Crashing: The Wedding
One
The door slammedbehind us as we staggered into my tiny apartment. Grabbing Quinn’s wrist, I pulled him into the kitchen, sporadic giggles leaping into the air from my throat as I tried not to fall face first onto the porcelain. “So, when you walked into that restaurant, what was your first reaction?”
Our lips sloppily crashed together as I swung the fridge open to grab a couple beers. “Honestly?” He pulled away to help twist open the bottles, his husky voice dripping with seduction as his tongue gently glided over his bottom lip. “I was shocked. This is the first blind date I’ve been on that the chick wasn’t a complete ogre.” Quinn’s words slurred a bit from the after dinner shots we’d taken right before I’d gotten the great idea to bring a complete stranger to my flat.
In all seriousness, he wasn’t physically my type—short black hair, light brown eyes, cute dusting of freckles over his cheeks, broad shoulders, and just about six feet tall—but he was drop dead gorgeous. I hadn’t thought Vero was telling me the truth about how hot this guy was, but I had to hand it to my co-bartender—she was right. Even so, he was for sure not someone I would bring home to mom. He’d dripped with douchebaggery from head to toe from the very moment we’d met; all he could do was stare at my tits, which, to be fair,werepopping out of my little black number. It had been so long since I had dated anyone, I figured,why the hell not?
I slid up onto the counter, sipping from the brown bottle. “This was my first blind date.”
Quinn’s hand landed on my hip as he stumbled a bit to press himself onto the counter right between my legs. “Oh yeah?” His hot breath landed on my cheek before a slobbery kiss planted itself slowly. “How do you think it’s going?”
We were both clearly way too drunk to be in any shape to let the date continue, but drunk-asses do dumb-ass things most of the time. “Pretty well? I guess. I really didn’t know what to expect.”
“Well, I am having a marvelous time.” The long sleeves of his light green button-down were rolled up, showing two forearms covered in gorgeous tattoos. They were collages of everything from musical instruments to sugar skulls.
“What are all those for?” I playfully rolled my fingertips down his arm, seductively biting my lower lip.
Quinn looked down. “I’m a stagehand for bands when they come into town. I work at a few venues in the area. I freaking love what I do. I have an interview with Regicide Assisted next week to be their head roadie.”
Not the answer I was expecting.Quinn’s hotness went from an eight to a freaking ten in two seconds flat.
“I’ve never heard of Regicide Assisted before. Any good?”
Quinn’s lips twisted into a lazy smile. “They’re one of the best all-female bands of all time. Their drummer, Fallon Dunbar, is a freaking beast. You’ll hear of them sooner than later. Mark my words, those chicks are going places.”
“Sounds amazing.” I brushed our lips together. My primal desires spiked and it was time to stop delaying the inevitable. Hopping off the counter, I grabbed Quinn’s hand. “Let’s get a little more comfortable. Shall we?”
I left a trail of clothes behind, waggling my hips as I made my way over to my couch. Quinn took the hint and quickly followed suit. Within a matter of seconds we were naked on the soft dark leather beneath my favorite blanket, making out like a couple high schoolers under the bleachers.
Quinn’s bulge pressed uncomfortably into my stomach. Shifting, I grabbed his thickness to stroke it, rolling my thumb over the head gently and playing with the pre-come that had bubbled up at the tip. Kissing down my neck, Quinn moaned. “Fuck yeah. That feels so good, babe.”
Without any finesse or warning, Quinn’s fingers roughly filled me, making me cry out.
“Like that, baby?”
How could he think that would ever possibly feel good?
I ignored it and decided to hope he would get that I wasn’t moaning for a reason. After a few pumps and odd flicks, he finally pulled out and started to lightly rub my clit.
I shifted more to start to position myself to take his length into my mouth when I was met with a shot of warm gooey terribleness right in the face, eye, and hair.
“What the hell?” I shot up and yelled, feeling my hair mat to the side of my face. I grabbed his shirt from the floor and wiped my eye and cheek.
“It’s been a while.” He shrugged and tried to kiss me again.
“I think that ship has sailed, scooter. You came in my fucking hair!” I hastily put my jeans and tank top back on and chugged the rest of my beer.
“I think I should go?” Quinn pulled away from me, rolling off the couch to start throwing on his clothes. A big splooge stain was smeared down the right side of his button-down, under his armpit.
I couldn’t have been more relieved. “If you think that’s for the best.” I tried to fake a puppy dog face, but the smirk that perked up my lips was too hard to stifle. We both knew that his performance had been a horrifyingly hysterical event, that I was dying to tell everyone about it in the morning, and that we were never going to see each other again.
“I’ll call you?” He glanced up at me as he slipped on his dress shoes. I pulled the blanket off the couch and around my shoulders to walk him out.
Why was that even a question? Fuck no!
“Sure.” I followed him to the front door and caught myself cringing as he leaned in for one last quick peck before he was out of my life.
