Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
Charli
Round two?
Hell yes!
But despite the fact I’m more than ready for another orgasm under the expert hand—and dick—of Quinn Garrison, the red light is flashing.
Danger ahead.
Do not proceed.
I could easily become addicted to this man.
Just one taste of sex with him is enough to make me want more, to ignore every warning I have where he’s concerned.
And dammit, there are a lot of warnings.
Not to mention the fact he’s practically part of the family—thank goodness he isn’t—with his deeply rooted friendship with my brother, but there’s the fact he’s five years younger.
Yeah, but let’s talk about that stamina.
He’s still hard, Charli.
Like Thor’s hammer hard.
Not to mention the fact he’s big. I’m never one to compare men’s dick sizes, but in this case, I think it’s only fair.
Quinn makes Richard look like he’d be the guy standing in the corner, still clothed and pretending to be a cameraman in the porn.
No way would the producers put him on screen.
Not only is he half the size, but he has no clue how to use it.
Now, Quinn on the other hand…
“No.”
“No what?” he asks, making me realize I said that aloud.
“Nothing,” I reply, refusing to confess the thoughts running through my brain.
I push Quinn back, dislodging his cock from my body. I can feel the gush, hear the sound of it splattering on the floor.
He moves out of my way, watching me intently, but I don’t make eye contact. I can feel the judgment rolling off him. Or maybe that’s just my guilty conscious talking. “Everything okay?” he asks hesitantly.
“Yep. Great.” I hop off the table and start searching for my clothes.
Quinn doesn’t say a word, but I can feel his eyes on me as I dress. Normally, I’d clean up a bit more and use the restroom, but now isn’t the time. I need him to leave. Why? Because all I can think about is doing it again, and this was just a one-time deal.
Scratching an itch and all that…
By the time I’ve stalled enough in dressing and turn to face him, I find Quinn leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest. He’s completely dressed, which probably didn’t take long considering he only had to pull his pants up and find his T-shirt.
I’m sure he could use some time in a restroom, cleaning up, but I’m not offering it.
“Well, uh…thanks.”
His eyebrows shoot up as a smug little grin spreads across his kissable lips. “Uh…you’re welcome.”
I roll my eyes and move to my cabinet behind the door to grab some cleaning products.
That’s when I realize the door itself is still standing open.
I can’t believe I just had sex with Quinn on my massage table, and not only that, but I did it with my studio door standing wide open.
If Jenn or Lila stopped by to grab something, they would have gotten more than they bargained for.
Thankfully it’s not in direct view of the front windows either.
That would really give the old biddies something to pray about at church next Sunday.
“Let me,” Quinn says, pushing off the doorjamb and grabbing the cleaner.
“I got it,” I insist, ripping the cleaning wipes out of his hand.
He sighs and crouches down on the floor. “It’s my cum all over the place, at least let me get the majority of it,” he grumbles, snatching the wipes out of my hand when I’m not expecting it.
I exhale deeply before spinning around and retrieving the small garbage can in the corner of the room.
He wipes up the mess, tossing the used wipes in the trash, while I take a few fresh wipes and clean the table well.
The last thing I want is to leave my ass print and pecker tracks where I do business five days a week.
“I think that’s good,” I state, tossing the wipes in the trash and turning to face Quinn.
He’s standing behind me and nods when our gazes lock. I refuse to look away, even though I’m tempted to do so. The intensity in his eyes makes me want to squirm. “What now?”
Lifting my chin, I reply, “Now I go home so I can do laundry.”
He crosses his arms, and my vision is drawn to the way his shirt pulls tautly across his chest. “And this was just…”
“Fun. Release. A one-time thing.”
“And when I see you next time, I’m not supposed to think about the way you came on my cock?” he asks, not an ounce of hurt or confusion in his question.
I swallow hard, already knowing I’m going to be replaying our little tryst every night until I’m old and senile and finally forget the dirty details.
“What you think about is on you,” I state, stepping around him and flipping off the light for the studio.
When he follows me out, I lock the door and pull it firmly closed.
Turning to face him once more, I square my shoulders and add, “This was just two people who needed—”
“An orgasm,” he states, interrupting me.
I nod. “Yes. An Orgasm. Now that it’s done, that’s it. It was a one-time deal.”
“Hit it and quit it?” he asks, fighting a grin.
“Exactly. A hump and dump.”
