Domestic Bliss

by Piper Rayne

  Leo coughs out a laugh behind us.

  Cole slaps Jagger on the shoulder. “You’ll know when it’s time.”

  “Do you guys want to join us?” Vance asks. “For a drink at least?”

  Cole’s already shaking his head. “Nah. We’re going to some club.” They all turn their heads to the short-haired one and I’m guessing it’s her idea. “Hopefully, we make it until midnight.”

  They all laugh and the short-haired one rolls her eyes. “Losers.”

  “Great seeing you. Give me a call.” Jagger pulls out a card and hands it to Cole and then one to Tahlia.

  “Transplant center?” Cole says.

  “Shit. Sorry.” He snatches the card from Cole’s hand and digs his business card out, handing it over to them.

  Jagger’s phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. A ding sounds a few seconds later, indicating that whoever it was has left a voicemail. All the women dig into their purses to make sure it wasn’t one of their phones.

  We all say our goodbyes and they leave us to our dinner once again.

  I sit back down in my chair, but Jagger walks around the table, placing the transplant cards in front of everyone.

  “Here you go. Never too late to get tested and put yourself on the list. You never know who will be a match.”

  They all pick the cards up, study them, and their gazes veer to me, silently asking if he actually thinks they’ll just give a kidney like donating blood. I shrug.

  Jagger picks up the phone, pressing to listen to the message. “It’s Isa,” he whispers.

  I nod, looking over the menu since the table has grown silent.

  He puts his phone away.

  “You okay, man?” Vance asks, and I look over to a pale Jagger.

  “What did she say?” I place the menu down, focusing all my attention on him.

  “She said the doctor stopped in. I’m not a match.”

  “I’m sorry.” I grip his hand in mine.

  The table expresses their sincere apologies, but his attention remains on me.

  “But you are,” he says.

  My stomach twists and my cheeks heat from the intense stares coming from across the table.

  20

  Jagger

  Quinn purses her lips, her eyes questioning what my next move will be. I specifically told her she shouldn’t get tested. Anyone but her.

  “That’s so sweet. You’re offering to donate?” Layla asks from across the table.

  My head snaps in her direction.

  “Or not.” She leans back in her seat, looking unsure.

  The room quiets and I’m fuming, but Quinn picks up her wine glass, almost challenging me to say something. She takes a sip, her eyes not leaving mine, and I inhale a deep breath.

  “Excuse me.” I slide my chair back from the table and leave the curtained-off room in search of anything that will extinguish the anger and fear simmering in my veins.

  Finding the bar, I flag down the bartender and request a shot of whiskey. Should’ve taken the bottle from the room.

  “Jag.” A female’s voice announces herself right before a hand brushes along my shoulder blades. I glance beside me to see who it is.

  “Penny,” I say. Not sure if she’s on her way to a club or what, because her dress looks cut up and sewn together. She’s leaving nothing to the imagination.

  “So, you got in here, too.” She looks around. “It’s beautiful.”

  I nod. The bartender places the shot glass in front of me and I down it.

  “I’m surprised you’re alone.”

  I flag the bartender down, pointing to my glass for another. “I’m not,” I say, digging into my pocket. I slap a fifty on the counter.

  “Who are you here with?” she asks.

  “Me,” Quinn says and I down the second shot, placing the glass on the counter.

  Penny gives her a once-over, clearly thinking Quinn isn’t near the woman she is, when in reality, Quinn is worlds better than Penny.

  “Penny, my girlfriend Quinn. Quinn, Penny.”

  Quinn stands, her purse clasped with both hands in front of her. “How could I forget Penny?” she says with a snarl to her voice.

  Then the lightbulb goes off in my head, the clouds clearing.

  Fuck me.

  “Oh, you’re that old neighbor girl.” Penny’s finger waggles in her direction. “So, you two are trying it again. That’s so cute.”

  Quinn says nothing, turns to face me, pleading with her eyes. “I’m going to catch a cab.”

