“Here.” He stepped back and spun her around. The water cascaded down the front of her while he massaged her breasts and tweaked her nipples. The warmth of her body seeped into his. She cradled his dick against her back.
He stroked her until he felt her warm juices flowing over his hand. She reached up and around to hold on to his neck. He began to fold her forward, but she resisted. Moving his hand, he grasped both her hips and brought them to him.
His left hand slid over her back and prodded her shoulders forward. Her hands slapped the wet tile as she spread her legs, understanding what he wanted. He leaned close and entered her from behind, his fingers holding her hips firmly. She ground her ass against him, so close to release.
He folded himself around her. The water beat on his back. His fingers found her hard clit and flicked it as he pulled out and thrust back in. She reared up, clenching her walls around him. The sudden movement shocked him. He couldn’t hold out and he began spurting.
He withdrew from her quickly, not removing his hand from bringing her to another climax. They both leaned against the cool tile.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” she said.
He backed off and grabbed the bar of soap. They washed each other slowly and enjoyably. He needed to tell her he started to come inside her. But right now she looked . . . happy.
Happy was not a word he’d normally use to describe Quinn. Content suited her. At this moment, hair slicked back, soap running down her body, she smiled openly and warmly. This was beyond contentment.
She rinsed and stepped out of the shower. She wrapped a towel around herself and plopped on the closed lid of the toilet. Water rinsed suds from his body and he noticed a lack of movement in the bathroom.
“You okay?” he asked, sticking his head out.
“I’ll be fine. Just a little light-headed.”
He was going to spout off a joke but stopped when he saw she was pale. He twisted the water off and squatted in front of her on the fuzzy purple bath mat.
“What’s wrong?”
She smiled weakly. “Too much great sex. Hot water. No food.” She closed her eyes and leaned back.
“When was the last time you ate?” He knew she ate nothing at the bar tonight.
“I ate a sandwich before going out. And I had a candy bar at school.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t move.”
She lifted her arm and gave him a thumbs-up. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”
He went to the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice. He brought it to her and put it to her lips. Her color had already started to return. She drank greedily.
“This happen often?”
“Only when I don’t eat and have wild monkey sex.”
“I’ll be sure to take note. No monkey sex without food.” She stood and he grabbed her elbow, wanting to make sure she was steady.
“I’m fine.” She jerked her arm back. “Let’s go find something to eat.”
She pulled an oversized T-shirt from her dresser and put it on. Her hair dripped on the gray cotton covering her shoulders. He looked around and realized he didn’t have anything comfortable to wear. He pulled on his underwear and followed Quinn.
In the kitchen, she was pouring two bowls of Lucky Charms cereal. “That looks nutritious.”
She glared at him. “It’s my favorite childhood cereal. It’s not like I eat it every day. Besides, I can’t eat anything heavy. I have to go to sleep since I’m working tomorrow.”
He accepted the bowl she placed in front of him. “Why are you going into work?”
“I told that teacher who’s having trouble that I’d help her.” She used the back of her spoon to push the cereal into the milk.
“That’s nice of you.”
She shrugged. “I feel guilty for not teaching this summer.”
“Why?” He took a bite of the cereal and the crispy marshmallows melted on his tongue.
“I got a letter from a student who was in my class this year. She’s in summer school and not doing well, at least not as well as she did with me.”
“How is it your fault?”
Quinn chewed and shook her head. “It’s actually a nice letter. She doesn’t blame me. She passed my class but had failed the previous year. She wanted to tell me she enjoyed my class and she wishes more teachers were like me.”
“You have a regular fan club going on.”
“Not usually.”
They finished their cereal in silence, rinsed their bowls, and left them in the sink.
Quinn stilled and looked at him. “I’m ready for sleep.”
It was neither an invitation nor expectation.
“Tossing me out?”
A slight blush pinked her cheeks. “No, I just . . . I didn’t want you to think . . .” She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.
“I’m teasing, Quinn.”
She released the breath. “I told you I’m no good at this.”
He stepped closer and touched her warm cheek. “I want to stay.”
“I’d like that.”
He interlaced his fingers with hers and pulled her toward the stairs. When they entered the bedroom, the smell of sweat and sex accosted them. Her nose crinkled.
“Would you be offended if I changed the sheets before we went to bed?”
“No.”
“Good. Do me a favor and yank those off. I’ll get fresh ones.”
He stripped the bed wondering what she would’ve done if he had been offended. The yellow cotton was pretty ripe. She must not have changed them after their Monday afternoon romp. He balled them up but couldn’t find a laundry basket.
Quinn returned carrying a pile of light purple sheets. “Sorry. It’s been kind of a crazy day and I didn’t get around to changing the sheets. I normally don’t have guests make the bed.”
“Have guests often?”
“No,” she said sharply, eyebrows drawn together. She shook out the fitted sheet. “I—”
Her eyes met his. She was so much fun to rattle. He didn’t know how she survived teenagers all day.
“Why do you keep doing that to me?”
“It’s fun.” He grabbed the corner of the sheet and tucked it around the mattress. “You’re funny when you’re flustered.”
