Chapter 25
I’ve got to give props to my uncle for his impeccable timing.
I’d just gotten home from the gym when I saw his warning text. Heads up, your girl took off here pretty pissed. You didn’t warn her about the bill?
Nah, of course I didn’t. Because if I had, she wouldn’t have accepted my help, and Blank Page would still be closed.
I have no regrets about meddling in order to get her business up and running quickly and without needing to rely on a company that might turn around and end up screwing her in the end.
This way, I know the work will get done properly. She’ll thank me eventually.
Or not. It doesn’t matter to me either way. Not as long as she’s taken care of.
Plus, my uncle owes me. For his birthday last year, I got all my buddies to go out to the bar with him and his baseball-fanatic employees for beers. He still holds the title of World’s Coolest Boss because of it, and I’m finally cashing in on his success.
In all honesty, though, he’d have done it either way, and I didn’t need him to return any sort of favour for that single night out.
Family is family—that’s what Dad has always said, and that extends far past just those in our household.
When you’re blood, you’re forever connected.
There are certain expectations that come with that relationship.
If you need help, you can ask for it and receive without a grumbled response or a quid pro quo.
I grew up with those beliefs and don’t plan on dropping them anytime soon.
My gut tells me that Quinn hasn’t had the same experiences with family as I have.
Not to the same extent, at least. She was obviously close to her grandmother and Callie, but her mom?
Dad? There’s a giant question mark there in her family history that I haven’t wanted to risk tugging at yet.
Prodded, yeah. But she shut me down quickly.
Anything more would have had her shutting down and taking off.
I tip my head back beneath the scalding shower water as I let my rigid muscles go lax.
My workout was brutal, and I lifted far more than I should have after pitching yesterday, but I couldn’t help myself.
It was the only way to work out the pent-up need inside of me that’s been lingering for days now.
As much as I love having Quinn here, I can’t deny that her closeness is an endless tease.
I want nothing more than to pounce on her every time I see her walking around in those tight spandex shorts she seems to have a million pairs of or the baggy shirts that continuously drape off her right shoulder.
She’d look so fucking pretty with a hickey on the soft skin of her collarbone.
I’d get glances of it every time she wore those shirts, and now that I’m thinking about it, that would be a disaster.
She’d get so annoyed with how often I’d be on her if that were the case.
Aaaaand my cock is hard again. I look down at it, ignoring the water running down my face and into my eyes.
Bracing a hand on the shower wall, I suck a breath in through my mouth, water filling it.
It won’t be long now until she’s back, steaming mad and ready to give me a piece of her mind.
A shiver travels up my spine despite the steam surrounding me.
A small bead of cum drips from my tip, running a hot line down the rigid shaft before I wrap my fingers around it and stroke. I squeeze my eyes shut and repeat the motion, squeezing tighter.
Fuck, she’s so hot when she’s mad. The tips of her ears get red before her cheeks do, like a warning of what’s to come.
And when her face grows the same shade, her tongue gets so sharp that the cuts are clean, painless.
At least to me. Her aggressive words never wound me deep enough to hurt.
They’re superficial because I can read through them.
When she’s defensive, it’s almost always because she doesn’t know how to accept a gesture or compliment. She doesn’t deny help because she doesn’t want it. The fight she puts up when I offer her support is because she’s not used to being taken care of, and I can work with all of that.
Having a woman like Quinn as a prize is worth everything.
“Fuck,” I spit, flinging my hair back when I toss my head and jerk myself.
My cock throbs in my hand, and despite already doing this in bed this morning, my balls are tight enough to hurt.
With my eyes closed, I see her so damn clearly.
The soft jaw, unique blue-gray eyes, plump, kissable lips.
Her perfect fucking body, with the round hips, ass that I could spend hours filling my palms with, and thighs meant to warm my ears.
I move my fist faster, choking out a low groan.
It would be so easy to strip her of her tight shorts and fall to my knees like a starving beast. I’d drape her thigh over my shoulder to open her wide and bury my face in her cunt.
I want to hear the sounds she makes when she feels pleasure.
They’d be loud and desperate because I wouldn’t stand for anything else.
I would beg if that’s what she wanted. Without a sliver of a doubt, I know I’d whine and beg and plead for the chance to taste her and make her come.
My ego would be checked the moment she gave me the go-ahead.
I wonder if she knows just how much power she has over me, and if she does, is she impressed?
My tongue glides across my wet lips, wishing it wasn’t water I’m tasting.
I’m too close already. I slow my strokes and pull my head from the water, needing to breathe properly before I go up in flames.
My biceps burn from the exertion, and I ignore the soreness as I run my thumb over the glossy head and spread the slickness down my shaft again, only for it to be washed away.
“Oh—Oh my God.”
I whip my head toward the panted, surprised voice.
Through the steamy glass door, I see her standing in the bathroom, her shoulders moving like she’s desperate to catch her breath.
My moan is instant, and I have to squeeze myself to the point of pain to keep from coming on the spot.
I suck my teeth and grit my jaw, trying to push the sensation away.
Fuck me. She’s so beautiful.
Her eyes are so wide, surprise and something else making them appear more grey than blue.
