.”

  The first thing I heard was her heels clicking on the hard wood, then the scent of her perfume as it filled the room with a sultry, elusive smell. Before I turned to face her, I should’ve braced, I should’ve expected it, but I didn’t. Therefore when I caught sight of Quinn, I didn’t guard my reaction.

  “Jesus fuck!”

  I took her in from top-to-toe. The woman had gorgeous hair and a lot of it. Tonight it looked fuller, she’d done something that gave it a sexy wave that made me want to muss it up and fist it. Her face was done up, way more makeup than she normally wore, most of it around her eyes, dark eyeliner that made the green pop. Lips glossed to perfection. When I finished taking in all that beauty, my gaze lowered to her dress.

  “Don’t move,” I growled.

  Those big green eyes made to look even bigger with all that shit around them widened in shock.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I want to look at you in that dress for a minute before you turn your fine ass around and change.”

  “Change?”

  “You’re not wearing that out.”

  “What?”

  “No fucking way are you leaving this house in that goddamned dress, baby. Though you’ll be putting it back on as soon as we get home because I’m gonna fuck you in it with you bent over and it bunched around your hips.” Now that I’d said it, I couldn’t stop the images from drifting through my mind. The clingy red material against all that creamy flesh, Christ. “And the shoes stay on as well.”

  Quinn flashed a beaming smile that made her go from beautiful to out of this world.

  “I take it you like my dress?”

  “No. I’d love it if you turned around and put on jeans and a turtleneck.”

  “But then you wouldn’t get the pleasure of sitting next to me all night in this dress while you’re thinking about what’s under it.”

  “There’s not a damn thing under it, and I know, because I’ve been looking real hard, baby, and there’s no chance you’re wearing panties.”

  “Guess you’ll have to wait until later to find out if you’re right.”

  I knew I was right, and an elicit thrill raced through me knowing my girl wasn’t wearing panties. But this was Quinn and my jealousy knew no bounds. I didn’t want every asshole who caught a glimpse of her to get a fucking hard-on.

  “Quinn—”

  “Think of it as a time-saving effort,” she said and started walking toward me. “You won’t have to wait to pull it up and have your way with me.”

  “Quinn—”

  “And just think how excited I’ll be knowing you spent your night fighting the urge to drag me home.”

  “Baby—”

  “I’m glad you like my dress,” she whispered. “But you should know, it’s all for you.”

  Sweet Jesus, she was killing me. Her hands hit my chest, and she leaned up and gave me a peck, leaving some of her gloss on my lips. Berries. God Christ, she tasted of berries, smelled like innocence, and looked like sin.

&n
bsp; She was trying to kill me.

  “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” I told her. “But you’re gonna be the death of me. Please, Christ, do not bend over or I’ll end up in the tank facing assault charges after I beat some asshole’s face in.”

  “I won’t bend over.” She smiled.

  “Good God, you look beautiful. I didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore stunning but I was wrong. There’s nothing better than you, Quinn. No better feeling than having you on my arm, standing next to me.”

  Her lips started to wobble and her eyes got bright.

  “I never thought I’d have this,” she whispered. “I knew it was real, I’ve seen it happen, but I still didn’t ever think I’d get my chance.” Quinn took a deep breath, and her fingers still resting on my chest flexed, then she finished. “I knew it was you. The first time I saw you smile, I knew I wanted to see that every day for the rest of my life.”

  Fuck me. There it was—five words that rocked me to my core.

  I knew it was you.

  Heaviness hit my soul, our eyes locked, and the enormity of her confession nearly brought me to my knees.

  “Jesus fuck.” The words fell from my mouth and before I could stop myself, I decided to give her something that I knew would freak her out but I thought she should know. “I spent years running scared from you. First time I saw you, your beauty hit me so hard I had to fight to keep my feet. Then you got close and I caught sight of your eyes and the promise they held and I knew you’d knock me on my ass. Knew it, Quinn, down to my soul. I knew I’d never survive you, so I ran instead of taking you and facing the possibility of losing you. You are by and far the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen, and one day, all that kindness, strength, and beauty will be passed down to my kids. And I want at least three, more if you’ll give ‘em to me.”

  “I want more than three,” she whispered. “Maybe four. But I want at least one girl.”

  Another gift.

  So fucking beautiful, I knew my life couldn’t get any better than holding Quinn close, while she was in a sexy dress, fuck-me shoes, all done up for a night out, all of that sexy done just for me, talking about how many kids we were going to have.

  “I’ll make sure you get your girl, sweetheart. But just to say, your father is in the running for sainthood, no way could I handle four of them.”

  Quinn’s lips twitched and love shone in those green eyes. “We did give him a run for his money.”

  “Did?”

  “Okay, maybe we still do. But Dad loves it. He’d be bored stiff if he didn’t have us girls to drive him crazy. Jason was too perfect as a child. He was hard-headed for a spell, but he worked it out.”

  Jason hadn’t turned hard-headed for a spell—her brother had gone through hell during his wife’s long battle with cancer, then he lost her and lost his way. And he didn’t work anything out—Mercy did.

  “You ready to hit the road?” Quinn inquired.

  “Yeah, baby, I’m ready. I want you close all night.”

  “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  Fuck, but I loved Quinn Walker.

  * * *

  One would think three very pretty, very drunk women would be every man’s fantasy, but they’d be wrong. Pure torture.

  First, every man with a functioning dick, and even the ones that need medical help to get an erection, couldn’t tear their eyes off the giggling women.

  Then the topics of discussion varied and changed with a frequency that had my head spinning. The scariest part about that was the women had no issues following the free-for-all. I however got lost, only catching bits and pieces, and the pieces I did catch frightened me.

