Quiet Ones (Hellbent Book 3), page 31
And she matches me, gripping my waist and moving her mouth over mine.
I back her into the lockers, opening my eyes and doing a sweep of the area as we kiss to make sure we’re alone. My body stirs with a thousand fucking currents of heat, and any resistance in my head is drowned out.
I tell her, “I can’t stop looking at you and wanting to touch you…”
“I wanna feel my skin on yours,” she whimpers.
Together, we pull her sports bra over her head, and I palm one of her breasts as she sinks into my body again. “She offered me a roll in bed if I need to blow off steam,” I pant between kisses before devouring her neck.
“But you want to blow off steam with me,” she says.
Yes. Quinn is the sole reason my body and head are jacked. Only she will do.
I start to peel down her shorts. “Your family is here.”
“I don’t care.”
I’m not fucking her in a men’s locker room. But I gotta get off. I need to feel her.
She kicks off her shorts, leaving her nearly naked in her thong, and I lift her up, letting her wrap her legs around me.
She moans again and again, leaving little kisses all over my face.
God, I can’t think about anything anymore. She feels so fucking good. Like home.
“I need a shower,” she whispers.
I should take her in a shower stall—out of view and shielded by the noise of the water. But she’ll be too hard to keep hold of if she’s wet. I know what I want.
“Not yet.”
Taking a seat on the wide bench in the middle of the row, I let her straddle me as I rip off my towel. Leaning back on my arm, I hold her waist with the other hand as she starts grinding on me. The rock-hard ridge of my cock rubs against her wet panties.
She leans in, riding hard and fast as she kisses me. “I’m safe with you. Show me what you like.”
I groan, tipping my head back as she bites my neck. “I like you.”
For the first time in nearly a decade, I’m out of my mind with want of something.
And someone wants me. It feels good to have muscles in my arms again. To be scared her family’s going to fucking kill me, but I want her more than I fear them.
Heat pools in my stomach, and I punch up a little, pressing my dick into her thin panties.
“Oh, God.” She rolls her hips faster, her clit running over my dick over and over again. “Don’t stop.”
Our foreheads together, she pumps on top of me. “You know what to do,” I pant. “Just like that.”
Leaning back a little, she thrusts, her orgasm rising as her breathing stutters. I can’t take my eyes off her full breasts, taut stomach, and the way her ass rolls on top of me.
“You just move the panties aside and you can be inside me,” she teases.
Fuck...
I grunt, feeling my orgasm coming. The mere idea of how tight and hot she’ll be sending me reeling.
I shoot back up, squeezing her thighs in both hands and gliding the tip of my tongue over her jaw. So fucking hot.
Fire courses up my body, flowing from every limb to my center.
“Oh, God,” she cries out. “I want to feel you inside me. Please, Lucas. It feels so good.”
I know, baby. I want to fucking fill you too.
But not here.
She throws her head back again, crying out so loudly, and I don’t fucking stop her, because I can’t. I growl, squeezing my eyes shut, and I pull my dick out from under her and stroke it just as I shoot onto her stomach.
“Oh, baby.” I breathe hard. “Oh, God.”
She grinds a few more times, her orgasm coursing through her, and I just stare at my cum on her skin, dripping onto her panties.
Goddammit.
Grabbing her, I take her mouth in mine, not an ounce of fucking guilt.
We kiss for a while before she finally mews, pulling back for air. “Thank you,” she says.
I kiss her mouth, her nose, and forehead, running a thumb over her nipple.
Binge her.
I feel spent but not sated. We’re going to have to do that again. A lot.
Her forehead meets mine again as she smiles at me. “I want frozen yogurt downstairs before you take me back to Weston,” she pants. “Or else I’m gonna tell my brothers how good of a summer I’m really having.”
I cock a brow. But I smile too. Well, we can’t have that, can we?
Quinn
The heat from yesterday still warms the pavement, filling the early morning air with a sultry breeze that reminds me of the locker room last night. It had been heavy with moisture from his shower, and his skin—especially his neck—was like a blanket of fire. I could taste everything.
I pedal across the bridge, heading into Shelburne Falls in the dark as I let go of the handle bars. I hold out my hands, balancing as I ride with my backpack strapped to my back.
He kissed me.
I let out a breathy laugh, unable to contain it. He kissed me like he couldn’t stop.
His arms had been so tight, and his hands left bruises on my thighs. I glance down at my left leg, seeing the purple and not minding it at all. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, and I knew he would’ve stopped if I’d told him to, but I let him squeeze and grip and hold, because it felt like he wanted to glue me to him so he’d never be without me. For a few minutes, it felt like that.
My lips are swollen, and in the hours since he kissed me goodnight and dropped me off at home, it’s the kisses I thought of more than how hard he was or how good the orgasm hit.
He’d wiped himself off my stomach, but I hadn’t washed the underwear. I’m not sure I will. He’ll wake up with guilt this morning and act like the jerk later, but I’ll have the panties to remind me that he got off on me, no matter how much he tries to ruin it.
Cruising into the center of town, I peer over my shoulder, the street behind me quiet and misty. Porch lights shine, trees sway in the breeze, and cars sit parked along both curbs, empty and dark. I can’t see the clouds above me, but I smell them. It was supposed to be a clear day, so let’s hope it holds out.
