Release Me If You Can

by Christina C Jones

  Blushing, Renata buried her face in her hands for a moment before she looked up again. “Yes. His name is … Q.”

  “And does this Q know about your history?”

  “He does,” Renata replied. “He knows about these sessions… asks me how they went. He’s even researched things he can do to help me move past it. He’s very sweet with me. Patient, respectful. I’m just now getting him to stop asking my permission before he touches me, or … kisses me.”

  Renata bit her lip, squeezing her thighs together as she remembered just the day before, in the kitchen at Inez’s compound. There was plenty of room in the huge kitchen, but Quentin still found it necessary to brush past her as she stood at the sink washing a handful of strawberries. And it wasn’t just that he brushed past her, he lingered, and when she turned around, he was right there behind her.

  “What, Q?” she’d asked, heat building between her thighs under the warmth of his gaze. He’d put his hands on the sink at either side of her, boxing her in as he stepped closer. “What, I can’t look at you now?” had been his answer, to which she’d responded by shaking her head, with a coy smile. Before she could offer a verbal retort, he’d leaned in closer, enough that the cool sweetness of his breath tickled her lips. “I wanna kiss you right now. Would that be okay?” And those words made her lungs constrict. She swallowed hard, and somehow found the capability to give a flirtatious answer. “I told you, you don’t have to ask…” Quentin grinned, cupped her face, and right there in the kitchen, in the middle of the day, gave her a kiss that made her toes curl in her fuzzy socks.

  “Must have been some kiss,” Layla chuckled, scribbling something down on her pad.

  Blushing again, Renata dropped her head. “It was. And… I wanted to do more, much more, than kiss.”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  Renata sighed. “Well… we’ve tried. And it was incredible. He made me feel things I’ve definitely never made myself feel. But then I had a flashback, and like… I guess a panic attack or something, and I wasn’t very good to him. But… I want to try again.”

  Layla shrugged. “So try again. As I said before… there’s no magic cure, except a partner who cares for and respects you, is willing, and kind, and patient, and… just happy to be invited into the room, despite what some may consider flaws, or baggage. The two of you could do an exact repeat of that failed encounter, and this time… it might not fail. Or, maybe it will. The only thing that really works is an understanding and acceptance of what could happen —terrible, or terribly good — and a willingness to try again.”

  Tipping her head to the side, Renata lifted an eyebrow. “That’s it? Just… try again?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Layla nodded. “Just… try again.”

  — & —

  “Mmmm, huele delicioso aquí!”

  Renata smiled as Inez slowed her steps, taking a deep inhale of the aroma coming from the kitchen. They’d just walked into the house, and the smell of Andouille sausage and green peppers had filled their nostrils as soon as they got up the stairs.

  “It does smell good in here,” Renata agreed with Inez, following her toward the source of the heavenly aroma. They found Quentin in the kitchen, bobbing his head and rapping along to whatever was playing in the headphones that covered his ears as he stirred the contents of a pan.

  Quentin cooking had been mentioned before, but for the last six weeks, the team had been living on takeout and bagged salad mixes, because they were focused on the job. But they’d come to a place with the King Pharma job that they couldn’t hack — time. Programs had to run for hours on end to lay the foundation for the emails they’d created that “proved” the newest drug wasn’t safe for public consumption, and that King knew that. They had to wait for the quarterly reports, and answers from investors, because King wouldn’t announce the new drug until then.

  So, with a little more spare time on their hands, Renata deduced that Quentin must have found himself tired of eating out, and wanting something homemade and fresh. She just wasn’t prepared for how damned sexy he would look while doing it. Dark gray sweats, and a black tank that molded to his body, showing off the results of his daily five a.m. workouts, and those inky-black tattoos that popped in high contrast against his skin…

  Damn he’s fine.

  “Put your tongue back in your mouth, querida,” Inez giggled in her ear, pulling Renata out of the kitchen door and off to the side. “Unless you’re planning to do something to him with it.”

  “Inez.”

