Chapter 26 #2
I draw in a breath and nausea climbs my throat until…he sucks in a lungful of air and coughs, alive.
I choke down the lump in my throat and crawl off him, backing away.
I stare at the blood on my hands, none of it mine. Shame covers my skin, the line I almost crossed making my body shake because it’s still there. The line right in front of me as if I can still stumble over it before I have a chance to stop myself.
Drew is gone. Hugo gasps and rolls over, the gun forgotten. Axel and Nicholas crawl out of the car.
I dial 911, not because I’m worried anyone is hurt, but because Hugo is too stupid to count his losses. “There’s been a non-fatal accident with injuries on Highway 112, mile marker six.”
“No, man,” Hugo spits out, all of them climbing to their feet. “Shit.”
In moments, they’re gone, scaling the incline back up to the road and disappearing. Probably back to Weston, or at least to wait for a ride.
I hang up the phone, the line not even connected out here in the woods.
My feet move, ambling through the forest.
What would’ve happened if I’d killed him tonight? Would I have bribed his two guys to keep quiet? To help me bury him? Would I have had to go back to Green Street?
How many more lies would I have told?
Shortly before my father died, I remember learning that my homelife was a little different than my friends’.
It was a realization like a crack of thunder in the sky.
My parents didn’t scream like one of my friend’s parents did.
I didn’t have to hide birthday money for fear my mom would steal it, or carry my own house key because there was never anyone home.
I don’t remember exactly how my father explained it, but one day it dawned on him that he had the exact life he always wanted.
He didn’t wait for the future anymore, or thirst for something else. He got everything he wanted.
I want one thing. I want Quinn running with a smile to the whole life in front of her.
And I’d really love to never have to leave again.
After I deal with Hugo and Drew, I’ll unload the firehouse and turn myself in.
Stripping off my filthy shirt, I cross the street and Madoc’s property, slipping into the outdoor shower hidden off the side of the house, in the hedges.
Starting the water, I use the shirt to wipe off the blood on my face.
The silent house looms next to me, and I’m sure there are a couple staff—a caterer and bartender, at least—getting things ready for Madoc, Jared, and Jax’s family, friends, and racers when they get here.
I can’t make myself care, though. Madoc could be home any moment, and I wouldn’t hide.
I probably wouldn’t even be able to disguise my anger and distress.
What does Drew want?
I can imagine. His job back.
And then realization hits as the shower cascades down my scalp and back. He may try to force me into coercing Madoc to get his name cleared and his job reinstated. That has to be why Hugo hasn’t hurt me yet, right? Drew interceded and kept him at bay for a reason.
“Lucas, are you okay?” I hear Quinn’s voice in front of me.
The world tilts behind my lids, and I don’t recognize what I’m feeling, but it’s not confusion. Or even fear.
I let my head fall back, warm water covering my head. I’m not a murderer.
I’m in control, and Hugo and Drew aren’t on the same side.
I feel her hands on my face. “What happened to you?”
I guess she’s not mad anymore. Opening my eyes, I let my forehead fall to hers and take her waist in my hands. She stiffens, her hands dropping to her sides, but she doesn’t move away.
“I know I should leave you alone,” I say as the water pours down my face. “I know I should find someone else. You know why I don’t?”
“You’re changing the subject,” she retorts. “What happened to you?”
I clench my jaw, swallowing before I say, “Because I know that when I return for someone’s wedding, or someone’s funeral, in five or ten years, I’ll see you across the room with some guy and feel like he’s touching someone who doesn’t belong to him.”
He’s touching someone who belongs to me. That’s why I can’t let her go.
Even now, I know. I’ll always feel it between us.
Her brows pinch together. “Lucas…”
I run my knuckles down her cheek as my thumb glides down the bridge of her nose. “And I’ll think that even if I have another woman on my arm.”
Quinn is mine.