Barreling down High Street, I’m about to take a left to go around the building, to the back, but someone waits at my front door.
I recognize Mrs. Jamieson. “Morning!” I shout.
She waves, looking relieved to see me.
I slow and jump off my bike, walking it onto the sidewalk and digging out my keys.
“Thanks for being here so early,” she says.
“Oh, it’s no problem.” I unlock the shop. “Lots to do, so I’d be up anyway.”
Leaving the Closed sign facing outward, I prop the door open so she can carry her order out.
Shelby Jamieson is married to someone my sister-in-law, Tate, used to date. Always a sore subject for Jared, even though Ben is a great guy and tips my staff well. It took him a long time to find someone, but now he and his wife have four kids and they’re great customers. I like anyone who keeps Jared nervous.
I park my bike off to the side and let her follow me in.
“Do you have the schedule for the crawl?” she asks.
“Right here.” I pat the counter with the schedule of festivities taped to the surface. “Eagle Point, the mayor’s house, High Street, Camp Blackhawk, and Fallstown.”
I memorized the BBQ Crawl because I’m supplying food to two of the stops. Opening the cooler in the kitchen, I walk inside and reach on a shelf for one of her orders.
“Is your brother bussing the drinkers?” she shouts.
“Of course.” I pull out the cupcakes and charcuterie tray filled with little desserts. “Have to make sure the fun goes on.”
“Delightful,” she coos, coming into the kitchen. “We’ll have the kids in bed after the block party here and make it in time for Adult Night Camp.”
I chuckle, loving how my brothers plan everything in a way so that the adults can act like perpetual teenagers. Like how Jax schedules the kids’ summer camp sessions so the Fourth of July falls between two. The cabins are empty of kids, and the town’s adults can come play instead.
“Well, I’ll be in bed by then,” I call out.
“You’re twenty-one now.”
I carry the two orders out of the cooler and set them down on the table. “And I can’t be drunk when I make coffee for you all in the morning,” I tell her.
“Too right.”
I lift up the cover for the treat tray.
“Quinn, wow!” She peels it back more and then opens the cupcake box. Her eyes light up, the festive flavors fragrant with fruity smells.
“Wait, there’s more,” I chirp, running back into the walk-in fridge. “Did you bring help?”
“Oh, Quinn.” She continues to gush. “This looks amazing. It’s too pretty to eat!”
My heart kicks up speed. I love hearing that tone in a customer’s voice.
I bring out another small box of just four cupcakes. “Will Brigit have that friend over today, the one allergic to strawberries?”
“Yes, but don’t worry.” She can’t take her eyes off the fruit kabobs. “I got some alternative snacks.”
Setting down the small carton in front of her, I peel back the lid and show her the four identical cupcakes to the ones I already gave her. But these are for her daughter’s friend. “No strawberries.”
She beams as she inspects the treats. “How did you know?”
“You said she was having a sleepover, so I figured her bestie was coming.”
“Thank you.” She looks almost in tears. “This will make her night.”
As I ring her up, her son pulls up to the curb, and we start securing the treats into her back seat.
“Thank you!” she calls out as they back away.
I wave. “Have fun and see you later!”
Hailey arrives, and we carry trays and boxes of treats to her car parked in the alley. Notifications start pouring in through my phone as the sun comes up and families begin getting excited for the day—tagging me in pics of their decorated patios and spreads of cakes, cookies, and other goodies they bought from me. Hailey takes the last of the Rice Krispies Treats and red, white, and blue macarons, and I smile as I scroll through all the beautiful displays on social media.
Stressful doesn’t even begin to cover all the preparation it took to make those dishes and confections and coordinate pickups and deliveries in a narrow window of time. And I’ll be dealing with it over every major holiday, if I’m lucky.
The potential of Carnival Tower’s extra space makes me breathe easier. More walk-in refrigerators, bigger kitchen, larger dough mixer, more counter space… And the rooftop access! Employees can go out for breaks and fresh air... I could start an herb garden up there.
“Ready!” Hailey shouts from outside.
She starts up her RAV4, and I rush through the kitchen door to go close and lock the front door. Someone steps in from the sidewalk.
“Hi.” I smile, grabbing my bank from the register. “I’m sorry we’re closed to the public for—”
But my last word drifts off as I see him standing there in the darkened doorway, shrouded in shadow. Standing still.
So still.
I hear my pulse in my ears as I take in his familiar form, the outline of his short, sculpted hair, and the crisp fit of his suit. As if it’s not a national holiday for him.
Is it the same suit he wore when he left the phone here?
Is he the one I spoke to on the phone when I was inside the tower?
His frame reminds me of Lucas—his broad, tense stance like armor.
Breathing shallow, I take a step back but halt. I want to know who he is.
Walking around the counter, I inch toward him.
He retreats a foot, and I stop.
An electric current trails up my arms, my neck, and to the top of my scalp. Was he trying to just pop in as a customer and watch me, unnoticed?
Or…
Is he scared? From what I gather from the murder map, these brothers have been living in the shadows for a long time.