This time he laughs, and holy shit, I feel the vibrations all the way down to my clit. It starts to throb, ready for a little more attention. But I ignore that needy bitch, because taking off my pants and demanding a repeat is not going to happen.
Ever.
“Well, I’m not going to argue with you, Charli. I knew what this was before you had your hands down my pants.”
I swallow hard and nod a little too stiffly. “Yeah, just…a friend helping another friend.”
He grins a carefree little smirk that makes him look so much older than I give him credit for. Quinn may be younger than me by five years, but he’s all man. He proved it in my studio not fifteen minutes ago.
“I’m, uh, glad we’re on the same page,” I state, picking at an invisible piece of fuzz on my shirt. “And let’s just keep this between us.” I look up in time to see his eyebrow arch. “I just don’t think we need to be sharing this. With…you know.”
My brother.
“Just between you and me. Got it.”
I’m glad we’re on the same page but hearing him actually say the words feels…
heavy. I mean, I don’t want to run and tell everyone what just happened, but when you have great sex, I feel you should be able to tell your people, you know?
If I’m being honest, I’m calling Sommer as soon as we leave here.
I’ll keep it from Lizzie and Oaklee, but only because I’d never want to put them in an awkward position of keeping something from my brothers.
And this is something I’d want them to keep from them.
Rocking back on my heels, the awkwardness settles around us, and I know it’s on me to get through it.
I move to the front entrance, making sure I have everything off in the salon before stepping outside.
Quinn follows me, and I secure the building.
I suck in a greedy breath, only to start coughing once more.
I’ve been doing so well today, only coughing a few times and mostly when the mucus catches in my throat.
“Go home and rest, Charli.”
I look over at Quinn and only find concern in his eyes. “I will.”
“Do you want me to follow you and carry the bedding inside?”
“No.” As tempting as it might be to lean on someone for a minute, it seems unnecessary for him to make the trip to my place, just to carry in some laundry. I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself, and maybe I just need to make more trips so it’s not so heavy.
He nods, though he does look like he wants to argue. “Oh. Wait.” Quinn heads for his truck, which is parked behind my SUV, hatch still up from when I put the dirty bedding inside. Man, it’s a good thing we live in a small, fairly safe town, because I pretty much just left everything wide open.
While Quinn roots around in the back seat of his truck, my eyes drop down to his ass. His perfect, round, hard ass, and then memories assault my brain all over again as I replay what we just did inside.
Before I realize what’s happening, Quinn turns around. My eyes are still cast downward, so when they finally return to his face, it’s clear he caught me checking him out. The smirk confirms it.
“Here.” He holds out a bag with weight to it. “I wasn’t sure if you had time to go get more or if you even needed it, but I was gonna drop it off on my way home.”
I already know what’s in the bag without looking.
Grape Gatorade.
“Thanks,” I reply, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed by his continual thoughtfulness and desperate for a little distance.
He turns and closes his truck door, and that’s when I realize he’s got a back seat full of groceries. “Shit, your groceries.”
He shrugs and steps off the curb to head for the driver’s side. “It’s fine, Charli.”
“Yeah, but they might be ruined,” I state, mentally doing the math on how long we were inside. Anything frozen is probably well on its way to defrosting, and I’d be a little concerned for refrigerated items.
Before he disappears around his truck, he glances over his shoulder and offers me a panty-melting grin. “Worth it.” Then, with a wink, he adds, “Have a good afternoon, Charli.”
Just before he climbs into the cab of his truck, I hear him whistle.
Whistle!
And instead of being irked to the fact he’s being aloof—exactly as I asked him to be, I might add—all I can think about is his lips and the vibrations his happy little whistle is creating.
My core throbs.
Stupid man.
No, that’s not entirely accurate.
Stupid woman.
“I did something bad,” I whisper the moment Sommer answers my call.
“Do I need bail money or a shovel and tarp?”
Her words catch me off guard. “What? You’d do that?”
“Bail you out, or help you bury the body? Well, the answer is yes to both. You’re my bestie. That’s what we do.”
I can’t help but smile. “I’d do the same for you, you know.”
“Oh, I do,” she states. “No one fucks with my friend. Now, what’s this bad thing you did? I need to mentally prepare myself for the level of lying I’m going to have to do.”
Memories. Oh, they’re parading through my mind, all happy and colorful like the Thanksgiving Day parade I always watch on TV.