She shakes her head slowly. “Stop—”
“I don’t want to,” I interject, that particular truth so easy to spill. “I don’t want to stop. Believe me, I wish I did.”
I wish I could do what was best for her, but for all of my faults, the most prominent seems to be greed. I want her again and again and again and…
I cup her ass in both hands and press us together, eating up her mouth in soft, quick nibbles and kisses.
She’s so tender, her skin tasting like peaches.
Her hands come up to push against my chest, but her mouth still opens for me.
She lets me bite and lick and kiss while her eyes close like she’s on a roller coaster and has butterflies in her stomach.
God, she’s beautiful.
Watching her start to kiss me back, I unbutton her little red shorts and slip a hand in, sliding a finger inside of her.
She jolts, arching her back and gripping my arms. “Oh, God,” she moans. “Not here. What are you doing?”
I slip in a second one, pumping them in and out as I look down into her big eyes. Fingers soaked, I swirl them over her clit.
“Getting you out of my system,” I nearly choke out. “You want to get me out of yours?”
Her eyes narrow in anger, and she bares her teeth.
And she nods.
“Fuck…” I growl, gathering her in my arms and twisting her around to pin her against the shower wall.
Thin strips of light peek through the wood panels on all three sides, and I kick my leg behind me, slamming the door shut.
A few birds chirp as they flap their wings overhead, and the showerhead above her splashes water between us.
I massage her tongue with mine as I pull her tank top down her arms, baring her breasts, and push her shorts and panties down her legs and off her feet.
Gazing down into her face, I rub soft circles over her clit, feeling her bend her knee to open up for me a little.
Pushing two fingers inside of her again, I almost shiver at the tight heat. She’s tighter than my fucking hand. Jesus.
She whimpers, twisting her head away, and I growl in her ear, “I don’t want to stop, and you don’t want me to.”
Crooking my fingers again and again, I coax her gently, making her eyes roll and her lids flutter.
Taking her hand, I guide it to her pussy, watching her fingers take over.
Backing up just a foot, I feast on the scene in front of me—Quinn with her top at her waist and the straps down her arms, one hand opening her and the other playing.
Her breasts shake with her breathing, wet hair hanging in her eyes.
She performs, never taking her eyes from mine.
My cock swells, pumping with blood, and I almost don’t give a shit that I don’t have protection.
Jutting my hand under one of the dispensers, I pump conditioner into my palm as I unfasten my jeans. Her eyes go wide, watching me pull out my shaft and stroke the length, my fist slow and tight around it. “I don’t have a condom again,” I tell her.
But I’m fucking coming on her stomach. I’ll damn well be her first everything, if not her only.
Leaning my arm on the wall behind her, I pump my cock, thirsty for her taste, and my teeth aching for a bite of her.
Her supple breasts look like heaven, and my lips hum with the need to feel them.
My memory is clear on how soft she is. Of how I want to run my mouth over every inch, leaving nothing unexplored.
But I hold off, the torture creating this longing that feels like I’m starving more every second. How long can I go before I ravage her?
She watches me stroke, the conditioner making my cock glisten, and she starts to whimper as her hand flicks faster. Her clit rocks back and forth with her fingers.
Her breathing stutters as her chest rises, and I dart my gaze to hers, watching her come, but…
She jerks her hand away. “I want you inside me now.” She pulls me into her arms, pressing her body to mine. “Hurry, I’m about to come,” she pants.
The skin of my cock stretches like a rubber band, and I feel the cum sweating from my tip.
Fuck, yes.
Burying my mouth in her neck, I back her into the wall and wrap her leg around my waist. Holding her eyes, I thrust, sliding inside of her so easily. She’s so wet, and so am I, and in a moment I’m sheathed in fire.
I shudder, groaning. “Ah, fuck…” God, I’m about to spill right now.
“Quinn…” With my mouth hovering over hers, we stare at each other as I roll my hips fast and hard, sending her sliding up and down the wall. I don’t want her to lose it. I want her to come more than once, and if I go slow, I’m definitely going to come too soon.
