by Susan Stoker
Her brows drew down in irritation. “What are you laughing at?”
“You, Quinn.”
She tried to pull away, but he tightened his hands behind her. “I’m laughing that you think you haven’t been giving me anything.”
“I haven’t. I’ve been selfish and I’m always relying on you.”
“I wish you’d rely on me more,” Driftwood told her. “Seriously. You’re one of the hardest women to do things for. I know you don’t like it when I ‘educate people,’ as you so eloquently put it, so I’ve held myself back so many times when I hear someone talking about you. You won’t let me pay for an eighty-cent bag of candy and you have no idea how much your fun, breezy texts mean to me.”
“You ended up paying for those stupid M&Ms,” she mumbled, looking away from him.
Driftwood put a finger under her chin and eased her head back so she was looking at him. “I’m not keeping score, Emmy. This isn’t a softball game. When you need me, I want to be there for you. And when I need you, like tonight, I know without a doubt you’ll be there for me. I was thrilled when I pulled up and saw your car here. You were just what I needed, and I didn’t even know it until I realized you were here.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I gave you a key to my place for a reason. I want you here. I like you being here. I wish you’d stay when I’ve got a shift.”
“It feels weird.”
“What does?”
“Being here without you. I don’t like it.”
Driftwood smiled and gathered her hair in one hand and held it at the nape of her neck. He gently pulled until her head was tilted to the side, and he leaned forward and licked her neck. Whispering into her ear, he asked, “Why?”
She shivered in his arms and didn’t pull away from his touch. “Because I don’t like sleeping in your bed without you.”
He liked that answer. A lot. But at the same time, it worried him. “I can’t change my schedule, Emmy. I hate that I can’t sleep by your side every night, but I love my job.”
“I know,” she said immediately. “I just…I don’t live here, so it feels weird to be here when you aren’t.”
“Then move in.”
His words sat between them like a heavy fog.
Quinn sat back, and this time he let her. She stared at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously.” He hadn’t thought about the words before he’d said them, but now that he had, they felt right. He’d already had the thought that he’d be okay with her bringing all her stuff over to his house, and this was why. He wanted her here. All the time. Even when he wasn’t. He wanted to know she was sleeping in his bed, eating his food, watching his TV. It may seem fast, but the months he’d been friends with her, getting to know her, made this absolutely feel like the right thing to do.
“We haven’t even been dating that long. What if you get sick of me? If I irritate you?”
“Emmy, we’ve known each other for months. I’m not going to get sick of you. Having you sleep here the last week has been wonderful. If it makes you feel more comfortable, you don’t have to get rid of your apartment just yet. But bring over as much stuff as you want. There’s plenty of room in the closet and I’ll clear a few drawers for you.”
She stared at him with wide, shocked eyes, and Driftwood wasn’t sure what she was thinking. But it certainly wasn’t what came out of her mouth when she finally did speak.
“My entire life, no one has wanted to live with me.”
His heart twisted, and Driftwood wanted to hurt someone on her behalf all over again. “Tell me,” he coaxed instead of getting pissed.
“You know about my mom. I was shuttled from one foster home to another. No matter how much I might’ve liked a place, I always got moved eventually. The older I got, the less welcoming my new ‘families’ were. No one wanted me there, not the freak with the thing on her face. I was too weird looking. Too different. Even in college, I was assigned a roommate my first year and she certainly didn’t like living with the weirdo. I moved into my own place my sophomore year and lived alone until I graduated. Then I got the job here and moved into my apartment. I don’t even know if I’m a good roommate. I’ve lived on my own for so long, I have no idea how to even be a roommate.”
“Then don’t be my roommate,” Driftwood told her. “Be my lover. My best friend.”
Tears glistened in her eyes as she processed his words.
“If anything, I need to be the one worrying. You haven’t had to share a bathroom with anyone before. You’ve only had to worry about your own messes and doing your own dishes and laundry. If you move in here, you won’t have as much privacy as you’re used to. You’ll have to deal with my moods, and I do get in them, especially after a long shift. Inevitably, I’ll want to watch TV when you want quiet to read. You’ll be irritated when I want to watch football or basketball and you want to watch something else. We’re going to get in each other’s way and that’s a big adjustment, not only for you, but for me too. But, Emmy, I can tell you this—I’ve never asked a woman to move in before because I haven’t felt the deep-seated need to be with anyone that I feel with you. Keep your apartment. We’ll see how things go. Okay?”
She nodded.
“So…you’ll move in?”
She nodded again, and gave him a small smile.
Without a word, he suddenly stood, holding Quinn tight.
She screeched and grabbed hold of him around his neck. “Don’t drop me!” she exclaimed.
“As if,” he scoffed. “I can carry Moose around when he’s wearing all his gear. Compared, you’re as light as a feather.”
She rolled her eyes. “Where are you taking me?”
“To our bed,” he said, moving down the hall.
“But it’s only like seven o’clock.”
“And?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.
Quinn offered a sly smile then. “You’re right. I’m awfully tired. And you have to be exhausted after the day you’ve had.”
