His tongue sweeps up the length of me, making my back arch. Needing more of what he’s got to give, I thread my fingers into his hair and hold him down. His chuckle only adds to the sensations he’s causing.
Sooner than I was expecting, with two fingers deep inside me and his tongue circling my clit, I come all over his face. He doesn’t stop until the last tremors of my orgasm have subsided. When he sits up, it’s with the smuggest smile playing on his lips.
“Pleased with yourself?” I ask with a laugh.
He crawls over me, holds my face in his hand and stares deep into my eyes. “You just screamed my name over and over. Of course I’m fucking pleased with myself.”
I go to laugh, but his lips cover mine. I hesitate because…morning breath, but it doesn’t seem to bother Joe as he slips his tongue inside my mouth. I eagerly return his kiss, the fire he’d doused inside me sparking back to life the second I taste myself on him.
Without breaking our kiss, he situates himself at my entrance, and we both sigh when he slowly slides inside me.
Last night we fucked, and we fucked hard. Hence my aching muscles this morning. But this, this is something totally different. It’s slower, it’s more…sensual, and when he pulls back and looks into my eyes, I can’t help but feel like he’s trying to tell me something. Something I’m nowhere near ready to accept or deal with. Tears sting my eyes, and I fight to keep them down, but when he drops his forehead against mine, his hand splayed across my throat possessively, I can’t prevent one escaping.
His eyes darken the moment he sees it, and he lifts his hand so he can wipe it away.
“Fuck, Quinn.” He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t need to. His eyes say it all as he searches mine, I fear trying to find the same things that he’s feeling right now.
I’ve no idea if he finds what he’s looking for, but after a second or two, he drops his lips back to mine and kisses me until we find our simultaneous releases. It’s different to the previous ones he’s given me. It’s calmer, slower, but by no means any less earth-shattering.
“Come on, let’s shower.” He gets up and walks to the bathroom. My heart drops when I see the slight slump to his shoulders. Did I just disappoint him somehow?
He washes me thoroughly, but although he’s attentive, I still can’t help but feel like he’s suddenly holding back. I want to ask, I’m desperate to, but I’m also aware that asking him too many questions will probably come with consequences: him asking some of his own. The thought of trying to explain everything has my heart racing in panic.
* * *
“Have you been here before?” he asks when we step from the hotel hand-in-hand with bellies full of an incredible fried breakfast and fresh fruit.
“Yeah, I think I came here on a school trip years ago, but I hardly remember it. You?”
“No, never. I’m a Londoner through and through.”
“You’ve never left?”
“Of course. I had holidays and stuff as a kid, but they were always abroad.”
“That must have been nice,” I say, thinking that I’d have loved to get out of our little town and experience some of the world.
“Yes and no.”
“Oh?”
“Pass,” he says. His hand tightens in mine, and I feel him physically shut down. I hate it, but at the same time part of me feels glad that I’m not the only one holding back. I feel less guilty about hiding my past from my possible future. My future, is that what this is?
We have an incredible morning visiting all the sights—Shakespeare’s home and his wife’s childhood home, along with others that are connected to his life.
The history is incredible, and I find myself picturing what it must have been like for him back then, writing such epic literature in such a stunning place. I don’t have a creative bone in my body, but even I feel inspired being here.
We stop in a café for a light lunch before heading for the Church of the Holy Trinity. The building is out of this world. Its age, its history, everything about it just blows me away, and I’m not ashamed to admit that it drags a little emotion up into my throat as I stand and stare.
“Are you okay?” Joe whispers in my ear when he notices the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“Do you want to just sit for a bit?”
Nodding, I make my way over to the closest pew and slide along a little so he can sit beside me.
He’s silent, allowing me the time I need to deal with my thoughts. I stare ahead at the chancel, taking in the ornate carved wood and the huge stones that make up the building. Suddenly, without realising, words start tumbling from my mouth.
“I’m married.” Joe gasps beside me, but otherwise he does nothing other than to continue staring ahead and allow me to speak. “I was promised to him from as early as I can remember. I know that sounds incredibly old fashioned, but my parents were—are—really traditional. There was never any other option for me despite what I really wanted. I had no choice. I went along with the wedding, telling myself that I’d learn to like him, love him even, but it was never meant to be.
“I was terrified of disappointing my father. He…he has a terrible temper, and I could only imagine what my refusal would result in, so I toed the line, kept their secrets and swept their indiscretions under the carpet like I’d watched my mother do all my life. It was normal. It was my life. We lived in this little bubble, and the days just passed while I dreamt of other things.
“I knew from the get go that we weren’t a match made in heaven, but there was no way I could shame my parents and leave. But then…” I trail off, not wanting to go into details of the reason I couldn’t deal with it all anymore.
Joe blows out a long breath, and I find myself releasing the air I didn't know I was holding. I immediately feel lighter for confessing just a small part of the secret I’m forced to live with.