But as we chase her orgasm, a hard thud lands on the other side of the wall. We freeze.
“Madoc, no,” a woman says, her voice something between a whimper and a whisper.
I stop, Quinn and I searching each other’s eyes for what to do. What the fuck? Is that…?
“The boys are out,” we hear Madoc say directly behind Quinn’s head, “and A.J.’s at Jasmine’s for a sleepover.”
Panting and gasping drifts over to us, followed by a woman’s moan.
They kiss and coo, and I try to see through the slits, but all I can make out is people moving.
“But we have guests,” Fallon hisses.
“Fuck ’em.”
I look back down to Quinn, the fright in her eyes so precious I want to smile. Fuck ’em.
I said the same thing to her when she was worried that her brothers would find us at the camp. Fallon was right. I do take after him.
Starting slow again, with her big brother on the other side of the wall, I fuck her, sliding my cock out to the tip and driving back in to the hilt.
Her eyes close, her face contorting into a cross between pleasure and pain, and I hold her head, flattening my body to hers, and kissing her beautiful lips.
“Don’t let them hear me,” she whispers as she trembles.
In and out, I move. Slow. Quiet. Holding her tight and wrapping my arm all the way around her neck so my hand covers her mouth while she comes on me.
“Baby,” I say in her ear, hearing her brother elicit the same cries and moans from his wife.
Quinn’s hot pussy covers me, her body going lax as the pleasure washes over her, but I don’t wait.
I start again, kneading her ass and locked in her hooded gaze.
“Gimme a beer!” someone shouts in the distance. And music drifts into the air.
People are here, but we’re exactly where we want to be, unable to stop.
She whimpers again, and I move my hand off the wall and into her hair. Wrapping it around my fist, I slowly pull her head back so her eyes meet mine.
“Say you love me,” I mouth as Madoc and Fallon do whatever they’re doing to make each other grunt and groan over there.
Quinn’s hair sticks to her face, and I brush my lips over hers.
“Feel me,” I growl under my breath as I stop and hold my cock inside of her. “And say you love me.”
She rubs her hands up my chest, rolling her hips and picking up where I left off instead.
I wet my finger in my mouth and then slip it down her behind, using it to circle her tight little ass.
She stops breathing for a moment.
She stops moving altogether, actually, and I grin.
I press the tip inside, grunting as I harden inside of her more than I thought possible. God, she’s so fucking tight.
“Say you love me,” I whisper.
Her little mews turn short and high-pitched as I slip the finger in up to the first joint and leave it there. She contracts around it, and I hope I live long enough to be inside of her this way. All I know is I won’t get her out of my system tonight.
Squeezing my finger and with my dick inside her body, she picks up the pace, coming in to tease me with little kisses as she rides me with her legs wrapped around my body.
“Deeper,” she begs.
And I press my finger deeper. “Say it.”
She moans, letting her head fall back as she rocks in and out, faster and faster. Then, she holds her breath, her entire body tensing like stone as the second orgasm racks through her.
“I love you,” she murmurs, only loud enough for me to hear as she squeezes her eyes shut and shudders.
Her pussy clenches, wetter as she rides it out, and I grip her waist with both hands, keeping her moving as I’m ready to come too.
I groan. “Oh, baby.” I bite my bottom lip, hearing laughter and voices growing closer. “I love….”
I love you too.
But I can’t say it. What if she loses me? It’ll be easier to hate me if I never said it.
“Fuck, I love how I can’t breathe if I’m more than an arm’s length away from you,” I gasp instead.
My orgasm rips through me, and I come, grappling her like my fucking life depends on it. I kiss her hard, crushing my lips to hers. “I love…” And I smile. “I love that I’m already hungry for you again.”
Her father and brothers and nephews could kill me, and I would still want her.
Devoid of reason. To hell with the rules.
I want her, and God help me when I can no longer hide it.