Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

QUINN

"We're so pleased with the progress she's made," Mrs. Aguilar, Flora's teacher, says as the kid waves goodbye to her friends. "She was so shy when Mr. Hayes first brought her in, but now look at her—she has friends."

I wasn't around when Flora first started school, but I remember how reserved she was even around me when I first met her. That little girl seems so far away now compared to the one in front of me.

I smile. "It's amazing, isn't it?"

"It is! I can't help but notice that she began blossoming around the time Mr. Hayes brought you on board. I think he made a wise decision in doing so."

My hackles rise. Is she saying Hayes is a bad parental figure? That he was somehow messing things up with Flora?

"Not that he's a bad guardian or anything," she says, sensing my anger. "He was doing great on his own. But I think your presence has helped…bridge that gap between them, you know?"

I nod. I do know. I've witnessed it myself. They no longer sit in silence during meals or stare at each other awkwardly. They talk. They interact. Flora even helped Hayes with his tie before his game yesterday. They're like a little family now instead of strangers, and it warms my heart to see.

"Anyway," Mrs. Aguilar says, "just thought I'd let you know we think Flora is doing great and to keep up the good work."

"Thank you. I appreciate that," I tell her as Flora runs up to me, skidding to a stop beside us. "And I'm sure Mr. Hayes does too. I'll be sure to let him know."

We wave goodbye to Flora's teacher, then start our journey back to the house. I normally drive to pick her up, but it's a nice day out today, and I could use the walk to clear my head, especially after yesterday.

I did not anticipate falling into bed with Adam Hayes, nor did I think it would happen a second time. Or a third. Or the fourth. And I certainly did not expect the fifth when he came home from his game and snuck into my room at nearly midnight.

I can't say I'm complaining about that last one. Hell, I can't say I'd complain about any of them. Not when they felt so, so good .

I should probably be more disappointed in myself for sleeping with my boss again , but I can't find it in me to be. We're just having fun. It's not a big deal and we're two consenting adults. Where's the problem in that? As long as Flora isn't affected by it and I can still do my job, it shouldn't be such a big deal.

So then why do I keep getting this heavy feeling in my stomach when I think about it? Sure, I was the one who suggested it to Hayes in the first place, but even as I did, the words left a sour taste in my mouth. I ignored them last night because it was easier to when I was snuggled against his warm, hard body, but now? Now it feels less and less like a good idea.

Yet…I don't want to stop. I don't want to stop at all. Yesterday felt way too good, and I know for a fact I haven't had my fill of him yet. I've barely even scratched the surface. There's no way I could walk away now, even if I know I should.

I shake those thoughts away, tucking them into the back of my mind for me to spiral over later, and focus on the little girl by my side.

"So, how was your day?" I ask as we wait at the crosswalk.

"Good. Mrs. Aguilar wore a dress that had kittens on it."

"I saw that. I think she'd love my yarn-ball earrings. Get it?" I nudge her. "Because cats love to play with yarn."

She shrugs. "I've never played with a cat before."

"Ever?"

"I wanted one really bad because my friend from my old school couldn't stop talking about hers, but my daddy said I couldn't have a pet because I was bad and didn't deserve it."

I frown. "That's not true. You know that, right?"

She just shrugs again, and it makes my heart ache. Her dad already sounded like a piece of work, but now I don't like him even more. I'm not saying every kid deserves a pet because there are some right little shits out there, but Flora isn't one of those kids. She's good, and her dad's a jackass for saying otherwise.

"I have an idea," I say, tugging on her hand and moving us to the opposite side of the crosswalk.

"But we live that way." She points in the direction of Hayes's house.

"I know, but trust me, okay?"

"Okay."

I should probably be worried she's going along with this so easily and not more curious, but I'm too excited about my idea.

"You're going to love this. I promise."

"All right, Just Quinn. But if I don't… "

"If you don't, I promise to eat a grilled-cheese-and-pickle sandwich for dinner tonight."

She beams. "You got yourself a deal."

"Mmm. This totally normal and pickle-free grilled cheese is so yummy."

