Something Like Redemption (Something Like Normal #2) (21 page)

Luckily it works, and Quinn jumps up, startled, eyes wide, trying to place where he is and if the dream was real.

I know that feeling all too well.

“Red?” he croaks, still half asleep, his eyes landing on me.

“Yes, it’s me. I just woke you up, you were dreaming,” I say softly, brushing his hair off his damp brow.

“I was?” he asks, taken aback.

“Yes. Can you remember what you were dreaming about?” I ask, my hand still lingering over his face.

By the way his cheeks turn a ghastly white, I know he does, but I won’t push. He meets my worried eyes, and slowly nods.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I softly invite, my hand resting on his stubbled cheek.

Quinn shakes his head slowly and I let it go.

“Okay, but if you ever change your mind, I’m here. Nothing you ever tell me will change anything between us,” I reply, giving him a small smile.

“I know, Red. Thank you.” He leans forward, kissing me softly.

It’s meant to be an innocent, chaste kiss, but my body takes that as an open invitation to maul him.

As usual, the moment I feel his mouth on mine I pounce on him, crawling onto his lap, wanting to close any physical space between us. Quinn moans in the back of his throat as I run my tongue over his lower lip, sucking his piercing into my eager, hungry mouth.

I’m like a starved animal as I claw at his shirt, desperate to get underneath to feel his warm, bare skin. When I do, we both groan at the contact. Whether it’s the dire circumstances of our situation, or the fact I always want Quinn, I’m so turned on, I am embarrassingly panting in need.

As I begin rubbing on Quinn’s lap, my thin jeans don’t provide much of a buffer, and I can feel him hardening under me. I can’t help but remember how he felt in my mouth, against my tongue, and the way he tasted. I want it again.

Quinn pulls his lips away and thumbs my pouty bottom lip. “You fucking drive me crazy,” He shifts his hand between us, unsnapping my button and slipping a hand inside my jeans.

I whimper the moment he bypasses my underwear and goes straight in for the kill, rubbing me between my wet folds. In this small space with nowhere to go, I lean backward, my hips arching into his knowledgeable fingers as he easily slides one inside of me.

I grunt out his name, my knees quivering either side of his thighs as I’m half straddling, half sitting on him. But he makes it work by wrapping an arm around my waist to steady me, and his other hand stretches me further by adding another finger inside of my aching flesh. I slap my hands behind me, using the dash as extra leverage to pump my hips onto his torturous fingers.

Tasting my approaching climax, my hips drive forward forcefully. Quinn is relentless, never breaking his punishing rhythm.

As I gaze into his beautiful green eyes, watching him nibble on his hoop, the arousal evident on his flushed cheeks, I don’t stand a chance and detonate around his fingers. My scream tears from my throat, which Quinn catches between his lips as he smashes his mouth to mine, kissing me fiercely.

Screaming into his mouth, which comes out muffled and breathless, the convulsions rock my body long after I have exploded. Our eyes never lose connection, and watching him watch me come apart was the reason I set off so quickly.

I mewl in satisfaction as each orgasm just keeps getting better and better.

Quinn slides his fingers out of me. Instantly I miss him being inside. As he places his fingers inside of his mouth, the same two fingers that were inside of me, I whimper and turn a bright shade of pink.

“Mine. Every part of you is mine.”

I’m stunned by his confession, and do the only thing I can do. I throw my arms around his neck and promise to never let go.

***

My back is aching because something sharp is digging into my spine, causing me to contort at an angle that can’t possibly be good for me, but I don’t care, because I’m wrapped in the arms of Quinn Berkeley.

I must have fallen asleep as it’s now daylight, and I don’t remember much after I clung to him like a spider monkey, never letting go.

We’re pretty much nose to nose, lying along the bench seat, arms and legs entwined. I wonder how on earth do I tell him that I think I’m falling in love with him?

Just the thought of telling him has my heart pounding against my chest, but not because I’m afraid of him knowing. No. I’m afraid if I tell him, the feelings won’t be reciprocated. What if I’m just a naive, nineteen year old, hopeless romantic, who thinks she’s in love with the first guy who got her off?

