Chapter 9
CHAPTER
NINE
Quinn
It’s a gorgeous Sunday afternoon. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and the fish are jumping. At least that’s what Cade said after spending the morning with Wyatt at the farm. I ran into him and Oaklee at the grocery store, grabbing their food for the week.
My truck is loaded with groceries, as it usually is at some point on the final day of the weekend. It’s always busy there, but it’s been my habit of shopping on Sunday since I left home at eighteen and moved in with Camden.
I’m driving through downtown, heading for home, when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. I glance over to see Charli enter the salon; her SUV parked in front. I’m not sure why I do it, but I whip a U-turn in the middle of the street and park behind her vehicle.
Just as I’m climbing out, I see her trying to get through the front entrance carrying an overflowing laundry bag. She’s struggling to move it through the doorway without dropping what’s in her hands, so I quickly jump out of my truck and run toward her.
“Here, let me help,” I say as I reach her side.
She startles and drops the bag, sending blankets and sheets onto the sidewalk. “Dammit, Quinn,” she grumbles, reaching down to collect the items.
“I said I’d help.”
“I’ve got it,” she insists with a little extra venom. With a huff, she lifts the bag and starts coughing. She turns her head and almost buries her face in the dirty bedding. It’s as if she realizes what she’s doing and drops the bag to cover her mouth with her arm.
Waiting her out, I make sure she’s not going to drop from lack of oxygen before scooping up the bedding and grabbing the bag.
“I said I’ve got it,” she bellows, her eyes narrowing as her claws come out.
Oh, goodie. Spicy Charli is here.
“You do, but why push yourself when I’m here and can just help?”
She rolls her eyes and practically elbows me out of the way. “I don’t need you.”
Realizing she’s going to hurt herself if I don’t step back, I do just that and watch as she struggles getting the overflowing laundry bag into the back of her SUV.
I don’t comment on how ridiculous she looks or how much easier it would have been if she would have just let me do it, even though I want to do both.
Instead, I wait until we get back inside. This way, she doesn’t knee me in the balls in front of onlookers.
“You’re still here?” she hollers over her shoulder when I step inside the salon, hot on her heels.
“I am.”
“But why?” she asks, disappearing into her studio without waiting for my reply.
I follow behind her, hands on my hips as I fill the doorway. “Because there’s no reason for you to do all this yourself.”
She spins around. “Why? Because I’m a woman?”
“For Christ’s sake, Charli,” I grumble, rubbing my forehead. “Because you’re sick, not because you’re a woman.”
She rolls her eyes and stuffs a few more items into a bag. “I’m not sick. I’m better.”
Cough.
“Yeah, you sound like it.”
She spins back around, trying to ignore me.
Leaning against the doorframe, I continue to watch her.
My pants start to grow a little tight as she bends over and makes a few adjustments on her table.
I’m pretty sure she’s not actually doing anything but making herself seem busy so she doesn’t have to talk to me.
“What else do you need to take out?”
“Nothing,” she sings, keeping her back to me as she goes to her small table and perfectly aligns the waterfall feature in the center and straightens the bottles of oils and lotions on the shelf.
“You’re unbelievable,” I mutter, shaking my head.
Turning to face me, she crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. This is the Charli I know and love. The feisty one who doesn’t take shit from anyone. She’s blunt, opinionated, and sassy as hell. And do you know what? It turns me on something fierce.
“You’re just mad I wouldn’t let you exert your manliness and carry the laundry to my car,” she states, practically tapping her foot on the floor. Apparently, Miss Charlotte Miller is gunning for a fight.
“I don’t care about being manly, Charli, and you know it. I was trying to help you.”
“And, again…I don’t need your help.”
“So you keep saying, but when will you get that having someone help you isn’t a bad thing? It can be pretty nice to have someone share the load every now and again.”
She huffs and looks down. “And how would you know?”
I lift my shoulder and push off the doorjamb and head toward her.
I catch a whiff of something sweet and fruity, my fingers itching to dive into the soft hair pulled back at the nape of her neck.
“Well, I might not know personally, but I can’t imagine having someone share the load every now and again is a bad thing. ”
Her eyes are fire, the darkest sapphire orbs burning brightly beneath the soft lighting.
She turns away from me, placing a hand on the table.
I step closer, worried something’s wrong.
Maybe she’s overdone it carrying the dirty bedding and straightening up her studio.
