Chapter 35 #2
When his limbs worked again, he got up and disposed of the condom.
Back in the house of mirrors, he glimpsed her curled up on one of the white fuzzy rugs, and he stretched out beside her, his front to her back, gathering her to him—where she belonged.
Eyes closed, she wiggled closer and hummed contentedly.
He blinked at their reflections, loving what he saw.
She fit him perfectly, in so many ways. As he drifted off, the words, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” wound through his head.
Sarah stirred to Quinn wrapped around her, the sight reflected unendingly in the shimmering silver mirrors. Physically, her heart rate and breathing had returned to normal, but mentally she was still trying to catch her breath.
A chorus of Wowwowwow’s buzzed in her head, leaving her at a loss for words to describe their soul-penetrating lovemaking.
Lovemaking, however, was too gentle a term for the passionate connection that had ignited them both.
Whatever else it was, it went light-years beyond a physical joining.
Something deep, visceral, and powerful had passed between them. This most definitely was not just sex.
When had she ever been so aroused, so moved? Never. The delicious burn in the muscles of her thighs and stomach, her sensitized skin, told her she should have been sated, but instead she craved more.
She studied his reflection. A broad, tanned forearm draped her middle, a dark contrast to her peach-tinged skin.
His large hand splayed across her chest, covering one breast fully while his fingers grazed the other.
His other arm was pillowed under his head, thick chestnut locks resting on his elbow.
A calf dusted in dark hair nestled between her legs.
Rhythmic breaths fell soft and warm on her neck.
The way he cradled her, infusing her with his heat, comforted her every nook and cranny.
How ironic that the man whose mere presence once had her spitting insults now evoked equally powerful feelings of an opposite nature.
When, and how, had that happened? It had been a gradual shift, an erosion of walls she’d built from anger and bitterness after her humiliation at Wolf’s hands.
But what about the blond babes Quinn drew into his orbit?
The same worn questions circled inside her brain.
Once COVID restrictions were lifted, would he revert to his old ways as a free-wheeling, high-scoring hockey hunk who trolled bars and clubs for hookups?
A little voice piped up in her head. No, it insisted.
She wanted to believe it, but only time would tell. Eyes wide-open.
Behind her, the hockey hunk stirred, mumbling under this breath. His leg bent hers back, and cool air soothed her tender parts. Still half-asleep, he kissed her neck while his arm and hand tightened their hold.
“Mmm, Sarah, smile.” He hummed a few bars of a familiar tune.
His eyes opened, and he stared at her staring back at him. “I really like this room,” he said in a dusky voice. “We might have to lock ourselves in and never leave.”
She twisted in his arms and faced him. His hand slid down her back to cup a cheek.
“Not sure how practical that is. We’ll need food, showers … And speaking of showers, I’d like to clean up.”
He planted a kiss on her forehead. “How about a swim first?”
“A swim where?”
His eyebrow quirked. “In the big, heated pool outside the gym?”
“I stuck my toe in there. I’m not sure how heated it is.”
“That was late in the winter, when it was still cold. It’s much warmer now.” When she eyed him dubiously, he added, “Where’s your sense of adventure? Let’s go find out just how warm it is. Besides, I can always heat you up.” Now his eyebrows bounced.
“You do have a talent for doing that.”
His lips tipped up in a happy, dimpled smile.
“All right,” she sighed. “I’ll get my suit.”
“No suits,” he scoffed. “We’re skinny dipping.”
“We are? But—”
“No one can see us.”
Before she could think of another argument, he was on his feet, hauling her up with him, a very determined look on his face.
A few giggles escaped her. “Can I at least wear a robe out there?”
He looked her up and down, and she nearly broke out in a blush. With a shrug, he began opening mirrored closet doors. “There are robes in here somewhere.” He went from one door to another.
“Aha!” he cried triumphantly, holding up two plush terry robes like the ones luxury hotels offered their guests. Blue for him, pink for her.
They covered up and made their way to the gym, where they grabbed oversized towels.
