Chapter 33
Teagan
I practically sprint out of the car as soon as Quentin parks it, needing to get away from him before I do something to fuck up what we have going on.
The entire car ride, I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said.
A shiver rolls through me at the memory of Quentin saying “Keep your fucking hands off the mother of my child.”
I don’t think I’ve ever heard a single sentence that turned me on as much as that did. From the actual words themselves to the protectiveness in which they were laced in, it did things to my hormones. AKA, it’s made me horny as hell.
On top of the extra horniness I’ve been feeling the past few days, I’m basically about to climb this guy like a tree if I don’t get away.
I enter the code, unlocking the front door with Quentin hot on my heels.
“Hey,” he says softly as he closes the door behind us and flicks the lock.
Not stopping, I continue walking toward the staircase, ready to shower and get into bed for the night. With my vibrator as my plus-one.
His large hand wraps around mine, making me stop to turn and face him. “What’s wrong?”
My chest heaves up and down as I’m sexually and mentally frustrated.
“I’m annoyed with how Ian is reacting. That’s all.” I shake out of his grasp and walk up the stairs. “I just want to be alone.”
“I didn’t know he was there. I just…” He blows out a breath. “I saw that guy’s hands on you and I lost it.”
I stop with my hand on the railing, looking at him over my shoulder. There’s something so raw about his voice that it has me rooted to the spot.
“It’s okay, honestly. It had to happen sometime. We ripped the Band-Aid off, and now we’ll wait to see how it heals.”
“Okay,” he says gently as he takes steps toward me until he’s on the landing and we’re now eye to eye. “If you’re okay with what happened, then what’s got you all out of sorts?”
He reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, making me shiver.
“Is it too cold in here? I can turn the AC down.”
“No, it’s not that,” I stammer. “I’m just really tired and it was a long day.”
“Okay,” he says, throat bobbing as his eyes dip to my lips, then back up to my eyes.
“Okay,” I repeat, my voice low.
We stare at one another, filling the space between us with tension so thick that we could drown in it. My eyes dip to his lips, and fuck, I want to kiss him. Quentin notices, his lips parting as he takes the next step closer to me.
“Good night.” I let out on a shaky breath, turning and hurrying up the stairs, right to my room.
I slump against my closed door, feeling as if I performed an entire floor routine with how fast my heart is beating. Why do I keep doing this? Putting myself in situations where I find myself a breath away from a choice that would potentially change everything between us.
The scary part is that I wouldn’t have cared if he had grabbed me and pressed his lips to mine.
I walk into my bathroom, turning the shower on, hoping it will help soothe the ache between my legs.
But as I wash my body, my hands roaming over my breasts, it only makes the ache more intense. One of my hands travels from my breast, down my hips, over the mound of my pussy.
I can’t help myself and rub my clit, desperate to relieve myself. But it’s not enough, so I step out of the shower and dry my feet on the mat, wrapping a towel around me. I go to my nightstand and open the bottom compartment to retrieve my waterproof vibrator.
Hanging the towel back up, I step under the spray of water and waste no time, sit on the bench in the walk-in shower and spread my legs as I bring the vibrator to my clit.
The gasp I let out is louder than I want, so I bite down on my lip, trying to muffle the sounds I’m making.
I glide the vibrator down my slit, my body rocking against it, trying to get any ounce of pleasure possible. While it’s something, it’s not enough.
Using the vibrator, I bring it back up to my clit and press harder as my free hand toys with my extra sensitive nipples. A moan breaks free from my lips as I close my eyes, lost to the ache in my core.
“Teagan, are you okay?” I hear Quentin’s worried voice, making my eyes fly open just as he enters my bathroom, our eyes locking.
For a second, we just stare at one another, shock and desire mixed in his gaze, me with my hand paused, vibrator still on.
“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, throwing a hand over his eyes. “I was worried about you and I called your name a few times, but you didn’t respond. I’ll go.”
He moves to leave the room when I blurt, “Stay.”
This goes against everything we’ve said we won’t do, but I can’t hold myself back any longer. I need him, plain and simple.
Although the aftermath may make things very not simple, it’s a problem for another moment in time.