  Inez pulled Renata into a little sideways hug. “I’m joking with you… but I have noticed that you two have been hot and heavy… I’m not going to have to threaten him again, am I?”

  Renata shook her head. “I… I think we’ll be okay. The sessions with Layla have been going really well… making good progress.”

  “Good,” Inez said, pulling her into a hug. “At least one of my girls is doing okay.”

  “Is Naomi still…?”

  Inez nodded. “Yeah, still trying to figure out what Wolfe meant about her mom. The emotional warfare that man wages is repulsive. I don’t understand why he does what he does.” She stopped, then patted Renata on the arm. “Anyway, I’m sure you and lover boy probably want some alone time. I’m gonna go check on Mimi.”

  “Okay Nez. And… thank you, for driving me to these appointments. I appreciate it.”

  Smiling, Inez pulled Renata into a quick hug. “Anytime. I wanna see you happy.” With a wink, Inez left her standing alone near the doorway, and Renata took a moment to collect herself before she ventured into the kitchen. Quentin was still lost in his music, but this time he was turned toward the island, pulling seasonings from the spice rack Inez kept there.

  As Renata moved closer, he looked up, smiling when he realized it was her. He pulled his headphones down, letting them rest around his neck. “Hey, you’re back. How’d it go today?”

  That smile of his… Jesus, help. His gaze rested on her face, then skipped down, lingering on her body, making her lightweight sweater dress feel like a good decision.

  “Great, actually. I feel really good.”

  He tipped his head to the side. “Great. Alright now, the time before that was “good”, and the one before that was “okay”, but now you’re up to great. That’s whassup. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thank you,” Renata said as she closed the last few steps between them. There was no hesitation on Quentin’s part as he emptied his hands to accept Renata into his arms. She snuggled close to him, closing her eyes as he pressed his lips to her forehead.

  After a few seconds passed, he drew back, then used a finger under her chin to tip her head up to face him. “You hungry?”

  “Well, I wasn’t until I smelled whatever heavenly thing you’ve created in that skillet over there. That’s andouille, right?”

  Quentin grinned. “Yes it is. And chicken, and shrimp, and…”

  “Let me guess,” Renata said, smiling as she held up a finger. “Crawfish.”

  “Oooh.” Quentin narrowed his eyes, biting his lip as he bent to press his forehead to hers. “You know me so well. You know I love it when you say sexy shit like that, right? Talk dirty to me baby, say it again.”

  Lifting an eyebrow, Renata lowered her voice to a sultry whisper. “Craw. Fish.”

  She giggled as Quentin pressed his lips to hers, then shrieked as he lifted her off the floor, wrapped tightly in his arms. When he put her down, he planted a kiss on her cheek, then grabbed his seasonings from the counter. “Jambalaya will be ready shortly, chérie. Just adding some finishin’ touches.”

  “Hey,” Renata said, raising her hand in mid-air as she took a seat at the island. “No rush from me, I’m just glad to hear I get a bowl.”

  “First bowl, bien-aimé.”

  Quentin winked at her, then turned back to the stove as Renata blushed. She wasn’t just glad to get a bowl, she was glad, period. Quentin was just so… extremely… everything, and if he gave her an
other sweet nickname — my beloved, this time — she might melt.

  “So you’re breaking out the proper French on me now, huh? No more Creole patois?”

  He glanced back, with his mouth twisted in a little scowl. “I’ll have you know, our patois is proper French. Just wit’ a lil bit of extra seasonin’ on it. And what, you didn’t think I could speak French? Je parle beaucoup de langues ... peut-être plus que vous, douce fleur.”

  Renata laughed, shaking her head. “You don’t know how many languages I speak… but point taken.”

  When he was done cooking, everyone was invited to the table, but as promised, Renata did get the first bowl. She was happy to see their entire team, people who she was starting to think of as family, all gathered around the table to talk, eat, and laugh. She did more observing than speaking, since that was what she preferred anyway, and even had a glass of wine. Guilt stirred in her chest for indulging in such enjoyment, while her daughter was being kept from her, but… she tucked it away. As batshit crazy as he was, logic held that Taylor was actually safe with Wolfe. He’d proven himself to be fiercely protective of those he considered family. Taylor was happy, well-taken care of… so Renata relaxed into the moment of normalcy.

