Something Like Redemption (Something Like Normal #2) (19 page)

A tiny laugh escapes me, but I don’t fail to notice the fact he just called me his girl.

“Am I?” I ask, stroking him softly, my small hands trying to hold all of him, but not even coming close.

“Are you what?” he pants, his mouth parted, the light catching off the barbell on his tongue.

“Am I your girl?” I ask, which also comes out breathy, as watching Quinn come undone because of what I’m doing is a bigger turn on than him doing it to me.

“Red, you were my girl from the moment I saw you. That’ll never change, I promise you. I’m yours for as long as you want me.”

I bite my cheek to stop myself from saying forever.

I seem to be getting a good rhythm, stroking him from root to tip, and before long, I’m working him harder, feeling his body shudder underneath my hands. But it’s not enough.

I want to see.

I want to taste.

My hand slows as I glide out of his pants and bend forward, kissing him on his parted mouth softly, before sliding down his body, until my knees hit the carpeted floor.

“Red, you don’t—”

But I cut him off, shaking my head. “I want to. Tell me how,” I say, surprised at my confidence.

“Whatever you do is going to feel amazing,” he replies with a smirk.

Looking up at him, I slowly reach for his zipper, pulling it down the rest of the way, his erection springing free.

Wow.

My eyes widen, surprised at how big he is, and how he fits it down his pants without walking with a permanent limp. My mouth waters and I’m shocked that all I want to do is take him into my mouth and suck.

I reach for his jeans and slide them down his legs, watching the way his tiny leg hairs roll with the movement. Pulling his jeans out of his boots, my eyes fall between his legs shamefully, as I can’t look anywhere but there. Thankfully, I somehow get his jeans off over his shoes, and the sight before me of Quinn in boots, a shirt and tie, is a memory I will revisit often.

Another memory I will never forget is when I bend forward and take his large head into my mouth, sucking lightly. Quinn jerks off the seat, his hands clenching the cushion underneath him while hissing loudly. I look up at him with him in my mouth, and witness his eyes turn desperate and frenzied. So I take him in further, slipping my tongue out, and licking the underside of him.

“Holy fuck!” he gasps, and I take that as a sign that I’m doing this right.

He tastes how he smells—delicious. And I want more.

My hands slide up his legs and rest on his knees, and I use them as leverage to lean further into his lap. This allows me to take more of him into my mouth, and I don’t realize how far down he is until he hits the back of my throat and I gag.

Pulling back, I don’t let him go, as I like the feel of him imbedded so deep. But I soon appreciate I don’t even have half of him inside my mouth. Wrapping my hand around his thick base, I begin stroking him to match the motion of my mouth.

Quinn moans and I can feel him flex underneath me. The harder I suck and stroke, the harder he tenses.

Circling his tip with my tongue, I taste a salty liquid seep out of him, and as soon as his flavor hits my tastebuds, my core clenches in craving. I do it again and Quinn groans, throwing his head back, closing his eyes.

“Red, you gotta stop,” he pants, his body quivering beneath me. “I’m going to come in your mouth if you don’t.”

But I don’t want to stop. Like he has said to me, I want him to be in my mouth when he does.

I let him go and slowly lick him from root to tip. I don’t know if I’m doing this right, but I’m using his curses as a guide. Judging by the profanity passing through his clenched lips, I must be doing okay.

I loved the way he felt at the back of my throat, so I relax and slide my lips over his length, taking him back down until he hits my throat. He shudders and tries to pull back, but I don’t let him go, loving the power I have over his body as he crumbles beneath me.

I’m so turned on by the taste, sight, smell, feel of him, a small whimper escapes me, my body shaking in need. And as I hear him murmur how good it feels, the pressure building in my core is making me violently achy and wet, and I need a release.

Wickedly, I slip my hand under my tights, and begin touching myself over my panties with Quinn still in my mouth. I moan, which comes out muffled as he’s slowly thrusting his hips forward, his hands resting in my hair, guiding how fast and how deep he wants me to go.

I pull my lips back, as I’m about to choke, meaning I can only suck a quarter of him. So I begin palming the rest of him, watching him come undone.

