Something Like Redemption (Something Like Normal #2) (30 page)

I have no idea what that means, but I’m not stupid, and I know he’s lying. I can see Quinn over Justin’s shoulder, watching our exchange closely, waiting to attack if I give him a sign that I’m in trouble. I subtly shake my head, as I’m not giving up just yet.

I decide to try another angle and begin fiddling with the coaster underneath my untouched beer. Justin picks up on my fidgeting and asks, “Everything okay?”

Looking up at him and faking the best innocent look I can muster without looking ridiculous, I say, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah? What’s up?” he asks, giving me his full attention.

Feeling the repulsion slide over my skin as I begin flirting, I purr, “You didn’t look too surprised when I told you… about my dad.”

Watching Justin under hooded lids, I look for any changes in facial expressions, mannerisms—anything. But he has the perfect poker face.

“Yeah, well, nothing you do surprises me, Mia Mouse,” he replies, leaning back into his chair confidently.

“What do you mean?” I ask, mentally crossing my fingers that I got him—hook, line and sinker.

“You were always a rule breaker,” he vaguely responds.

“Shooting my dad is a little more serious than breaking the rules. I mean, it’s breaking the law,” I reply, hoping to keep the bite out of my tone as I meet his challenging stare.

Justin scoots his chair closer to my left and I can clearly see Quinn still watching us from the bar. He looks like he’s seconds away from charging. Again, I subtly shake my head at him, as I’m sick of playing these back and forth games with Justin. I want answers.

“Mia, I’m sure you had a good reason, right? I mean, we do everything for a reason. And at the time, shooting your dad was the right thing to do. I’m not here to judge you… I got my own demons to deal with. I can’t pass judgment on others.”

Jackpot.

“What demons?” I question, reaching forward and lightly resting my clammy palm over his clenched fist.

“Ah, a man’s gotta have some secrets,” Justin says, leaning forward, his lips inches from my ear. “And besides, I don’t think your
boy
would appreciate me telling you my deepest, darkest secrets.” He nuzzles forward, smelling my hair.

Quinn takes two furious steps forward, but I gesture with my hand for him to stop, beseeching him with my eyes for him to allow me to handle this. He clenches his jaw, and his nostrils flare in pure rage, but he does as I ask.

“He’s just someone to have fun with,” I whisper, the words feeling like venom as they pass through my lips.

Justin’s breathing accelerates, and as his warm, desperate breath heats my exposed neck, I have to stop myself from throwing up.

“He looks as if he wants to have more than ‘just fun’ with you,” he spits, his lips still inches from ear as he burrows into my neck.

“Not my problem,” I whisper, my gaze never leaving Quinn’s.

“Really?” he says, pulling back. I meet his predatory stare.

“Really. He’s just a friend.” I confirm with a nod.

“Prove it.” Justin smirks, running a hand over his lips and resting his fingers on his chin, deep in thought.

“How?” I question, suddenly not liking where this is headed.

“Come to my room tonight when your
friend
is asleep, and I’ll tell you what I know,” Justin says, his pierced eyebrow cocked, daring me to accept his challenge.

“So you did know? How? And what do you know?” I ask, kicking my ass when the desperation laces my questions.

Justin tsks me, placing his pointer finger under my chin, meeting my eyes. “You come tonight and I’ll tell you everything.”

Trying not to retch, I give him my best seductive smile and nod. “Tonight it is then.”

***

“No. Fucking. Way!” Quinn hisses, his hands threaded through his snarled hair.

“Quinn—” I press, but he cuts me off, storming over to the edge of the bed where I’m tying up my Chucks.

“No fucking way, Red. You hear me? No.”

This conversation has gone on for the past hour, and looking over at the clock, I dare say it’ll continue on through the early hours of the morning.

Once we arrived back at the hotel, Justin drunkenly swayed into his room, tossing me a small wink over his shoulder as he shut his bedroom door behind him. As I filled Quinn in on what Justin proposed, the room got smaller and smaller with his enraged wrath. He dragged me into our bedroom, where we have remained, arguing the pros and cons of Justin’s proposition.

Goes without saying which side Quinn is arguing for.

“I’m not going to do anything with him,” I repeat for the umpteenth time. “I’m just going to talk to him without you loitering and threatening to beat down on him like Rocky Balboa!”

