Page 54 of Parallel
I roll her under me, my hands gripping her hips, my mouth hungry for every inch of skin. I’m hard as nails and just the friction, being pressed to her stomach, has me close to coming. I slide her bottoms off to the side. She’s drenched,ready.
Except…there’s something wrong here. I want to plunge inside her more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but how did we get here? How is it that her bikini is gone and beneath us it is soft, nothing at all like the Sunfish’s fiberglassbottom?
I open myeyes.
I’m not in a boat. I’m no longer in high school. And Quinn is beneath me, in the hotel room we rented. I have no idea how she wound up in my bed, but she is quite obviously sound asleep, despite the fact that she’s arching against me and my hand is…fuck…between her legs. I’m so hard my dick has pushed through the slit in my boxers. With a suppressed, reluctant groan, I remove my hand and go the bathroom to take care of an issue I probably should have dealt with earlier. The obsession with her has to end… It was one thing to have a painful crush, but this has gone too far. I could lose my fucking medical license over what justhappened.
I stand beneath the hot spray, one hand pressed to the wall to support myself. I think about the feel of her beneath me and the way her body arched toward mine, begging for more. I think about what would have come next, how I would have thrust into her and fucked her hard and fast, with the kind of desperation that comes from years ofdenial.
I come in five secondsflat.
24
QUINN
Iopen my eyes to daylight streaming in and sit straight up with a gasp. I went to sleep in the bed next to the window. IknowI went to sleep in the bed next to thewindow.
I am no longer in that bed. I clutch the top sheet to my chest and turn toward Nick, who is slowly blinking awake. “Good morning, roomie,” he says with ayawn.
“Why am I in your bed?” I gritout.
“Maybe you time traveledthere.”
His smile is teasing, but I barely even register it. My heart feels like it’s going to explode.I knew we shouldn’t have shared a room. Practicality and sleep deprivation made the decision for me, but I knew better. “I seriously need to know why the fuck I’m in yourbed.”
“I think you must have been sleepwalking,” he says. “I woke up and you were there, so I just switched over to yourbed.”
My stomach takes a nosedive. He’s making light of it, but the fact remains that I climbed into bed with him, wearing nothing but a thong. Even if nothing more happened, that’s sort of enough, right there. “Oh myGod.”
“Quinn,” he says, pausing long enough that I’m forced to look over at him. “It’s not a bigdeal.”
“I’m pretty sure Jeff wouldn’t agree with that,” Iwhisper.
He lifts himself up on one arm. The sheet is down at his waist, so I get to watch a thousand muscles blink into life at the movement. For a moment I’m so spellbound I forget what I just said. “Please tell me you’re not going to feel guilty about something that minor, especially given that it happened when you wereasleep.”
“I guess,” I say with a sigh. “It’s still…”Awful, wrong, humiliating, inappropriate. There are so many ways to end that sentence. “Bad.”
“Hey, come on,” he says with a grin, “you and I are apparently married in some alternate universe, remember? Technically, I think that means you’re cheating onmewhen you’re withJeff.”
I laugh reluctantly. “Is that how itworks?”
He looks over at me from where he lies, his smile fading. There are words there, right on the tip of the tongue, but they never emerge. He pushes the sheet away and walks to the bathroom instead, and I remain behind, drinking in the sight of him—that swimmer’s back, boxers clinging to his tight, perfect ass. As horrified as I am by what might have happened last night, I sort of wish I could remember every single second of it, whatever itwas.
* * *
We arriveat the diner far earlier than necessary, the two of us rumpled and walk-of-shame-esque in yesterday’s clothes. He’s in no rush since someone is covering his morning rounds, so we order breakfast and nurse cups of coffee while we wait. There’s nothing magical about it. The diner isn’t particularly clean and the coffee isn’t especially good. But I’mhappy. Not that lukewarm, milquetoast version of happy I normally am, but something so much better. For the first time, my soul is full. All I want in the world right now is more of him. More time, more knowledge. “What’s your favorite color?” Iask.
He looks at me for a long moment. “Green,” he says. “Favoritemovie?”
I shrug. “I don’t think I have one. What’syours?”
A small smile warms his face. “Inception. Have you seenit?”
I shake my head. I’ve always meant to, but when you’re part of a couple things tend to get decided based on who cares the most, and it’s neverme.
“You should,” he says. “Favoritesong?”
“It’s an old Foo Fighters song,” I reply. “Everlong.”