“I’m not flustered.”
He raised an eyebrow to call her a liar.
“Okay, maybe a little nervous.”
They stuffed pillows into cases and arranged the bed. Quinn switched off the light and crawled in.
He waited to see where she would lay and took the spot next to her. He laid on his right side and wrapped his left arm over her waist.
“No reason to be nervous. It’s sleep. Good night, Quinn.” He kissed her cheek and her eyes closed.
It was early for him to turn in, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. He tucked Quinn into his body. She had come to him tonight after having her pick of men, including Colin.
CHAPTER 17
The alarm buzzed. Quinn swung her arm at it. Ten minutes. I need ten more minutes. She turned over to doze and felt the empty bed beside her.
He left? The pain stabbed her chest. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but it felt like Nick all over again. Sleep was lost.
She got to the top of the stairs and smelled coffee. Huh? She tried not to trip as she hurried down. Her heart thumped against her ribs when she reached the floor.
Ryan stood at the stove with his bare back to her, wearing only the underwear he’d slept in. He looked over his shoulder and smiled.
Trying to cover the shock of finding him in her kitchen, she returned the smile.
“Something wrong?”
“No.” Her puzzlement took over. “What are you doing?”
“Making breakfast. Coffee’s ready.” With a black spatula, he pointed at the nearly full pot.
“Thanks. I usually just grab a cup of coffee.” She took down her favorite mug and filled it, generously adding milk and sugar.
“But
you hardly ate yesterday and almost passed out. You need real food.”
He had a point. “In my defense, I don’t do that often. I’m not typically woozy.”
She pulled two plates from the cabinet and set them next to the stove. She peered into the pan, expecting scrambled eggs. He was making omelets and they smelled delicious.
She sat on a stool and sipped her coffee. He unceremoniously plopped the omelets onto the plates and brought them to the counter. The first bite reminded her how truly hungry she was. The smell and explosion of flavors made her mouth water. “Who taught you to cook?”
“My mom refused to let any of us grow up like Dad. He couldn’t cook anything.”
She broke off another piece. “This is great.”
“Did you think I lived on McDonald’s?”
“Not McDonald’s, but a lot of takeout, yeah. The only guy I know who cooks is Brian.”
“The gay guy?”
She choked on her coffee. “Why do guys do that?”
“What?” His plate was nearly empty, showing he was at least as hungry as she had been.
“Being gay doesn’t make it part of his name.”
“I wanted to make sure I knew who you were talking about.”
“Uh-huh.” She glanced at the clock. She’d have barely enough time to shower and get to school.
As if he’d read her mind, Ryan said, “Go get ready. I’ll do the dishes.”
“That’s not fair. You cooked. Leave them in the sink and I’ll do them later.”
“I got ’em. You can owe me.” He stood, grabbed both plates, and kissed the top of her head.
Quinn took her coffee with her into the bathroom. After taking care of business, she saw her period had started. It shouldn’t be here yet. Did I miscount?
During her quick shower, she replayed her evening. Ryan had definitely made up for the disastrous speed dating.
When she went back to the bedroom to dress, Ryan was there, sitting on the edge of the bed. He’d pulled on his jeans, but not his shirt. His hair was messier than usual.
She wore only the towel she’d wrapped around herself in the bathroom. Modesty claimed her again and she held the edges tightly closed.
“You got a minute?” His voice sounded different, uneven.
“Sure.” She sat next to him on the bed, hoping the towel would stay closed.
He took a deep breath and blew it out. God, he was going to try to let her down easy.
“About last night,” he started.
She swallowed hard and tugged the towel closer. What had she been thinking?
“In the shower,” he continued.
Huh? This isn’t how the speech goes. She lifted her eyes to meet his. Worry clouded the blue irises. She touched her palm to his cheek. “What?”
The words rushed without pause. “I started to come inside you. I didn’t mean to and I pulled out. Hell, I didn’t think we’d have sex in the shower. I’m sorry.”
She laughed with relief. He was a babbling idiot and she loved it. She leaned over and hugged him. “It’s okay. Neither one of us was thinking straight. I got my period this morning, so I think it’s safe to say you’re not a father.”
He pulled her into a kiss and made her forget her towel. It slipped from her hands.
Ryan pulled back and gathered the towel around her again. “You better leave that on or you won’t make it to work.”
She held the towel at her breasts and felt herself blush under the look he gave her. He still wanted her. There wasn’t an “I like you, but . . .” speech coming.
He picked up his shirt and shoes from the floor. She stood to get dressed. Before he left, he turned and said quietly, “I wanted you to know I’m disease-free. I wasn’t worried about you getting pregnant.”
She stood stunned for a moment. What the hell did that mean?
Running behind schedule now, she hurriedly dressed. She didn’t hear the door clunk with Ryan’s departure, so she thought he might still be downstairs. She dumped the remnants of her coffee in the sink, where he stood rinsing the last dish. He put it in the rack to dry.
“How late are you?”
She looked at the clock. “Not very. Thanks for breakfast and doing the dishes.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll expect payback.” He leaned down and kissed her briefly. “I’ll walk you out.”