He is a beautiful beast, lost in a wave of pleasure with his eyes shut tight, wisps of fallen hair shrouding his face, and full lips parted, gasping for air. The look of unrestrained yearning contorts his entire being, and when he draws his lip ring into his mouth, my body shudders in heated desire.

Quinn’s eyes snap open as he hears me moaning, rubbing myself while pleasuring him.

“Holy fucking hell. Are you touching yourself?” he asks, his eyes widening as he sees my fingers working quickly between my legs.

Whimpering as I rub over my swollen bud, I can feel his hot stare slice through my body as he watches me pleasuring myself while pleasuring him. As my fingers quicken, matching the rhythm of my mouth, Quinn groans loudly and I feel him tense underneath me.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps, trying to pull out of my mouth, but I latch on, my cheeks hollowing with the suction.

I feel the first spurt jet down my throat, with more to follow in quick succession. I nearly gag, but I swallow everything he gives, wanting him inside of me. As his body jerks and spasms under my mouth, my hand quickens, desperate to bring myself to release. I’m not far off, as watching Quinn explode with a thunderous scream because of me is the hottest thing I have ever seen.

Before the last spurt rocks his body, he’s on me, pushing me backward, shoving the coffee table out of the way so he can lie me down onto the soft carpet.

As he covers my body with his, I’m taken off guard and confused, but as he reaches between us, yanking my dress up and my tights and underwear down, everything becomes crystal clear.

He lowers his mouth and buries his head between my legs, his mouth devouring my soaked core. I cry out because I’m already so close, and it doesn’t take long before I’m screaming out my release in long, labored pants.

This is the most erotic experience of my life, and the thought of what I did, combined with what Quinn is doing to me now, has me spiraling to yet another release in the span of a minute. But Quinn doesn’t stop until I beg him to, certain I will die if I come apart again.

I’m spent. I’m sticky. And I’m shaky.

But would I trade this feeling for anything in the world?

Hell to the fuck no.

Chapter 16

New Adventures

This time, I’m the first to wake, although, I wish I wasn’t, as I’m curled around Quinn’s body, his warmth my personal sauna. I wonder why I roused, as I’m completely sated and warm.

However, that quickly changes as I hear a distinct banging on the door, followed by a loud voice shouting, “Open up, it’s the police!”

Now I know what woke me.

My relaxed body springs upright with my heart about to burst through my chest. I brush back my hair, my ears needing to confirm if what I heard is real.

As the thumping pounds louder against our door, I jump out of bed and frantically shake Quinn to wake him up, because this shit is real. Lucky growls low in his throat, but I softly shush him, and thankfully, he seems to understand the dire situation we’re faced with and remains quiet.

When Quinn doesn’t stir, I shake him once again.

“What?” he moans, his eyes slipping open.

But I place my finger over his lips as the banging continues.

The moment I widen my eyes and mouth, “Police,” Quinn bolts upright, his eyes wild as he jumps out of bed, slipping on his jeans and sweater in record time.

I follow suit, balancing on one foot as I slip my boot on, not bothering to tie my laces as I slip my knife snugly inside.

Quinn grabs his wallet and backpack, motioning with his head toward the window. I nod, reaching for my backpack, but sadly, I don’t have enough time to gather anything else, as the banging keeps getting louder and louder.

Quinn softly unlatches the lock and steps out onto the balcony, holding the bifold door open for Lucky and I.

“What are we going to do now?” I ask, looking around for an escape route, but not seeing anything unless I fancy plummeting eighteen stories to my death.

Quinn sucks on his lip ring, his eyes frantically searching for an escape. As he looks to his right and peers up, he sees it.

“Up, Red. We gotta climb up.”

I see where he’s looking and cringe, but there is no other option.

“What about Lucky? We can’t leave him here,” I say on the verge of tears.

Lucky looks at me with his brown eyes. His freshly pampered fur from his extended stay at the doggy day care whips in the breeze, and my heart breaks at the thought of leaving him behind.

