Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until I hear a whisper in my ear. “I’m going to let myself out, okay?”

I sit up abruptly, and bump my head right into Quinn’s face. He lets out a yelp and backs up.

“I’m so sorry!” I scramble off the couch, hoping I haven’t broken anything. “You surprised me!”

“It’s my fault,” he says, rubbing his nose.

There’s no blood, thankfully. I reach up to check him over anyway, and Quinn leans into my palm when it brushes his cheek.

“Mmm,” he says, releasing a heavy breath. “I’ve wanted you to touch me all night.”

The words are so gently spoken, I’m not sure if I heard him right or not.

“You have?” But he’s done such a good job of keeping his hands to himself and hasn't made any overt gestures.

“Oh, god, yeah.” He inhales deeply as he puts his big hand over mine, holding it in place. “You smell like fucking rainbows. Like sunshine and ice cream and pizza and?—”

I get the sense he loves food.

“What is it with you guys?” I ask with a chuckle. “All of you and your smelling .”

A look flashes across Quinn’s face, something like uncertainty, but it goes away just as quickly.

“Good noses,” he says. He still hasn’t released my hand, and I find I don’t mind. I love how warm he is against me.

“Thanks for coming over,” I say at last, breaking the contact between us. “And for treating me like a princess.”

“Like a queen ,” he corrects, leaning down toward me. “Because that’s what you are. Our queen.”

I blink at him. “‘Our’?”

He claps a hand over his mouth. “Sheesh,” he says. “I really do come on too strong. I mean, you’re only my queen if you want to be. And a subject doesn’t ask for anything in return.” He gives me a charming grin. “Just that you treat us well.”

Maybe I don’t know much about Quinn yet, but it also feels like I’ve known him for ages. He makes me comfortable in a way that’s effortless. I guess I don’t mind him calling me his queen .

It’s nice to be someone’s queen.

“It’s okay,” I tell him, sitting back down. “I think you’re just a romantic.”

His eyes glitter. “That I am.” He sits down next to me, keeping a polite distance away, but I can sense how he wants to be closer. “And I’ve been looking for my queen for a long time.”

This gives me a start. That sounds much more serious than what I thought we were discussing. Balling up my hands in my lap, I have to look away from his earnest, dark eyes.

“Quinn...” I begin, and he flinches.

“Uh-oh,” he says, trying to sound playful, but I can hear the anxiety underneath it.

“Did Jace and Leon tell you?” I ask quietly. “About last night?”

He tilts his head. “Huh? Yeah. Of course they did.” A broad smile crosses his face. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

The relief is welcome, and my fingers finally unclench. At least he’s aware. But that doesn’t change where we are now—that I’m already in not one, but two relationships, and clearly Quinn wants even more from me.

“I have to admit,” he says, “that hearing my brothers talk about last night...”

Oh, no. Is he going to tell me he was jealous, and that’s why he’s here? Am I a piece of meat and they each want a bite of me?

“…I just thought you might need a little TLC,” Quinn finishes. “Leon’s got that alpha energy, and Jace is a strong personality.”

That’s not what I expected, and it makes me happy. “Thank you. I did need it.” Having someone baby me has really helped me shed off the anxiety from my week like a bunch of dust.

Quinn shyly takes my hand in his, as if waiting for me to take it back. Like before, though, his skin is so warm that I don’t want to let it go. “I’m not asking for anything,” he says carefully. “Nothing you don’t want to give. I can just sit and hold your hand forever, and I’ll be happy.”

The sick thing is that I do want more. I like Quinn, I have to admit. Something about him is comforting and cozy and right. He really did treat me like his queen tonight, and I know he meant everything he’s said and done.

If there’s one thing the landscapers have in common, it’s their sincerity.

But it’s all so much. I’m still sorting through the endorphin-driven feelings I have for Leon and Jace, and I don’t know where Quinn fits, if he does.

