Holding You

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Holding You Page 8

by Jewel E. Ann


  “You probably shouldn’t, but will you anyway?” His pleading eyes were hopeful.

  I didn’t answer.

  “You were wrong … about me.”

  I wasn’t following so all I did was stare at him and wait for further explanation.

  “The six weeks we were apart, I wasn’t with any other women. My dad died. That day, before our date, I received the call. I knew I would have to leave the next morning, but I meant it when I told you I didn’t anticipate you taking me back to your loft and us … well, you know.”

  As the words left his mouth, I remembered back to the look he had that night when I told him my parents were dead. The hurt in his eyes wasn’t sympathy, it was empathy.

  Given my past, I was all too familiar with death. I’d suffered loss in the worst imaginable ways, and those experiences had taught me that true emotions cannot be defined by words. With that in mind, I did not tell Quinn I was sorry for the passing of his father; words were inadequate, words hurt. They could cut through your heart, but they didn’t have the ability to heal. So I did the one thing I could. Reaching for the roses in his hands, I took them and laid them aside. Then I wrapped my arms around him. He hesitated to return the embrace at first, but eventually I felt his arms reciprocate. That moment was not sexual or desperate; it was an unspoken gesture of compassion and understanding.

  “Thank you,” he breathed in my hair.

  His simple response to my gesture made me think of all the times family and friends had tried to comfort me but failed so miserably. Their words of sympathy were suffocating, inadequate, and down right repulsive to me after a while. I refused to think something so awful was “meant to be” or “God’s plan.” No God I could ever imagine would be so cruel. Predestined didn’t coincide with free will. The truth for me was shit happened, life was not a fairytale, and bad things happened to good people, end of story.

  My eyes filled with watery emotions, the flood gates opened, and I cried. Tears for Quinn, tears for me, but most tears were just because the toxic pain had to be released. It was as much a physical need as an emotional need. He didn’t ask why, he just held me. Then after what seemed like an eternity, I let go and looked into his eyes. He cradled my face in his large hands and wiped away my tears with his thumbs. I sucked in a few jagged breaths and smiled.

  “You’re forgiven.”

  Quinn flashed me his million dollar smile then pressed a light kiss to my forehead, nose, one cheek, then other cheek, both corners of my mouth, and finally, almost reverently, on my lips.

  *

  “I’m surprised the fire marshal hasn’t knocked on the door yet.”

  “Too over the top?”

  I held my thumb and index finger up, a few centimeters apart. “A smidgen, and I’m not just talking about the candles.”

  “You like the roses?”

  “Honestly, I’m more of a lilac and daisy girl, but I mean this suite. It’s too much.”

  “After you ripped me a new one and left me with a serious case of blue balls I knew it would take a grand gesture for you to ever speak to me again.”

  I laughed at the thought of Quinten Cohen, Latin sex god, standing alone in that little bathroom with a raging hard-on and bruised ego.

  “It wasn’t funny. I about had to hand job it to get my pants zipped back up.”

  “No sympathy here, buddy, I had to go back to the party and sit center stage at a piano in this short dress without any underwear!”

  He sat on the edge of the bed, clenched my hips, and pulled me to stand between his legs. Rubbing up and down my bare legs, he released a groan from the back of his throat. “Damn, I forgot you’re not wearing any panties.”

  His hands moved higher until he was gripping my butt, eagerly kneading my muscles and flesh. Liquid heat started pooling at the apex of my thighs. With a naughty grin, he pulled the front of my dress up to my waist, wholly exposing me. The soft kisses he pressed to the neatly waxed skin covering my pubis sent sparks of heat radiating to every inch of my body. He pulled me closer with the hand that was still on my butt, allowing his tongue to dip between my slit.

  “Quinn,” I whispered as my breath hitched.

  “Hold your dress up.”

  My knees felt week so I held my dress up with one hand and put my other on his shoulder to steady myself. He sat up and casually removed his cuff links then unbuttoned his shirt shrugging it off his muscular shoulders. When he stood to remove his pants, I let my dress fall back over me.