“Mornin’,” Quinn says huskily, his green eyes slipping open, stunning me with their vibrancy. “What time is it?” he croaks, rubbing one eye and brushing his lengthy hair from his brow.

I shrug, in awe of how someone can look this hot when they first wake up; as I’m sure I’m rocking a killer bird’s nest.

“I’m not sure. Sometime after dawn,” I finally reply, telling myself to stop staring.

Quinn smirks and runs a hand through my hair. “You sleep okay?” he asks

I nod. “Perfect.” I don’t add, ‘because I was in your arms,’ but from the smile tugging at his lips, I’m pretty sure he can read my thoughts.

“We should get moving,” he says, and he’s right, because last night’s stop was an impromptu one.

“Sure. I gotta use the bathroom before we go,” I say, thankful I saw restrooms when I pulled in last night.

Quinn nods, letting out another yawn. “I’ll come with you.”

I’m about to protest, but he adds, “Don’t know what kind of country bugs are out here, hiding under the seats.”

I blanch and nod quickly, not eager to face these country bugs on my own.

“C’mon, boy,” I call out to Lucky, who’s lying on the floor looking up at us, also desperate to make a pit stop.

The cold breeze slaps me in the face, as it’s been quite cold in the South this winter. Being from L.A. where we don’t get cold winters, I understand why people go nuts and celebrate the whole White Christmas thing. It would be magical playing in the snow and waking up to a real pine tree and eggnog on Christmas morning.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Quinn asks as we walk toward the restrooms, hand in hand.

“About Christmas,” I confess, turning to look at him shyly.

“Oh shit, it’s December already,” he says, stunned Christmas is just around the corner, as we’ve had other pressing issues to deal with—like not dying.

“Yeah. I was thinking about how I get the whole White Christmas thing. It would be nice sitting around an open fire, the smell of fresh pine needles engulfing the house while opening presents with loved ones,” I reply, lost in a fantasy.

“You’re big on Christmas then?” Quinn asks, ducking so he doesn’t walk into a branch.

Tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, I shyly confess, “I’ve never really celebrated it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was too busy playing Santa on Christmas morning, dealing a different kind of snow to crackheads to worry about anything else.”

Quinn nods, biting his lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s fine. You can’t miss what you’ve never had, right?” I say, trying to sound blasé.

Quinn squeezes my hand softly and we walk to the restrooms in silence.

Once we reach the bricked bathroom wall, Quinn smiles as he watches me chew my lip, thinking of all the bugs that may be hiding inside. “I’ll take Lucky, be back in five.”

I nod and watch him leave.

The bathroom is horrible, and I actually think a family of raccoons live under the basin. So I’m in and out in under a minute. I splash some water on my cheeks and think about my conversation with Quinn.

Will we still be on the run at Christmas? New Year’s? Independence Day? When will this end? We really need to get in contact with Abi, as we need a plan of attack asap.

Throwing the paper towel into the trash, I try to tame my hair, as it looks like I’m slowly forming dreadlocks. I run my fingers through it, pulling out a bobby pin from my backpack and pinning back a piece of my hair.

I look tired and worn, and I can’t believe Quinn still finds me attractive when I look such a mess.

“Hey, you’re Mia’s friend.”

My ears prick up when I hear the muted male voice just outside, obviously addressing Quinn.

“Yup, and you’re Justin,” Quinn replies calmly.

Justin? As in Justin Miller? What is
he
doing out here?

“Yeah, good memory, bro. What brings you guys out here?” Justin asks. I can almost hear Quinn’s jaw clenching from here.

I know this won’t end well, so I quickly bolt out of the bathroom, and as I turn to go outside, I fall into a casual step, not wanting to appear suspicious.

“Fancy seeing you here,” I say with a rigid smile as I approach the two boys.

Quinn has his arms crossed, giving Justin serious stink eye, while Justin looks as if he’s just won the lottery. “This must by my lucky week.” He gives me a big hug.

I awkwardly hug him back, looking at an extremely unimpressed Quinn.

I pull away, trying not to offend him, but this is not good timing, and it’s also not safe for him. He’s in danger of being caught up in all my bullshit, and also in danger of being beaten to a pulp by Quinn.