Flora giggles, and I toss her a wink. I won the little bet of ours by a mile. The second I dragged Flora into the pet rescue, her eyes lit up, and she ran to their cages, sticking her fingers through the bars and cooing at the creatures.

She then begged and begged and begged to take one home—something I should have seen coming—but luckily for me, they were all already adopted, and I dodged that bullet. Before we left, I took a card from the owner, promising I'd be back after I spoke with Flora's uncle. Now I just have to convince Hayes it's a good idea.

He looks between us, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, and I just shrug.

"What?"

He points his fork—the one he's using for some weird protein-pasta thing he's eating—between the two of us. "You two are being weirder than usual. "

Flora giggles loudly again, and I shoot her a look that says, Calm down, you're gonna make him more suspicious. Of course, that sends her into an even bigger fit of giggles, and soon I'm laughing along too, Hayes the only one completely confused by what's going on.

When I get Flora settled down, Hayes is sitting back in his chair, big arms folded over his chest. He looks so good like this, his hair still wet from his shower, muscles barely contained inside the Serpents tee he's wearing. He even trimmed his beard a little, making him look a bit less crazy, though I will miss the feel of it between my legs.

We've kept things totally normal between us today. Granted, he spent most of his day at the rink to make up for the Serpents losing in overtime last night, but still. We've been good. It's almost like we didn't break any rules.

Then he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and I remember the feel of it as he licked at my pussy. Oh yeah, we did break the rules. We broke them big-time.

"What am I missing?" he asks, and I got so distracted by staring at him I almost forgot what we were even talking about. So much for things being totally normal.

I shake away all thoughts of our sexcapades and fold my hands together on top of the table like I'm ready for a serious conversation, and I guess I sort of am.

"Flora has something she would like to ask you, and I think it would be great if you kept an open mind."

He eyes me warily before slowly sliding his gaze to Flora. "What do you want to ask me?"

She sits up straight in her chair, tipping her chin high and clearing her throat. "I would like a cat."

Hayes barks out an abrupt laugh. "No."

"But I?—"

"Absolutely not."

"I—"

"I said no ," he says, more sternly this time with a finality that has her little shoulders sagging and the corners of her lips turning down.

She drops her chin to her chest and nods.

"Okay," she whispers, and my heart fucking breaks for her.

"Go get ready for bed," he tells her.

She scurries from the table without another word. I half expect her to slam her door closed with frustration, but that's not Flora's style. It is , however, my style, and if I don't get a good explanation from Hayes, I'm about two seconds from marching out of here and slamming my own door closed .

"Stop looking at me like that," he mutters, shoving out of his chair and taking his plate to the sink.

I don't even have it in me to be impressed he's cleaning up after himself. I'm too busy being pissed. How dare he talk to her like that. How dare he shut her down so coldly. How fucking dare he make her feel like her father did!

"You didn't even hear her out," I say to his back.

"Because I don't need to. We're not getting a cat."

"Why not?"

He sighs. "Because I said so."

"That's not a reason."

He drops his plate into the sink, making a loud clang, then spins to face me. "Because I don't need another thing to take care of, okay? I don't need another responsibility, another thing to completely screw up."

Is that what he thinks he's doing?

"You're not screwing up, Hayes. You're doing the best you can with what you've been given. But those words don't mean shit coming from me. You're not going to listen to me until you believe it, and I'm telling you right now, you better start believing it soon. Right now, you have a hurt little girl in the other room, and the only reason she's hurt is because you're scared."

I rise from my chair and go to check on Flora, leaving Hayes behind to clean up the mess .

He's the one who made it anyway.

It's nearly midnight when my door creaks open, and I'm not entirely surprised by it. I haven't spoken to Hayes since I walked out of the kitchen. Flora hasn't either. I put her to bed, only reading a few pages of her book before calling it a night. We were both too upset to continue. After, I shut myself in my room, resisting the urge to run back out to Hayes and give him a piece of my mind for upsetting Flora the way he did. It's one thing to have a conversation with her and tell her no, but it's another to handle it the way he did, especially since Flora doesn't understand that she's not the problem, he is.