She should probably be home, resting still, but the woman is so damn stubborn, she never listens to reason.
Especially from me.
“All I want to do is help, Charli,” I say softly. I almost reach out and place my hand on her back, but I need both of them to work, and I’m certain she’d break it. Maybe a few fingers. “Why is it so hard for you to accept that?”
Her shoulders sag for the briefest moment before all hell breaks loose.
Charli spins around, her eyes pools of desire. She’s breathing hard, my vision drawn to the sight of her sharp intakes and exhales of breath causing her chest to rise and fall rapidly. I’m ready to back up, to apologize for pushing her when she’s still not well and clearly needs space.
But…she moves.
No, she practically leaps.
Her arms wrap around my neck and her chest slams into mine. I stumble back but quickly right myself so I don’t fall, and all of that is lost the moment her mouth presses firmly to mine.
Charli is kissing me.
Holy shit, she’s kissing me.
What’s a man to do but kiss her back, right?
I coax her mouth open with my lips and let my tongue delve deep into her mouth, sliding along her tongue and driving me absolutely wild. My hands move to her backside, lifting her up and trying to bring her even closer. Her legs wrap around my waist, her pussy grinding against my aching cock.
I can’t tell if this is real or not. I mean, on any given day, Charli Miller would not have jumped me, let alone let me rock my cock into the apex of her legs while she moans in pleasure. So, if this is a dream, don’t you dare wake me up, because I’m going to live in this moment as long as I can.
She rips her mouth from mine and licks my neck.
Licks my fucking neck like a damn Push Pop. A deep groan spills from my own mouth, rooted in years of pent-up desire I’ve felt for this woman.
“Am I dreaming?” I whisper, my eyes closed as she nips my ear, sending a shudder through my body.
“No, but you are talking,” she grumbles, straightening her legs until she’s standing in front of me once more.
I’m about to step back, even though I’m not sure I have the strength to do it, but Charli has other ideas. She grabs my T-shirt and rips it up, exposing my abdomen. Her short nails score my flesh, causing goosebumps to coat my skin.
“Since you want to help me so much, and since all you want to do is push my buttons, I have…an idea.”
My interest is definitely piqued, especially with her hands on me. “I’m listening.”
“Orgasms.”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Blood swooshes in my ears, and my heart is about to erupt from my chest. “Am I having a stroke?”
She rolls her eyes and lifts my shirt up and over my head, tossing it on the floor. “Not yet.”
My cock throbs in my jeans, hard and more than ready to get to the orgasms she was referring to. But, first, I need something… “You’re gonna have to spell this out for me, Charli.”
“You failed the sex chapter in health class, Quinn?” she sasses, dancing her fingers up my abs.
“A plus, baby,” I tell her, wedging my leg between her knees. “What I mean is, you need to be very clear on what you want. I refuse to guess.”
She rolls her eyes. “You talk too much, you know that?”
When I just pin her with a stare, letting her know I’m waiting, she huffs out a deep breath and reaches down to cup my balls. Holding my gaze, she says six words I’ve dreamed of her speaking for longer than any one man should admit. “I want you to fuck me.”
To punctuate her statement, she grabs at my belt and releases it. Then, she unfastens the button on my jeans and lowers the fly. The head of my cock is there, hard and seeping precum, and when she slides her finger across the head of it, I almost blow my load.
“Now, Quinn,” she whispers, her words both a plea and a promise.
I move before my brain can even catch up.
I have her shirt up and over her head, revealing a light pink bra.
It’s not made for seduction, but my God, I’ve never seen anything sexier in my life.
Her nipples are hard, and as I brush the pad of my thumb over the first nub, I watch as her entire body shivers.
She reaches into my snug pants and strokes me through my underwear. Any plan and idea I had about taking this slow and savoring my time with her flies right out the proverbial window. Charli isn’t looking for anything other than fast and wild, and she’s in the driver’s seat here.
My pants are pushed over my hips and ass, and the second she has them down enough to get to my dick, she does. Her hands dive into my underwear, her warm hand wrapping around my cock and stroking.
I groan, my hips thrusting forward as I reach behind her back and release her bra. When it falls forward, exposing two perfect tits, my mouth waters for a taste. I’ve been dreaming of this moment, and even though she’s chasing the end game here, I’m not about to let this opportunity pass me by.