I know I’m playing with fire here, but I really just want him to touch me.
Quentin pauses, his head falling back as he closes his eyes. “Teagan,” he says, his voice pleading. Whether it’s for me to stop or continue, I don’t know.
“Yes, sir?”
His head snaps up, his eyes instantly on me, a hungry desire in them.
“You said we can’t do this.”
I run my fingers through my slit and let out a soft whine. It has the intended effect when his gaze drops to my pussy, his mouth parting at the sight. “I’m just so horny I feel like I could die, and this vibrator isn’t cutting it. I need help. Human help.”
“The vibrator should be fine.”
“If you can’t help me, I’m sure I could find someone who would…” I trail off, taunting him, and it works.
Quentin storms into the shower, clothes and all. He grips my chin, forcing me to look in his eyes as he says, “You need my help, no one else’s. Say it.”
Seeing him take charge might be the second hottest thing I’ve witnessed today.
“I need your help,” I practically pant, sounding pathetic and for once, I don’t even care.
“That’s right,” he grits. “I’m going to eat this pretty little pussy and then we’re going to act like this didn’t happen, okay?”
“Exactly what I wanted.”
Quentin drops to his knees, his eyes drifting down from my face to my breasts, to my stomach, and finally to my pussy.
His attention makes me squirm, needy for him to touch me and make me get rid of this ache that’s consuming me.
“Feet up on the bench and spread,” he instructs, and I do as I’m told, lifting my feet onto the bench, exposing myself fully to him.
Quentin leans forward, running his nose up and down my slit, making me gasp at the sensation of his breath on me.
“Goddammit, I’ve missed this pussy,” he groans before placing a wet kiss on my mound.
“It’s missed you.”
All I get for a response is a grunt right before he licks my slit in one long lick. My back bows, and he grips my hips to keep me steady.
His tongue meets my clit, flicking it rapidly, making my entire body feel like it’s on fire. Quentin eats me sensually, his mouth and tongue working my pussy like a song only he knows the words to, because no one has ever had me this turned on.
“You’re doing so well,” I praise him as I run my fingers through his hair.
He lifts his head, his beard dripping with my arousal, and the sight nearly puts me over the edge.
“Mmm, this cunt tastes so fucking sweet,” he says appreciatively, his eyes glazed with desire as he presses a kiss to my mound. He works his way down my slit until his tongue is back where I want it.
I then grip his wet strands as he sucks onto my clit, my moans echoing off the subway tile walls because I feel like I could combust on the spot.
A deeper, guttural moan follows mine, followed by a series of whimpers. Quentin’s eyes are closed as he devours me, fully enjoying this as much as me.
I’ve never had a man whimper while eating my pussy, and I’ve got to say it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.
It’s what brings me up to the peak and crashes over it as my orgasm finally hits. A scream erupts from my throat as my legs shake and I try to grip onto the bench for dear life because he doesn’t stop as my orgasm courses through me.
I yell his name and a series of curse words until my body finally relaxes, making it by far the longest orgasm I’ve ever had.
Once I feel him pull away, I open my eyes to see what he’s doing. I watch as he stands, running a hand through his hair as he says, “I, uh, should get going.”
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask, hoping this didn’t push him too far.
“Nothing. But I came in my pants, so I need to go shower,” he explains, no shame at all that he came in his pants from eating my pussy.
Why is that so hot?
“You’re soaking wet. Just shower in here. We’ve already seen each other naked. It’s no big deal,” I tell him, my tone calm despite the rapid beating of my heart.
I’m playing with fire, but I don’t think I can stop.
“If you’re okay with it, sure. Saves me from walking through the hallway dripping wet.” He smirks as he unbuttons his jeans, pulling them and his briefs down and off his legs as I just stare at his cock. No longer hard and it still looks massive.
God, I miss it.
“Stop staring at my cock before we get into any more trouble,” Quentin says, reading my mind.
“It is a beauty,” I tell him as I stand and join him under the water. “I need a shower too.”
I go to reach for my shampoo when Quentin takes it first.
“Uhh, ladies first?”
“Turn around,” he orders, and I comply with ease, oddly enough.