He made things easy. She wasn’t in the habit of leaving her door unlocked, but she didn’t want to offer him a key and scare him off. Not much rattled him, though. He kissed her again at her car before heading to his own.
The sun was bright and the air heavy with humidity. It was the kind of day that made her want to do a rain dance. Sitting in the driver’s seat, her shirt already clung to her back. This was one thing she didn’t miss about teaching summer school.
Quinn arrived at school after the first bell had rung. Although she wasn’t officially on the clock, the familiar burn of fear bubbled in her stomach. She hated being late. She took a deep breath to ease her anxiety. This wasn’t a big deal. She was doing a favor. She could show up whenever she wanted as long as she documented her time for Mr. Carlson.
Feeling better, she strode into the building and stopped in the teacher’s lounge to grab a bottle of water. She tapped on the office window and waved to Louise to let them know she was there.
The heat inside the building was as miserable as outside. No sun beat down, but the air was stagnant. Inside the classroom, she took a seat at a table in the back of the room. A few kids took notice of her entrance and waved fingers in polite greeting. Most remained focused on Shari in the front of the room.
They were reading Romeo and Juliet, predictable ninth-grade fare. Quinn studied the students in the room. Since she was staring at the backs of their heads, it was difficult to pick out anyone she knew. Except Tamika. She easily spotted the girl’s magenta hair.
Shari reviewed the previous day’s material with little involvement from the kids. Quinn had come prepared to take notes and offer advice after class, but she didn’t even know where to start. Thirty minutes in, she was as bored and sleepy as the students, and they hadn’t even cracked open the book.
Quinn struggled to both stay awake and in her seat. She wanted to stand and take over, but it wouldn’t help Shari. They’d only read the first act of the play and the kids didn’t get it. Quinn edged closer to the front of the room to see the students’ faces. Many played with bottles of water dripping condensation onto the scarred desks.
Did Shari think they would read Shakespeare for homework and understand it?
Shari tried to extract a summary from them. She got nothing but blank stares. She turned pleading eyes to Quinn.
Quinn stood and walked to the front of the room. Her sudden movement caught the attention of the class.
“Class, this is Ms. Adams. Some of you might already know her. She’s also a teacher here at Jones and she’s here to help out.” Shari gave her introduction and hurried back to her desk.
“Okay. First, forget anything you read last night. We’re going to start over. I want everyone to close your eyes for a minute.” She waited through the snickers and muffled comments.
When most had followed the direction, she continued, “Girls only. Imagine this. Your neighborhood school closed. Jones becomes your new school. In your first week, you see a guy in the hall. He’s cute. He smiles at you and offers to help you find your class. On the way, you talk. You like him.”
At this point the boys were getting restless. “Okay, guys. Your turn. You’re standing in the hall when this beautiful girl walks in. You check her out. She smiles at you and you immediately think, ‘Hmmm-mmm. I’m gonna get me some of that.’ ”
Instant reaction. The boys burst into laughter. From the back, a girl commented, “Oh no, she didn’t.”
Quinn waited. They were awake and engaged. “I’ve been teaching high school for a long time. I know the first thing on a teenage boy’s mind.”
She began to walk down t
he aisles between the desks. “So you have this new and fabulous thing going on. You really like each other. This boy, this girl, they’re different. But then . . .”
The room dropped into silence. “Imagine this girl is with the Latin Kings and the boy . . . you guessed it. He’s from a long line of Disciples.”
“Ah, hell no.”
“No way.”
“Couldn’t happen.”
Quinn stopped, turned in a circle. “We all know what happens beyond these walls. But in here, without flashing your signs, without your colors, you’re just a boy and a girl. You love each other, but your families will never accept this.”
“Well, I’d be done with that ho.”
“If it’s easy, then you didn’t really love her.” She had them. They were thinking. This was the moment she loved. “The question is, what are you going to do to save this relationship?”
Eyes narrowed at her and arms crossed chests. She continued, “This is the real thing. No one has ever loved you like this. No one has ever accepted you for who you are until now.”
Some shifted uncomfortably. Quinn knew a fantasy was as close to love as some would feel. “Everyone take out a sheet of paper. Write a letter to the one person in your family—blood or otherwise—you trust. Try to convince that person you should be able to keep this newfound love. You have thirty minutes to write.”
Some kids grumbled. Most didn’t like to write, but they did it.
The late-afternoon sun glared through the windows when they finally called it a day. Shari had plenty to work on. Quinn drew the line at taking papers or lesson plans home. She sat in the stifling heat trapped in the car and started the engine. It had been a great day and she felt fabulous. She hadn’t felt this energized in forever. Days like this made her love her job.
She drove without a plan. She wanted to see Ryan, but she didn’t want to seem clingy.
She wanted to ride the high of her good mood. The list needed attention. She had research to do on the expensive restaurants Griffin had told her about, and she needed to find a karaoke night.
Only a month remained before she was supposed to go to New Orleans. She needed to plan that as well. All of a sudden her summer off had shrunk. How did it blip by so quickly?
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