Chapter 6
Quill
“First of all, they’re not ugly.”
I groan and roll my eyes.
I’m back to wanting to stuff her pretty mouth with my cock, but that is definitely not something I will ever voice again. It sounded so… angry when I said it this morning. So cruel. And when I saw the way she reacted, the way she… apologized, I wanted to kneel at her feet and beg her forgiveness.
In my defense, I was still reeling from everything that had happened yesterday, culminating in the way she cried herself to sleep while I lay on the ground beside her, helpless.
Guilt is not something I’m used to feeling.
In fact I don’t think I’ve felt it since Mom abandoned me. I guess it’s been taking a toll on me.
But when I’m making her come, I can squint my eyes and almost believe we’re still in high school, and the shittiness of these past few years never happened.
“Do it,” I say impatiently. “Pull down your pants and touch yourself. And show me. I want to see.”
“That’s a whole lot of demands,” she taunts me. “Anyway, I’m feeling bloated from all the fries you made me eat.”
“I don’t care. Do it.”
My voice is sounding a little too needy, but luckily, she gives in at last. She wriggles herself out of her panties and jeans then angles herself at me, blushing furiously, as though I don’t know every inch of her body by heart.
“Open your legs.”
“Quill!” she giggles.
“Come on. Open them.”
I’m past pretending this is all in good fun. What happened before only made me hungrier. I could spend every second of every day between her thighs and it still wouldn’t be enough. I need her so much it makes my skin ache.
“Please, Piper,” I beg.
“Fine,” she sighs.
Closing her eyes in embarrassment, she stretches her legs, letting me see how wet she is. I really want to touch her right now, but I do need to focus on the road.
“Satisfied?” she says, looking like she’s about to squeeze her thighs shut.
Not even close.
“Open your pussy lips.”
“What?!”
“I mean it. Stretch your pussy lips with your fingers. I want to see what’s inside.”
“Oh, my gosh, Quill,” she groans, but she does what I say. Her face has never been so red and splotchy before, and I can’t tell if I want to kiss it or the glistening pussy she’s now showing me every inch of.
“Fuck yourself with your fingers,” I breathe, and this time, she doesn’t resist.
She moans low as she pushes two fingers inside her, and then she starts to drive them in and out, moving against them.
“Touch your clit.”
She’s only too happy to obey, moaning even louder as her thumb begins to massage her clit. All too soon, she’s bucking, in the throes of an orgasm.
“How was that?” I breathe, really wishing I could lick the arousal still dripping down her thigh.
“Not enough,” she groans. “Not nearly enough.”
Fuck. We’re way behind Logan’s schedule, what with her giving me a blowjob in the bathroom before she rode my hand while eating her burger. But I’ve just got to have her. Now.
At the next exit, I swerve off the highway and into a deserted cul-de-sac. She looks around nervously.
“Is this on the schedule?”
“Get out.”
I unbuckle her seatbelt and pull her out of the car, before pushing her stomach over the closed trunk.
“Quill! I’m half-naked!”
“Good.”
I open her thighs and with a loud grunt, I sink my cock into her pussy.
Fuck. Me.
I don’t think I could have waited a second longer. I pound out all the day’s frustration into her, crushing her against the car, smacking her already-sore ass hard in rhythm.
“Quill!” she chokes out. “Someone will see us!”
“You want me to stop?” I growl.
She bites her lip, looking just as annoyed as yesterday, when I asked her permission.
Only this time, I’m not asking.
“You can struggle. You can try to escape,” I hiss, driving into her hard. “You can tell me to stop. But you can’t do a thing to make me. There’s nothing you can do except take it, for however long I’ve decided you’re going to take it.”
Every word I say is accompanied by a vicious thrust, while I wrap a hand around her neck and squeeze.
“Do you feel how helpless you are?” I rumble in her ear, my hand pressing against her pulse. “Do you?”
She nods, her pussy gripping desperately at my cock. “Fuck, Quill… fuck… I’m going to come!”
She speaks the words in a shriek as she tenses and shudders around me. Moments later I’m falling against her, my cum filling her. I hold her to me, breathing heavily, as she whimpers into the metal of the car.
I keep her trapped under me for far too long, unwilling to let her go again. Unwilling to go back to the tense painful awkwardness that will inevitably return at some point.
The only time things feel normal between us is when my cock is in her pussy. And I’m definitely going to need some time to recuperate after this round.
Sighing, I stand up at last, giving her one last smack on her ass, which causes her to whimper. “I hope we’re there soon,” she grumbles as she hobbles back to the car. “You hit hard.”
“I can hit harder,” I smirk, sliding back into the driver’s seat.
But even when we fuck, it doesn’t feel completely normal. Because she won’t let me kiss her.
Well, here we go. The tense painful awkwardness is back as I turn my eyes to the road, wondering if she’ll ever let me kiss her again. Meanwhile, she’s soon lost in her own thoughts, staring out the window.
She’s the first one to break the silence.
“You never did tell me.”
“Hmm?”
She hesitates, chewing on the lip that belongs to me. Or should.
“I guess I assume a lot,” she hesitates. “But you never actually told me. Or did you?”
I grind my teeth in annoyance, wondering if she’s really that incapable of finishing a sentence, or if she’s trying to bait me. “Did I what?”
“Did you tell me?”