Quinn looks between me and the dog, noting my heartache. “I’ll carry him,” Quinn says, giving me a quick kiss to the forehead.

He carefully steps over the low balcony rail and settles onto the narrow ledge, testing its strength. His back is resting against the railing, his hands braced behind him, holding on tight.

His hair whips violently in the wind, and he turns his neck to look at me.

“I’m going to scale across, okay? When I’m about halfway close to the platform on the other side, you follow.”

Looking at the rusty old platform, which is about twenty steps away, I can’t believe how a five star hotel can have such a dangerous fire escape and not be shut down. It looks as if it hasn’t been operational since 1901, and I can see some of the steps are missing. But it’s the only escape route we have.

“You can do this,” he affirms, in tune to the fact that I’m near having a mental breakdown.

Quinn extends his hand, indicating he’s ready for Lucky.

Nodding, I pick Lucky up and carefully pass him to Quinn, who tucks him securely under one arm. Lucky whines and Quinn coos to him as he takes his first small sidestep, scaling across the thin ledge, heading to the platform that has a rickety old fire escape leading to the roof. My heart beats in my throat as I watch him, holding onto the rail with one hand, and Lucky in the other. I can’t watch, but I also can’t turn away until I know my two boys are safe.

This is the stuff you see in movies, where trained stuntmen and safety cables are involved. Sadly, we have neither.

Only when Quinn is close to the platform, do I take a deep breath and step over the rail, just like Quinn instructed. I feel everything inside of me shrink in fear, as I’m not a fan of heights, especially death-inducing heights. I don’t know why, but I feel safer doing this with my eyes closed, which is certainly not recommended by anyone, I’m sure, but I can’t do this with my eyes open, as the less I see, the better.

I mentally count each step, and counting to twenty has never taken so long. My hands have a death grip on the rail, and I try my best to step as quickly as possible without slipping, trying to think of anything other than the fact I am eighteen stories up in the air.

Mercifully, I feel Quinn’s hand grab my wrist, and I open my eyes as he helps me over the rail and onto the platform, which shakes violently in the cruel wind.

“Watch your step,” he says, looking up. “I’ll be behind you, Red. I won’t let you fall.”

I know he means that in every possible way, and I nod, taking a deep breath as I hold onto the banister and take my first step.

Quinn is true to his words, as he is only one step behind me, and when I step through a stair, nearly falling straight through, Quinn grabs me from behind, steadying me. Thankfully, the rest of the climb is less eventful, and we make it up in one piece.

Quinn grabs my hand the moment we make it to the top of the roof, which is about twenty-two stories up, and he pulls me toward the door. I let out a breath as it’s open, and we bolt down the stairs, two at a time.

The only sound is our feet pounding frantically on the steps, and our labored breaths, which are bouncing off the concrete walls. As I see the numbers on the walls decreasing as we descend, floor by floor, I tell my burning muscles it’s only a little further, and then this will all be over.

Finally, we get to the ground floor, both panting and puffing, but running on pure adrenalin.

Quinn opens the door cautiously, looking out through a sliver, and after a few seconds, he motions with his head that the coast is clear. We both walk out quickly, not wanting to draw too much attention to ourselves, as patrons are already looking at us strangely, probably appalled by our disheveled state.

Both our boots pound on the marbled floor and as the front door slips into view, I breathe out a premature sigh of relief, then a burly policeman steps out of nowhere and blocks the exit while talking into his walkie talkie. Quinn reaches for me, pulling me behind a wall, shielding me with his body.

“What are we going to do now?” I ask into his chest, panting loudly, as his heart pounds against my cheek.

Quinn doesn’t reply, he only peeks out from behind the wall, spying on the officer. He pulls back in, cursing under his breath.

“This is my fault. I’m so sorry, Red. I didn’t think the police would be onto us so soon.”

Pulling out of his embrace, I raise my eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

He only shakes his head and peeks back out to see if our exit is still blocked.

My heart is racing, and I feel my stomach churning. This is it. This is really it—but I’ll be damned if Quinn goes down with me. I try to shrug out of his hold, but his arms tighten around me.