Chapter Eleven
Quinn
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Don’t tell me no,” I warn.
She eyeballs me from the driver’s seat of the brand-new Honda Pilot and shakes her head. “I can’t. It’s too expensive. What if I crash it?”
Smirking, I lean back in the passenger seat and kick my feet up on the dash. “You’re missing precious study time arguing with me.”
She huffs in frustration and fuck if it isn’t the cutest sound ever. “You’re stubborn. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“Anyone ever tell you that for a good girl you’re sometimes very bad?” I ask with a laugh. “Just drive the damn car back to my house.”
It probably seems impulsive or stupid, but buying another car—one she could use to cart around the twins—was the answer to the transportation problem. It’s safe and big enough for her and the boys.
“I’ve only ever driven my mom’s car and it breaks down half the time. I don’t think I’ve ever even sat in a car this nice,” she says with a sigh before turning over the engine. The car purrs quietly. I’m patient as she fiddles with the air and mashes different buttons to see what they do. I want her to get really acquainted with this car because it’s hers.
Once she seems comfortable, she starts driving. I can tell she’s nervous but her smile says she’s excited too. Pride thumps in my chest and I wonder what else I can give to her to keep her looking so happy.
Earlier, when she’d helped Aiden with his worst subject, I’d been awed how easily she got through to him. Usually, he and I go head to head when I try to assist him. It ends up with him checking out mentally. He’s not like Anthony, who’s a hothead. Aiden bottles up his emotions. When he’s frustrated, he simply goes neutral and becomes ultra-compliant. But with Ava, he was engaged. He had fun with it and I could see the wheels turning in his head. She was helping him understand it in a way he could retain. It was fucking beautiful to watch.
I’d thought maybe the night would be ruined though when Anthony made a scene at dinner. He called me out on my strict ways in front of everyone. I had been so pissed, I had to leave before I said something too brutal that he wouldn’t forgive me for. When I’d cooled off and came to apologize, I overheard him talking to Ava. She was so gentle and understanding. Soft. The boys have had so much hardness from me that they need a little sweetness in their life. Hell, we all do. Sammie wasn’t sweet at all. She was self-obsessed and didn’t give any of us the time of day. For once in a long time, we all have someone who seems to listen and care about how we’re feeling.
“Am I supposed to drive this thing to school?” she asks, her teeth chattering together nervously. “I guess I would if I have to pick them up in it. I just feel guilty because it’s your new car and—”
“Your new car,” I correct.
She darts her gaze my way, confusion marring her pretty features. “What?”
“I bought this car for you. It’s yours. Drive it whenever or wherever you want.”
Her head shakes as if to clear the words from her brain. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s there to understand?” I ask as I palm her thigh over jeans. “I bought you a car.”
She presses her lips together and stares straight ahead. The silence is almost unbearable. For the entire drive back to the house, she’s too quiet. Once we’re parked in the driveway and the car shuts off, she turns to frown at me.
“I’m not a charity case,” she breathes, embarrassment painting her cheeks crimson.
“Never said you were,” I say in a matter of fact tone. “But what I did say was you are mine. I take care of what’s mine. If I want to buy you a damn car, I’ll buy you a damn car.”
“What will people think of you buying your babysitter a car?”
I grip her chin and tilt her face my way. “Does it look like I care what they think?”
“N-No.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it,” she says quickly. “I just don’t feel like I deserve it.”
Leaning forward, I brush a kiss against her soft lips. “You could get over here and earn it.”
She laughs—such a sweet fucking sound—before arching a brow at me. I love how her brown eyes twinkle with mischief behind her glasses. “This sounds an awful lot like prostitution.”
I unbuckle her seatbelt and haul her across the console into my lap. She straddles my thighs, settling against my body where she belongs.
“Do prostitutes get spoiled with orgasms?” I tease, my teeth nipping at her flesh through her shirt.
Her fingers thread into my hair. “I don’t know.”
“If you were a prostitute you’d know,” I say, my voice a low rumble. “But you’re a babysitter. A fucking nanny. You’re my goddamned girlfriend and I can spoil the shit out of you as much as I want. Got it, mon petit oiseau?”
She melts against me and nods. “Got it. Thank you, Quinn.”
Our mouths fuse together and I kiss her like I’m fucking eighteen again. My hands roam all over her perfect body. This girl is inside of me. She’s sweet and soft and beautiful—bringing light to dark parts of me that have been docile and caged. I like the way she pulls away my shackles and lets me be free. By stepping into the proverbial cage I’ve designed for her, she gives me total freedom.
“Stay the night.” It’s not a question but a command.
“Won’t the boys be suspicious?” she challenges.
“Let me worry about that. I want you to worry about how many orgasms I can give to you in one night.”
A small giggle escapes her. “You’re a bad influence on me. I should be studying.”
“Oh, you can study, baby,” I mutter. “Just know that you’re going to study with your thighs wrapped around my head and my tongue buried in your cunt. I hope you’re good at multitasking.”
“Quinn!”
I flash her a devilish grin. “Oui, mon petit oiseau?”
“You’re bad.” She bites on her plump bottom lip. Don’t mind if I do.
Leaning forward, I tug at her lip with my teeth until she whimpers. Then, I let go and stare intently at her. “You’re the good one in this relationship. I’m simply here to corrupt you.”
“I think you already have,” she murmurs when I palm her tit through her shirt.
“Sweetheart,” I say with a grin and grip her hip in a possessive way. “I’ve only just gotten started.”