I lie still as Hayes sneaks into my room, the door snicking shut softly behind him. He doesn't walk in right away. He just stands there, like he's waiting for me to kick him out.

I should. I really, really should. But I don't.

I sit up in bed and flip on my bedside lamp, and a yellow haze illuminates the room. Hayes is standing with his back pressed against my door, his head bent low just like Flora's was earlier at the table. It's funny how much they look alike sometimes .

He sighs, then lifts his head, and I hate that even in this hideous light, he still somehow manages to look so damn good in a simple gray t-shirt and flannel sleep pants.

"Are you still mad?" he asks quietly.

I nod. "Yes."

"Do you want me to leave?"

I shake my head. "No."

And I hate that too.

He stalks toward me, sitting on the edge of the mattress. "Look, you were right. I was a jerk to her earlier, and she didn't deserve it. It's just…" He rubs a hand over his beard, then sighs. "This is hard enough, you know? Adding a pet… It'll just be even more I have to worry about. Is she feeding it? Is she taking care of it? Is she making sure it doesn't escape? And don't even get me started on the inevitable vet visits with my schedule. It's a lot."

He looks stressed just thinking about it, and the urge to make him feel better overwhelms me. I crawl out from under my blanket and wrap myself around him until I'm sitting in his lap. He slips his arms around my waist as I wind mine around his neck, forcing him to look at me.

"Flora wouldn't be doing it alone, Hayes. I'd be helping her."

He shakes his head. "That's not fair to you. You shouldn't have to take on more responsibility because I can't."

"What if I want to?"

"Then you're crazy."

"I mean, I am sleeping with my boss, so maybe."

He groans. "That's another thing I'm doing wrong."

"What?"

"You. This. Us. We aren't supposed to be doing this."

I shrug. "We're just having fun." I pause, then say, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You're the youngest, right?"

"Unfortunately."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being the youngest." I narrow my eyes at him, and he cracks a smile—just barely, but still. "But there are two roles for the youngest—they're the wild child who can't be tamed. That's me, by the way."

Now he's really smiling. "You don't say."

"It's true. Crazy, I know." I wink at him. "Then there are the youngest who are forgotten. Their parents already raised other kids, so they're sort of forced to raise themselves. These kids become fixers, especially because they've always relied on themselves for everything. So they think every little problem should fall on their shoulders. I have a feeling you're a fixer."

"I'm not, though. I'm not, but I'm trying to be. I'm the wild child."

I shake my head. "No. You became the wild child. You weren't always, were you?"

He darts his eyes away, and I know I'm right.

"I actually got straight As in school. Full-ride scholarship. Can you believe that? I was at the top of my class. My parents didn't give a shit, obviously, but I did. If I had good grades, I could play hockey, and I really wanted to play hockey. Not just because it was my ticket out of that shithole town and shit life, but because I loved it. It was the only thing I had to get me through. I had to be good, or I'd wind up like them or Aiden, and that was the last thing I wanted."

He talks about the game the same way my brother does—like he would be lost without it. In Hayes's case, I think that might be true.

"Hockey saved you."

He nods. "Hockey saved me."

I have so many questions I want to ask him, so many things about him I don't know. But I can't think of them now, not when he's slipping his hand into my underwear, palming my ass. I know he's doing it on purpose. He's distracting me. He's avoiding talking about anything real. And I'm willing to allow it, especially with how good it feels as he kneads my cheeks, spreading them apart and letting his fingers dip into the crevice just enough to tease me.

"You know," he says, kissing my collarbone. "I don't think I ever noticed this mirror on the back of your door…"

"It's been there since I moved in."

It's such a stupid statement, but that's what I am right now—completely stupid. I can't be blamed. He's dragging his lips over my neck and up my jaw, nipping at me as his cock grows harder and harder by the second.

"It's giving me ideas."

"What kind of ideas?"

"Ideas where you finger your pretty little cunt, and I get to watch." He releases me, falling back on his palms that felt so good against me, and I feel so naked without his touch. "Turn around, Quinn."