“I’m not sure what I can give,” I finally say, lowering my eyes to my lap. Quinn massages my hand as I talk, digging his thumb into the tense flesh of my palm. “I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water at work, and I’m already in a relationship with two other people.” I glance over at him quickly. “You should be seeing someone your own age, anyway. You’re too serious for only being?—”

“Twenty-three?” he supplies. “I’m not a kid or something, Tiff. I can make my own choices. And I know what I want, because I’ve wanted it for a long time.” He brings my hand up to his lips and hovers just centimeters away from kissing my knuckles. “But I also don’t want to cause you even more stress. I’m glad to go home now, and just be here when you need me.”

It seems far too good to be true. It must be. I don’t know what guy sits around waiting to dote on you hand and foot without expecting anything in return.

“I guess I can always use a free, home-cooked meal,” I say, trying to sound lighthearted.

But Quinn doesn’t answer. He simply watches me as he presses a gentle but bold kiss on the back of my hand. It sends a shockwave down my arm, straight to my nipples. God, why do these guys turn me on so much? It’s more than just the fact they’re all fit as fiddles and carved like David, or how they smell amazing, even when sweaty. They draw me to them on a level that feels deeper than that.

“I’ll take care of you every day if you want,” Quinn says in a low voice.

“Every day?” Geez.

“If you’ll let me.” He tilts my arm so he can kiss up my wrist, then the inside of my forearm. I allow it, like I’m hypnotized. Maybe I am, but he feels so good, I don’t want to stop him.

“I don’t know about every day,” I say, my breath hitching when he kisses up to my shoulder. Little sparks of electricity are spreading across my body from each point of contact.

Then he leans back, looking into my eyes, and I find so much more there than I was expecting. If anyone in the world means what they say, it’s Quinn. His dark brown eyes, I realize, have equally long, dark lashes, and they’re so full of affection for me that I have to resist kissing him right there.

“I want to kiss you,” Quinn says. “And I can leave it at that, if you’re ready for me to go home now.”

Why does my heart fall at this last part? Of course I want him to go home. I need a night alone, don’t I? Besides, this is all moving fast. Everything was different just yesterday, and now it’s changing again. I’m collecting landscapers like Pokémon cards.

“I shouldn’t,” I say finally. That would be insane of me, completely and utterly deranged, to even consider anything more with Quinn. Because I know what kissing will turn into if my body has its way. It already knows it wants him, and that’s something I can’t give in to after last night.

I’m not that greedy. The last thing I want is to make them think I’m a slut.

I shiver at the thought. That’s the kind of thing my mother would say.

“Tiff,” Quinn says, drawing my attention back to him. “If you can’t, you can’t, and I understand.” He lowers my hand back to my lap. “But if it’s a ‘should,’ if you feel like you’re not allowed to do it for some reason...” His gaze is firmly locked on mine. “Then I want to ask why? Why can’t you have what you want?”

I open my mouth to answer, but I can’t think of what I would say. The only other person here is Quinn. The only person who ever has to know is Quinn.

“I can just make you feel great and then get on my way.” He surreptitiously licks his lips. Immediately I wonder what he means by making me feel great , and my imagination conjures up all sorts of possible activities.

No, Tiff. Down. The sensible part of me says that I don’t deserve Quinn offering to pleasure me, no questions asked. No, I can’tdo this after the night I had with Leon and Jace.

But I want to say yes. I want to know what Quinn has in store for me. And maybe, just maybe, it's not about deserving, but about living.

So finally, I say, “All right.”

With a grin, Quinn turns to face me. His arm curls around my back and he leans over me, urging me with his body to sink back into the throw pillow. When his face is inches away from mine, he presses a gentle kiss to my lips. Before I can return it, he slides down until he’s breathing against my collarbone, where he licks my exposed throat. His mouth trails over my sweatshirt, and I didn’t even put on a bra. Chastely, he kisses past my two pert nipples to my belly, which is poking out from under the top. He presses his lips to that, too, and then continues over my sweatpants.