“My parents disowned me when I was fifteen, after they found out I was bi.” His words are flat, cold, and my heart aches for the little boy that’s clearly still so hurt by that.
“Arseholes,” I mutter, not meaning for the word to come out aloud.
“I couldn’t agree more. I mean, I’ll be the first to admit that I was an awful teenager, but I didn’t mean to make their lives hard. Well…not in the beginning. I was just trying to figure out who I was and where I fit in the world. Then they discovered me and the boy next door at the bottom of our garden, and I became and even bigger threat to their perfect life. The only way to stop me ‘ruining everything’ was to get rid of me.”
We both sit in silence, the words we just said hanging heavy in the small space between us. The last few minutes might have been intense, but I feel better than I have in a long time.
I don’t need to see his head turning to know he’s looking at me, his intense stare burns into the side of my face.
Closing my eyes for a beat, I turn to look at him. His face is expressionless aside from his dark, haunted eyes.
“Thank you, for telling me. For trusting me.”
“I do trust you, Joe. I just…it’s hard for me to go back there.”
“I get it. Take all the time you need.”
“I hope you realise your parents missed out with the choice they made. They should be so proud of you.”
He shrugs. “I’m not so sure about that, I’ve done some pretty fucked up shit over the years. I probably shouldn’t even be allowed in a church.” He glances around, and I can’t help but laugh at the expression on his face.
“Everyone makes mistakes. It helps shape who we are.”
“Do you think that when you think of him?” The disdain in his voice is clear, and it almost makes me regret telling him.
“I’m not sure he shaped me all that much aside from showing me exactly what I didn’t want.”
“You’ve only told me part of the story, Quinn, but I already know that you’re one of the strongest women I know.”
I shrug an
d look away. I don’t see myself that way. As far as I’m concerned, I’m weak. Weak for living someone else’s life for so long, weak for not following my own dreams, and weak for not exposing those around me for who they really were. But I don’t voice any of that for fear of what he might say.
“Shall we move before this gets any heavier?” I ask, hoping for a reprieve from the seriousness of our lives.
“Sounds good.”
Joe slides from the wooden pew and holds out his hand for me. I don’t hesitate in placing mine in his.
Once I’m standing, he leans down and whispers in my ear. “Thank you for not freaking out.”
I glance up at him, wondering if the truth about his life has been haunting him as much as my own has been.
“You can tell me anything. I won’t judge. Our pasts are our pasts. I’d much rather spend my time looking forward than back.”
Chapter Fifteen
I swear I blink and our weekend together is over. Nothing more is said about our confessions in the church, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I’m glad I did it. I wanted to show to Joe that I was trying to let him in, just like he was me, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to spill any more yet. The time is coming. I can only avoid it and the media for so long. With every minute that ticks around, I know I’m a minute closer to another phone call from Detective Barker and reliving my old life in front of a judge. As much as I want justice for the people they've hurt, I also can’t imagine explaining what monsters they are to their faces. They’re men I should love, men I should try to protect. Not testify against.
A shudder runs down my spine, and I pause my packing.
Joe’s hands land on my hips, and he pulls me back into him. His lips trail up my neck until he nibbles around my ear. “I’m not ready to leave this room.” He doesn't need to say the words, the feeling of his erection digging into my arse tells me everything I need to know.
“Me neither.” My head rolls to the side as his kisses continue. He parts his lips and his tongue sweeps across my skin. My heart pounds and my temperature soars, despite only having a Joe-induced orgasm less than thirty minutes ago in the shower.
The atmosphere is heavy as Joe drags both our bags from the bed and we walk out of our little sanctuary.
I let out a giant sigh as the hotel room door clicks shut behind us. Joe squeezes my hand a little tighter in support.
We check out, find his van, and almost before I’ve had time to think we’re on our way back towards the city.
“So your boss doesn’t mind you taking your work van away for the weekend?” I ask again, seeing as I didn’t get an answer when I asked yesterday.
“I sure hope not, because I didn’t exactly ask,” he says with a laugh. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, my boss is banging my best friend. She can help me make him see things from my perspective.” He visibly cringes as the words pass his lips.
“Tell me about her?”
“Who? Lauren?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s…” he sighs, a small smile playing on his lips as he thinks of her. “She’s incredible. One of the strongest women I know, and not just because she’s put up with my shit all these years. We met at a pretty low point in both of our lives, almost like fate. She’s been my rock.”
“She really means a lot to you, doesn’t she?” I don’t know why I ask; it’s obvious from his tone how important she is to him.
“You’ve no idea.”
A weird feeling twists my insides. Is that…is that jealousy? The more I try not to think about it, the more it starts to fester.
“Have you known each other long?”
“Six years or so. I turned up at the office of the company I work for and she was there, the boss’ daughter.”
“I thought she was banging the boss?”
“Long story, but her dad passed away and Ben took over. They now live together, and I’m waiting for a proposal to happen any moment now. What about you, did you leave a best friend behind?”