I scramble to do what he says, flipping around in his lap until I'm facing the mirror. I straddle him backward, gasping when he spreads his legs, widening my thighs. I'm wet. It's so fucking obvious, the dark stain on my cotton underwear easy to see even in the dim light. I should be embarrassed, but I'm not. I can't be bothered. The look Hayes is giving me—like he's hungry and I'm the only one who can satisfy his need—doesn't allow room for it .

He grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head and dropping it to the floor so I'm sitting in his lap in nothing but my soaked panties.

"I want to see you," he says in my ear, and I barely hear him over my own heartbeat. He wraps his hand around my stomach, and goose bumps break out over my skin as he slides it up, cupping my breast in one hand and pinching my nipple. "Show me."

I nod, sliding my hand between my legs to the edge of my gray panties and pulling them to the side, revealing myself. He's seen me plenty before, but with the way his eyes widen and his nostrils flare, you'd think it was his first time.

"Fuck," he groans in my ear, and it's so damn hot I can hardly stand it. "Touch it. Touch it and tell me what you feel."

I slip a finger over my clit, and though the touch is soft, I still shudder, already so on edge. I circle the sensitive spot a few times, teasing myself before diving lower and slipping one finger inside.

I sigh, resting back against him. It's not as good as his touch, but it's better than nothing, especially right now.

"What do you feel, Quinn?"

"Warm."

"What else?" he prompts, practically panting in my ear, his eyes locked on what my finger is doing .

"Wet."

"And?"

"Tight." I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. "I'm so fucking tight, Hayes."

"Don't I fucking know it, honey."

He growls, low and throaty, like he's barely able to hold himself back right now, and I know the feeling. I add another finger, loving how his eyes spark when I begin thrusting them into my pussy, my fingers shining with my arousal.

Hayes watches me the whole time as I bring myself closer and closer to the brink, teasing with the palm of my hand over my clit every so often while he continues running his fingertips over my nipple. His attention doesn't waver from what I'm doing between my legs, and it's somehow too much and not enough all at the same time.

I want more. I want him.

I wiggle in his lap, and he chuckles.

"Do you want more?"

I nod. "Please."

"Then ask. Use your words, Quinny."

I hate begging. Absolutely hate it. But I'll do it if it means just a little bit of relief in this moment.

"Touch me, Hayes. Make me come. Make me scream your name."

He grins. "Happily. "

He swats my hand, replacing my fingers with his, and I instantly feel so much fuller than I just was.

"Oh god," I moan, wanting so badly to close my eyes, but I know if I do, he'll stop, and more than anything, I don't want him to stop. I rock against him, not caring how eager it makes me seem, and he slides even deeper.

But it's still not enough. I want more.

"Hayes…"

I don't have to say anything else. He already knows. He slips a third finger into me, and now it's almost too much. I drop my head back, slamming my eyes closed against the sting of the stretch, and he grabs my chin, jerking it back down.

"Look at yourself," he says, his voice scratchy with need. "Look at the way your cunt stretches around my fingers. You're dripping for me. So fucking wet. All for me."

"For you," I say.

My eyes drop to where his fingers are lost inside me. His tattooed arm flexes as he pumps in and out, his thumb barely brushing against my clit. God, I look like a fucking mess. Sweat is slicked down the back of my neck, my hair is everywhere, and I'm the only one who is naked, Hayes still fully dressed.

"Do you want to come?"

"Please. "

"Can you be quiet?"

I shake my head. "No."

"I didn't think so. But you're going to have to be, honey. Understood?" I nod. "Good. Now cover your mouth while you come on my hand."

I've never slapped my hand over my mouth so quickly before, and Hayes barely waits until it's there before he's surging into me, fucking me hard and fast with his fingers, his thumb on my clit as I ride the wave.

"Oh fuck," I say into my hand. "I'm coming. I'm?—"

My orgasm slams into me, my legs shaking with the force of it, and I've never been so thankful for Hayes's instructions as I scream into my hand, unable to hold it back any longer. He fucks me through the onslaught, never once letting up, and I don't care that my pussy is sore from being stretched or that my legs are aching from being spread so wide.

I can't care.

