22
QUINN
“It All Started with a Beer” by Frankie Ballard
- -
“You’re so pretty, sister!” I scream over the music at Leigh as she twirls around the dance floor at the Dam Bar, the two of us in our own little circle as we continue to dance the night away.
Her hands whip above her head and she starts to shake them to the Luke Bryan song playing, her blond hair long since having fallen from the braid I had worked so hard to make now in her face as she puffs out her cheeks and blows over and over to get it out of her eyes. Reaching out—being the great friend that I am—I start to pat it away but end up hitting her softly a few times and only making it worse.
“You got butter hands.” She giggles, laughing even harder when I start shaking both my hands in the air.
“You’re my sister!” I scream, remembering why I’m so happy.
“Yay!” she shouts, and we start flailing about the room.
“Can I have my niece now?!” I yell and turn to sneer at Savannah West when she bumps into me. I never did like that tramp.
“Depends if I can get mine,” Leigh calls back, still shaking her hips to the music. I can’t believe she didn’t even see the way that Savannah Stupid Slut West just looked at us. Whatever. Wait a minute. What did she just say?
“What did you say?” I gasp, trying to help my brain swim through all the beer I’ve consumed tonight so that I can understand her.
“You want a niece, well so do I.” She confirms what I thought I heard.
“You’re crazy! I’m not gettin’ knocked up, no matter how much I love Tate’s huge, sexy penis.”
“You’re not supposed to call it a penis,” Leigh scolds, her giggles ruining her attempt at being serious.
“Why? That’s what it is.”
She comes closer, wobbling, wraps both arms over my shoulders, and pulls me so close our noses are touching. Her eyes as wide as mine feel as she tries to focus on me from up close.
“Because they like you to call it a cock so they feel all big and badass man about it.”
“Ahhhh,” I say, agreeing with her completely. “Wait, I’m still not gonna use it to get knocked up, you crazy woman!”
“I will if you will,” she singsongs in a childish voice.
“Did you just . . . dare me to get knocked up?” I gasp, feeling the normal undeniable urge when it comes to dares being issued.
“So what if I did?” she mocks.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” I fume. “I bet you get big and fat when my brother knocks you up.”
“Don’t care. Even if I’m big and fat, I’ll still get to play rodeo queen and ride his big, beautiful cock.” She smiles hugely and almost takes us both down when she starts to swerve.
“You’re so gross.”
“I’m drunk.”
“I wanna play rodeo queen with Tate. I don’t think I can, though. He already almost doesn’t fit in there. I start bouncin’ on him like he’s a bull, I’m likely to really break my hooha,” I worry out loud.
“S’long as he gets that baby in there, doesn’t matter if the hooha works.” She nods her head as she talks.
“Shut up about babies, you freak!” I pull on her hair and laugh when she starts wobbling even more. “Oh, slow song! Switch up!”
“Maverick!” I scream across the dance floor. “Your wife wants to dance on your love rod!”
His eyes widen, but he blindly hands his beer off to a laughing Clay as I spin from Leigh and start marching over to where he was, leaving Tate and Clay standing there watching us with smiles on their faces.
“Let’s go, Starch,” I demand, trying to get my hands to stay on my hips, but they just keep sliding down the stupid dress I’m wearing. I look down at the offending material and start to gather up the skirt of it to tuck it into my panties, but Tate moves into my space quickly and bats my hands down.
“Stop tryin’ to get naked, darlin’,” he snaps, but with unmistakable amusement in his voice.
“I hate this stupid thing.” I yank at the dumb dress Leigh made me wear again before looking up at Tate.
“You might not like wearin’ it, but trust me when I say I’ll make it up to you when I get you alone.”
“Oh yeah? How’s that?”
His eyes get hooded and he quirks up one side of his mouth. His lips look so delicious right now. I wonder what he would do if I licked them right here on the dance floor, in front of half the town.
“You wanna find out right now, keep lookin’ at me like that,” he says heatedly.
“I can feel your cock on my belly,” I say in answer, reaching between us and cupping his hard length through his pants. Prying eyes be damned. “I don’t even care if I can’t play with your bull rider.”
“What the hell?”
“Hey, can I give you some head?”
We never do make it to the dance floor after that. I’m not even sure if he tells anyone we’re leaving. One second I’m trying to figure out the best way to get all of him into my mouth and the next he’s tossing me over his shoulder, holding my dress down with his hand and storming toward the door of the bar.
Oh, his ass is really pretty.
I reach down, my head bobbing with his steps, and grab two huge handfuls of muscled, tight butt.
“That’s my sister!” I hear Leigh bellowing over the slow tune.
Using my hold on the hard, denim-covered butt cheeks, I lift myself up and shake the hair from my eyes and look for her through the laughing crowd.
“Have fun, rodeo queen!” I yell back, not knowing if she can hear me, but not really caring because hello, perfect ass.
- -
God, that feels good.
I move my head around, feeling the softness of sheets under it, and try to remember what felt so good just a moment before. God, my head feels like a giant mess of confusion. How the hell did I even get into a bed? The last thing I remember was toasting, again, with the whole bar to Leigh and Mav. Then a whole lot of broken bits and pieces that don’t make a whole lot of sense.
“You awake?” I hear Tate drawl, and I instantly feel all my senses coming back online when his hot breath hits a very needy part of me.
