Chapter 11
Lucas
The vein in my neck throbs, and I can barely take in a breath.
I watch her through the blinds in my closet doors, naked and writhing on my bed with her knees spread wide and her hand between her thighs.
What the fuck.
Her long torso arches on the mattress as she grips the inside of her leg with one hand and rubs herself with the other. And while her hand brushes slow and soft, she thrusts and moans, her breasts rocking like…
“Ah,” she groans. “Ah, ah, ah…”
…like she’s being fucked.
I close my eyes, heat flooding my groin. You can’t look at her.
She’s a kid. She’s always been a kid to me, and I can watch this—feel this—with any woman. Far away from here.
Her little whimper of pleasure drifts through my ears, and I open my eyes, trying to resist lifting them up to her.
But I do.
Long, toned legs. Smooth stomach. Round, full breasts. My hands ball into fists, empty. My lips part, nearly feeling her hard nipples over my mouth just before I envision myself sinking my teeth into her body.
I clench my jaw, my dick straining against my pants.
I should’ve cleared my throat by now. Done something to stop her.
If I’d known it was her entering the house, I wouldn’t have hid.
But it’s late, I’m drunk, and there are no more fucking knives in the house in case it was Green Street coming to ambush me.
I’m late as hell for the airport, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the things she said to me at the party.
My heart split in two, hearing how much I meant to her, and it nearly stopped when she said I wasn’t family anymore.
Drinking with Noah, I couldn’t forget it, and I told myself that I just wanted to leave the hat and the compass here at the house for her.
She would’ve found them when she moved in.
But I’d heard the door click shut downstairs and dipped into the closet to see who I was dealing with, when lo and behold, the girl herself wandered in.
“Ah,” she moans. “Ah.”
She rolls her hips into whoever she envisions on top of her.
Me?
Is it me she’s thinking of? What does she see? What do I look like? What am I doing to her?
She jerks, throwing her head back again and again, and my face flushes with fire, watching her finger herself like there’s a fucking guy nestled between her legs.
I can’t believe what’s happening.
Quinn?
It’s her, but it’s not.
Quinn is timid. Gentle. She’s not messy. Why is she doing this? She wasn’t fucking in love with me. It was a crush that I thought ended when she was ten.
But I watch her lifting her knees back so far I see her…
I drop my eyes, my chest caving. Quinn. A quiet kid. A little lonely. Always finding herself at my side. Did she really rush to grow up for me?
“I want my mouth on you,” she whispers.
The skin of her nipples is hard and tight, the flesh around them soft and plump, and she starts thrusting into her hand faster, almost growling.
So rough with herself. Quinn’s not rough.
I groan, leaning my arm up on the edge of the door and peering at her as I adjust my cock. Blood pumps, making my dick swell harder, and I can’t fucking leave until she’s done, and I can’t stay like this. I push my cock down as it strains against my pants. Fuck.
It’s almost as if she knows I’m watching, the view is that good.
But it’s not true. This is her home now, and she thinks I’m gone already.
I should be, but I don’t look at my watch. The hat and compass belong here. I had to bring them back. I didn’t say a proper goodbye to Madoc and Fallon, either. That needs to be done.
And Green Street… Should I have known nothing would stay buried forever?
If I interrupt her now, she’ll know I watched for several minutes. I can’t leave.
And I can’t look away. “Say my name,” I mouth.
She said she was ready, just not for me.
Who is she dreaming of then, if not me?
“Say it,” I whisper, too low for anyone to hear.
But then…
She rolls over, onto her stomach, and bends her knee out to the side. Propped up one arm, with her other hand still underneath between her legs, she fucks the mattress. “You can go harder,” she gasps.
My cock hardens like a rock, my gaze locked on her ass.
“Come on,” she pants. “Please, Noah. Harder.”
I jolt, every muscle hardening like steel. What the fuck did she say? I bare my teeth, watching her rock back and forth. Noah?
I grab my cock, ready to burst out of these doors and slice her fucking train of thought right out of her head. Dammit. I’m hard as a rock.
I still see her as a girl. Is that what she thinks? That another man will see her like this because I can’t?
I don’t want anyone else to see her like this. I…
“Come with me,” she says so sweetly. Her hair hangs in her face as she looks over her shoulder at whoever she’s dreaming is fucking her. “Come with me, come with me…”
A moan escapes me, and I bite the inside of my lip to stifle it.
She throws her hair back, the locks snaking down her back, grazing her ass, and every follicle of hair on my body rises.
