Page 96 of Saving Sparrow
“Maybe the asshat makes his nightmares go away.” I didn’t know why I said it. Maybe as a test. Maybe to see the look Quentin gave me in return. It was a look I hadn’t seen before, and I’d seen all his looks, knew how to read him well. He turned back to the window, leaving me wondering…
“He watches us have sex, Quentin. We know at least once he got turned on.”
“Yeah, I know, but that time was out of his control. He hadn’t even touched himself.” He shrugged. “I just thought…”
“You thought what?”
“I thought it was a fluke. That he was different. That watching was all he needed, or something stupid like that.”
I sighed, running his words through my head. “You hoped it was a fluke. You hoped he was different. For all we know, it wasn’t the first or last time.”
“Huh?”
“That might not have been the first or last time he orgasmed, Quentin.”
Quentin turned his whole body to face me, his jaw nearly hitting the floor. “Are you saying he could already be fucking?”
“No, Quentin. Think. He just finished asking me how it felt. If he was already having sex, he’d know the answer to that.”
“Oh, right.”
“I’m saying that as much as we hate it, it’s not like he’s with us every second. Sometimes he needs a little time alone. Sometimes he hangs back in the shower after we leave. He uses the bathroom, and he stayed by the pool for a little while after we came up last night. He goes through the woods occasionally…”
The lightbulb went on behind Quentin’s eyes, and he glanced out the window again. “Why wouldn’t he just tell us he’s getting himself off? He could do that right here.” He seemed genuinely confused.
I grinned, cupping his cheeks when he turned back to me. As strong and capable as he was, he could be a ditzy teddy bear sometimes. I loved that about him. “Because sometimes people keep things for themselves, Q.”
“Q for quarterback,” he whispered, and I sighed, squeezing his head between my hands, not wanting it to swell any more than it had. Quentinkissed me, sucking on my bottom lip before releasing it. “I’m glad we don’t keep anything from each other, Guelly.”
I looked away, wishing that were true.
“Hey.” He lifted my chin. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” From the look on Quentin’s face, my smile looked as fake as it felt.
“What are you keeping from me?”
“I could ask you the same,” I said softly in return. Quentin said nothing, and I traced his top lip before tugging his bottom lip free from his teeth. Seemed neither of us was ready to go there yet.
I stepped away, and he grabbed my wrist, yanking me into his chest. “I’d die for you, Guelly.” His voice trembled. “I’d kill and die for you.” Pretty words weren’t his thing. Macabre declarations of his intrusive thoughts were his idea of romance.
“I love you, too, Quentin. I’ll never stop.” I made to walk away again, but he tugged me into a hard, heated kiss, tearing my shirt down the middle in the process.
I pulled away, staring into his scared, feral eyes. He knew that I knew—or that I at least suspected—and now he wanted to compensate for it. He wanted to quiet the fear screaming in his head by taking my body, by reminding himself that I was his. I needed to be reminded, too, because while I did a better job at hiding it, he wasn’t the only scared one in the room.
“Not now, Quen—”
He kissed me again, taking me to the floor and dragging my sweats off before using his bulk to cage me in. He pinned my wrists above me with one hand as he shoved the waistband of his own sweats down with the other. Spitting into his palm, he reached between us.
“I’m not in the mood,” I panted, bucking wildly beneath him.
He lowered his face to mine until his breath fanned my parted mouth. “Make me believe it, then watch me fuck you anyway.”
Miguel
Now
Sparrow watched me from across the table, seemingly grateful that I ended the story where I did. I left out the part where Quentin made love to me all night, both of us so caught up in our fear and pleasure we’d forgotten about Elliott. Made love was a kind way of putting it. In reality, Quentin had fucked me nonstop with an aggression that bordered on violence.
