Quinn

 

It’s official.

I’m twenty-one years old, and I no longer need to rely on Colt’s friends or my fake ID to get into bars. I always thought I’d be more excited to finally reach this milestone, but the enthusiasm is elusive tonight.

It’s hard to celebrate when Colt’s across the bar hitting on the young, pretty blonde who’d walked in a short time ago, two friends trailing in her wake. Even as I laugh at Beck’s crude joke, her image is imprinted into my mind. She’s Colt’s type. Blonde, busty, and looking for a good time.

Shit. This isn’t how I’d envisioned this evening, but I should have known.

I’d spent my teen years growing up with Colt and the twins—Gabe and Channing. We’d stayed with the same foster family right up to graduation, and then we’d inevitably followed Colt when he’d moved out here to Riverside, California. Colt’s a few years older than us all, making him twenty-four. He’s the eldest, and in a way, we’ve always looked up to him because of this.

Now we’re all adults, and I’ve found myself in a bit of a predicament. During my teen years, I hadn’t thought of Colt as anything other than an annoying older brother.

Somehow, in the past year, that’s all changed.

An intense attraction has developed, and now I feel tortured every time I see him with another woman. Unfortunately, that torture is never-ending, because he’s the worst kind of manwhore. I know it all stems from his rough childhood, but it’s tearing me apart inside.

I’m not stupid, and I’d quit lying to myself a long time ago. I’m in love with him. As if my mind wants to prolong the pain, my eyes once again slide to the subject of my thoughts.

He’s hotter than Hades.

His hair is almost black, and he keeps it cut short while allowing a little scruff to line his jaw from time to time. I love it when he skips shaving since it makes him look even more sinful than usual. And those eyes…they’re hazel, but damn, they can be moody and simmering hot all at the same time. Lately, every time those eyes fixate on me, my lower stomach quivers and I helplessly envision what he looks like when he’s fucking someone.

My eyes slide down his body. He’s tall, almost too tall compared to my small stature since I barely reach five-foot-three. However, I’ve got a thing for tall men, so his six-four height just adds to his appeal. Tonight, his dark gray shirt hugs his broad shoulders, and his well-defined abs are outlined beneath the fabric. The tattoos darkening both arms are noticeable in the lights, adding to his bad boy appearance. Toss in the way he fills out his jeans…

I abruptly turn away and knock back the shot that someone just placed in front of me. I typically don’t drink much since I have a natural high for life. Many times, I’ve been called impulsive—even unstable, but I prefer adventurous. Right this very minute, I’m dying. We’re all dying. Every minute is a minute we can’t get back, and it edges us closer to the end of our life—our last breath. I’m not going to apologize for enjoying every moment that I have left.

My eyes shift to our group still lingering in the booth that we’d snagged earlier. It’s a bit of a tight fit since the circular booth isn’t all that big, so Ash is sitting on Channing’s lap. She’s snickering at whatever Sebastian—who’s sitting beside Channing—had said to her, and her eyes flicker towards Harper, whose lips have turned up in an amused smile.

A heaviness settles in my gut as I gaze at the cast on Harper’s left arm. Not long ago, I’d nearly lost my best friend to a madman. She’d come so close, and not only had she almost lost her life, another acquaintance had lost hers.

Life’s fucking short as hell.

Maybe that’s why Slade is so appealing these days. He’s fascinating, and I feel wired and alive when I’m with him. Plus, my feelings for Colt are tolerable because Slade eases the tension for me. When I’m wound tight with frustration, Slade takes it all away.

“Happy Birthday, kiddo.”

I look up to see that Gabe has arrived. When it comes to birthdays, we celebrate the night of, not the weekend after the special day. Birthdays mean too much to us. Growing up unwanted has cemented a strong connection between the four of us.

I make a face at him for calling me ‘kiddo’ but don’t bother to complain as I turn and accept his hug. He’s a paramedic and just came off his shift. He gives me an affectionate squeeze and then pulls back so he can peer down at me, his gray eyes amused. “Another year wiser, you think?”

“Ha. We all know that doesn’t pertain to me,” I say with a laugh.

“We’ll keep praying,” he deadpans.

I smack his shoulder. “Someone needs to keep you all on your toes now that you’re all settling down like old folks.”

He laughs and leans down, pressing a brotherly kiss to my forehead. “You’ll get yours eventually.”

“Maybe when I’m old as dirt.”

Gabe just shakes his head and moves to the booth. When Harper spies him, her green eyes light up as he makes his way over to her. After he sits down, he carefully pulls her onto his lap. Her head bends towards his, and he places a loving kiss on her lips.

Envy filters through my veins, and I decide I need a break from all the displays of affection.

