SEVENTEEN Quincy #2
But I’m afraid the second one of us walks out of my room, that’ll be it. The illusion of mutual orgasms will shatter in the reality that exists outside these four walls.
Messy, complicated reality. People who want different things, and that’s not what tonight is about.
I ignore the ache between my legs. I shove away the thought of Sebastian’s body over mine, a hand on either side of my head as he pushed inside me, the stretch of him filling me up my biggest desire.
“We’d be good together.” I tilt my head so I can lick up his length. I replace my mouth with my hand until he’s whimpering again. Until he’s lifting his hips and meeting my strokes with rough thrusts. “Don’t you think?”
“Quincy.” My name is a frantic ask. An exultation. “I’m going to—”
I make the split-second decision to put my lips back on him, ignoring his protest of you don’t have to so I can swallow down his warm release when he spills inside me.
It takes him a few minutes to stop panting and unwind. When he does, I pop him out of my mouth. I sit back on my heels and lick my lips, satisfaction rolling through me. Sebastian blinks. His gaze is dreamlike, his breaths thoroughly depleted, and I smile.
“We should’ve done that years ago,” he manages to say. There’s perspiration on his forehead. More on his neck.
“When would we have had time for that?”
“I would’ve found time.” Sebastian tugs on my arm and brings me down to his side.
I let him, curling around him and resting my cheek on his chest. It’s only for a minute.
Something that doesn’t count once he leaves.
“Hang on. You have a little—” He swipes his thumb along the corner of my smile.
“I don’t like when people leave a mess behind. Open up.”
My body reacts on instinct, and I part my mouth. I hold out my tongue and suck on his finger, tasting him again.
“We did this earlier tonight,” I say. His chuckle is exhaustion needled with blissful contentment. “But with more clothes.”
“Never thought I’d be lucky enough to have round two.”
“Yeah.” I settle back in the crook of his shoulder, listening to his breathing. “Me too.”
“I need a minute to get a second wind, then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“There’s no rush.” I yawn, warmth washing over me when he drags the sheets up my legs. When he wraps his arms around me and holds me tight. I never would’ve thought he’d be a cuddler, but I like that he is. “If you’re feeling how I’m feeling, it’s going to take longer than a minute.”
“And you said it was only good.” Sebastian drops his chin to the top of my head. I reach up and give his necklace a tug. A furious blush spreads across my chest when he answers with a low hum. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“Maybe you’re terrible in bed.”
“Deflection. I get it.” He drums his fingers against my hip. He traces over my tattoo, infatuated with the thing. “You’re afraid to admit you want me again.”
“Conceited,” I mumble, squealing when he hugs me close. “This was a one-time thing, remember?”
“Whatever helps you sleep tonight, Pres. Do you—”
Our phones chime simultaneously with the sound of a notification. I frown and sit up. “That’s weird.”
“Probably a tropical storm forming in the Atlantic. Waters are hot.”
“Our friends could be dead.”
“Jumping right to conclusions, I see. Mine is in the pocket of my jeans, if you want to check.”
I take the sheet with me, wrapping it around my body while I hunt for our phones. I toss his on the bed and sit on the edge of the mattress, sorting through my apps.
“No texts,” I say.
“No storm either. What a letdown.”
“Oh.” I see the new email in my inbox and click it. “Oh.”
“What is it?” Sebastian comes up behind me, an arm around my stomach and his own phone still in his hand.
“It’s from the NWS. They—” I scan the body of the email and gasp. “They want me to come back for a final interview next week.”
“Way to go, Monroe.” He presses a kiss to the slope of my shoulder. His mouth lingers there for a beat. “I’m proud of you.”
“Wait a minute. Does that mean you got an email too?”
“Let’s see.” He clicks over to his inbox. There’s a new message at the top with the same subject line, delivered at the same time. “Looks like it.”
“Will that be weird?”
“Why would it be weird? Because I ate you out?”
“Jesus Christ.”
“He’s not here, but you can worship me if you want.”
I reach behind me, grabbing a pillow and smacking him square in the face. I ignore the laugh he barks out, the smile he tucks into the back of my neck. “Exactly because of that.”
“It’s still us. We’ll go head-to-head like we always do, and we can use it as foreplay.”
“No. Nope.” I turn in his hold and poke his chest. “One and done, Dunn.”
“Give me a good reason why we shouldn’t hook up again.”
“Because I—” I struggle to think up something on the fly. “It could get messy.”
“Are you scared you’re going to fall in love with me?” His dimple pops. His long eyelashes almost reach the lines of his cheekbones, and he really is so pretty. “We’re two adults. We can separate emotions from sex, can’t we?”
“We can, but I’ve scratched the itch. I’m satisfied. It was never going to be more than a night of getting off, and now I’ll be able to think straight and go after what I want: that job.”
“At least it was good.” He smirks. “Fine. I’ll play by your rules, but I’m not going to hold anything back at the interview. You better bring your A game.”
Sebastian stands and stretches his legs. He takes his time getting dressed, watching me as he pulls on his shirt and jumps into his jeans. He looks at my underwear around his wrist, then at me, and tucks them in his pocket.
“Hey,” I challenge. “Give those back.”
“Nope. Finders keepers. You can have my briefs. It’ll be an even exchange.”
“What am I supposed to do with those?”
“Add it to the shrine you have to me.”
“You’re obnoxious.” I cross my arms over my chest. Sebastian flashes me another full-toothed smile and turns for my door. “And I’m not going to miss you when you leave.”
“Sure you aren’t.” Before he goes, he bends, kissing my forehead. I have to force myself not to lean into him. “Be good, Quinny baby. I’ll see you next week.”
I listen to his feet pad across the hall.
The front door opens, then clicks closed.
I count to one hundred then slowly peel myself out of bed, heading for the bathroom.
I take my time showering and brushing my teeth.
I examine the marks he left on my body, trying to memorize each one.
I ignore the satisfaction of knowing they’re going to take a few days to disappear.
When I climb back into bed, clean, exhausted, and content in a way I haven’t been in years, I turn the pillows over so I can’t smell any traces of him. My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I find a message from Sebastian waiting for me. I hesitate before dragging my thumb across the screen.
Sebastian
Made it back to Cooper’s.
Do you miss me yet?
I lean back and pull the covers up, turning on my side to answer him.
Not even a little bit.
Sebastian
Figured. Here’s a treat in case you get lonely.
*Attachment: 1 image*
The picture downloads, a photo of a shirtless Sebastian flooding my screen.
A window behind him casts him in silvers and grays, but that’s not what catches my attention.
It’s my underwear in his hand, the thin material he’s holding up for the camera with the world’s biggest grin on his face like he’s fucking proud of himself that has me blushing.
Sebastian
Sleep tight, Quinny baby. I’ll dream of you.
I stare at the photo and the curve of his muscles. His messy hair and the smudged lipstick on his stomach, above his briefs. I’m tempted to give the photo a thumbs-down but I block him instead, desperately wishing out of sight meant out of mind.
When I close my eyes and force myself to fall asleep, I can still see him in my dreams, and he’s smiling at me.
This time, though, I’m smiling back.