  It felt good.

  Not just the wine, the entire atmosphere, surrounded by friends — people who cared enough about her daughter to risk their lives. Even though the importance of the job loomed over their heads, in this moment, there was peace. Even for Naomi, who still held a haunted look in her eyes, but smiled with real joy when she looked at Marcus. At Inez, who was on her third drink of the night, and seemed to be accepting a lot more flirting than usual from Kendall.

  And… there was Quentin.

  Charming, sexy Quentin who kept leaning over to murmur sweet things to her. Who just that morning, had come up behind her chair while she was working, just to kiss her cheek and whisper I love you into her ear before returning to his work in his own seat.

  It felt so good.

  Later, when everyone else was cleaning up, Quentin grabbed Renata’s hand, pulling her out of the room. He’d slipped away a while before, but with so much activity happening in the kitchen, she’d been too distracted to wonder where he’d gone. Now, as he pulled her onto the screened porch, with the fire pit roaring in the dark, she knew.

  “Just for us?” she asked, smiling as he sat down on the outdoor sectional, then pulled her onto his lap. Renata snuggled against his chest, being mindful of her still-healing shoulder.

  Quentin kissed the side of her head, then her cheek, then her neck, before bringing his mouth up to her ear. “Just for us. No company.”

  Renata smiled, and closed her eyes, soaking in the tranquil moment where they could be intimately alone. These times were much rarer than she would have thought, with them essentially living under the same roof. There had been so many things to do, so much to hack, so much to handle, and then… the incident between Tomiko and Naomi. Things had been hectic, and then she started therapy… so time by themselves — when neither was tired, or stressed, or cranky because of faulty code or stubborn firewalls — was precious.

  “I should probably start looking for a place,” Renata said, speaking the words aloud as soon as the thought entered her mind. “We move forward with the takedown of King Pharma in two weeks. I’ve been here because it’s convenient for us all to be together while we work on this job, but… I need a place for my baby to come home to.”

  For a long moment, Quentin didn’t say anything, just kept stroking Renata’s back. “Well,” he said finally, clearing his throat. “You know… my place is pretty big.”

  Tightness and warmth bloomed in Renata’s chest at the same time, and she smiled as she kicked off her shoes, then slid out of his lap, just enough that her butt was on the couch, but her legs were still draped across his. Now that she could see his face in the flickering light of the dancing fire, she reached up, running her hand across his chin.

  “That is very generous of you. And if it were just me, I’d accept in a heartbeat, but… it’s not.”

  “You know I was invitin’ Taylor too, right?”

  She nodded. “I do. But… with everything that’s happened, it’s important to me to make sure that once this is all over, Taylor feels safe, and protected. I know you, but she doesn’t. She’s only fourteen, and I haven’t done much dating, so can you imagine how uncomfortable it would be for her to move in with a guy she’s never even heard me mention? I so appreciate your offer, but Taylor’s comfort is paramount.”

  “I cannot argue with that. You let me know what you want, and I’ll help you find a place,” he said, brushing his lips over hers.

  “I knew you’d say that.”

  Quentin lifted an eyebrow, then kissed her again. “How?”

  “Because you’ve always gone out of your way to help me… Remember? You actually helped me get the first place for me and Taylor, before she was even born. It’s like déjà vu.”

  He chuckled. “I do remember that.”

  “We were so young. Teenagers. How does a teenage boy come to the decision to help a girl he only knows through dial-up internet, and on that level? Why did you do that for me?”

  “Because it was the right thing to do. I cared about you. We were friends. I don’t think I recognized it then, but… I loved you.”

  Renata swallowed hard as a lump built in her throat. “You’d never even seen me before.”

  “Which is a blessin’,” he laughed, pressing his head against the cushions. “If you looked anything then like you do now, my sixteen-year-old heart wouldn’t have been able to take it. I woulda said all kinds of nasty shit to ya’.”