“I’ll keep all my clothes on,” Quinn says, his voice thick. “But I’d really, really like to take off your pants.”

He’s offering to eat me out, with nothing else expected? I’d be suspicious, but Quinn did cook me this whole dinner tonight, and he genuinely seemed to enjoy it.

“Okay,” I say uncertainly. “I’m a little, um...”

“Sore?”

How can Quinn be so casual about that? All I have to do is think of Jace’s bulge fitting into me, filling me up, and I blush all over.

“Yeah, sore,” I say meekly.

“Don’t be ashamed.” He rests his face on my belly, nuzzling it with his nose. “I heard you even took Jace’s knot. I’m proud of you.”

For a split second, I wonder if Quinn has one, too.

“Now these need to go,” he says, rubbing the band of my sweatpants. I’m certain now, as certain as I can be, that nothing will happen that I don’t want to happen. Quinn is safe. The only one I need to be afraid of is myself.

I grab my sweatpants and my underwear and pull them down at the same time, so he can’t see the granny panties I wore underneath.

“Can you sit on the edge of the couch?” Quinn asks, getting up to deposit my clothes neatly on the coffee table.

Curious, I follow his instructions, and he tugs me forward on the cushions until I’m splayed out in front of him. Then he kneels in front of me, between my open legs, and his eyes close as he simply inhales.

“Oh, damn,” he says, shaking his head.

His gaze looks less relaxed and much more intent when he stares down between my legs. He buries his face in my pussy all at once, like a dog that hasn’t been fed. I can’t help the abrupt moan that spills out of me as his tongue dances around my clit, rubbing it every which way, alternating fast strokes and languid ones as if he knows exactly what to do with me. He carefully avoids my slit, as if he knows it’s tender.

Instead, he pulls me even farther forward. “Lie back for me,” he says, his mouth shiny and wet, and I obey. Now I’m fully revealed to him, and he lets out a huff of pleasure. He licks his index finger thoroughly, then sweeps it down, past my pussy to the hole underneath it. “Will you let me in there?”

I’ve only done anal play once before, with a real freak of a guy I went out with a few times. He liked all kinds of unusual things, when I was much more sheltered and vanilla. But I remember that after I got used to it, it felt great.

“Okay,” I say with the slightest edge.

“I’ll go super slow.” Quinn licks his finger, then runs over the small, puckered hole again. He returns to licking me, and I fall back down on the couch.

That finger circles, pressing in, testing and coaxing me to open. Slowly, he works it inside my ass, all while he feasts on me. The moment that foreign digit settles in and my body adjusts, it feels amazing . It takes only a few more seconds of his tongue feverishly working my clit and that finger pumping in and out for me to break. Quinn keeps licking and thrusting as I crumble into pieces, moaning and squirming on the couch as my sensitized body reacts. Finally he stops, then pulls back and wipes his face.

“Wow,” he says. “Fucking delicious. The perfect dessert.” Without attempting anything else, he smooths over my thighs with his hands, kneading my muscles until I’m turning into jelly.

How many times have I orgasmed in the last seventy-two hours? I can’t count.

Quinn lowers my legs down onto the couch, and I liquefy into it. I don’t even realize I’ve fallen asleep again until I sense someone carrying me.

It’s Quinn, and after opening the door to my room, he pulls back my sheet to put me in bed. I think he’s going to leave, and the part of me that’s half awake doesn’t want that. He was so good to me, so kind to me, so gentle and caring that all I want is to hug him and snuggle his cute face.

I extend my arms out toward him and whimper, craving the warmth of him in my cold bed, and Quinn responds with a light chuckle.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he whispers as he climbs into the bed next to me, all of his clothes still on, and brings me in close. I realize I’m still not wearing any pants, but I find that I don’t care.

I drift back off like that, wrapped up in him.