The music had gotten louder with a new song, and I lean into Remington, a good friend of Sebastian’s, who’s standing beside me. There isn’t enough room in the booth, and I’ve been lingering on the outside and swaying to the music. I tell him I’ll be back, and when he nods that he’d heard me, I turn and make my way through the crowd. The bar is packed tonight. Usually, it’s not this busy, but there looks to be a few bachelorette parties present.

When I enter the small, three-stall bathroom, the music becomes muffled. After I lock myself in the nearest stall, I stand there, exhaling. I need to compose myself before I go back out there.

Colt will never be mine, and I need to come to terms with that knowledge. I’ve always known that. Not only will he likely never see me in any other way than sisterly, but he won’t ever settle down with anyone—not even the pretty blondes he tends to chase after. His past makes it impossible for him to attain a normal relationship like Channing and Gabe have managed to find with their girlfriends. Colt’s determined to never feel anything for anyone except for what he feels for Gabe, Channing, and me. We’re safe because we’re considered family. Anything beyond that is off limits.

We’re all messed up in some way. Being abandoned will do that to a child. The four of us have been together since our early teen years when we’d all found ourselves staying with the Thompson’s, the family that had fostered us. Those years were certainly interesting, and not all of them easy, but Gabe and Channing have managed to work past their issues to find true happiness. I envy them, because I don’t know if I’ll ever have that for myself. It’s impossible for me to trust anyone but the men I’d grown up with. Of course I trust Harper, and now Ash has been inducted into our inner circle. Beyond that, I hold myself back emotionally.

Now physically is another story. I can give myself away physically, because sex is damned good when done right. Emotions don’t need to be involved to enjoy someone’s body. That’s why Slade is perfect. He wants nothing from me but my body, and all I want is a good orgasm while I try to put Colt out of my head.

I need Slade tonight.

I dig my phone from the small purse that I’ve kept crisscrossed over my chest all evening, and I bring up my text messages. A few weeks back, we’d exchanged phone numbers when we’d both realized the sex is definitely something that’s going to continue for a while. And no, we’re not ‘seeing’ each other. I drop by his place for sex, and then I leave. Unless I’m too exhausted to leave, then I pass out for a while, and then leave. The man is a freak in bed, and I love it. I like that it’s good and yet unsettling…in a weird way.

I quickly send, Fuck me to oblivion tonight.

It takes about a minute for him to reply. Now?

In about an hour. I’m busy right now, I send and then slip the phone back in the purse. Knowing that I have Slade to look forward to will make the rest of this evening more bearable.

When I exit the stall, Ash happens to be entering the restroom. Her brown eyes brighten when she sees me. “There you are. Come dance with me.”

“Give me a sec.” I turn to the sink and wash my hands. Ash has been such a fun woman to get to know, and I am honestly happy for her and Channing. They’d started out with some hurdles to deal with, but now they’re in a wonderful place, and I like that they’re happy.

I peer at her as I dry my hands. Her long, dark hair is falling down her back tonight, and she’s wearing a red minidress that’s hugging her curves. The lipstick she’d had on earlier is long gone, and her lips look swollen.

I grin at her. “You guys can bail when you’re ready.”

She frowns. “Why would we bail?”

“I can think of plenty of reasons,” I say suggestively.

A low laugh escapes her. “I’m drawing out the torture.”

“Make him work for it,” I agree with a snicker.

“That’s the plan.”

We exit the restroom, and I avoid looking Colt’s way, knowing he’s still likely with the blonde and her friends. Instead, I allow Ash to lead me to the small dance floor, and I try to brush off my turbulent emotions.

After about another hour, the celebration begins to wind down. Colt had already taken off with the blonde, and Rem and Beck had found their own hookups for the night.

Gabe hadn’t planned on drinking tonight, so he’s the designated driver for most of us who’d taken cabs. “Ready?” he asks me, pulling out his keys as we stand beside the booth.

I shake my head. “I’ll take a cab.”

He frowns, but Harper snuggles into his side. “She has plans,” she tells him, correctly assuming that I’m going to see Slade. I haven’t shared much about him with Ash and Harper, but I know they’re curious.

He nods and draws me to him, giving me another hug. “Happy Birthday,” he murmurs.

“Thank you.”

Channing hugs me as well, and then we all leave the bar and part ways. While they walk to Gabe’s car, I make my way to the front sidewalk and wait to hail a cab.

