CHAPTER THIRTEEN #2
Her eyes flare with powerful, all-consuming pleasure. My cock surges in response, demanding to claim her, and she clamps around my fingers greedily.
Eyes locked, I lick her clit fast and furiously. Suddenly she screams, head falling back on the sheets, and her pussy arches up into my mouth, taking everything I’m offering.
Licking wildly, I slam my fingers into her and watch with wonder as the powerful orgasm crashes through her. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
Her hair strewn across the pillow, eyelashes fluttering, her nipples piercing the fabric of her top. She’s all woman, and that’s something she often tries to hide. But she never has from me.
As the trembling slows, I remove my fingers and glide them into my mouth, drinking down the last of her.
Lowering her hips to the bed, I wipe my mouth on my shoulder and climb back over her as a couple of aftershocks have her shuddering.
Her cheeks are red, her eyes fluttering like a contented kitten.
“Are you still with me?”
Quinn’s arm loops around my neck and gently pulls me down to kiss her.
Fuck, there’s no turning back now. I hope she realizes that. I’m falling even harder for this woman. Quinn Parker is it for me. I’ve fallen hard, and there’s no exit plan.
She wants me.
She wants me the same way I want her. Completely and utterly. So how do I show her it’s possible? What will it take to make Quinn choose me despite everything else?
What can I do to be enough?
To be the most important thing in her world?
The familiar pang in my chest returns. Never in a million years would I have expected to feel rejection. I had no trouble getting a girlfriend or getting laid from the moment I learned the other use for my cock.
Until Quinn.
This damn gorgeous woman.
As I feel her lips against mine, I wonder if this is what my father felt for my mother. An all-encompassing love and need to protect and own her. I don’t delve too deeply into that for gross and obvious reasons, but she broke him, as Quinn could do to me.
Mom left.
She packed her bags and drove away one day when I was three. She never came back.
To this day, I don’t know why. Nor do I know what happened to her or if she’s still alive. I’ve never searched or wanted to know.
My father grew more and more bitter every year. He never dated. He never answered my questions about where Mom was or whether she was coming home. Eventually, his drinking became a problem.
“She loved you,” Dad would say after his fourth drink. “She loved me, too, son. But she couldn’t.”
The first few times, I saw this as a chance to get the answers I sought. So, I pushed him.
“Why not, Dad? Where is she?”
“Gone.” He’d glance into the distance. “Gone. Her soul is gone. She has no heart anymore, son.”
The hell?
“Is she in Texas?” I prompted. “Does she have our phone number?”
Maybe she was trying to find us and had lost the number. I’d lain awake many nights worried this might be the case.
“She isn’t coming back.” He shook his head and lifted the bottle to his mouth. “She’s never coming back.
“But you said she loves me!” I cried, all of about twelve and really wanting my mom.
I barely remembered her, but occasionally I’d recall her brushing her fingers through my short hair, her scent—or what I thought was her scent—and her smile. Maybe even her voice as she told me I was her sweet little boy.
Dad slammed the bottle down. “She’s a witch! She deserted us both. Forget her. We both need to forget her.”
How does a mother who loves their child just walk away and never come back for them? I could never reconcile that in my head or my heart. Watching my father fall more and more apart over the years was a way of disassociating my own pain and feeling of rejection.
Was this why I had fallen for Quinn?
Didn’t they say you repeat patterns from childhood or some such fucking thing?
If she wanted me, would I want Quinn quite as much?
I’d already made life-changing decisions for this woman. Leaving the military. While she’d never asked me to do it, I knew it would open the door to being with Quinn.
Until I knew it wouldn’t.
The military was my life, but I knew I’d never be a lifer like some. Leaving was always part of my long-term plan; I just wasn’t sure when or what I’d do. When BHS came knocking, and with Quinn as a motivator, the decision was easier than I’d expected.
Now here she is, in my arms, the scent of her orgasm on my lips and fingers.
I couldn’t let her bolt.
Not like I did the night of my leaving party.
I knew she’d need time, small steps, but I wasn’t prepared for how things ended.
I didn’t invite her to the leaving party at the local bar, but she walked in wearing blue jeans, a black halter and her hair up in a sleek, long pony.