  I roll my head back. The anger from finding out she went behind my back to get tested still lingers under the surface. It doesn’t matter how pissed I am right now, I’m still fucking seeing my girl home.

  “No. I’ll drive you.”

  She swivels around me, staring at the shot glass.

  Penny rolls her eyes.

  “You drive stick?” I ask Quinn.

  “Once.” She shrugs.

  “Perfect, let’s go.” I grab her hand and weave her through the tables. “Bye, Penny.”

  “Waste of space,” Penny mumbles and normally I’d stop, go back and demand she respect my girlfriend, but girls like Penny don’t change. They lash out. Penny doesn’t want me, she wants the status that comes with dating me. She wants my family name. It’s ironic that the one thing I’ve wanted to change about myself my entire life, she wants.

  I hand the valet my slip and we stand on the curb. “Did you tell my friends we were leaving?”

  “I told them I was leaving, yes.” She’s standing a few feet apart from me. Ever since we solidified our relationship there hasn’t been an inch between us. I hate it.

  Lucky for me, the valet arrives in record time, my Spyder easing to a stop in front of us.

  Quinn rounds the back end and the valet driver glances my way.

  I nod, and he hands her the keys. While she’s situating herself, I palm him a tip.

  Being in the passenger seat of my own car is not where I want to be. Why didn’t I think before taking those shots?

  “Give me some time to figure this out.” Quinn moves the seat forward, her hand on the stick shift, her eyes studying the dash.

  She’s going to massacre my car.

  “Press the clutch and brake. Start the car.” I shift it into first and the car starts. “Ease your foot off the clutch and gradually apply pressure to the gas pedal.”

  My car stutters, stutters some more and I know we’re about to stall, but with a last-ditch effort she gets it and we move forward.

  “Jesus!” My hand hits the roof of my car when we barely clear the car parked in front of us.

  “Stop it. You’re making me nervous.”

  Once she gets it going, she shifts flawlessly into second, but I see a light approaching, which means we have to stop and then start again. It starts drizzling and I secretly pray we get to her house before the roads get too slick.

  Sure enough, since luck’s not been on my side lately, the yellow light turns red. She stops the car.

  “Again. Ease gently and you’ll get it.”

  “I know how to drive one, I just haven’t done it in a long time,” she snaps.

  I roll my eyes, my gut twisting, thinking of the damage that will be done to my clutch by the time this test drive is over.

  The light turns green, her feet move and the car stalls. A horn honks behind us.

  She doesn’t stop or get flustered, and I admire her gusto to keep going at it.

  She’s successful on the third try, and I cross my fingers we hit a green wave the rest of the way home.

  “I don’t get it, you know?” She shifts, and I can see her confidence improving the longer we drive.

  Fuck, it’s sexy. I never thought a chick driving my car would turn me on, but watching her gripping the stick shift and mastering the clutch makes me want to fist my dick.

  “What?”

  “You want Marisol to have a kidney. I have one, so explain to me why I can’t give h
er mine?”

  I run a hand across my neck, pulling to ease the tension this topic is causing. “I told you not to get tested.”

  She shoots her gaze over to me for a second. “You don’t own me.”

  “You said you were mine.”

  She huffs. “Seriously, I’ll make my own decisions when it comes to my body. If I want to give a kidney, I have the right to.”

  “You’re not getting cut open and putting yourself at risk.” My fists clench and at least one thing works for me—we hit a green. Thankfully, she’s chosen the city instead of the beach to live so the drive isn’t that long.

  She parks my car outside her house, turns it off and tucks the keys into her purse.

  “I’ll need the keys.” I follow her up her walkway.

  “Not tonight. Call an Uber.” She pulls her keys out to unlock her door.

  I whip her around. “Why are you being so difficult?”

  She stands there, her breasts rising and falling with her deep breaths, her gaze pinned to mine. “I’m not being difficult. I just don’t understand why you ask everybody to donate a kidney to her, but here I am, a person who can actually help her, and you refuse.”