Once I flag one down, I settle into the backseat and feel the familiar apprehension creeping up on me. If Slade looked like anyone else, this wouldn’t feel so sneaky. What the others don’t know is that Slade is almost exactly the spitting image of Colt. It’s eerie how alike they look, though I’m certain they aren’t related. Slade just happens to be tall, muscular, and tattooed. His hair is just as dark as Colt’s, though it is slightly longer—but not by much. Instead of hazel eyes, he has light brown, but they’re still similar enough that Slade satisfies my desire for Colt.

My face begins to heat. If anyone ever finds out what Slade looks like, they’ll immediately know that it isn’t Slade I’m interested in, but Colt. It’s why I’ve been keeping Slade a secret. I don’t ever want to lose Colt, and even though I long for him, I’ll take him any way I can get him—which means being the sister that he’s grown to love.

There’s just one problem.

Honesty is a huge part of our relationship. The four of us, we grew into adulthood never keeping secrets from one another. We all know each other’s history; what makes us tick, what has cut us deeply, what haunts us in our dreams at night. We know everything.

This is one secret I can’t afford for them to find out. That means this thing with Slade is going to have to end…sooner rather than later. Gabe has already begun to show his suspicions, and so have Ash and Harper.

The cab pulls up in front of the bar that Slade works at. He also happens to be renting the single apartment on the second floor. After I pay the driver, I walk into the bar. It’s not my usual scene. There are no college students here. Just older men or people looking for trouble. I’d wandered in here one night by accident, and the second I’d laid eyes on Slade, I’d known that I had to have him.

I ignore the crude remark a bearded guy makes as I walk past him and his friends. As I pass by the bar, I note that Slade is nowhere to be seen, which means he’s already waiting for me. In the past, if I happened to drop by during his shift, one of the other bartenders covered for him.

I pass by a couple making out in the hallway and slip through the ‘employees only’ door. I enter a hall, and it leads to the office, and beyond that is a stairwell that goes to the apartment above. A back exit is located near the base of the stairs, but it’s locked unless you’re going out. It’s just easier to enter the bar and go on up this way.

The loud rock music from the bar fades as I carefully navigate the stairs in my high heels. A different type of music greets me as I approach the door at the top of the stairwell. Loud bass is throbbing from within the apartment, warning me that Slade is in one of his moods.

The knowledge has adrenaline spiking throughout my body. I never know what Slade is going to want or what I’m walking into. I don’t typically let anyone control the sex, but sometimes, it’s hot as hell letting Slade decide what and how we’re spending our time together. In return, Slade allows me to do what I want when I’m in the mood, which means I can explore anything with him, and he won’t deny me my requests.

I reach for the doorknob, and it turns easily in my hand. Anticipation has me easing the door open, and I step inside the darkened apartment. I blink, trying to allow my eyes to adjust. After a second, I close the door, and I’m engulfed in darkness. The throbbing bass throws me off slightly, and I stand there in the kitchen, debating what to do.

Tonight is a game—his game.

I just hope it has nothing to do with anything I’ve made clear that I’m not interested in. I’ll try anything, but once it’s been tried and if I didn’t like it, I don’t expect it to happen again. Sometimes, Slade will try to coax me into giving in, but I usually stay firm. I can be pushed to a point, but when sex turns to pain or humiliation, I’m out. I’m not into that.

Knowing things are about to get a little wild, I pull my purse off and blindly reach for the counter top. When my fingers brush the cool surface, I set the purse down.

Slade’s around here somewhere, patiently waiting to make his move. I’m certain I’m about to be tied up or restrained in some way. I take a cautious step forward, knowing he’s deliberately drawing this out. I’d told him I wanted him to fuck me good tonight, so I know part of this is for my benefit, but mostly for his. His fantasies lean towards the dark side, whereas mine have more to do with taking control. There’s just something incredibly hot when a strong, capable man bends to a woman’s will. I’m not into the ‘sweep me off my feet, make sweet love, and bring me flowers’ types that some women seem to favor. I don’t want romance. I just want a man to know what to do with my body and to make me lose control.

Slade meets all my needs.

Tired of waiting for him to make his move, I cautiously begin to enter the apartment. I know the layout. I sense movement to my left before a hand clamps over my mouth, a strong arm drawing me back against a masculine body. He likes it when I struggle, so I bite his palm. Hard.

His reaction is to haul me up into his arms so that my feet no longer touch the floor, and I’m carried though the darkness. I struggle but don’t put much effort into it. After all, I want him to fuck me. I’m not trying to actually escape his endgame.

As he tightens his grip across my mouth, I feel him bite my ear, causing me to shiver. Behind my back, his skin is bare. He’s shirtless, and as my legs kick to give him the full effect of this little fantasy, I feel his jean-clad legs against my own.

We’ve reached his bedroom, and he shoves open the door and red light greets me. I don’t know why he likes the red, but on nights like this, he has a red bulb in his lamp, giving the room an eerie darkroom effect.