She looks very uncomfortable, and it’s not just from her ass which is, as is often the case, not making much contact with her seat. No, she’s not trying to bait me. She’s trying to say something that doesn’t come easily to her.
I press her hand reassuringly.
“Take your time.”
“You’re going to get angry at me.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
“You don’t…” She hesitates. “You don’t always follow through on your promises.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. She knows what that accusation does. She knows how important promises are to me. She may not know why I once made the oath that I would never break a promise, however long I lived. But she knows I made it.
I didn’t realize I was the one to break my promise when I told her I never wanted to see her again. I thought she’d betrayed me. But now, it’s like devastation is piling on devastation. Realizing suddenly that I broke the promise I made to myself when I was six is killing me.
“I will this time,” I manage to tell her.
She takes a few deep breaths. “Maybe Logan was right. Maybe I’m not the best detective. Do you think I am?”
“Uh.” I’m not sure what to say to that, but she doesn’t seem to be expecting an answer.
She continues, “A real detective would wait for proof. Wouldn’t he?”
“I guess so. Why?”
“Well…” She swallows with difficulty. “I guess I didn’t have any proof you killed my parents. I kind of just… assumed. And then when I saw your reaction, I assumed the opposite. Basically, just a whole lot of assumptions, I guess.”
She withdraws her hand from mine and fists it into a nervous ball in her lap.
“Piper,” I breathe, but she’s back to staring out the window. “Would it help if I told you the truth?”
“Depends on what the truth is, I guess,” she squeaks out in a strangled sort of voice.
“You assume right. I didn’t kill your parents.”
“I know that, of course,” she says nervously, her hands jittery in her lap.
“From what I’ve gathered, it was a soldier contract,” I add, trying to keep my eyes on the road all while studying her reaction in my peripheral vision. “But I had nothing to do with it. I wasn’t even aware of the contract until after it happened. I guess you assumed all that too.”
She nods hurriedly.
“Does that reassure you?”
“Yes. No. I mean…” She blushes painfully, wringing her hands. “I knew all that. I knew you didn’t kill my parents.”
I frown in confusion. “Okay, so…”
“I think,” she breathes, “I was trying to warm up to… to the other thing.”
“Oh.”
I turn my attention fully back to the road, suddenly realizing she’s referring to the rape. This is the moment she’s chosen for confiding in me about it.
And it’s the worst fucking moment. Because I’m not ready.
There’s a long silence during which my stomach feels like it’s slowly turning into solid lead. “Piper,” I say at last. “I don’t… I don’t think we should talk about that right now.”
She looks up at me in surprise. “You… don’t?”
“It’s not a good time for me,” I try to explain, and at once want to punch myself in the face.
Not a good time for me? What the fuck is wrong with me?
So much is wrong. So much. She has no idea.
If she wasn’t angry before, those words will definitely make her furious. I can’t believe I’m such a fucking idiot. Surely there must have been a better way to put that.
It’s not a good time for me, Piper, unless you want me to murder every person we cross paths with today.
Please don’t talk to me about what happened, Piper, or I might just blow myself up at a busy intersection.
Maybe some other time, Piper. Some other time when I can actually find the fuckers who hurt you and skin them alive, instead of taking out all my anger on innocent bystanders.
I don’t want to scare her. But if I hear it from her, I definitely will.
I know she’ll have to tell me about it eventually. But I can’t go into it unprepared. I’ll need to spend some time steeling myself for it first. I’ll need to make sure Liam and Dane are already bound in some basement somewhere, so I can start the torture right after.
There’s probably a better way to tell her all that other than It’s not a good time for me, but if there is, I can’t think of one.
I glance at her, but she’s back to staring out the window, her arms wound tightly around her.
“Piper,” I try again. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”
She nods abruptly.
“Please don’t be angry at me, cricket.”
She’s shaking her head now, just as abruptly and just as fast.
“You’re angry at me, aren’t you?” I guess.
“No,” she whispers. “Sorry.”
That word again. Why the fuck does she keep doing that?
If she really isn’t angry at me, then whatever she’s feeling must be a whole lot worse.
I don’t think I’m selfish for trying to avoid a subject that would have me go absolutely ballistic, because the truth is I’m trying to protect her from my reaction. But I can see that that explanation won’t cut it for her. I need to be strong for her, and be the person she can talk to.
She deserves that, and I will do whatever I have to to become the person she deserves.
I take a few very long, very ragged breaths to steel myself for what will be probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
Not following through on the urge to burn down the world.
My childhood urge to kill her has nothing on this.
“Go on,” I say at last. “Tell me.”
If she wasn’t angry before, she definitely is now. She shakes her head furiously, and I realize I might have made my words sound a little too much like all of this is a chore to me.
But the strength I’ve managed to muster up is not going to last indefinitely.
“What have you been assuming that you need confirmation on?” I insist, and then it suddenly hits me.
I don’t need her to tell me. I know exactly what she’s thinking.
And it’s going to be really fucking hard not to burn down the world right now.
Because her words just before I shot at the wall come back to me with aching precision.
You told them to do it!
I swerve violently, nearly hitting a truck before coming to a screeching standstill on the side of the road.
Then, as Piper screams, I unbuckle my seatbelt, launch myself out of the car, and throw up on the grass that borders the road.
I don’t stop until I’m dry heaving, my body hunched over the grass, the words beating into my head like a migraine.
You told them to do it. You told them to do it. You told them to do it!