I shoot off toward him, he pivots to the right, and then he’s gone. I rush to the door, but I hear Hailey’s cry. “Quinn! Help! The cupcakes!”
I grab the doorframe, catching myself, and hesitate. I look down the sidewalk, not seeing him.
“Quinn!”
I growl under my breath. Dammit.
That was stupid of me, but if he wanted to hurt me, I think he would’ve done it by now.
Grabbing the door, I slam it closed and lock it before I run back through the kitchen.
It’s time to bring in Hawke. I’ve got a stalker, possibly two if I count the black Dodge, and I don’t want to die because I was stubborn.
I’m not letting him take over, though. I’ll remind him that I’m older.
Like that will help.
Jogging to Hailey, I catch the box on top of the stack just before it topples and let her resecure the straps holding everything down.
Taking the container, I lock everything else in place, get into the passenger side, and lay the box on my lap as we jet off to the park.
Doing a quick mental check, I remember all the locks I secured. He won’t be able to get into the tower.
But still… I take Hailey or Noel back with me over the next couple of hours—just to be safe—as we make several trips to bring food to our booth in the park. Other vendors set up, and a few food trucks arrive.
I gaze longingly at them. A food truck… Great for offsite events like today, or a mobile, second location. It could be at the university. Or off the highway, en route to the summer camp and hiking trails.
I shake my head. I’ll never live long enough to make all these dreams come true. Just concentrate on making Frosted a success and my home livable, I tell myself. For a few years, at least.
I have to keep reminding myself that I don’t have to rush. I never should’ve.
Last night drifts through my head again, and I’m breathless.
I liked it.
I loved it.
But it doesn’t feel like I thought it would. Or rather, I don’t feel like I thought I would. It was no use rushing to be someone he’d want, only to become someone I didn’t love. I missed all the milestones I should’ve had in order to get here, and now that I have my own place, I want more.
For me.
Just for me.
I lock up my shop one last time as Hailey takes her car, and I walk my bike out of the alley and toward the street. It’s almost ten in the morning, the sun beating down already. I dig out Lucas’s hat and pull it on, weaving my bicycle through the thick crowd lining both sides of High Street.
He could be here. Somewhere.
Deacon.
The parade is just kicking off, the marching band spilling festive notes into the air and everyone is covered in color. Firecrackers go off, a few teenagers jumping around and laughing.
Inching up on my tiptoes, I spot Madoc and Fallon sitting on the back of a classic convertible, my brother beaming, waving, and shouting joyously at friends he sees in the crowd. Fallon, on the other hand, always looks like she’s suffering through a calculus class. I laugh to myself. She’s a good sport with the whole public profile aspect of her husband being a mayor. She found the trick to survival, though. Focus on the kids. She smiles and waves at all of the little ones, taking balls from a box on the back seat and tossing them to the children.
I see another blond head, my heart skipping a beat, until I realize it’s just Hunter. Kade is next to him. They breeze past, walking their dog, Tank, and tossing T-shirts into the crowd to promote their frat, while A.J. rides Dylan’s back as she and Aro play rebel soldiers play-fighting Hawke—the British redcoat. They look like the three stooges, antagonizing and fake-kicking each other’s butts.
I don’t find Lucas in the crowd.
A.J. tosses candy to the spectators, while James does the same from his ATV. Should he be riding that on the street?
I find my way to Jax and Juliet who stand on the sidelines with one of Aro’s siblings whom they foster.
“Isn’t that like a safety hazard?” I ask, motioning to my ten-year-old nephew on his four-wheeler.
Jax stands behind his wife, his arms around her. “I’m sure.”
I sigh, looking at all the phones out filming everything. “Madoc is trying his hardest to get canceled.”
Just wait till someone online takes issue with it.
“And yet, everyone just adores him,” Jax says with a hint of pride. “What do you think, honey?”
Juliet leans back into Jax’s nuzzling. “I think we’re about to have a senator in our pocket.”
Jax laughs, and I turn my eyes back on Madoc, seeing him shoot one of Fallon’s balls like a basketball into an empty stroller, the parents clapping and laughing with the toddler in their arms.
“You don’t wrangle him in,” I mutter, “you’re going to have a president in your pocket.”
They chuckle.
I don’t.
They stop smiling because they realize I’m not kidding.
Jax’s face falls, followed by Juliet’s worrying wide eyes.
“Jared would kill him,” Jax says.
“Fallon would kill him first,” she replies.
I continue on my way, amused. We could all try to hold Madoc back, but an unhappy Madoc is like a sea monster. You’re not sure it exists, and you don’t really want to find out, either.
I weave through the parade, cross the street, and jump on my bike. Pedaling hard, I work my way back up to Eagle Point Park, the scent of freshly mown lawns and charcoal barbecues filling the air. Firecrackers and bottle rockets pop and whistle as I ride past houses, and the music from the parade follows me, only fading a little through all the trees that hang over me in the park.
I coast, climbing off the bike and standing on one pedal all the way to my booth. Codi has arrived and helps arrange the treats, while Hailey stocks napkins.
“I’m burning some calories today,” I joke as I halt the bike and park it behind the booth.