  It was then I wished Jackson was behaving like a rational person because he’d never believe some of the shit that the three of them talked about. And just to say, I knew women talked about sex, I was almost certain they compared, but good Christ, nothing made a man’s balls shrivel up like hearing just how far they went.

  “Right, Brice?” Paula laughed.

  “Say what?”

  “It matters, doesn’t it?”

  “Woman, I’m trying my best to pretend you’re not talking about whatever it is you’re talking about. Pretend I’m not here.”

  I took a long pull from my beer and looked back over the crowd.

  “But we need to know,” Bridgett complained.

  Against my better judgment, I turned back to the table. My eyes landed on Quinn first, then my gaze slid over the other two smiling women, before hitting Quinn again. She wasn’t smiling, she was biting her lip in an effort not to laugh.

  Good Christ, what did I get myself into?

  “Need to know what?”

  “Do guys like butt sex because it feels better or because it’s naughty?” Bridgett asked and Quinn lost the battle and busted out laughing.

  “Jesus!”

  Quinn was shaking so hard when she leaned into me I, too, shook with the force of her hilarity.

  “Babe? You wanna help me out?”

  “I’m not a guy,” she choked out. “So I can’t answer that for you. Besides, I’m curious, too.”

  “If you’re curious, how ‘bout when we get home, I show you why guys like it so much?”

  “No!” Paula laughed. “You can’t show her, then we won’t know.”

  “Ask your man.”

  “I can’t. We’re new, I don’t know him like that.”

  “Are you bumping uglies?” That came from Bridgett, and serious as shit she yelled it, causing two punks walking by to stop and stare.

  Before I could tell Bridgett to keep it down, Paula being near three sheets to the wind answered just as loudly.

  “Um, yeah. And it’s fantastic. Orgasm every time. Every. Time. Unheard of.”

  “Brice gives me one every time. Most of the time minimum of two. Sometimes three,” Quinn added and I groaned. “And I don’t even have to help.” Quinn sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, which only pushed her tits higher, leaving the two assholes with a perfect view of my woman’s cleavage. A smug, satisfied smile played at her kissable lips.

  “Seriously?” Bridgett breathed her question and leaned in.

  “And he does this thing with his tongue—”

  I cupped my hand over her mouth. “Babe. You think maybe you can have this conversation with your girls when I’m not at the table?”

  Quinn shrugged and Bridgett launched in.

  “Take a walk, Brice. I wanna hear what you do with your tongue.”

  “Fuck, no.”

  “Come on. I’m the only one not getting any. You gotta give me something,” she whined.

  “I got something to give,” one of the punks entered our conversation.

  Tall, built, faded jeans, polo shirt, decent-looking if a woman liked her man with messy hair and a day’s worth of stubble. And by the cocky way he’d barged into a private conversation and had no issue casting a line, he got laid regularly. Enough that if Bridgett didn’t catch his play, he’d shrug it off knowing he’d find what he was looking for by the end of the night.

  Bridgett turned her head, not hiding the fact she was checking the guy out. It was open, it was obvious, and the woman was unashamed in her perusal. I would’ve felt bad for the guy when Bridgett’s eyes stopped on his package, if I hadn’t caught him staring at my woman’s tits earlier hoping for a show.

  “You do?”

  “Oh, yeah,” the guy returned.

  “You think you can do the thing Brice does with his tongue?” Bridgett asked, looking hopeful.

  “Jesus Christ,” I muttered. “Please tell me this isn’t happening.”

  “It’s happening.” Quinn giggled. “Bridgett’s the bomb.”

  The guy hadn’t taken his eyes off Quinn’s friend, and for a second I felt the need to end this. Bridgett had slid past tipsy and was doing her damnedest to skip straight to trashed.

  “Don’t know the man. Got no clue what he does, don’t wanna know. But I’d be more than hap
py to show you what I can do—but what’s more, you’ll be damn happy and that’s a guarantee.”

  The need to roll my eyes was damn near overwhelming, and it must’ve been obvious because Quinn’s hand covered my mouth.

  “All right, player.” Bridgett slid off the high-top stool and stood. “We’ll start with a dance and go from there.”

  I grabbed Quinn’s wrist, kissed her palm, and pulled it away.

  “Not out of my sight,” I growled, unable to hold back.

  “Right.” The guy jerked his chin and led Bridgett to the dance floor.

  His buddy peeled off, probably going to find some action of his own, but I kept my eyes on Bridgett. The woman’s heels were higher than Quinn’s—how they walked in those things sober I had no clue. Tipsy? It was a miracle. But Bridgett did it.

  “Holy hell, he’s hot,” Paula announced.

  “Eh. He was all right. Though he had nice hands. They looked rough,” Quinn added.

  What the fuck?

  “Oh. I missed the hands. He has a nice—”

  “Done!” I announced and both women looked at me. “Time to finish up your drinks.”

  “Aren’t you in a hurry?” Paula laughed.

  “Damn right.”

  “He likes my dress,” Quinn told her. “He wants to get me home and do naughty things to me in it. He likes my shoes, too.”

  “Of course he does. You look hot in that dress. I’m a little surprised he let you out of the house in that number.” Paula checked her phone and looked back up. “Jeremy’s clocking out.”

  I had learned that Jeremy was Paula’s new man, and he was also a bouncer at Pulse. I’d met him briefly at the door when he let us in. He wore a deep scowl until he saw Paula. Then I’d heard the women swooning—yes, they used the word “swooning” —over the way Jeremy had dropped the tough guy persona and smiled at Paula.

  There were a lot of things I didn’t understand about women. Most of the things were due to the fact I’d never cared to learn them. If it wasn’t something that directly pertained to giving and receiving pleasure, I had never been interested.

 

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