Page 44 of Wicked Waters

I withdrew from her, and when she opened her eyes, I gave her a dirty grin and took my time licking the evidence of her arousal from my fingers while she tracked my movements through blown-out, glassy pupils.

“Your turn,” she whispered, her hand going to my sweatpants, where the head of my dick was straining against the fabric, a fucking wet patch there showing just how ruined I was by her already. Her thumb rubbed against it.

My breath caught in my throat. “Don’t fucking tease me. You’ve got me so fucking worked up. It’s not gonna take much.”

Biting down on her lip, unsuccessfully trying to hide just how pleased she was by my words, she curled her fingers around the band of my sweatpants. Together, we tugged them down. I hadn’t bothered with underwear—there was no point when I knew, or hoped, exactly how this night was going to play out—and I groaned with relief as my dick was freed from its confines, rock hard and erect, foreskin rolled back, precum fucking everywhere from how turned on I was by her.

Because my girl liked to make me suffer, she danced her fingers down my length, cupping my balls and gently tugging them. My dick jerked, dripping precum, and I clenched my fists, taking deep, deliberate breaths. I was not going to come from fucking nothing. I had stamina, for fuck’s sake.

Except Quinn curled her fingers around the base of my erection with a much firmer grip, playing with my balls with her other hand, and then she stroked up my cock. Once. When her hand was at the top, she twisted it over my sensitive, exposed head and at the same time pressed a finger against my perineum. I shot like a fucking rocket. No joke.

“Holy fuck,” I breathed as she stroked me through it, my dick pulsing in her hand, my cum decorating the formerly pristine interior of my car. When I remembered how to breathe again, I yanked her into me, slamming my mouth down on hers. “You. Are. Fucking. Incredible,” I ground out between kisses, and she kissed me back just as roughly, none of us caring about the mess, just needing this connection between us.

After we’d managed to disentangle our bodies and clean ourselves up, I glanced over at her kiss-swollen lips and blissed-out expression and smiled.

“I can tell you now, hand on heart, that I’ve never been that turned on from a hand job. If you ever tell anyone I came that fast, I’ll… Fuck, just don’t tell anyone. It’s embarrassing.”

Quinn laughed, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “It’s not embarrassing. I liked it. Anyway, you made me come almost as quickly, and you were on the edge for a lot longer than I was.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said as I started up the engine. “Still, no one else needs to know about it.”

“They never will. So. Are you going to tell me why we stopped here?”

The car swung back onto the main road, and I glanced both ways before directing it back the way we’d originally come. “It’s nowhere special. Tristan’s relatives own the land. They own a lot of it around here. We come here in the summer sometimes when we want to get away from everyone without any risk of someone showing up. There’s a stream with a rope swing farther down and a big hollow oak tree. Tristan used to play here as a kid, and he said I could use it tonight. It’s… I know it’s not much, just a dark field, but I wanted to stop somewhere I knew we’d be properly alone. I don’t want to risk fucking anything up for you, Quinn. I couldn’t live with myself.”

“I trust you.” She placed her hand on my leg, squeezing lightly. “It might be nice to come back here in the daylight sometime.”

“We can do that.” I slowed for the roundabout again and then headed in the direction of the lookout point where we were meeting Tristan and Aria. The roads were still silent and empty for the most part, and it gave me the chance to relax and enjoy the feel of my powerful machine effortlessly eating up the miles. “Going back to the discussion we were having before we stopped, I don’t want you to have to worry about anything, okay? Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. No one can fuck with us and expect to escape unscathed. It’s all gonna work out. Even if it does mean you have to be seen with Tristan once or twice.” My jaw clenched. I still hated the thought of anyone else touching her, even if it was for show.

“Okay. I’m sorry to keep bringing it up. I’ll…I’ll stay positive. Or try to.”

“That’s my girl.” Shooting her a grin, I flipped on the indicator, turning into the entrance of the lookout point. “Keep an eye out for Tristan’s car. He should be parked up here somewhere.”

“Why did Tristan come, anyway?” she asked, scanning the tree line.

“You’d arranged to do something with Aria. Then we were joining you—I dunno if she told you that part. My car’s only a two-seater, and I didn’t want you to miss out on quality time with your friend, so Tristan got to play chauffeur.”

“It’s a bit risky for the head boy, isn’t it?”

I laughed. “Believe me, if he really thought there was a risk, he would’ve done his best to talk me out of this. Deep down, he likes the sense of adventure. And getting to spend quality time with Aria.” Smirking, I thought of just how pissed off he’d be after forty minutes stuck alone with her.

“Oh, I bet they both loved it.” Quinn smirked as well, rubbing her hands together like a little evil villain, and yeah, that was one of the reasons right there that I lov—liked her.

Liked her.

Yeah.

Not the other thing.

It was too soon to be thinking about that, wasn’t it?

25

QUINN

I’d forgotten what the whole gods-and-goddesses campaign was like. When I’d campaigned the first time when I was younger, it had been something new and exciting. Now, though, it seemed like it was taking up precious time that I needed to spend studying or even hanging out with my friends…not to mention my stolen moments with Roman. So many stolen moments. We’d become even closer than we had been the first time around. I couldn’t believe how quickly it had happened, but at the same time, it felt inevitable. He’d always known me so well. Our connection now was solid, growing deeper and stronger every day.

The campaign itself had officially begun with posters of the potential candidates being plastered all around the school, as well as on the school intranet and our various group chats. We’d all had to submit a campaign video—non-negotiable. Some people—Freya, Penelope, Tristan, and a few of the others—had actually booked professional videographers to put together aesthetic montage videos of themselves, complete with music and slo-mo clips. I’d been with Elena when the first one was revealed, and her jaw had dropped, complete with disbelieving head shaking. I couldn’t blame her. People here went over the top. Very over the top.

---