I throb in my tight grip when her throat bobs and those bee-stung lips press together, a bit wobbly.
The water continues to beat down on my chest, heat filling the bathroom until it rivals a sauna.
I don’t give myself a chance to change my mind about my next move.
Turning around, I press my back to the shower wall and hiss at the cold tiles against my searing skin. The move exposes my body completely, including where I’m now stroking myself again. Slow, so fucking slow it feels like torture, but I know if I go any faster, I’m going to spray all over myself.
I wipe my hand down the glass door so we can both see each other more clearly, and her gaze goes glassy. They don’t stay fixed in one spot but begin to wander. At first, she’s cautious, maybe too surprised by what she’s just stormed in on to realize what’s happened. It doesn’t last long.
My biceps flex when she looks at them, inspecting the muscles I’ve worked really fucking hard on.
They coil and bunch beneath her eyes until she moves on.
She spends a long, long time on my abs. All my skin is red from the heat of the water, yet it seems to grow a deeper shade of it as she examines me.
I’m a big guy. Maybe too big for my position on the Havoc.
Yet I haven’t stopped working out with the hope of shrinking.
I like towering over most of my teammates, and I enjoy lifting the most weight in the gym.
Yet, those accomplishments suddenly mean nothing.
They don’t come close to the satisfaction I feel when she releases a soft, needy little noise and pinches the hem of her shirt, pulling on it as she stares at my stomach and the V that leads to where I’m still boldly touching myself.
Finally, her eyes drop to watch.
The tips of her ears are blazing with a blush, but so is the rest of her. If she’s still angry with me, I can’t tell. I almost want her to be, though.
“You can watch, Quinny. I’m not shy.”
Her brows draw together, and she starts rolling the fabric of her shirt between her fingers.
I have to swipe at the shower door again, annoyed when the steam starts to hide her from me again.
The moment is too sacred to miss a second of.
I want to remember this for the rest of my life.
To revel in the way she’s looking at me like I’m the sexiest man alive.
Like all I am is hers, and she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to continue fighting the connection we have.
“I knew you’d come running over here, baby . . . so fucking mad at me. Yeah, exactly like that. With that fire in your eyes . . .” I trail off, vision blurring as she glares, finding herself again. “You look like you need to yell.”
Her voice is cracked, exposing more of her than I’ve ever seen before. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie.”
My fist is moving faster now, the sight of her like this undoing me. I have to lean against the side of the shower to avoid falling to my knees on the hard tile. I’m saving that for later.
She yanks her stare from my fist. “You didn’t tell the truth.”
“Guilty,” I pant, spreading my legs a bit to stabilize my balance.
Her eyes fall again to my cock again, lashes fluttering. “Are you really going to . . . You’re not going to stop?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Say no. Please.
“You look close.”
My eyes roll back into my head as I jerk my head in a nod. “Yeah, baby. I am.”
“If I asked you to stop, would you?” she asks, testing me.
“Yes.” I hiss the word. “But I’d try begging you not to make me.”
She bundles her hair up off her neck and drapes it over her shoulder, letting it cascade down her chest. My free hand forms a fist as I imagine wrapping it around my knuckles and hauling her into the shower with me.
“I don’t believe you’d beg.”
My laugh is almost all growl. “Try me.”
“Stop.”
The command jolts through me. My dick seems to grow stiffer, approving of her bossiness. I swallow my frustration and reluctantly still my movements. My balls turn to stone as I search her face for any sign of distress or regret. The only thing I find is pure, wicked desire.
“I thought you said you’d beg?”
A hot poker lances through my groin. I groan my words, too gone to try and make them easier to understand. “Please. Please let me come. Let me finish. I need . . . need to come, Quinn.”
Her eyes lose the blue entirely. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you decide to jerk off in the first place?”
My smile starts slowly before widening into a feral grin. “You know the answer to that already.”
“I wasn’t even here.”
“You didn’t need to be.” I exhale, squeezing my cock harder. “All I needed to know was that you were coming home ready to chew me out. I was hard instantly.”
She blinks slowly, digesting that. “Beg me again.”
“Please,” I beg instantly, precum smearing against my abs. “Tell me I can move my hand again. Please, gorgeous. I want to come for you.”
Her approval is nothing more than a slight tip of her head.
I jerk myself quickly, anxiously, needing to come now.
My sac draws up, and I drop my head to the wall with a painful slam.
I don’t let up. My pace is furious as she watches me stroke myself, dripping so much that not even the water can wash it away fast enough.
“Don’t look away,” I spit out, teetering on the edge of insanity.
She doesn’t. Her attention stays glued to my cock, and when I come, she moans alongside me, the only thing I can hear. I have no choice but to close my eyes as the power of the climax rips through me.
Cum splatters my abs and rains down on my fingers as I work myself through the intense orgasm, making so much noise I’d be embarrassed any other day. My thighs ache from how tightly I’ve been clenching them. I relax slowly, squeezing my shaft until I’m running dry.
It’s not until I open my eyes that I realize I’m alone again.
But not even that can stop my grin because she stayed the entire time. She only ran when I couldn’t see her do it.
That’s progress.