Chapter 18 #3
Finally, he twisted in August’s hold with a playful growl, flipping them so he loomed over the other man, pinning him to the mattress. “You asked for it.”
August’s answering grin had Quinn scowling.
“I was just being sweet with you.”
Sure, he was.
Unlike August’s tender, exploratory kisses, Quinn’s mouth descended with hungry and possessive bites that he masked as retaliation, though deep down, he knew it ran deeper.
He latched onto the curve of August’s neck, sucking hard enough to draw the skin taut between his teeth, tongue flicking out to taste the salty sheen of sweat lingering.
August squirmed beneath him at first, a breathy laugh escaping when Quinn’s teeth grazed sensitive spots, but there was no real protest. Just a shiver that ran through his body, and a cock twitching against Quinn's thigh despite their recent release.
“Quinn—hey, that tickles.”
Quinn didn't let up, moving to a fresh patch of skin just below August’s jaw, sucking with deliberate pressure, feeling the pulse thrum under his mouth as blood rushed to the surface.
He pulled back briefly to admire the blooming red mark, then dove in again, alternating between sharp nips and deep, pulling sucks that promised to leave dark, unmistakable bruises.
The third hickey had August arching, his hands fisting the sheets as a giggle broke free. “Okay, okay—too much!” August gasped, half-laughing, half-moaning as he wriggled free, gently shoving at Quinn's shoulders.
Quinn relented and allowed August to sit up, admiring his flushed cheeks and his neck that was already mottled with purple spots. “You’re still such a whiny baby,” Quinn said, chuckling when August’s angry gaze snapped to him.
“And I’m sure your nipples are still super ticklish, so don’t tempt me.” August reached down to carefully slide the spent condom off his softening cock, tying it with a quick knot before swinging his legs over the bed's edge.
Quinn watched him go, propped on his elbows with a smug grin, his own body still sticky and feeling sated. August returned from the bathroom moments later with a cloth in hand, and the blood splatters from his unfortunate nosebleed were wiped away.
He knelt beside Quinn on the bed and pressed the damp fabric to his chest first, wiping away the sweat and traces of cum with slow, thorough strokes.
Sighing, Quinn flopped back down and soaked up the feeling of August Snow taking care of him. Fuck, if Esme were still alive, she would be shaking her head in disbelief.
And calling Quinn a moron.
And calling August a moron.
“Your eyes,” August said, stirring Quinn from his staring contest with the ceiling. “I thought they were a bright green, but it’s because they’re two different colours.”
Quinn knew that, but the observation confused him because August already knew about his eyes, too.
“Central heterochromia,” said Quinn, sliding his gaze to land on August’s upturned mouth, like he was waiting for him to say he was joking—but he didn’t.
“Your eyes are as green as poison apples, Quinn Harlow, and you have the foul mouth to match. Keep saying you don’t want me, but we both know how sweet you can be once I have you on your knees.”
“They’re distracting,” said August. “They’re beautiful, though. I just never noticed the gold around the pupils.”
Quinn crinkled his nose, and August frowned and stood, putting distance between them.
“So—I think it’s safe to say that I’m on board with the friends-with-benefits thing,” said August, scratching the back of his head. “If you want to go again, just text me whatever times work for you, and we’ll meet when we’re not busy.”
Quinn nodded because it sounded reasonable. “How’s your head?”
Relief filled August’s expression, and Quinn felt his chest tighten with happiness for him.
“It’s gone,” August said softly. “I don’t know for how long, but I’ll take anything at this point.”
Quinn sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, giving August a sincere smile. “Good. You should go back to your room and sleep. Maybe with the migraine gone, you’ll sleep better, and the extra rest will keep it away.”
August looked tired, and Quinn had mangled his neck. It was time for him to return to his teammate and pass out until they had to leave in the morning.
“I’m going to shower super fast, and then I’ll be out of your hair,” said August. “If Niko is still awake, I don’t want to wake him up.”
Quinn gestured for him to go ahead, lips pressing together tightly when August flashed him a boyish grin before swaggering into the bathroom.
Quinn was too tired to go looking for his phone, so he waited for August to take his five-minute shower, his muscles tingling as he watched the man get out, get dried, and get redressed in record time.
“You’re okay with me leaving?” August asked, being far too considerate than what the situation called for.
“Very okay,” said Quinn. “Because I am very tired and I still have a bed to clean before I can sleep.”
“Shit.” August strode over to him and helped Quinn onto his unsteady legs. “You get in the shower, and I’ll change the sheets real fast. I’ll be gone before you get out—and I’ll leave a tip for the housekeeping staff.”
It was clear that someone had taught August manners over the years, and Quinn was greatly appreciative. He let August guide him into the bathroom, saying a quiet goodbye as he left to take care of the bed.
Shaking his head, Quinn stepped into the shower and braced a hand against the tiled wall, drawing in slow, steady breaths. He stayed like that until he heard the click of his hotel door closing, leaving him alone with the quiet and August’s scent still clinging stubbornly to his skin.
Jaw tight, he reached for the body wash and squeezed too much into his palm. He needed to scrub it away, all of it, because he didn’t trust himself to stay strong when every part of him had wanted—still wanted—to ask August not to leave.
Scowling, Quinn worked the lather across his skin, determined to wash every trace of him away.