  “Uh, uh, uh. Pull it back up,” he demanded.

  Without hesitation I complied, giving him a shy smile. After removing the rest of his clothes, he sat back down. My heart was racing as he moved his middle finger between my legs and slid it inside me. I placed my hand on his shoulder to steady myself while I closed my eyes for a brief moment allowing my body to absorb the sensation. When I opened them Quinn was stroking himself with his other hand. My whole body was flushed. Quinn’s uninhibited, confident sexuality pushed me out of my comfort zone. He encouraged my inner sex goddess to blossom. Each time we were together, he peeled away the layers of self-doubt I felt about myself. I no longer saw ordinary Addy through my eyes, I saw the extraordinary version of myself through his.

  A few moments later he slid his finger out and rolled on a condom. “Take your dress off.”

  My knees felt too weak. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Take. It. Off.”

  Letting go of his shoulder, I reached around to unzip my dress while Quinn steadied my hips. I pulled it over my head and dropped it on the floor.

  “Caress your breasts.”

  What?

  “I—I didn’t think you liked me touching myself?” I distinctly remembered his reaction the night at my loft when I was desperate and tried to touch myself.

  “It’s not for you, it’s for me.” His eyes were dark and hooded.

  Oooohh.

  My ambivalent thoughts gave me pause for a moment but then I started to massage my breasts with a slow kneading motion.

  “Your nipples too.”

  I pinched and rolled my nipples between my fingers, occasionally rubbing light circles on the very ends with my index fingers.

  The dark look on Quinn’s face was the same look I imagined men at strip clubs having when their pants were about ready to bust open watching the dancers. I felt dirty, sexy, ashamed, and empowered all at the same time.

  His sheathed erection was bulging and twitching. I wondered if he was going to orgasm just watching me. He squeezed my hips with his hands while keeping his eyes lustfully glued to the show. Pulling me closer, he slipped his tongue between my slit again.

  “Oh God,” I moaned.

  That time he didn’t stop. He was literally fucking me with his tongue. Over and over, he thrusted it into me. I let go of my breasts and grabbed his hair for support, pushing my hips to him. Thoughts of romance, love, and commitment weren’t even on my radar. Just sex. All I wanted to give him was my body because he played it like I played the piano. And oh … my … God could he make me sing.

  I yanked on his hair until his mouth broke from my center. Shoving him back on the bed, I crawled up beside him and straddled him facing backwards. Gripping his length I rubbed it around my wet entrance then sank onto him until he filled me to the hilt.

  “¡Dios Mío. Usted es tan sexy.” The erotic timbre of his voice was my undoing.

  I started riding him—hard. Quinn tried to slow the pace, but I selfishly insisted on setting it to my liking. Firmly gripping his defined leg muscles for support, I leaned forward so the head of his erection hit my g-spot.

  “Oh my God, right there, yes, right there,” I whimpered, throwing all my dignity out the window.

  My impending orgasm was so close and I sensed his was too. Then on the verge of a Tantric orgasm, it happened. We both exploded at the same time into the most mind-blowing sensation ever.

  “Jesus, Addy!” he growled.

  My body was so overcome w
ith stimulation I couldn’t even form words. Deep moans were all that escaped me. The sensations just didn’t quit. I felt like my body was a fireworks finale. Quinn sat up, his front to my back, not breaking our connection. He finished riding out his orgasm, his arms wrapped around me massaging my breasts and kissing the back of my neck. I arched my back reaching my arms behind my head to grab his hair. I fisted and tugged at it while my body slowed it’s figure eight motion, absorbing every last bit of my orgasm.

  Completely drained, we both collapsed with rose petals sticking to our sweaty bodies. I rolled off Quinn’s chest and turned to my side facing him. I peeled petals off his chest, occasionally pausing to trace the outline of his muscles.

  “What was that?” Quinn asked out of breath.

  “I don’t know,” I breathed out, “you bring out a part of me I never knew existed. I don’t know who that girl was or what she was doing.”

  He laughed. “Well, I like her … a lot.”