Quinn laughs angrily, pointing toward the door. “You think that asshat has any information? He’s just playing you, Red. He doesn’t know jackshit.”

“You don’t know that!” I retort, standing up.

“Yes, I do. He’s full of shit, and he can smell your desperation. He’ll tell you anything you want to get into your pants!”

I’ve seen Quinn angry before, but this, this is taking it to the next level of angry.

“You really think I would stoop to that? I would NEVER do that!” I hiss, trying to keep my voice down.

Quinn’s eyes soften as he takes a step forward. “I know you wouldn’t, but he—he would. He’s a guy, Red, and he’s a guy who has a raging hard on for you. And that makes him a dangerous guy who would do anything—anything, to get what he wants.”

“Oh please, you think I’m stupid? I can take care of myself!”

I’m livid, but I know what Quinn is saying makes sense. It’s just if Justin knows anything that might help us out in regards to my father, then I’m willing to make a sacrifice. Quinn will be in the next room, and I know he’ll have my back if anything goes wrong.

“Oh, really?” Quinn asks, and suddenly, the room heats up with the look of wild possession in his emerald eyes.

“So what happens if he asks you to kiss him?”

“What?” I gasp, taking a retreating step away from the slowly moving predator that is Quinn.

“You heard me. What if the terms of him divulging this alleged information is on the proviso of him kissing you.”

Gulping, I shakily reply, “I would tell him to go to hell.”

Quinn licks his bottom lip, snickering. “Would you?”

“Of course,” I affirm, still walking backward because suddenly, I feel like prey.

Quinn shakes his head, his tousled locks veiling his eyes. “You see, Red, I think your intentions are innocent, but if he gives you an inch, that won’t be enough, and I think you would do almost anything to get him to talk.”

What is Quinn implying? Whatever it is, I don’t like it.

“I would never,” I say, insulted he would insinuate something so vulgar.

“Wouldn’t you?” he questions, and as the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed, I fall, losing my balance.

Attempting to scramble up the bed proves futile as Quinn crawls down on top of me, trapping my body under his massive frame.

“Get off,” I snarl, thumping my fists onto his chest, which is laughable, as they probably feel like tickles rasping against his muscular frame.

“I plan to,” Quinn smirks hungrily, his gaze dropping to my chest as my black camisole has shifted, exposing the top of my breasts.

“Quinn, I’m serious!” I huff, but that huff transforms into a gasp when he bites me on the chin—hard.

“Stop,” I pathetically plead, because my disloyal body, which is writhing underneath Quinn, is demonstrating otherwise.

“You don’t mean that,” Quinn mutters as he sucks and licks and nibbles my neck.

“Yes, I… do,” I bite back breathlessly as his hands begin a slow, torturous journey of my body. All the while, his lips never leave my skin, making contact with any part of exposed, heated flesh he can find.

Closing my eyes, I tell myself five more minutes, and then I’ll fight him off and go see Justin, but as he circles my ripe nipple through the soft cotton on my top, I know five minutes isn’t going to be long enough.

That familiar heat builds in my center, and my traitorous body has ruled over my mind, because I know Quinn is doing this as a distraction. Quite frankly, I couldn’t care less.

“Beautiful,” Quinn whispers against my arched throat, licking down my neck and lazily tonguing the dip between my collarbones.

My legs scissor impatiently, and Quinn removes his hand from my peaked nipple, gliding his fingers to the waistband of my jeans. My camisole has ridden up, exposing my tummy, and Quinn circles his finger around my bellybutton.

I’m panting, trying to remain quiet, but as Quinn flicks open the button on my jeans, I whimper loudly, knowing what’s about to come.

I hear the bedside table drawer open, and my eyes pop open, wondering what he’s searching for inside.

“Sshh, I’ll take care of you. Close your eyes,” Quinn whispers, kissing my temple.

Nodding, my eyes drift shut, and Quinn’s fingers begin sliding down my zipper, stopping about three-quarters of the way.

I want him inside my pants, and I arch my hips up, urging him to oblige.

“So impatient.” He chuckles, and his warm breath tickles my heated chest.

Quinn softly places my arms above my head, and before I can question what he’s doing, I feel the cold bite of steel snagging my wrists, and hear the unmistakable click of handcuffs being snapped into place.