Quinn opened a glass slider, and they were out in the brisk night air. At the edge of the pool, he shucked his robe and tossed it on a lounge chair. She was clinging to the warmth of hers, but he stripped it off her, and it joined his. Then he pushed her in, making her gasp, and dove in after.
After the initial shock of the plunge, she began adjusting to the water temperature.
Sort of. Quinn was underwater, and he broke the surface, sucking in air and doing the man wet-hair-fling move.
The end result had him looking like he sported a cockeyed fin on his head.
He swam toward her, his body cutting a big shadow in the ghostly blue glow of the pool lights.
Beyond the pool, the backyard melted into a solid curtain of black.
Quinn gathered her up in his arms and flung her through the air. She landed with a Slap! With fake outrage, she lunged, wrapping herself around his back while she tried to haul him underwater. He laughed. “I think I have a flea on my back.” Strong hands peeled her off him and dunked her.
And so it went. They splashed, spluttered, raced, tackled, whooped, always with the same outcome: their bodies bumped together, wet skin sliding against skin, limbs entangling. Lingering kisses and fondling ensued.
During a moment of calm, Sarah wrapped her legs around him and gazed up at the star-freckled sky while he twirled her on the surface of the water.
They were plunged in quiet. Chilly air puckering her exposed skin, she righted herself and looped her arms around his neck.
He swam backward with her clinging to him.
Movement in the dark snagged her attention, and she strained, trying to pick out what it was.
He turned his head, peering in the same direction. “What are you looking at, babe?”
“I thought I saw something. Probably just a prowling cat or a raccoon.”
“There are probably all kinds of critters out here every night we never see.”
A devilish gleam lit his eyes, and he was wrestling her again, trying to toss her through the air.
She managed to kick his legs out from under him and escape his grasp, squealing as she scrabbled out of the pool.
Shivering, she snatched the towels and raced up the stairs to the main deck and the hot tub, shouting, “Last one in the hot tub has to make dinner!”
Loud splashes and squishing sounded behind her, but she slipped into the hot bubbles before Quinn reached her. With a loud, satisfied “Ahhh,” she sank until the water touched her chin. “Much better.”
Grinning like a madman, he clambered in after her. Their horseplay continued but transformed into tongue-filled kisses, roaming hands, and bodies melding together.
“We should go inside,” he panted.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t think what I want to do to you is going to work in a hot tub. Besides, I need another condom.” Her nipples perked up.
Soon they were wrapped in towels, dashing into the warmth of the family room. Quinn locked the door behind them and guided Sarah to the couch, where he sat and pulled her on to his lap so she straddled him. The towels came off, a condom went on, and she impaled herself on him.
Heaven.
After adjusting to his girth, she began moving, her hands anchored on his shoulders. His eyes devoured her, and soon he was thrusting up into her. Their voices and breathing gathered speed. Sarah was lost in the feel of him deep inside her.
An outside light came on, flooding the deck in brightness.
Quinn stilled, pulled her off him, and rose to investigate.
Her bubble of bliss popped. He stood at the French door, stark naked, scanning.
The memory of shattered glass cooled her, and she gathered a pillow to herself. “Do you see anything?”
“Nah. It was probably that cat or whatever you saw. It must have come up on the deck and triggered the motion sensor lights.” He tugged on the door handle.
“All locked up.” Then he turned with a shrug and headed back to the couch.
His swollen shaft seemed to be pointed right at her, and it bobbed as he walked.
Her face must have given away her amusement and her appreciation because he glanced down at himself and gave her a wide, dimpled grin. “Heat-seeking missile.”
She toppled over in laughter, but humor was swallowed up in greedy kisses as he pushed her on her back.
He lowered himself on top of her, his knee parting her legs.
Then he entered her, slowly, and eased out.
His feet found purchase against one end of the couch, and he surged back into her.
And again, over and over, his pace steady and relentless.
Wrapping her legs around his flexing hips, she met his powerful thrusts with all she had.
He rocked her hard, shooting her beyond the stratosphere—twice—before reaching his own climax with a roar.