I suddenly find myself pressed face first into the nearest wall, and his palm flattens between my shoulder blades, preventing me from moving away.

He’s stripping me down—roughly.

I’ve never been into games until Slade, but I’m already slick between my legs. Would I want to do this on a regular basis? Nope. Tonight, this is perfect though, and I am a more than willing participant.

All my clothes are pulled from my body, and then I feel Slade press himself along my back, his bare chest flattening against me. His jean-clad hips push into my bare ass, and he thrusts his hips so that his hard erection drives into my lower back, causing me to moan.

A hand fists in my hair, reminding me that I’m not supposed to be acting like I’m enjoying this. I sense him doing something behind me, and I find fabric pressed against my mouth and then quickly tightened. I frown as he gags me. He knows I don’t like it, but occasionally, I’ll go with it. I could have done without the gag tonight, but I don’t want to ruin the fun.

My wrists are yanked behind my back, and a thin cord is wrapped tightly around them. The cords aren’t as comfortable as the silk restraints, but they’re Slade’s favorite.

Next thing I know, I’m hauled across the room and tossed down onto the bed, face first. I turn my head to the side, and Slade’s body presses into mine. His hands are all over my body, and then one slips between my legs, and he shoves two fingers into me.

It feels good, and I arch my hips, wanting more.

Slade changes his tactics, and he gently begins sliding his fingers in and out of me as his teeth trail across my bare shoulder. I move restlessly beneath him, aching for more. Just when I’m close to coming, he shifts and flips me onto my back.

I like being able to look up at him, and in the red light, he looks dark and dangerous. Sometimes, when I’m with Slade, I imagine he’s Colt—but not tonight. Colt would never be this rough, that I am certain of. His biggest fear is losing control and harming a woman.

Wait…what the fuck?

Slade hovers above me, a knife in his hand as he gazes down at my naked body.

My eyes widen. Weapons have never been a part of our games. What the hell? I don’t like being vulnerable to his machinations when risk is involved.

His sensuous lips curve up into a sinister smile as he lifts the knife to his palm and draws it across his skin. Blood drips down to my breasts, and I stop breathing as he cocks his head at me, the knife still in his hand.

I’m not sure what reaction he’s hoping for, but I can’t hide my uneasiness. This is new, and I don’t like it. He must read my thoughts in my eyes, because he tosses the knife to the floor before leaning over me, rubbing his bloodied hand across my breasts.

Now that the knife is gone, the moment of fear I’d had dissipates. I’m a little confused as to why he’s coating me with his blood, but every time his fingers rub across my nipples, pleasure rushes between my legs. His head lowers, and he lightly taunts the distended tips with his tongue, causing me to squirm beneath him as the blood is forgotten.

His hand reaches for my clit, and I widen my legs as he rubs the sensitive nub. I’m writhing beneath him, ready for him to stop the torment and give me what I want. Just when I’m about to explode with pleasure, his fingers leave me.

My eyes fly open, and I glare with frustration until I see that he’s eased back so he can remove his jeans. His dick is hard and ready, and he moves back to me the second he pulls on the condom. His hands grab my thighs and parts them wider. Then, he’s pushing into me to the hilt. With my wrists bound behind me, my hips are titled upwards, and I practically roll my eyes with pleasure as he begins to thrust into me at a fast pace. My eyes close, and I shove my hips upwards to meet his.

One of his hands shoves my hair away from my face, and then both his hands clamp around my neck. My eyes fly open as his body moves above mine, his strong hands tightening around my neck.

I try shaking my head to let him know that this isn’t what I want, he should know that. We’d tried this once before, and I’d hated it. Instead of releasing me, his hands continue to tighten as he pistons in and out of me.

I can’t breathe.

Panic takes over, and I begin to struggle beneath him.

Slade groans, his hips moving faster and harder as I fight to draw in precious oxygen.

This can’t be happening!

Even as my body enjoys his thrusting, I am freaking out in the inside. The grip on my neck hurts, and I can feel darkness beginning to cloud my vision. Last time, he hadn’t choked me this hard. Something’s changed tonight.

The fight begins to leave my body as darkness quickly takes over. Just when I think I’m going to lose consciousness, I hear Slade let out a guttural groan of pleasure before he goes still, and his hands release my throat. Oxygen floods my throat and lungs, and I greedily gulp in as much air as I can beneath the gag.

He’s dead.

I’m going to fucking kill him.

 I am beyond furious, and I glare at Slade as he eases off me. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and he looks completely satisfied. When he reaches for the gag, his eyes connect with mine. There’s no remorse in his gaze, but there is a glint in his eye that’s disturbing.