“So… what are you guys doing here?” Justin asks, looking at me with a smile.

“Just a road trip,” I reply vaguely, toying with a stone under my boot.

Silence.

Quinn and Justin are sizing one another up, and I don’t like the look on both their faces as they’re not exactly hiding the fact they both dislike one another—a lot.

“What are you doing here?” Quinn questions, his head cocked to the side.

Justin looks at Quinn, his eyes narrowing. “Just stopping to use the restroom, pure coincidence bumping into you,” he replies smugly.

Quinn scoffs, not believing a single word. “Uh huh.”

I’ve got to put a stop to this macho bullshit before they pull out their dicks and measure whose is bigger.

“We better hit the road, Quinn,” I suggest, grabbing his arm, which remains solidly crossed.

Okay, moving him is going to be an issue. “Quinn?” I question.

He slowly takes his eyes off Justin, looking down at me. I give him big eyes, hoping he can read my facial charades, but he only smirks at me.

“Yeah sure, you’re right,” he thankfully replies while reaching for my hand, and I don’t miss Justin’s eyes drop to our connection.

“Catch ya later, Justin. It was nice seeing you again,” I say, while trying to drag Quinn away.

“You too, Mia,” he replies. “Hey, what’s your ride?” he asks randomly.

That has me stopping in my tracks as I look at Quinn, wondering why Justin would ask such a strange question.

But he clarifies. “The reason I ask is because there are a couple of cops checking out a black Chevy parked near the highway.”

I feel my face ashen as I squeeze Quinn’s hand in dread.

“Just wondering if it was yours, that’s all,” Justin says innocently.

Shit, we shouldn’t have stopped. If I wasn’t so needy and all but molested Quinn, we would be miles away by now.

Justin looks at me and a big smile passes over his amused face. “Are you causing trouble again, Mia Lee?”

Shrugging as casually as I can, considering the predicament we’re in, I give him a small smile and reply, “What can I say, Justin? Trouble seems to follow wherever I go.”

Quinn looks calm, while I’m borderlining on a full blown panic attack.

“If you guys like, I can give you a ride? I’m headed for Canada. I’m not sure where you’re headed, but I’d love the company,” Justin says, and I wonder what the hell he’s doing in the South if he’s headed for Canada.

I look at Quinn who shakes his head, his long hair slipping into one narrowed eye.

“No, we’re good,” he stubbornly says.

My eyes widen. What’s he doing? We need wheels!

“Okay, well, I’m just going to use the restroom, the offer still stands if you change your mind. Catch you around, Mia,” he says, stepping forward to give me a hug.

Quinn still has my hand and isn’t letting go, so I awkwardly give him a one handed hug.

“See you, Justin.”

He gives me a warm smile before taking off.

As soon as he’s out of hearing range, I shake my hand out of Quinn’s, spinning around to face him.

“Quinn, we have to go with him.”

“Over my dead body,” he replies, glaring at Justin’s back.

“What about the police?” I whisper. “We can’t steal another car because they’re onto us, and are no doubt just waiting for us to fuck up and hotwire another so they can track us. Hitching a ride with Justin makes sense, as we can evade the police by riding with him. Just until we’re far enough away from here, then we’ll part ways. It’s the only option we have right now,” I say, pleading with him to see reason on this.

Quinn’s jaw clenches, his livid eyes meeting mine. “If we ride with him, I quite possibly may kill him,” he replies. I have no doubt he means every word.

Raising an eyebrow, I stupidly question, “What’s your problem with Justin?”

Quinn laughs, but in no way is it a happy sound. “I don’t even know where to start, but let’s just say if he so much as looks at you like he’s fantasizing about you naked, I’ll murder him without a second thought,” Quinn says.

My mouth falls open into an ‘O.’ He’s jealous. Why does that thought make me combust?

“Quinn, listen to me.” I take a step toward him and place a palm on his cheek. “I’m yours.” My brutal honesty is needed because we’re running out of time. “So push aside that huge ego, because we’re doing this.”

I’m not sure if it’s my determination or honesty, but Quinn finally nods.

“Fine. But I meant what I said.”

I smile up at him, kissing him on the lips.

“I know.”

Chapter 18

Directions