Driftwood smirked. “Tired. Yeah. Is that a euphemism for horny?”
She giggled.
He dropped her on the mattress and she laughed even harder.
Driftwood came down over her and caged her in with his arms. He waited until she looked up at him. “Thank you for being here, Quinn. I didn’t think anything could shake me from the funk I was in when I left the station. But I was wrong. Just seeing you did wonders. It made me focus on the good things in my life rather than the bad things I’d witnessed.”
“I feel the same way,” she told him. “When I’m with you, I forget all about this thing on my face.”
Driftwood leaned down and kissed her then, showing her without words how he felt about her. How much he was coming to love her. She returned the kiss with the kind of passion he’d seen glimpses of over the last week. They hadn’t made love yet, but everything they’d done before now had hinted that when they did come together completely, she’d blow his socks off.
Turning so she was on top, Driftwood didn’t take his lips from hers. She settled over him without missing a beat, her fingers immediately going to the buttons of his shirt. She undid them one by one even as she devoured his mouth.
When she finally pulled back, he was hard as a rock under her and his shirt was hanging open. Quinn’s hands caressed from his belly to his neck, then back down again. He loved the way she was looking at him, as if he were a juicy steak and she hadn’t eaten in days.
As much as he wanted to keep things slow, he needed her more.
“Take off your shirt,” he ordered, tugging at the hem. Without hesitation, she grabbed it and whipped it over her head, throwing it onto the floor without another thought. Driftwood opened his mouth to tell her to keep going, to take everything off, but she was way ahead of him. She climbed off of him and, without taking her eyes from his body, began to strip.
Not one to waste time, Driftwood did the same. He unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them over his hips, taking his boxers
with them. He kicked them off and half sat up to fully remove his shirt.
Quinn’s eyes were locked on his rock-hard dick, but she didn’t stop taking off her own clothes. Blindly, not wanting to miss a second of seeing her fully naked body for the first time, Driftwood reached for the table next to his bed. He fumbled with the box of condoms he’d put there the other week. He quickly opened the packet and smoothed the prophylactic down his cock.
As he was preparing himself, Quinn crawled back over him, straddling his thighs. He could see her excitement glistening on her open folds, and as much as he wanted to throw her on her back and enter her in one quick thrust, he’d never do that before making sure she was really ready for him.
“Scoot up here,” he said, putting his hands on her hips and tugging her forward.
She awkwardly shifted, her folds brushing against his hard cock as she lifted herself over him to come down on his belly.
Clenching his teeth, Driftwood did his best to control himself. Just as he’d made her come with his hand over the last week, she’d done the same. But they’d never seen the other completely naked as they were now. It was far more intimate, sexier.
He could feel her warmth against his belly. His thumbs brushed back and forth on her hipbones. “Okay?” he asked.
Quinn nodded and bent over slightly, resting her hands on the sheet under him.
Her breasts shook as she moved, and Driftwood couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Lean up here,” he pleaded, tightening his hands on her hips.
She moved until her tits were right over his face. Driftwood saw the blush on her cheek and upper chest, but couldn’t take the time to reassure her with words. She was so fucking beautiful, and she was all his.
The second he took one of her tits into his mouth, she groaned and arched her back, pressing her pussy against his stomach. Driftwood felt his dick twitch and brush against her ass.
God. He’d never felt this turned on. As he continued to suckle her, he encouraged her to rock back and forth over him. The more he sucked, the more she moaned and squirmed.
He let go of her nipple with an audible pop and caught the other tit with one hand while still keeping hold of her hip. He could smell her arousal now, and feel it on his belly.
As much as he was enjoying sensually torturing her, he was also making himself suffer.
Not sure how much longer he could last, Driftwood abruptly turned, forcing her onto her back.
Quinn was lost in sensation. She’d never felt as desperate as she did right now. John’s mouth on her breasts as she hovered over him felt so different from when he’d sucked on her while she’d been on her back. Every tug of his lips sent pangs of ecstasy straight to her clit. She was soaked, and knew she should be embarrassed with how wet she was, but she couldn’t bother.
She had the brief thought that she might just be able to orgasm without touching her clit, when John abruptly turned over. She blinked, looking up at him, trying to adjust to the change in position.
His hands clutching her hips, he’d come up on his knees between her legs, forcing them farther apart. Looking down, Quinn saw his condom-covered dick inches from her pussy.
Without asking permission, which he really didn’t need—if he couldn’t tell how much she wanted him to touch her, then he was blind, deaf, and dumb—John eased one finger inside her tight sheath.
They both moaned.
He began to move his finger in and out of her, slowly and steadily.
“John,” she moaned. “More.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s been a while. It’s going to be touch and go for a second no matter what. But I don’t care. I want you. I need you.”
Instead of putting his dick inside her, he eased a second finger in. Quinn spread her legs as wide as she could get them and grabbed hold of his biceps. “Please. God. I need you, stop teasing me!”
His fingers eased out of her and spread her wetness up to her clit. The second he touched her there, she jumped.
