“Almost?” I laughed, as a sense of giddiness took over.
“You can pluck the splinters out of my dick later.” Que shrugged, then pushed me back to study my eyes. “What’s going on, Rudolph?”
I wiped at my face, trying to recover from the emotional whiplash. “I can’t lose you, Quentin Laurent. Ever. Like fucking ever. I fucking love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to admit that to myself—but I see it now. I get it now. It’s always been you and me. I fucking love you, Thumper.”
“'Bout time, ice king,” he grumbled, but I could see the tears forming in his eyes too. “The thing is… it never really mattered. Because you’ve always been mine. I was just waitin’ for you to know I was yours too.”
I nodded, unable to find the words to express my relief. The rightness and completion. So, instead, I grabbed his beautifully stupid, perfect face and kissed him. Pulling back to add, “Fuck me.”
Que chuckled, stopping when he realized I was serious.
I rolled my jumpsuit and underwear down under my ass and started for his next.
“Oh, fuck! Okay… Are you sure? You want your first time to be… out here? In the dirt?”
“As opposed to a prison cell likeyouwanted?” I laughed. After the food fight that brought us together, I should have known the guy was a romantic.
Before Que could argue with me, I slid down his body, pressed myself between his thighs, grabbed his cock, and popped it into my mouth. It didn’t take him long to get filthy and wet—hell, the fucker was so worked up he nearly came down my throat.
I popped off him and climbed back up. Watching as he swished his saliva around his cheeks before hocking it ontohis fingers. Then he tugged me closer for a kiss, fucking my mouth with his tongue in time with the way his hand was fucking my ass.
This was as far as it ever went before. The one line I wouldn’t cross. I couldn’t explain the logic to anyone who wasn’t in my head. Why fucking a dude felt slightly less wrong than letting him fuck me. Or maybe it never had anything to do with wrong or right. Maybe it was because I knew that once I let him have that part of me, there was no turning back. There was no me without him. Even though that had always been the case anyway.
Once he felt I was good and ready, Que rolled us over. Gave his dick another glob of spit and pressed it against my ass. Pushing inside me at an excruciatingly slow pace.
“Hurry up and fuck me. I need to feel your come inside me. All of it. Don’t let a fucking drop escape, you understand?” I grunted, ignoring the burn and embracing the pleasure.
“Can’t help but top from the bottom, can ya, baby?” Que laughed before slamming all the way forward.
I didn’t have time to unpack that, because he was alreadythumpinginto me. Breaking my brain and my asshole. “Ah, fuck. Yes… Make me a bottom then. Show me why you should be the one in charge.”
Que met my challenge, dominating my asshole, my mouth, any part of me he could reach and touch and suck until I was spraying come all over his chest and abs. “Just like that, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come for me. Take it. Take this dick. Make it yours.”
And I did. I relaxed for once in my fucking life, laid back, and let go.
“Fuck yes! I’m coming! You feel so fucking good, baby.So fucking perfect,” Que grunted, his body spasming, and his smile wider than I’d ever seen it before. And I knew it was worth it. Giving this to him. Giving myself to him the way he had given himself to me a long time ago.
I even allowed myself to bask in the glow for a minute, reaching up a hand to brush the blonde hair from those bright-blue doe eyes. Dropping my arm back to my side as soon as I spotted the dried blood on my fingertips.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Que asked, immediately recognizing the shift in me.
I rolled him off my chest, tugged my clothes back into place, and jumped to my feet. Then I started pacing while digging a little one-sided path in the snow.
I didn’t even know how to explain it. So I didn’t.
“Prat’s dead,” I blurted out, my body racked with shivers that had nothing to do with the cold.
Que grabbed my hands and met my eyes. I didn’t remember him getting up. “What do you mean he’s dead?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That’s why I was running. He’s dead. He was killed. I was trying to get to you. To make sure she didn’t—” I knew I sounded crazy but if anyone would listen to what I had to say, crazy or not, it was this man in front of me. “And I think Nickie was the one who killed him.”
CHAPTER 32
PRAT
A FEW DAYS PRIOR
Freedom.My God…I gestured the sign of the cross over my chest.We were actually free.
