Page 46 of What We Got Wrong

“Quinn,” was all Liv said, but she repeated it, chanting her name, as Quinn fucked her with her mouth. When Liv pressed her hand to the back of Quinn’s head, it was Quinn’s turn to moan, and the vibrations of that action sent Liv over the edge again.

When she pulled away this time, Quinn climbed back up to the top of the bed and wrapped Liv in her arms, holding her as she came down, relaxing into the embrace. It was several minutes before either of them spoke.

“Are you okay?” Quinn carefully whispered.

Liv laughed, a much louder sound than Quinn was expecting, and moved so that they were eye to eye before pressing her lips to Quinn’s. She deepened the kiss, and it occurred to Quinn that Liv was tasting herself on her lips.

Quinn was pretty sure she was going to melt.

“Fuck,” Liv said, still panting. “How are you so good at that?”

Quinn felt like she was glowing. “I’m extremely well trained in breath control.”

Liv laughed again before her face turned almost shy. Once more, she asked, “Can I touch you now?”

“You can,” Quinn replied, trying not to sound too eager, though she felt like she might literally combust.

Liv took a deep breath, biting her pretty lip, before speaking again. “Is it pathetic if I say that I’m a little nervous?”

Quinn reached for her hand, pulling it to her mouth and kissing her knuckles. “Liv, you are incredibly sexy, and I’m extremely easy. Plus, I’m so turned on from what we’ve done so far, I promise it won’t take much.”

Liv nodded. She didn’t speak again, instead focusing on moving her hands, running them up and down Quinn’s arms—of course, her arms—before Quinn felt her move one hand to her belly, tracing over her abs. Quinn moved so that she was more on her back, with Liv angled over her side, and she watched as Liv slipped her hand into her shorts.

Liv tentatively pressed against her, first over her underwear, mimicking how Quinn had started with her, and then sliding down the front to touch skin to skin. Quinn knew she was incredibly wet, but they both groaned when Liv’s fingers made contact and realized exactly how true that was.

“That’s good,” Quinn whispered, encouraging Liv as she rubbed against Quinn’s clit, already finding a motion that was working for Quinn. “I’m already so close, Liv. That’s really good.”

It was good, so good, and Quinn came seconds later, keyed up as she was from getting Liv off. She slammed her eyes closed, focusing on the feeling coursing through her body, the way she shook and the ripples of pleasure extending from her core all the way down to her toes.

When she finally opened her eyes, all she saw was Liv, a smug expression across her face.

“Turns out we’re both pretty good at that,” Quinn said.

Liv giggled, snuggling into her, and Quinn wondered if maybe they should have taken some more time to think about rules. Because…was cuddling after sex a friends-with-benefits thing? She tried to tell herself that this was whatever they wanted to make it, and she definitely wasn’t going to tell Liv to go to her own bed. It felt amazing to be wrapped around her after what they’d just done.

The best and worst part, really, was that Quinn was already excited about the prospect of next time.

Chapter 17

Quinn

Now

It had been a while since Quinn had gone out, and even longer since she’d had the chance to go to a lesbian bar. She needed to do it more often, though, because just the experience of sitting there with Mel, surrounded by queer people, was helping her feel whole. There was something hard to define, something incredibly special, about the safety of community.

The Melted Crayon was getting crowded. Mel had snagged them a table as soon as they’d arrived, ordering drinks from a server circulating the room, tray in hand. There was a stage area to the left, with posters all over, leading Quinn to understand that they hosted drag shows on the weekends. To the right, there was a modest-sized dance floor, with the tables and partition walls separating the space, creating the impression of different areas even though it was just one giant room.

They sat quietly, sipping their beers, taking in the energy of the crowd. There were several people checking Mel out. There always were. Quinn was used to it. But Mel didn’t seem interested in talking to anyone else, and though she was keeping an eye on the crowd, Quinn kept catching Mel glancing back her way.

“How are you holding up?” her friend finally asked.

Quinn tried to imprint confusion on her face, to give the impression that she didn’t know why Mel was asking. “What do you mean?”

At that, Mel rolled her eyes. “Rhea Stewart is…not nothing, Q.”

“What are you trying to say?” She probably didn’t want to hear it, but Quinn also didn’t want to deal with this awkward tension.

“It was kind of like a love letter to you,” Mel replied simply.