“Let’s do this,” I said to a bland stare.
His jaw clenched, muscles rippling. “I have to annotate the others.”
“Annotate them after you’re done with me, then,” I said, lowering myself to the mat.
Quinn stared down at me and swallowed. With a mutter and a grumpy expression, he straddled me, thighs gripping my sides tightly and hands firmly pressing my wrists to the mat.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“What’s up?” He shook his head and the blond tips of his hair glittered from the light above like a halo. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m frustrated.”
“Why?”
“You’re acting like nothing’s happened between us!”
“We jerked each other off. I liked it.” I shoved my hands up like he showed us; he collapsed with a warm, solid weight againstme and our noses bumped. “I didn’t realize it was mandatory to broadcast it the entire week.”
His gaze dipped to my lips. He looked poised to say something about that, and then shook his head. Instead he said, “This is the part where you’re meant to buck me off.”
“Yes. I just don’t want to.”
“God, Liam. What are you doing to me?” His lips tilted toward mine and then he huffed out a groan and rolled himself off.
He lay on his back a while, rubbing the heel of his palm on his forehead. “I always fall for the wrong damn guy.”
I frowned at that, and sat with my arms around my knees as he picked himself up off the floor and moved around the room, commenting on other partners. I tried to fish for his attention with long looks his way, but he wasn’t biting. He didn’t for the rest of the lesson.
Did it mean he needed more space? That I should find my own way home today?
After we finished, I grabbed my stuff, tucking my jacket tight to my neck and my hands deep into the relative warmth of my pockets. The streets were already dark outside, but at least there was a bright moon tonight.
Shadows from the trees made me jumpy, and I recalled our first self-defense lesson. I pulled my hands out of my pockets, straightened my shoulders and walked with purpose. Assertiveness.
It actually helped, even if it didn’t expel the visions of Freddy looming in the shadows.
A horn beeped, and I jumped, spinning toward it—
Quinn, driving his beat-up Toyota. The car crawled along next to me as he beckoned me in.
Though relatively confident I could make it home safely, itwascold, and a quick drive was by far more preferable.
I slipped inside and buckled in. Despite offering me the ridehome, Quinn didn’t seem to be in the mood for talking. Broody and silent the entire way, Quinn maintained his bad mood even once we’d made it inside and peeled off our outer layers.
I watched him mope into the kitchen and pour himself a drink. Deciding to leave him some alone time, I snuck silently down the hall, grabbed a towel from the linen cupboard, and jumped into the shower.
Water hit my back, warm and firm, like a much-needed massage. I picked up the soap and scrubbed myself clean. A knock at the bathroom door had me rubbing a clear circle on the fogged plastic door. Was Quinn bursting so hard he couldn’t wait? “Come in.”
He did. Through the plastic, Quinn was mostly an outline, blurred with color. But he didn’t stop at the toilet; he came right up to the door until I could see his features more than clearly.
Again, I wiped through the steam. “What do you want?”
“I want to be a bit more like you. Blunt and to the point.” The shower door opened, and Quinn, in his boxers and tank-top, stepped inside. “I liked what we did together last week.”
I moved back, offering him a shared part of the hot water. “I did too.”
Water sprayed over his chin and shoulders, clinging his tank-top to his chest and matting a few of the hairs that peeked over the top.
The lust of his gaze running slowly down the length of my body heated me up more than the hot water, and on instinct, I touched myself, blood rushing to my groin.