“God, you’re so sensitive,” he muttered.
The harder he rubbed, the more she wiggled under him.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ten minutes ago,” she responded a little petulantly.
John chuckled, and she was about to reprimand him when she felt the tip of his cock press again her folds. She lifted her leg to try to give him more room. John grasped it and put it over his shoulder as he leaned closer.
Looking up, Quinn saw his head was bent and he was staring at her intently.
“Okay?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah.”
He pressed in a bit more, and Quinn couldn’t help but wince.
“Shit,” he muttered and began to pull out.
Quinn tightened her leg on his shoulder and tugged on his arms. “No! Please. Don’t stop.”
“I won’t hurt you,” he said firmly.
“John,” she pleaded. “You’re not hurting me, not really. It’s just been a while. I can take it. I can take you. I want you. Please.”
With a nod, he pushed into her once more.
Trying to relax her muscles, Quinn did her best to keep her face impassive.
“I’m in,” he said softly.
Quinn could feel his balls pressed up against her backside, and she felt full. Really full. When he didn’t move after a moment, she asked, “John?”
“I’m giving us both a minute,” he said. Then he chuckled and said, “If I moved even an inch right now, I’d blow.”
Quinn laughed and he groaned. “Fuck, that felt good.”
“What? This?” she asked, and tightened her Kegel muscles around him.
“Oh yeah, that,” John agreed. “Do it again.”
She did, and he moaned again. Then he pulled out until only the very tip of his cock was inside her and slowly pushed back in. He did that several times before her hips began to move upward to meet his slow and steady thrusts.
“You ready for more?”
“Yes,” she told him emphatically.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered.
With any other man, Quinn might’ve balked. Might’ve told him she was fine, or might’ve faked an orgasm. But this was John. He’d already gotten her off with his own hand several times, and the last thing she wanted was to fake anything with him.
She took her right hand off of John’s arm and moved it between their bodies. Every time he pushed inside her, the back of her hand brushed against his lower belly.
“Faster, Emmy. I want your orgasm to trigger mine.”
Well, shit, no pressure there, huh? But she didn’t say the thought out loud, she just quickened her fingers against her clit. John leaned over her farther, making it harder for her to finger herself, but she didn’t complain and didn’t take her eyes from his.
She watched as a blotch of red formed on his upper chest, felt the muscles in his arms tighten.
Seeing for herself how much he was enjoying making love to her did wonders for her self-esteem. His eyes stayed on her face the entire time he was thrusting. He didn’t close them, didn’t throw his head back. He was fucking her. Quinn Dixon. The chick with the weird birthmark.
All her life, she’d prayed for this. For someone to see her. The real her. And here he was. With her, inside her, loving her as she’d never been loved before in her life.
As if that thought was all it took, she detonated. Her thighs shook with the overwhelming ecstasy. She forced herself to keep her eyes open even as her world exploded.
John moved one hand to her ass and lifted her into his last thrust. He planted himself as deep inside her as possible as he plummeted over the edge himself. His jaw tightened, and it wasn’t until her own body stopped shaking that he finally closed his eyes and let out a huge exhale.
After he’d recuperated, he gently took her leg off his shoulder and eased out of her. He rolled over onto his side and pulled her with him. They lay like that for several minutes, recovering.
Finally, he said, “I need to get rid of this condom.”
“Okay,” Quinn mumbled.
He chuckled and eased out of bed, taking the time to throw the comforter over her so she didn’t get chilled while he was gone.
Quinn watched him walk butt naked toward the bathroom, admiring the way his muscles moved under his skin. He entered the bathroom and was gone only a short time before he was coming back to bed. And the view from the front was just as nice as the one from the back.
His cock was semi-hard, and Quinn couldn’t help but be impressed. She’d felt it, even seen him when he’d undressed earlier, but watching him stride toward her completely comfortable in his own skin, was glorious.
When he arrived back at the bed, he was smirking. “I’m happy to let you see my cock up close and personal if you want,” he quipped as he lifted the comforter and climbed back into bed with her.
Quinn sighed.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“I’m just content,” she told him.
“Me too,” he said softly. “I didn’t think anything could get better than holding you while you slept, but this definitely tops it.”
“Having sex?”
“No. Watching you sleep after having made love to you.”
“Good answer,” Quinn said softly.
“My home is your home,” he told her. “You don’t have to ask to come over. You don’t have to worry about snooping. I’ve got no secrets. At least not from you. I need to clean out my garage so you can park in there, but I’ll get that done soon.”
“Your truck is way more expensive than my car,” she argued.
“It’s not about money,” John said. “It’s about safety. And both our vehicles can fit in there, I just have to move my shit around.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. The best day in my life was the day I met you, Emmy. It took us a while to get here, but I think it made us both appreciate what we have in one another.”
He was right.
“Go to sleep,” he said.
“It’s still early.”
“I know. But I can tell you’re tired by the circles under your eyes. I am too. It was a hell of a shift. I’ll set the alarm and make sure you’re up in time to get to work. Okay?”