My eyes pop open, and I arch my neck backward to see that my wrists are tightly bound to the golden framed bedhead.

“What the?” I gasp, pulling on my wrists, which don’t budge an inch. “Quinn, let me go,” I say, pulling harder on the cuffs, which just rattle under the force.

“No can do,” Quinn replies as he pushes off me before I have a chance to bite or kick him.

As I meet his amused eyes, I know I’ve been played. “You bastard.” I sigh, annoyed that I didn’t see this coming.

Quinn and I are just as stubborn as one another, and he knew that I would go to Justin, because eventually, Quinn would have to sleep. I also know that he never meant all the crass things he said, and I breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Well, good to know you don’t think I’m a slut,” I say with a bitter scowl.

Quinn chuckles. “I said what I had to, to get what I wanted. Not my fault you fell for it.” He winks.

Looking down at his black jeans, I realize his little ploy has turned us both on. Licking my lips, it’s time to get even.

“Well, the least you can do is finish me off,” I say, huffing my loose hair off my face.

“Nope, I think you can just remain cuffed to the bed, thinking about what you did,” he playfully scolds, like he’s reprimanding a child.

“Really?” I ask, my accelerated breathing pushing out my chest, and I don’t miss the way Quinn’s eyes flicker with interest as he watches my breasts rise with each intake of breath.

“I think you would much rather punish me.” My gaze drops to his throbbing erection. “I mean, you were the one who said you liked me being submissive. And what’s more submissive than me cuffed to your bed, a hair’s breadth away from coming in my pants at how fucking hot you are when you go all alpha male?” I wriggle my hips because my hands may be cuffed, but my legs are not.

“What are you doing?” Quinn asks with a hiss when my jeans begin shimmying lower, exposing my aqua lace underwear.

I don’t answer him and just continue wriggling, hoping I can yank my underwear down a fraction lower to tempt Quinn back onto the bed. Thankfully, it works, and he places a knee onto the edge of the mattress, lowering himself down onto my needy body.

“Kiss me,” I whisper under hooded eyes, gasping when I feel his nipple ring press through the light cotton of his t-shirt.

Quinn complies, inching his lips toward mine, and when he’s within reach, I rear up… and I bite his lip ring, hard.

“Uncuff me,” I mutter from around his lip, but Quinn only laughs in response, which infuriates me.

Therefore, I bite harder, sucking his piercing deep into my mouth, my sharp teeth biting into his fleshy lip.

This situation is beyond ridiculous, but I won’t let go, and Quinn seems unfazed that his lip is fixed firmly between my teeth. So I guess that means we’ll just have to stay this way—forever.

My neck is beginning to cramp at the angle I’m in, and although I can’t see Quinn’s face, I know he’s currently smirking his ass off.

“Uncuff me,” I murmur again, tugging harder on his piercing, and this time, I taste blood.

The only response I get is Quinn’s hips shifting off my body, and his hand slipping in between us—shit.

I attempt to move my hips, but Quinn is too fast as he shoves one hand down my underwear while the other hand roughly pushes my jeans down my legs. The moment his fingers touch my bare flesh, I know I’m going to lose.

There’s no foreplay as he inserts a long finger into my hungry body, and instead of crying out, I just bite harder into his lip. I’m going to try and hold out as long as I can, which won’t be long, as his other hand slides under my camisole, palming my breast.

When he thrusts the bra cup down, pinching my nipple between his thumb and forefinger while inserting another digit into my core, I scream and his lip pops free, but I don’t care as I’m about five seconds away from coming.

Sadly, Quinn has other plans as his fingers slow inside of me, but they never leave the sanctum of my body.

He’s going to make me beg.

His glorious, impassioned face meets mine. I groan as he looks overcome with passion and desire—for me. Lifting my hips, hoping to get faster friction proves unsuccessful, as Quinn only chuckles at my hormonal misery.

“Beg me.”

“Never,” I stubbornly spit, the cuffs rattling against the headboard as I yank on them, hoping they will miraculously snap free.

A dimple hugs Quinn’s cheek, and my eyes drop to his bloodied, swollen lip. Instead of feeling remorse, I smile, relishing in the fact that I have marred him. This overwhelming, animalist claim I have over him has a fever burning in my core and Quinn knows it.

“You will.” He smirks. I gasp as he adds a third finger, stretching me further than I thought humanly possible.