  Renata giggled. “Like what, Q?”

  “Man… je veux vous sentir sur mon corps — I wanna smell you on my body… I’d eat you like a praline.”

  “Are you serious?!” Renata clapped a hand over her mouth. “You were saying that kind of stuff to high school girls?”

  Quentin scoffed. “I was sayin’ that kinda stuff to college girls.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “I know,” he said, running a hand over her thigh. “That’s why I’m grateful for the way things went between us, as far as getting’ to know each other. I got to know and love you here first,” — he touched her forehead — “then here,” — he placed his hand over her heart — “and now that I see the physical package… I just feel fortunate as hell.”

  Renata’s breath hitched as he tipped his head forward, pressing his lips to hers with a gentle urgency that made her scoot closer to him. “You know I could say the same about you, right?” she asked.

  “You think I’m a catch, huh?”

  She nodded. “I do.” Renata lifted a hand, running it over his head, then down to his ear. “I feel… kinda like the luckiest woman in the world right now.”

  Or maybe it wasn’t luck. Maybe more like… divine intervention that had brought them together, even if the circumstances were… chaotic and unconventional.

  Moving into the corner of the sectional, Quentin sat all the way back and opened his legs, for Renata to settle between them, with her back to his chest. The late night temperature began to drop, so he unfurled the blanket he’d brought out, draping it over them.

  “You wanna talk about your session today?” Quentin asked, and Renata shook her head. “Wanna talk about apartments, or houses?” Renata gave him a no to that as well. “What about… figuring out how to get into those old emails we found, between King and Wolfe. They’ve gotta be decrypted so we can read them, and—”

  “Nope.” Renata shifted a little, settling into a more comfortable position. “I don’t want to talk about any of that. We don’t have to talk about anything at all.”

  Quentin chuckled, then tucked his chin over her head, but said nothing. They stayed like that for a long while, just staring into the fire. Renata closed her eyes, and was close to drifting off to sleep when Quentin moved, lowering his head to place a kiss on her neck.
<
br />   Renata kept her eyes closed, but her body responded, tipping her head to one side to grant him more access. He kept going… kissing, biting, sucking her neck until she whimpered.

  He’d kept his hands wrapped respectfully at her waist, but now, Renata covered them with hers, pushing his fingertips down to her thighs. It wasn’t until she parted her legs, guiding one of his hands between them that he resisted.

  “You sure, chérie?” he asked. His voice was different now, roughened with arousal, and she could feel him growing hard against her back.

  Eyes still closed, without turning around, she nodded, and a moment later, he’d slipped a hand under her panties. She moaned as his fingers slipped and slid through her slick wetness, bringing her to the edge of frenzied with in what felt like no time, with what seemed to be minimal effort. He pushed two fingers inside her, keeping his palm pressed to her clit as she pushed her body against his hand. His mouth was still on her neck, lavishing attention from one side to the other, finding hot spots she’d never even known she had as her body grew tense.

  With his other hand, he cupped her chin, urging her to turn her head so that when he tipped his head forward, over her shoulder, they could kiss as he kept working his fingers between her thighs. She had her legs spread wide underneath the blanket, but she didn’t feel nervous, or ashamed. She felt… amazing then, and even better after she came, with a powerful rush of sensation that made her skin tingle.

  Renata deflated against Quentin’s chest, panting from the intensity of her climax. He chuckled against her ear, then kissed her there. “Let’s go inside.”

  “Uh-uh.” She took a deep breath, then turned to face him, straddling his lap as she shook her head. “Let’s stay here. Nobody can see us… right?”

  “Right. Disabled the security camera myself,” he said, dragging her closer, so that the heat of his erection pressed between her legs.

  She lowered her mouth to his, whimpering as he palmed handfuls of her butt and squeezed. He pressed his tongue to the seam of her lips, searching for hers, and she eagerly opened for his exploration. She began to rock her hips against him, creating a pleasurable friction between them, and he groaned into her mouth. Knowing she was doing something that made him feel good made her feel bolder… sexier.