“Jesus Jones, do that again,” I whine, reaching out blindly to find what I need, smiling when I feel the silky-smooth thickness of his hair, grabbing a fistful somewhat gently and pushing him where I want him. He goes willingly, laughing against my core before giving me a long lick and swirl of his tongue. “God, yes,” I moan.
He grabs my thighs and forces them apart, no longer content to let me make a sandwich out of his head to try and keep his mouth on me. I squirm, loving the feel of him ravishing my needy sex with his mouth. When he bites down on my clit and sucks it between his teeth, my eyes pop open and I yelp into the darkness, feeling myself get even wetter.
“Please, Tate,” I beg, pulling at the hair between my fingers to try and get him to move.
“Please what, Grease,” he asks, voice vibrating against my pussy, and I hear myself make a pathetically needy whine.
“Get your cock inside me!” I yell, trying to pull his hair again. He laughs and shakes his head until I let go, and he climbs up my body until I feel the cock I’m so desperate for pressing against my pussy—resting against it instead of pushing inside, dammit.
“How do you want it, Quinn?” he asks, thrusting his hips so that his cock is pushing through the wetness, but not penetrating me just yet. Each time he bumps against my clit, I gasp and feel like my eyes are crossing. “Thought you wanted to play rodeo queen, Grease? Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.”
Blinking the pleasure from my vision, I look up at him with a question on the tip of my tongue. What the hell is he goin’ on about? Then I remember and groan. “Fuckin’ Leigh. Swear to God, I’ll never be able to think about that position ever again.”
Tate laughs, his body still moving against mine, the delicious friction consuming my mind.
“Bet I can make you forget,” he vows, lifting his ass in the air and pulling his hard, thick heat away. His bottom lip rolls in and he bites his teeth on top of it. God, that’s so sexy. He looks down our bodies, and I’m still so stuck on why biting his lip was enough to cause a new rush of wetness between my legs that I don’t notice him moving until he’s pushing his thickness deep inside me with one long, powerful thrust.
I scream out his name, slap my hands against his strong back, and dig my nails in. My legs go up, toes curling, and I would swear to anyone that asked, angels sung in that moment.
He flexes his ass and goes even deeper.
“I can feel you everywhere,” I gasp. My gasp turns into a high-pitched yelp when he rolls—keeping us connected—and from his position, now with his back to the bed, gives a thrust of his hips, causing me to feel him so deep I’m thinking I might actually have to make a real appointment with Gladys to get some internal organs checked out for bruising.
He slaps my ass playfully and smirks at me from the pillow. “Show me what you got, cowgirl.”
Oh, God. I clench involuntarily, so turned on it isn’t even funny.
My palms go to his chest, and I flex my fingers, scraping my nails against his skin. He lets out a hiss when I drag them across his nipples.
Then I dig my knees into the bed and start riding.
“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, using his hands on my hips to help me move when my legs start shaking, till hitting a part so deep inside me I feel like I’m being split into two glorious pieces. “Squeeze my cock, Quinn. Show me how much you love it.”
“I do,” I pant. “I do love it.”
Crack. His hand against my ass makes me yelp. “Reach down and get yourself there, Quinn. Not gonna make it much longer with you grippin’ me so tight with your pussy. Get yourself there so I can fill you up, baby.”
His gravelly voice sets my body on fire almost as much as the part of him I’m riding. I pick up my speed, move one hand to my clit, and start rocking against him. It only takes me a few thrusts against his body before I’m tossing my head back and screaming his name into the darkness.
“God, Tate! So good.” I fall on top of him, completely worthless to do anything more.
“Arghh, Quinn,” he breathes, and I feel the hot splash of him inside me while he twitches under my body.
Long moments later, when both of our breathing has returned to normal and my head feels better, he shifts. I feel him brush my hair aside: I guess he just spent the last few minutes breathing through a face full of it. He kisses my temple, and I hear him breathe me in.
“Remind me to take you dancin’ more often.”
I giggle, which makes him moan. I feel his still-hard cock twitch inside me.
“Thank you for today,” I whisper, lifting up to look down at him, my hands on the mattress on either side of his face. He looks adorably confused, so I smile and continue. “For givin’ me your support while I talked to Clay. You didn’t even say a word, but all it took was your hand in mine and I felt it. I wasn’t even sure I would be able to get all that out with him until I felt that, and I just want you to know that it means a lot.”
“That’s not somethin’ you need to thank me for, darlin’. Any battle you go into, even if it’s just a mental one, is one I’m gonna be by your side for.”
“Then how about this,” I start. “Thank you for comin’ back to me.”
He jolts under me and slides from my body. I whimper when I lose that fullness, and he twists us so that we’re both on our sides and wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. His heart pounds against my ear.
“God, baby, you damn sure don’t need to thank me for that. You’ve given me another chance, when I thought I’d lost it forever. You let me in and gave me back the only thing that ever felt like home to me—you—you give me all that, and you’re thankin’ me?” he questions in disbelief.
I snuggle into his tight embrace and smile against his warm skin.
Home.
That night, with his arms never leaving me, I fall asleep dreaming of waterfalls and a home built with pure love that nothing in the whole world could ever tear down.
I’d always thought home was a place, but he’s right: our home is right here, in each other’s arms.