  “I think I may like her too.” I giggled like I did when I’d been drinking, but at that time all I was drunk on was Quinn. He was more intoxicating than anything I’d ever experienced. I continued to trace my fingers over his washboard abs. “So here’s what I’m thinking. I come with some serious emotional baggage that no one deserves to have dumped on them and my instincts are you do too.”

  He stared at the ceiling but nodded in agreement.

  “You live in New York, I live in Milwaukee. I’m not looking for Mr. Right to sweep me off my feet, buy me a house, and give me 2.5 kids. You haven’t had a relationship last longer than six weeks, presumably because you’re not that good looking and a bit of a bore in the sack.”

  Quinn flipped over pinning me to the bed, then he bit my nipple.

  “Ouch!”

  “Not that good looking and a bit of a bore in the sack, huh?”

  I giggled feigning innocence and tried, in vane, to struggle out of his hold.

  “So here’s what I’m thinking. I should tie you to this bed for the rest of the night and torture you with my tongue for hours and not let you come until you declare me to be the Ultimate Sex God.” He sucked in the same nipple he’d just bit and soothed it with gentle strokes of his tongue.

  “Okay, okay, okay, I’m just joking. Now back off, you didn’t let me finish.”

  “Well you’d better shed the wiseass act or this won’t be the only thing I don’t let you finish tonight.” He playfully kissed the tip of my nose and rolled off me.

  “Jeez, bossy much?”

  “Last warning.”

  “Whatever. As I was saying, how would you feel about getting together for mind-blowing sex when our schedules mutually allow, maybe a great vegan meal from Milwaukee’s hottest chef, and small talk about current events?” I couldn’t tell for sure but I thought he was in shock.

  “What, like friends with benefits?”

  “Not even that. More like acquaintances with benefits. Friends implies we know personal things about each other, share feelings and secrets. Mac’s my friend. I have her for that type of relationship.”

  “Would we be monogamous?”

  “Not out of necessity, I mean …” I didn’t know how to tell him occasional sex with him was all I wanted but that I understood his needs were possibly different. “I guess I’m saying what we do when we’re not together is our own business and nothing we have to share with each other. We don’t belong to each other. You can’t worry about guys like Raef, and I can’t ask you if you’ve been with anyone since me.”

  He scrunched his face in contemplation then lifted my leg to look between them.

  “What are you doing?” I smacked his hand away.

  “Looking for your penis, because women don’t come up with ideas like this.”

  “Shut up, I’m serious! So are you in or out?”

  He rolled on top of me so that his growing erection rubbed against my leg. “I’m undoubtedly in.”

  I turned my head when he went to kiss me. “You won’t be in without a condom.”

  “I only had two and you made me waste one at the library,” he whined.

  “No, your possessive, dominant ego wasted that one. That’s the behavior I’m talking about. You’ve got to shut that shit down.”

  “Have you ever considered going on the pill?”

  “Never. Those synthetic hormones are poison to women. Besides, if we’re not pledging monogamy you will never enter my shower without a cap.”

  “You’re such a lady,” Quinn quipped while pulling on his pants.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Concierge. For six grand a night they should throw in a box of condoms.”

  “Six grand a night!” I was certain my jaw was on the ground.

  “Pennies, sweetheart. It’s just pennies to me.”

  Pennies, schmennies. There was no way I would be staying in that room the next night.

  “You don’t have to get a whole box.”

  “You just said I don’t have to spend half the night wooing you, so you can be damn sure I’m going to spend the whole night screwing you.”

  “Ah, you’re such a poetic gentleman.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.”

  ~Mahatma Gandhi

  WHILE QUINN MADE his condom run I decided to explore the massive suite. The marble bathroom was fit for royalty. I put a dip in the swimming pool sized tub on my to-do list. Making my way into the main room again, I noticed a baby grand piano in the corner by the windows.

  How’d I miss that earlier?