  “You’re not this stupid,” I say, the whiskey running interference between my brain and my tongue.

  “Wow.” She slides under my arm, turns the key and places her hand on the door handle.

  I place my hand over hers and she stills.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I just…” Her neck and shoulders are right under my mouth as my body shelters her from the street. My dick twitches at her scent and I lose any filter I had. “I can’t let anything happen to you. What if you need that kidney down the line? I just got you back and I refuse to let you go.”

  The rigidness in her shoulders falters and her hand falls from the doorknob, her body slowly turning around.

  “Jagger,” she sighs, her hand on my cheek, her eyes pouring with love. “You need to work on the delivery of your feelings.”

  I smile, my hands on her hips. “Give me time, this feelings thing is new…ish for me.” I lift her up in my arms, turning the doorknob, and crash my lips to hers.

  Stepping inside, I drop her on the couch and toe out of my shoes to climb on top of her, but she stands.

  “You’re still mad?” I ask and sit in the chair opposite the couch. “Can we argue after we fuck? Because with your feistiness and watching you drive my car, I’m about a minute away from combustion.”

  She says nothing, picking up a black remote by the television.

  “Are you going to punish me by making me watch chick flicks?”

  Turning around, she presses the button on the remote and music fills the small room. “Criminal” by Fiona Apple, to be exact. My dick jumps with the first line.

  She mouths the words and my hands land on the armrests, my fingers gripping the fabric.

  With her back to me, her hands slide to the zipper on her back. Peeking over her shoulder, she lowers it inch by excruciating inch until it stops. Spinning around, she slides one strap down her arm while she steps toward me.

  “Tell me you’re not going to tie up my ankles.” In reality, I’d let her do whatever she wants to me right now as long as she continues getting naked.

  A smile graces her lips, but it does nothing to diminish her seductive eyes. The other strap of the dress hangs off her arm and she slides it free, holding her dress up with one hand. She steps between my legs, and the dress falls to the floor while she spins back around, bending over so her ass is in my face.

  And what a fine ass it is.

  The rough fabric scratches under my fingernails as I grip harder.

  Fuck me.

  When she jiggles her ass in front of me, I almost reach out, but instead I palm my hard dick. I massage it through my pants, my eyes following her hands as they roam over her body.

  She steps away from me again, her hands moving to her back, unhooking her bra, and it drops. She stays facing away from me, but from where her hands are placed, she’s massaging her tits. Not for nearly as long as I’d play with them, though. Her hands skim down her body and over her ass displayed in a black thong, her fingerprints leaving red trails across her fair skin.

  I shrug out of my suit jacket, tossing it on the couch, my hands working to unclasp my belt.

  She circles around, her eyes zooming in on my actions, another sneak of a smile spreading across her lips. One thing about Quinn, nothing gets her hotter than knowing how bad I want her. Her long dark hair flies around in a tornado of strands and she falls to her hands and knees, approaching me like I’m her prey. My dick strains against my pants.

  Quinn sits up, placing her hands on my knees, swirling her hips, grinding in front of me and if my hand was there, she could get herself off. She turns back around, her ass inches away from my dick. I unbutton and zip, pulling my cock out, needing some of the relief my hand can provide me. Hooking her fingers on either side, she watches me the entire time she slides the black lace down her legs.

  Straddle me. Please, for the love of all that is holy, straddle me and fuck me right now.

  Her hand slides down the front of her body, dipping between her legs, one finger sliding between her folds.

  I fist my cock, ready to get myself off, but she inches toward me, almost sitting in my lap. I position my dick up, letting the tip tease her like she’s teasing me. Her hands land on the armchair, her hips grinding, her wetness coating the tip of my cock.

  “Sink down on me,” I whisper, wrapping my arm around her waist, not letting her get away.