I can see my hand running over her spine, gripping her hair after I push whoever she thinks she wants out of the fucking way.
I can feel my body thrusting into her, harder, as my mouth finds hers.
I take care of her. No one else.
God, Quinn…
I reach for the door, about to push it open. There won’t be any turning back.
“Come with me,” she whispers, and I watch her. Feeling her on top of me, riding me like she rides the mattress, as I grip her ass and feel her pant on my mouth. Come with me… The scent of her skin, the taste of her lips, the slick warmth of her pussy…
My whole body blazes and sparks under my skin, and I close my eyes as I listen to her come, damn close to spilling in my pants. I press a hand over my groin, harder.
She moans and then whimpers in a high-pitched tone.
Then there are soft, little breaths, fading away.
I open my eyes, but I don’t look at her. I stare at the floor, the sizzling embers in my brain making everything blurry.
She’s all grown up.
A beautiful, passionate young woman who can love a man with that incredible body, and they’re going to like what they see.
And feel.
I lock my jaw.
When I finally raise my eyes, she’s dressing, her gaze downcast as well.
She picks up my hoodie, and I think she’s going to put it on—keep it— but she doesn’t. “I wish it was Noah or Farrow or anyone else, but it was you I thought of.” She exhales hard. “And it’s out of my system. Finally.”
She tosses the hoodie into the corner of the room, on the floor, and I narrow my eyes, watching her leave.
She closes the door downstairs, and I walk out of the closet, stepping over to the bed.
Leaning down, I run my hand up the mattress, finding a tiny little spot where she dripped.
I run my thumb over it, still feeling her warmth. Did I know the moment I saw her at the gym that first night that I wasn’t getting on any planes any time soon?
I swallow. There’s no fucking way Noah Van der Berg or Farrow Kelly are ever seeing Quinn like that. This town is my home, Madoc is my family, and Quinn is mine to protect. She always was.
And I know I’m not out of your system, you little brat.
Jared climbs out of his car—one of the new Mustang Dark Horses—and if I had any energy, I’d laugh. It was only fate that he ended up getting sent Mustangs free of charge by the manufacturer for promoting the brand.
What did Madoc say yesterday? Yeah, Jared is all about supporting our local tow truck drivers. I shake my head. Madoc hates Fords, and I was glad to hear the rivalry still stands.
Jared sees me and stops, probably surprised I’m not on a plane right now.
He approaches me, the early morning light warming my shoulders. “What are you doing?” he asks.
I’ve been here for an hour, my plane probably somewhere over Eastern Europe by now. I haven’t called Isobel to warn her I won’t be back in the office tomorrow.
I can barely open my mouth to reply. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
I expect a pinch to appear between his eyebrows. It’s what happens when he looks at you like you’re dangerously close to wasting his time.
But instead, he chuckles. Breezing past me, toward his shop, he digs out his keys. “I know that feeling,” he muses, unlocking the door. “Got me into a lot of trouble back in the day.”
Yeah, well, I’m too old for that feeling. Too old to not have a plan.
But I can’t get her out from under my skin.
The memory of that gorgeous body moaning on my bed fills my brain, and I go hot everywhere, only a few feet from her most volatile brother.
When he doesn’t ask me what’s wrong, I speak up. “You’re not going to grill me?”
“No.” He shakes his head, leading the way into his shop. “You’re figuring it out, and I’ll leave you to it. You would’ve gone to Madoc if you wanted a hug.”
Thank you.
And yes, people don’t come to Jared to validate their decisions.
“I, um…” I clear my throat. “I need a car.”
He faces me. “What’s wrong with the one you have?”
It’s not tinted and everything Jared drives is.
Plus, Green Street knows what I drive. I need to look gone, at least for a couple of days until I figure out what I’m going to do.
But when I keep all that to myself, he gestures out to the lot full of company cars and older ones that various members of the family once used. “I’ve got a Colorado,” he drones on. “A 4Runner. Or Tate’s old Bronco?”
I spot one of his old Mustangs under a cover. I could tell that shape anywhere. The Boss 302. It was the car he had when I’d caught sight of him in the back seat with Tate twenty-five years ago. Madoc never let me drive it when I got old enough.
Good summer car.
“Anyone using the Boss?” I broach, chills spreading up my arms and my blood racing already.
He purses his lips, his baby still very close to his heart. Then, he opens a container on the wall and tosses a pair of keys at me. “Don’t fuck it up,” he grumbles.
I smile. “Thanks.”
I start to leave, but I need to say something.
“Noah’s not a bad kid,” I start.