Hayes slips his fingers from me and into his mouth, licking off my orgasm from each digit one by one, like it's his favorite meal and he wouldn't dare leave a drop of it behind. It's so carnal. So crude.

And I love every second.

I turn my head to his, capturing his mouth with mine, tasting myself on his tongue. He kisses me hungrily, like he's still not satiated. I'm not either. I wrench my mouth from his and crawl off his lap onto my knees between his thighs. I hook my fingers in the waistband of his flannel pants and tug them down.

"What are you doing?" he asks even as he lifts himself, allowing me to undress him.

I take his heavy cock in my hand, pumping it a few times before sliding my tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip, then back down again. I tease him over and over, sucking the head of him but not taking it any further, enjoying being the one in charge far, far too much.

He looks down at me with hooded eyes. "Tease."

I grin around the tip of him.

"As much as I'm enjoying this, I really want to fuck your throat."

He's so big and can barely fit there. There's no way I'm going to be able to deep throat him. Yet, my pussy throbs at the idea.

"Would you let me?" He runs his fingers over my jaw as I continue to tease. "Would you let me spill my cum down your throat, Quinny? Would you let me use you until you're so raw you're hoarse tomorrow?"

I nod.

"Use your words," he reminds me.

"Please, Adam. Use me."

"Good." He rises to his feet, gripping the base of his cock as I stare up at him with want. "Then hold your hair back and put your tongue out."

I do as he asks, then wait. He slaps his heavy cock against my tongue a few times, then slides it against me, testing the friction.

"Fuck. So warm. So soft."

He slides in more, stretching my mouth around him the way he stretched me around his fingers. He gives me an inch at a time, letting me breathe through it until he bumps the back of my throat, and I gag a little. I feel him twitch at the sound.

He settles there, letting me get used to the feeling of him before backing away, and I gasp air in. He does it again, over and over until I'm taking him easier. Longer. Deeper.

But he's holding back. I can tell, and not just because his legs are shaking. It's the way his shoulders are tense and the sweat that's forming along his hairline. He wants to let go so bad, and I want him to, too. I hum around him the next time he slides in deep, letting him know I'm ready, and he gets the picture.

"Going to fuck you now," he mumbles, and it's the only warning I get before he completely gives in, surging into me and slamming against the back of my throat.

He was right—I am going to be hoarse tomorrow, but I welcome it if it means I get to feel him like this right now. I keep my promise, letting him use me until he's spurting into the back of my throat, a low groan leaving him as he fills me. I swallow him down the best I can, but it's too much, some of his cum dribbling down my chin.

Hayes pulls me up by my hair, then slides his tongue along the salty line before slamming his mouth over mine. He spins me around, pressing a hand to the middle of my back before I fold over and he surges into me from behind. I let out a loud yelp at the sudden intrusion.

"Shh!" he says, curling his body around mine and covering my mouth as he slides into me again. "Be a good girl and keep quiet, Quinny."

I nod, moaning as he fucks into me hard and impossibly deep. I'm tired and sore and I can barely keep myself up, but it's still somehow the best I've ever felt. I'm as quiet as I can be, and Hayes follows behind me shortly after, the room going from the sounds of our slapping bodies to nothing but our harsh breaths as he maneuvers us onto the bed, then collapses beside me. I lie there, struggling to catch my breath and unable to move, unable to think. I've died and this is the afterlife, I'm sure of it.

"Why?"

The sudden noise startles me, and I lift my head, turning to look at Hayes .

"What?"

He rolls his head, his silver eyes bright. "Why does Flora want a cat?"

I smile. "Because she's a kid and all kids want a pet. Didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I dropped it as soon as I was told I wasn't allowed to have one."

"She was told that too, by your brother. He said she was bad and didn't deserve one."

His dark brows slash together. "I fucking hate him."

I nod. "I think I do too."

He turns his stare back to the ceiling, going quiet once more. I watch him watch the blades of the ceiling fan turn and turn and turn again until my eyes are heavy with sleep, and I close them, ready to fall under its spell.

I don't know how long passes until Hayes says, "She can have the damn cat."

I fall asleep with a smile on my face.