Quin watched his brother look adoringly at his fiancé, Lily. He was happy for Tarq. Lily was good for him.
Best of all, Tarq had become less of a prick. Falling hopelessly in love had rounded his sharp edges and calmed his reckless spirit. Mostly.
An added bonus? There was now zero chance of Quin walking in on Tarq giving it hard to some office slut who made a move on him. Once was enough. A dozen times was unacceptable.
Tarq always argued it was the female who initiated, which made it alright. He also argued, if it got to a point where the interludes were not in the employee’s best interest, he would simply make them forget. Dumbass.
It didn’t matter to Quin that their family had the ability to erase unwanted memories from others, a benefit of being an immortal descendent of Peitho, the Goddess of Persuasion. It was still bad form.
Tarq used to be a Human Resources’ walking nightmare. Now he was like a tamed lion. He still fucked in his office, but it was always with Lily and she wasn’t employed by Shadow, Inc., so Quin took no issue with it.
Some part of Quin, a part he buried deep long ago, was envious of his brother’s relationship. It wasn’t always easy for him to observe the affectionate way they interacted.
He remembered the sweet taste of love.
He remembered how it felt to push inside a soft and willing body, thinking the poetic lines whispered in his ear were the purest truth he’d ever heard.
He remembered believing he had found his forever.
He also remembered the bitter taste of the bitch’s betrayal.
What a fool he’d been. Quin would never put himself in a position to be hurt again. It was why he preferred to fuck professionals.
Occasionally, he did sample some of Club Shadow’s fellow members, but only because they knew the score. Anyone joining a sex club wasn’t there to find the love of his or her life.
Quin sure as hell wasn’t interested in anything other than getting off.
After sitting here in the conference room with the lovebirds for over an hour, he was starting to feel restless. Only one thing usually subdued him when he got antsy, and it wasn’t something he could perform across the table from Tarq and Lily.
Well, he could, but shit would get weird real fast. He chuckled at the thought of how Tarq would react if Quin played some pocket pool in front of Lily.
Quin scratched at his five o’clock shadow. He needed to get laid, stat.
Immortals fed off energies from sex. When he went too long without it, he got cranky.
He checked his watch. Quin needed to be on his way. He had an appointment to keep. Thank the gods he’d had the foresight to call Amelia and schedule for this afternoon.
“I’ll see you both tomorrow,” he said.
“Later,” Tarq replied, his face attached to Lily’s lips.
She muttered something, too, but Quin was already out the door. He wasn’t interested in watching the two mouth-fuck.
Instead of calling his driver, he decided to drive his shiny, new Tesla. It was faster than the town car and he was in a hurry.
He walked briskly back to his desk, grabbed what he needed, and hauled ass to his car. Within five minutes, he was cruising down the highway, his erection straining against the teeth of his zipper.
The appendage was seriously starting to become a nuisance. More and more often, he was hit with quick and sudden bouts of overwhelming lust.
Sure, he was always up for a roll in the hay and had visitors in his suite every weekend. But now, especially over the course of the past few days, it seemed like he was horny pretty much from the time he woke up until he turned in for the night.
He didn’t know what was up, but Quin didn’t have the time or the inclination to visit the club every night.
Typically, he was only at Club Shadow on the weekends. This week, he’d been there every damned day. It was getting out of hand.
He fondled himself over the top of his pants, trying to get a little relief. Big mistake. His joystick only grew harder.
Fuck it. He’d take the edge off now.
Holding the steering wheel with his knees, he swiftly unfastened his belt and popped the button of his slacks. It took an effort to get the zipper lowered because of the bulkiness behind his boxer briefs.
Quin was a large man. It only made sense he’d have a hefty package.
He removed the handkerchief from his suit jacket and placed it on his thigh. He checked the car’s clock. He’d need to be quick.
With the rigidity of his member now at Defcon 5, it would probably only take a minute or two.
He lifted his hips slightly, just enough to get his underwear and pants below his nut sack. He rubbed the loose skin and gave it a little tug, pretending someone else’s hand was doing it for him.
He palmed his shaft, feeling the heavy weight of it. Rubbing one out now wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him, but it should help him hold out a little longer once the club employee got ahold of it.
Going for broke, he squeezed and fondled, starting at a fast pace right out of the gate. His goal was singular: come as fast as possible.
It wasn’t his usual style, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
As he pressed the accelerator with his foot, his pelvis jolted upwards, in short jabs, meeting his forceful strokes. His hand was going so fast, he was liable to injure the damned thing.
He breathed hard a few times, feeling the climax building. He was close.
Quin grabbed the handkerchief and covered the tip, careful to avoid sullying the interior of his baby.
“Fuck!” he hissed, coming inside the silk cloth.
Contraction after contraction launched his load into his covered hand. It felt nice, but it was lacking.
He patted around, cleaning up his mess. The silk cloth of the hankie was for sure ruined. Gods, he doubted he’d ever spewed so much semen in his life.
Having nowhere to put the rag, he tossed it onto the floorboard. He’d have to remember to throw it out later.
Perhaps he should keep a trash bin in the car now that his johnson had taken on a mind of its own. An endless supply of tissues would be helpful, too.
He rolled his eyes at himself and exited the highway.