I feel the cool dollop of shampoo in my hair, followed by his large hands massaging the shampoo into it.
“You don’t need to—”
“I want to.”
I don’t respond because I can’t. Between the orgasm and his fingers in my hair, my body is in the most relaxed state in years.
It’s quiet as he shampoos my hair, then rinses and does the same with the conditioner. It should feel weird, being open and vulnerable in front of each other when we’re not romantically involved, but I don’t feel an ounce of shyness.
He hums contentedly as he rinses the conditioner, and once he’s finished, I turn to face him.
“Your turn, but you need to sit on the bench because you’re too tall.”
“It’s fine. I can wash my own hair,” he protests.
“And so could I, but it’s nice to let people take care of you sometimes, and you deserve that favor returned.”
He tongues his cheek as he stares down at me, giving his head a slight shake as he brushes past me to sit on the bench.
I grab the shampoo, squeeze it into my palms, and work it into a lather. Once my hands are covered, I run them through his hair, massaging his scalp.
His eyes remain open, watching me the entire time. Even though my breasts are right near his face, he doesn’t stray.
“It’s nice, huh?” I say as I rinse the shampoo out.
He nods, seeming lost for words as his throat bobs. I continue on, working the conditioner into his hair as I massage his scalp again.
He hums again, just as relaxed as I am, and puts his hand on my belly.
I pause for a moment and he notices.
“Is this okay?”
“Of course.”
He leans forward and presses a kiss there, lingering for a beat before pulling away. As I rinse his conditioner out, his hands are roaming up down and across my stomach gently.
My heart hammers in my chest at the affection, at how much he already loves this baby.
“You’re going to be a good dad,” I tell him, running my fingers through his strands.
“And you’re going to be the best mother.”
I know it’s going to be hard, but this is something I’m confident I’ll be good at because all I need to do is give this baby everything I wanted from my own mom, and then some.
And I will never let my child go through what I went through.
“Thank you. We’re like the dream team.” I chuckle softly.
“I like it.” He smiles up at me, hazel eyes crinkling in the corners. “I’m going to recommend we wash our own bodies, though, because, Teagan, if I get my hands on you again, I’m not going to be able to control myself again.”
His words stun me because now all I want to do is see this man unrestrained for me.
“Okay,” is all I manage to say as we turn back to back and wash our bodies in peace and quiet.
I figure he’ll go his own way once we’re drying off with towels, but he doesn’t.
He helps me slip into an oversized T-shirt and panties, my form of pajamas. While I do my skincare, he leaves, and I think he’s gone for the night until he returns with ice-cold water and a cookie on a plate that he made today, leaving it on my nightstand.
Instead of telling him that he didn’t need to do that, I simply say, “Thank you. For everything.”
He smirks, looking like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Not a problem at all to help with that.”
“I would say I’d ask you if I need help again…but it was a one-time thing,” I trail off, folding my hands together behind my back.
“A one-time thing,” he repeats.
“Agreed.” I smile faintly, feeling less content than I did a few minutes ago at the reminder.
“I’ll be leaving in the morning to go on the road for two weeks,” he says, adding to my declining mood.
Where I once was happy at the idea of barely running into each other while home, the idea of him being gone for so long makes me sad.
He’s become a part of my routine. Whenever we’re not working, we spend all of our time together.
I’ve come to enjoy his company, and he’s made me realize something I didn’t know I’d been missing.
“Good luck. For the games and dealing with my brother.”
He grins. “I’ll do my best, at both.” His grin quickly fades, his face transforming into a look of concern. “If you need anything, call me. But if you need something urgently, Camille stays behind for away games, so don’t hesitate to reach out to her.”
“Don’t worry, Blueberry and I will be just fine,” I assure him, my tone confident despite my surprising sadness over him leaving for so long. “You take care of us so much that we’ll be content for the next two weeks.”
Quentin chuckles softly at that. “All right. Good night, and see you soon.”
“Yeah, good night,” I reply.
When I get into bed, there are two things I know for certain.
One is that I’m still wildly attracted to the father of my baby.
Two is that I’m going to miss him.
And both are a problem.