My dick went instantly hard.
“Nothing stopping you now,” Johnny, an Army buddy, had said. “But you can stop lying about wanting her.”
Instead of answering, I watched Quinn walk to the bar, order a drink and then make her way over.
“So, last day, Commander.” Quinn took a swig of her beer.
“It’s just Noah now. Glad you came.” I pulled out a stool for her, even though I was standing.
“Thought I might ask for a ride home. For old times’ sakes.” Quinn climbed onto the stool, and I moved closer while my buddy snorted and left us alone.
“You might get lucky,” I teased, the bottle of my beer at my lips. “But just warning you, I don’t have my bike.”
Her cheeks blushed as she understood my intention. I grinned and took a long drink, and hope prompted me forward.
As the night went on, more drinks were consumed. We danced a few times. Then someone decided to toast me. The bar turned the music low and the few civilians around turned to listen in.
“Captain Jenkins. Where to begin,” Johnny slurred. “I can’t believe you’re fucking leaving.”
I shrugged, glancing at Quinn when I shouldn’t have, because anyone watching—which was the entire bar—could probably put two and two together.
I didn’t care.
She was mine, and together we would surf the tide of gossip and live happily ever after.
Quinn wouldn’t be there if she didn’t feel the same. Right?
Right?!
“We served in the Middle East together, brother; you snored the entire time and left your stinky damn boots in that same damn spot I’d always trip over.”
Untrue.
But I laughed anyway.
“We all had to wear eye masks because you used that stupid book light at night.”
“It’s called a reading light, dumbass,” I called out, laughing. “You should try reading a book sometime.”
Everyone cracked up.
“Too many women, so little time, my friend.” He sighed dramatically.
Johnny was a proud playboy and could never understand why I’d suddenly lost interest in joining in on his shenanigans. Although he soon figured out it was Quinn. I never confirmed it.
I never needed to.
“Way too young,” I would always say.
But he didn’t buy it.
“Raise your glasses, ladies and gentlemen, to my friend, Captain Noah Jenkins. May his career in the private sector flourish, his reading light go missing, and may he one day find the girl of his dreams.”
Johnny flicked Quinn a glance, and there was concern in his eyes.
Around me drinks were lifted, a round of to Noah and to the Captain sounded, while I wondered about the look I’d just seen cross his face. Shaking myself out of it, I lifted my glass, and we all drank.
When my gaze drifted over to Quinn, she was watching me intently, a shadow of her own in her eyes.
“Speech, speech, speech,” the crowd had chanted.
I could see her eyes darting around, panic setting in.
Shit.
I gave a short, boring speech, and as my pulse sped up, I watched her slip away. I couldn’t do a thing without making a scene.
Tyrell Brooks and a handful of her fellow GIs were at a nearby table and had wished me well earlier in the night. I spotted Brooks out of the corner of my eye when I went to the bar and ordered a glass of water. I was hoping Quinn had only snuck to the restroom.
“Looking for Quinn?” Tyrell asked, ripping some napkins out of the holder beside me.
“Nope.”
“Sure about that?”
“You after something, Tyrell?” Like a black eye, because now I can give you one for free.
He smirked. “She slipped out back.”
Fuck.
Whether she was trying to slip away from me or the spotlight of others, the back alleyway was not safe. Every protective instinct fired up.
I tossed back the water and headed directly to the back of the bar and strode along the hallway past the restrooms...where I almost slammed into her.
“Jesus, brick wall.” Quinn’s hands were on my pecs, and I wanted them to stay there.
Placing mine over hers, I felt the weight fall from my shoulders.
“I’ve been called worse,” I rasped. “You want to get out of here?”
“Not with...” Quinn dropped her eyes.
Not with me.
Her words had sliced through my heart and stung. I was no stranger to rejection, even by my own mother, and in some ways, my father. He’d emotionally checked out years ago.
“With me?” I glanced away.
“Noah.” Her hand slid up to my face, and my eyes snapped to hers, seeking her next words with the same need and intensity I did my next breath. “Noah...we would both regret it.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.” I cupped her face. “Come home with me. Nothing needs to happen. We can talk.”
“We won’t talk.”
She was right.