Sadness washes over me as reality hits me once again. “No. Eddie is actually the closest thing I’ve had to a real friend in a very long time.”
“Eddie?” he asks, his brows drawn together when he glances over at me.
“Yeah. Mr. Boring.”
“Oh, him. I wouldn’t have put you two together.”
“He’s a good guy. He set me up with my flat and got me the job. I just have to look past the fact that he’s from my previous life and knows things about me that I’d rather no one did.”
“Even me?”
I blow out a long, slow breath. “I’ll tell you everything, just…just not all at once.”
Reaching across the centre console, he takes my hand in his, his thumb rubbing the inside of my wrist. It’s a move I’ve never felt before, and it’s more comforting than I want to admit.
The van falls into silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. I run the events of the past couple of days around my head in order to keep my past out, and I can’t help but wish it was Friday night again and that we were driving in the opposite direction.
We’re in the city long before I’m ready, and even sooner Joe is pulling up into my building’s car park.
We both remain seated. The only sounds in the van are that of our deep breathing. I don’t want to get out and, from the tense set of his body, I don’t think he wants to allow me to leave either.
The moment I step out of this car, reality is going to come crashing back down on me. Tomorrow is the start of a new week. I’ve got to walk into college with my head held high like I haven’t spent the weekend with one of my students. I’ve got to pretend that I’m not as bad as the people I left behind. That thought has my heart racing.
I’m not one of them.
I’m nothing like them.
This is…this is more than the nightmares and ruined childhoods they caused.
“Quinn, it’s okay.” Joe’s warm palm gently touches my cheek and encourages me to turn towards him.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, Joe. It’s wrong.”
“Nothing, and I mean nothing, about this feels wrong.” His thumb brushes over my bottom lip. “If it’s too much, just tell me and I’ll quit. I’ll see if I can find a course somewhere else or something, but I’m not allowing it to come between us.”
“You can’t do that. This is your dream, your future.”
“Bettering myself and improving my career is only part of my future. Right now, there’s something else I need more.”
His words hang heavy between us. I desperately want to agree and allow myself to see where this thing between us might go, but I’m scared. Terrified actually.
“Joe, I—”
“Let’s not do this now. Let me walk you up?”
I should say no, but when I open my mouth, those aren’t the words that fall out. “Sure.”
By the time I pull myself from the passenger seat, Joe is already walking towards me, having retrieved my bag from the back of his van.
“If you’re lucky, I’ll give you a little something to tide you over until after work tomorrow.”
Ignoring the heat that rushes through my body, I turn to look up at him. “I don’t remember agreeing to seeing you tomorrow night.”
“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission.”
I want to argue, but the sight of the front door of my building makes me lose focus. The panels where the glass used to be is now two panels of plywood, and the metal by the lock is very obviously buckled.
My heart jumps into my throat, and my stomach turns over. I don’t need any more information to know who it was that caused that.
I can feel it.
As I go to take a step forward, I swear my fucking bones tremble with fear.
Will he be upstairs waiting for me? Was my paranoia warranted? Have I been being followed?
A million and one thoughts and fears hit me at once as I fight to drag in the breath I desperately need while not trying to look like a total
head case in front of Joe.
“What the fuck is wrong with people?” he asks, walking us up to the door and giving it no more than a gentle shove to make it open. “Fucking kids.”
If I were a little more focused on him right now, I might make a joke about the kind of teenager he was, because from the things he’s hinted at this weekend, breaking into a flat building is probably tame for what he got up to.
“They probably just wanted to steal the post or something,” I mutter, not believing a word of it. “I’m okay from here if you want to head off home.”
“I thought I just promised you another orgasm.”
“I know, but I’ve already taken up all of your weekend. I’m sure you’ve got better things to be doing.”
“Absolutely not. Trust me when I say that there’s nowhere I’d rather be, or anything else I’d rather be doing right now than be with you.”
I nod but I don’t really register the words. I know I should be swooning, but I’m too focused on what I’m going to find on the other side of the door.
“I know what you’re trying to do, Quinn, and it won’t work.”
“What’s that?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“You’re trying to hide the fact that you’re scared by pushing me away.”
Damn him.
“I…I…” Sucking in a deep breath, I allow the fear I’m trying to stamp down to rumble down my spine.
“What are you scared of?”
“I’m just being silly. Come on, I’m sure it’s just a broken door.”
He looks at me curiously, but after pausing for a beat he gestures for me to walk into the building.
Everything looks as it usually does as we climb the stairs. The terrible graffiti is still covering the walls. The same bare patches on the steps stare up at me. Every single thing is exactly the same as every other time I’ve been here, until we’re facing my door.
“Fuck,” Joe barks, but I’m frozen in fear at the sight of my door ajar.
He was here.
This isn’t some kind of shitty luck that they chose my empty flat to break into. This has been planned. Planned to ensure I’m terrified in the hope that I’ll bend to his wishes to retract everything I’d accused him of.
Avoiding Temptation: Forbidden Series #6 Page 12