  I should’ve been concerned about walking around naked with the drapes open, but between the soft candlelight and knowing I was on the forty-seventh floor, I shed all modesty. Sitting at the piano I closed my eyes and let my body take me to another place. My fingers chose Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in G major. After I played the last note, I opened my eyes to Quinn leaning against the doorway with candlelight shadows dancing across his smooth skin.

  “Amazing.”

  I smiled. “The composition is amazing. I just play it.”

  “A ten year old at a piano recital just plays it. I watched you … You feel it, you live it.”

  It was starting to get too intimate … too personal, so I quickly diverted. “I see you’re stocked up for the night.”

  Quinn pulled a long strip of condoms out of the box. “It’ll get us started.”

  I stayed at the piano while Quinn began separating the condoms. My friskiness surfaced so I played a tune to get us in the mood. He quickly recognized it and started laughing.

  “Marvin Gaye, good choice since we will be getting it on very soon.”

  Distracted by Quinn placing condoms around the suite like he was hiding Easter eggs, I stopped playing.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Putting a condom on every surface where I plan to fuck you.”

  Sweet Jesus!

  After making his way around the entire suite, Quinn walked up to me with one condom left and set it on the piano. He flashed me a devilish grin as he unbuttoned his pants.

  Hmm, will we do Harvey Keitel and Holly Hunter in The Piano or Richard Gere and Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?

  *

  As it turned out, we reenacted both. Also what I assumed was a six pack of condoms turned out to be a twelve pack and we used every one. By the time we made it to the gigantic bathtub, around 5:00 a.m. we were out of condoms. We both conceded that just washing the sex off each other and crashing might be best anyway.

  I woke to the faint sound of my cell phone ringing. Tossing the covers aside, I eased out of bed with a slight ache between my legs. Quinn had definitely left his mark on me, one that I felt for days. By the time I found my handbag in the other room, I’d already missed the call. Looking at the screen I saw it was Mac. I wasn’t ready to explain everything to her yet, so I headed back into the bedroom. The clock by the bed read 11:30 a.m.
<
br />   Holy crap! I can’t believe I almost slept until noon.

  Quinn was still passed out on his back, one arm stretched out in my empty space and the other folded on his chest. I took a moment to admire his beautiful body. Every part of it was flawlessly sculpted. He obviously worked hard to maintain that godlike body. I questioned if it was fair for one man to possess so much physical perfection. The duvet rested low on his hips giving me a naughty idea. Being careful not to make any noise, I tiptoed over to the bed and inched the covers down, exposing his glorious morning erection. I cautiously climbed between his legs, keeping a watchful eye on his face. Then with a slow stroke I ran my tongue up his erection from base to tip where I circled along the head. It twitched and his whole body jerked awake. Before he had time to respond, I took him in my mouth, sucking, licking, and teasing while looking up into his sleepy morning gaze. With a pop I released him from my mouth and gave him a huge grin.

  “Good morning.”

  “Fucking best morning ever! But don’t stop.” He pushed my head back down.

  I sucked him deep and hard while he moaned in appreciation. His hands tangling in my hair mixed with the deep sounds that reverberated from his throat fed my desire to please him as unselfishly as he did so many times the night before. When I sensed him getting closer I pulled off and licked my way up his stomach to his chest. I flicked my tongue over his dark nipple while stroking him the rest of the way. He thrusted one more time into my hand.

  “Oh Jesus!” Breathless, he looked down at me and the mess pooled on his belly. “Guess you’re not a swallower.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m a vegan.” I laughed and eventually he did too.

  Then I slapped the side of his sexy ass. “Go get cleaned up. I’m starving.”

  “Then you should have swallowed.”

  “Smart-ass.”

  I ordered room service since a full breakfast was complimentary with the six thousand dollar suite. While Quinn was still in the shower, I gave Mac a call.

  “Why haven’t you answered your phone?” she scolded.

  “Long story. What’s up?”

  “Just seeing if you want to take Chicago by storm like old times? Evan is going golfing with Mom and Dad so it’s just us. We can start with lunch at the Chicago Diner, Art Institute, Magnificent Mile shopping, and maybe see if anyone in the city is protesting something worthwhile.”

 

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