Page 51 of Turning Back

“You like the way he slaps you around, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she moans again. “Fuck me, Quin. Fuck me harder.”

“You want us to fuck you at the same time, don’t you?” I say, my breath coming out long and hard. “You want both our cocks inside you at the same time, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she moans. “Yes.”

I look down and watch myself fuck her. The way my dick slips and out of her pussy. I pull her hair harder. I squeeze her throat tighter.

She starts gasping for air, so I stop that and cup my whole hand around her mouth to keep her screams inside, and force her head back so she has to look me in the eyes.

So she has to see me.

I thrust inside her, hard. Then harder and harder until we come together. Her whole body shaking and trembling as she reaches climax. Her hot breath on the palm of my hand, gasping for more air. And then she goes limp as her come coats my dick.

I let her go and her body falls forward on the couch. I fall on top of her too, and we lie like that. Together. Skin to skin, as we try to catch our breath and calm our racing hearts.

I am so fucking tired.

I get off her and stand up, fisting my cock as I reach for her t-shirt on the floor and clean myself off. She rolls over on her back and watches me, and when I’m done I throw it on top of her belly.

“Did you like it?” I ask.

She nods, looking a tiny bit worried. This is not how things usually go when we have sex.

“Good,” I say. “Because that’s how I fucked Chella that night you told her to sneak into our bed and pretend to be you. Now you know what you missed.”

Chapter Eleven - Rochelle

“So then what happened?” Bric asks.

We’re sitting at our booth in the White Room. Before I left, I’d sit in the middle of the bench, Quin would sit across from me in a chair, and Bric would sit to my left.

Bric is still to my left, Quin isn’t here yet—if he’s coming at all—and Adley is in her baby seat on my right.

Everything is familiar—but off.

“Then he went to bed.”

“What’d you do?”

“I sat there on the couch for a while trying to figure out what happened.”

“What did you come up with?” Bric is looking very intently at me. Like everything I’m saying is critically important.

“He hate-fucked me, that’s what I came up with, Bric!”

“Rochelle,” Bric says, throwing me one of those Don’t overreact looks.

“I’m serious. There’s no other explanation for it. He hate-fucked me. Revenge fuck. Whatever you want to call it. That’s what happened last night.” I sigh and try not to feel depressed and sad. “And then this morning I got out of bed to go check on Adley when she woke up, and when I came back, he was gone.”

“Gone?” Bric asks. “Where’d he go?”

“Just left,” I say. “I texted him. Asked if he’d be here for breakfast. And he never texted back.”

“He’s just mad,” Bric says.

“I know.” I huff. “He told me that last night too. He spelled it out very clearly. He was worried about me. Sad about my leaving. But then when I came back—”