  She shakes her head and I move my tip from front to back through her slick heat and she whimpers. Sinking down on me, she tries to go slow but loses the fight, encasing me completely. Her back hits my chest and I wish I didn’t have this shirt on. I need to feel her soft skin against my own.

  Bringing her fingers to my lips, I open my mouth, licking her juices off, bucking my hips.

  She rises and falls, allowing me to take the lead for a brief moment. Having use of both my hands, I reach up, massaging her tits and pulling on her nipples. She moans and falls against me once again.

  “God, you’re fucking gorgeous,” I say, pinching her nipples and sucking on her neck.

  My hand grazes down her flat stomach, the soft patch of dark hair tickling my fingertips. Slowly and without too much pressure I roll her clit between my thumb and forefinger, another finger heading further south, sliding along her slit. She’s soaking wet and the stain on my suit pants is worth tenfold whatever my dry-cleaning bill is going to be.

  “Turn around, baby.” I grab a hold of her hips, my dick glistening when she stands and turns to face me.

  Not missing a beat, she snakes her feet on either side of me, letting me fill her again. She leans back and lets her hands fall to the floor, holding herself up and pushing her tits out. She’s practically horizontal with the floor and though a part of me wants her pressed up against me, but damn. You can’t beat this view. I watch myself move in and out of her while gripping her hips. I grind in and out, her tits teasing me, bouncing up and down with each entry and retreat.

  Her groans and groveling for me to fuck her harder spur a fire so deep down in my balls I’ll never be done with one load tonight. My fingernails dig into her skin and she allows me to take control for both of us, her body willingly taking what I’m giving her.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming,” she chants, her eyes shutting, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. All telltale signs she’s losing the fight to stave off her orgasm.

  She comes and her body falters, so I pull her up by the small of her back, her legs moving to straddle me, and I hold her body to mine as I flex my hips up and down, pounding into her from below. Our mouths collide in a ravenous, out-of-control kiss as I explode inside of her.

  Her ass falls in my lap, but I’m still so hard, we sit for a second catching our breath. Her hands run down the back of my head, and my hands run up and down her naked ba
ck.

  “So, I’m forgiven?” I ask.

  She playfully rolls her eyes, her lips pressing to mine, and when she draws back, there’s a smile on her lips. “This time. Because I really wanted to fuck you in your fuck-me suit.”

  21

  Quinn

  Sunday mornings there’s nothing better than lying around, being lazy.

  Jagger’s hand ventures up my side, securing me to his bare chest. “Good morning.” His voice is groggy and sleepy, and I’ve never wanted to hear him speak more.

  His declaration last night that he didn’t want me to donate a kidney was maybe a tad selfish and a whole lot Neanderthal, but my heart leaped out of my body, pulsating in his hands, saying, Hold me, big guy, I’m all yours.

  “What do you want to do today?” he asks, his five o’clock shadow prickling my skin. I wonder how that roughness would feel if he was between my legs.

  “I was thinking a beach day?”

  He nuzzles me even closer, his morning arousal evident between my ass cheeks. “Perfect. That was going to be one of my dates, you know.”

  “What was?” I stretch, and his hands don’t miss the opportunity to graze over my body.

  “A reading day on the beach. You used to love sitting under the umbrella and reading the entire day.”

  I smile at the memory of him reading Judy Blume’s In the Unlikely Event. He’d never admit now how much the sex scene between two of the characters right before one of the planes went down turned him on. After all, they were virgins and… well, I was anyway.

  I circle around in his arms. “I love it.”

  He kisses my nose. “But first, I need to refuel. I have a feeling you in a bikini isn’t going to let me concentrate on reading.”

  “I don’t wear a bikini.”

  He loses the smile.

  “One-piece all the way. One of those Speedo ones that makes sure to push and hold my breasts down.”

  He holds me tighter. “In that case, we’re stopping for breakfast and shopping before we go to my place.”

  I giggle, kissing his chest, running my mouth up his neck. Nothing better than knowing you can kiss the man you love anytime your heart desires.