Page 90 of Taking Turns

“I’m too tired to drive,” Quin says, the truck idling, heat blaring on our flushed faces. His head is tipped back against the headrest, his breathing low and slow as he closes his eyes and we’re just still, out here in the forest.

I’m tired too. My arms ache and my legs are numb. But it’s a tired I haven’t felt in a long time. It’s a good kind of tired.

I take off my coat and he opens one eye to peek at me. “What are you doing?”

I blush, but don’t answer. Just scoot over and place my hand over his zipper, gently rubbing. “If you don’t want to—”

“Shit.” He laughs. “I want to.” His hand reaches down to find the controls for the seat and he moves it all the way back. “Come here,” he says, patting his thighs.

Quin is handsome in a very different way than Bric or Smith. They are both polished and serious. But he’s the fun version. The wild version. The happy version.

I know he loves Rochelle and I know I should probably not be so forward. He might want out. But I don’t think he wants out before the four of us get our chance to see what happens. So he’s still mine. For now. And I want him.

I climb into his lap, straddle his legs, and drag his coat down his shoulders. He sits forward until I get it off, and I throw it in the back seat.

“You’re very pretty, Chella.”

“Thank you,” I say, smiling down at his blue eyes.

“Even prettier than Rochelle, but in a different way.”

“I think Rochelle is beautiful,” I say. “I like her hair. I wish I had her long, straight, dirty-blonde hair. And her eyes. The hazel is so unique. And she’s so… fragile. I always felt like a giant next to her, even though I’m only a few inches taller. She’s tiny everywhere I’m not.”

He places both of his hands on my breasts. I’m wearing a loose cream-colored silk blouse with a flared ruffle at the wrists. I close my eyes when he begins to unbutton my shirt and I can’t stop biting my lip when he opens it up and pulls my bra down, exposing my nipples. I lean into his mouth as he sucks them, his hands squeezing, his cock growing bigger underneath me as I hold his head.

He stops, looks up at me and says, “Do you like me, Chella?”

I give him a slow nod. “I do. You’re so easy to like, Quin.”

“I think you’re pretty easy to like as well. I didn’t expect it. I really thought I’d hate you forever. But you surprised me that second time we were together. With your easygoing humor. Your willingness to play along. And for letting me feel my loss however I wanted. Smith and Bric just wanted me to move on. I get it, she’s gone. And like I said, I’m not going after her until I know why she left. I don’t want to be that guy, you know?”

“I don’t know why she left, but she’s crazy for leaving you behind. I think she’s gonna figure that out pretty fast, if she hasn’t already.”

“But I like this,” he says, playing with the long strands of dark hair hanging over my face. “I like what this is turning into. I was having a lot of fun already today. Even before you got horny.”

I smile and a laugh escapes. “We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want.”

“Fuck that.” He leans up and kisses me. It starts gentle and soft, but then his hands are grabbing my hair, pulling me towards him so he can kiss me harder. “Fuck that. As long as you’re in, I’m in too.”

His hands drop to my shoulders and he slips my blouse down until I help him take it off. The heat is blasting into my back, keeping that side of me warm while Quin heats up my front. A moment later he’s unclasping my bra and tossing it in the back with his coat. I lean over into the passenger seat and unbutton my jeans as he takes off my snow boots and they join the bra.

He pulls on my pant legs as I wiggle them over my hips, dragging my underwear down at the same time. And then, when I’m naked, he opens my legs and fingers me.

“You’re always ready,” he says. “Always so fucking wet.”

My foot finds the hardness over his zipper. “I like that about you too.”

We smile, then laugh together as he opens his jeans and pulls out his cock. Fully erect. Thick and perfect.

I get up from the seat and maneuver on to my knees, then lean down to take him in my mouth, but he stops me. “Just climb on top,” he says. “I don’t want to wait.”

I lift my leg over his lap and settle on top of his thighs. We kiss for a little bit, his fingertips gently dragging up and down my spine, sending chills through my entire body as we get to know each other better through our tongues.

But eventually we can’t wait any longer. I sit up, wrap my hand around his cock, and play with my clit until he takes over and the pressure of his hands on my shoulders makes me sit down.

We both moan. I bury my face into his neck, rub my cheek on his to feel the perfect scratch of stubble on his jaw.

We fuck like that. Slow. Our hips moving just enough but not too much. Like we don’t want to rush it. Like we want to stay in this moment and savor it. Keep our release bottled up for as long as possible. Hold on to our longings, whatever they may be.