The gag is pulled away from my lips, and I swallow and sort out how I want to handle this situation. This is a side of Slade that’s new to me. Yes, I’ve always sensed he could be dangerous, but he’s never taken things this far before. When he motions for me to turn around so he can release my bound hands, I flatten my lips and turn, giving him my bare back.

As he works at the bindings, my anger begins to get the better of me. I feel used, and I realize now that he doesn’t give a shit about my feelings. He’d wanted to play out his fantasy tonight regardless of whether I was comfortable with it or not. And what the fuck? Blood?

When my hands are free, I react without thinking. I spin around and pull back my fist, slamming it into his jaw before he can see it coming. Pain radiates throughout my hand and wrist, and as Slade recoils from the blow, I cradle my hand to my chest and scramble to my feet. “You fucker!” I spat.

Slade springs forward and backhands me, sending me sprawling across the bed. “You hit me, I hit back,” he says in a flat tone.

I lie there, stunned.

The music is still playing in the apartment, and it sinks in that I don’t know a damned thing about him. Slowly, I sit up and turn to face him.

He stands there, still naked and looking like sin. The expression on his face has calmed as he watches my next move. My eyes drop to his hand, and a droplet of blood falls to the carpet. His blood…it’s all over me. I feel sick. When my eyes lift to his face once more, I note that his focus is now on my lower lip, where the skin had split and is now bleeding.

The look on his face…

I’m beginning to realize it for what it is.

He has a blood fetish.

Definitely not normal, and I need to tread carefully.

Slade frowns, and he transforms right before my eyes, morphing into a man that looks concerned and remorseful. “Stay put,” he says over the music before he disappears out of sight.

That remorse, I don’t believe it for a second.

I dart off the bed and hurry to my clothes strewn across the floor. I slip on the lingerie and short dress as fast I can, and I shove my feet into my high heels. I’m anxious to get away from him.

Slade appears in the doorway, and a frown mars his handsome face when he sees that I’m fully dressed. “It was reflex, Quinn.”

“Is that what the asphyxiation was too?” I ask sarcastically, wiping the blood off my chin.

“You said to fuck you to oblivion. Asphyxiation heightens pleasure,” he reminds.

“You know damn well that wasn’t what I was referring to. You also knew that I never wanted to revisit that fantasy of yours again.”

His eyes shift. “You and I both know that we’re well beyond harmless games, Quinn.”

Unease slithers through me. “Why the blood?” I ask, controlling my emotions. Answers first, and then I’m getting the hell out of here and never coming back.

He shrugs. “Blood’s nothing new.”

He’s right. Last time I’d been on my period, he’d wanted to fuck me. I’d declined until he’d talked me into it. I’d found it gross, but he’d seemed to enjoy it. I nod to his hand. “That is.”

He doesn’t say anything.

I was a fool to think that I could control him, and I’d had no idea that the blood was an actual fetish. He’d also just choked the shit out of me and had enjoyed every second of it. The thought of hurting me like that had turned him on.

This is the moment that my lust for him turns to hate. He’d gagged me so that I couldn’t tell him to stop what he was doing. I’d been vulnerable to whatever he’d wanted, and I feel disgusted with myself for allowing things to get this far. Yes, I’ve always enjoyed letting him take control, but this went way beyond that.

Tonight was unforgivable.

“It’s late,” I say after the lengthy pause, keeping my tone neutral. I can dwell on how horrifically wrong this night had gone when I get home. Right now, I want to leave Slade’s place without further confrontation.

Slade nods. “Next time’s yours,” he says lightly.

The fact that he thinks there’s a next time or that giving me a night of control makes up for tonight—has me feeling sick. How could I have been oblivious to how disturbed he really is?

My gut tells me to smile and bow out as gracefully as I can. I manage to pass off a wobbly smile for one of acceptance. “Sure,” I lie.

“Want a ride home?”

“I’ll just call a cab.”

He nods, and his eyes shift towards his discarded jeans on the floor. “I need to get back to work. I’ll walk you down and call you a cab.”

Once he’s dressed, we make our way downstairs, and I walk through the bar without ever turning back. I know better than to go outside and wait, so I linger near the door. As I watch for the cab, I ignore the drunken assholes that are crudely commenting on what they’d like to do to me. Little do they know, I’ve already suffered through a nightmare, and I’m anxious to escape it.

When the cab pulls up in front of the building, I fold my arms across my chest and hurriedly exit the bar. I can still feel Slade’s blood where it had dried to my skin, and I can’t wait to shower.

The second I climb into the backseat, I shudder.

Worst birthday ever.