 |
| Sponsored by: Tricky Raven |
Supporting the Creativity of
Readers, Writers, Artists and Free Thinkers...
“The Birds and the Bees”
Author: meliz875
Pairing: Leah/Quil
Rating: MA
Genre: Humor/Friendship
Beta/Prereader: Malorla
Summary: Quil’s in need of a special kind of lesson and thinks Leah is just the right person to teach him.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The artist or author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Leah could have knit a sweater in the time it takes her to remember to breathe.
Quil, on the other hand, is completely serious. His eyes are wide as saucers, eyebrows arching expectantly. It’s the same look Seth used to give their mom when he’d done something really bad. Or something really stupid. The look he gave when he knew he was about to get his balls served to him on a nice, thick piece of frybread.
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” The words barely make it over her parched tongue.
Quil Ateara is full of dumb ideas, but this one takes the goddamn cake.
“Please tell me you’re not serious...”
This time, Quil squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his face roughly with his hands. Another handful of seconds pass before he drops his arms to his sides with loud smacks.
“As a fucking heart attack.”
Leah blinks again. It seems to be the only thing she can do without bursting into peals of laughter. Or floods of tears...because this is what her love life has come to. It’s both hilarious and really fucking depressing.
Just like her luck.
“You want me...to have sex...with you...” She spaces the words out – enunciates them – just to make sure she didn’t hear him wrong.
He nods gruffly.
“Quil, let’s get one thing straight.” Leah takes a step forward, fighting back the urge to toss his short, stocky ass out of her kitchen and down the cliff behind the house. “There are about a hundred guys on this reservation I would let stick their dicks inside me before you.”
Quil’s face falls a little, and she knows she’s hurt his feelings. That fucking puppy dog face. She knows that look, too. Out of all the guys in the pack, he has it mastered. It’s how he gets out of overnight patrols, and how he gets Sam to stop screaming at him for being too busy licking his own nuts to pay attention to vampires that happen to wander onto the Rez.
But it’s also the one that reminds her that this poor guy really doesn’t have an ounce of game, and he really does have to rely on that youthful facade of naivete in order to get what he wants. It makes girls feel sorry for him, but it also ensures they don’t stick around.
Because if they really wanted someone to mother, he’d be getting laid and she wouldn’t be in this fucking predicament.
And she knows that’s probably a large part of why he’s asking her this in the first place. No one else will do it. No one will let him get far enough to try.
A twinge of something ripples through her.
Guilt?
God dammit.
“Come on, Leah.”
He’s whining now. Fuck, she hates it when he does this. It makes her want to smack that sloppy grin right off his face.
“There’s no one else I can ask, and I have a date on Friday. A real honest to god date, and Leah, I don’t want to fuck this up.” He stops for a second, blinking himself, a macho glaze spreading across his expression as he realizes what he’s saying is making him sound like a gigantic pussy. He clears his throat. “I mean, I don’t really understand why girls aren’t climbing over each other to get to this, but I want to be able to satisfy their needs and shit, too.
Leah squeezes her eyes shut and holds up her hand. “Okay, just...stop. For one, that right there is why you can’t get laid, Ateara.”
“That’s why I neeeeed you.” He drags out the word, bordering right on the edge of a full-out tantrum.
Leah’s eye twitches anxiously.
“I need something to leverage the fact I’m not really as cool as everyone thinks I am.”
Leah snorts.
“And you’re...hot...and stuff.”
Leah bites her lip, fighting the grin. He’s really whipping out the big guns for this one.
“And you know what you’re doing.” Quil shifts his weight nervously from one foot to the other, his hands now shoved in his pockets. “And you’re probably one of the only girls who won’t slap me into next week for asking.”
“You sound awful sure of yourself.”
On the outside, Leah’s putting up a fight. Inside, however, his stupid, petulant pouty face is still chipping away at something. Something deep down. That part of her that, as a woman, has experienced bad sex. That part of her that would have rather chewed her arm off than wake up the sea creature sleeping next to her.
The part of her that thought if only one of the women before her would have stopped coddling the bastard and showed him how it’s done.
And Quil’s still her friend – has been since the day she punched him in the nose on the playground outside the rez school.
And a little part of her can’t help but not want Quil to be that sea creature.
“Please?” The wide eyes are back.
It’s Leah’s turn to sigh. He’s never going to give up.
And frankly, it’s been awhile for her, too.
Fuck it.
Several minutes later they’re both standing in her bedroom. Quil’s positioned in front of the door with his arms crossed tightly against his chest, eyes raking over her still-clothed body. He’s awkwardly rocking back and forth.
She rolls her eyes. “Okay, let’s just pretend I’m this girl. Things will be easier that way. Just forget I’m me and I’ll forget you’re, well...you.”
Things will definitely be easier that way.
But he’s still just standing there.
Pursing her lips, she knows it’s up to her to get things moving.
So she goes for broke.
Crossing the space between them, Quil lets out a high-pitched squeak when she presses her body against his, pushing him roughly against the door. A moment later, her hand moves from her side, palming his already stiff cock through his jeans.
She closes her eyes, ignoring the deer-in-the-headlights look he’s giving her, covering his mouth with hers, the salty taste of his lips contrasting against the Chapstick she probably shouldn’t have put on before he showed up at her house.
A moment later, she feels his hands curl around her shoulders, fingers digging into skin as he opens his mouth to her. As he returns the kiss, his tongue brushes against hers, and even though he makes strange, breathy noises in his throat, he nips at her bottom lip and she realizes he’s really not too bad at this part.
Good, she thinks. Less we have to go through.
Stepping back, Leah holds his bewildered stare as she grabs the hem of her tank top and peels the piece of clothing from her body. Quil’s eyes immediately fall to her breasts, completely on display for him. He’s seen them before but never like this, and the wonderment in his gaze is nothing short of completely obvious.
“Usually you’re supposed to do this part, by the way.”
“Huh?” Quil’s still staring.
“Eyes up here.” Leah points at him before redirecting the gesture to her own eyes. “You’re having sex with the girl, not with her tits...well, not unless she asks you to.”
“WHAT?”
Leah needs to stop rolling her eyes. Her dad always said they’d eventually get stuck that way and she’s starting to believe it might be possible. “We’ll save that lesson for another day."
“...really?”
"Take off your fucking shirt.”
He does as he’s told. Leah takes a moment to assess the goods – the body she’s going to let inside her, completely against her better judgment. In reality, Quil’s not bad looking. Definitely more ripped than some of their pack brothers, and the goofy grin and curly hair negates most of the douchebag stigma muscles could attach to him.
But she stares a little too long and Quil, of course, notices.
"I realize my unbelievably rippling abs can be distracting,” he smirks, “but even I know there’s more to it than this.”
This time Leah stops herself before she rolls her eyes. She scowls at him instead.
“Shut the fuck up, Ateara.” She jabs one finger at the floor in front of her. “Now do you want to do this or not?”
The next few minutes are lost in a blur of more kisses and a sea of fumbling hands struggling with buttons, zippers and elastic. At some point, Leah realizes they’re finally both naked, so she reaches down, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth while she runs her fingers down his hardened length. He’s not as big as some of the guys, but he’s definitely got more going for him than Sam ever did. Not to mention he’s a hell of alot wider.
She shudders a little bit in spite of herself.
“I like what we’re working with here,” she whispers into his mouth, stroking his ego right alongside his cock. Sometimes, it’s necessary.
Quil swells with pride the same time he pushes himself into her hand.
“Easy,” she murmurs. “We got time. Don’t come on too strong, at least not the first time.”
He nods, hands cupping her face and swallowing her words with his mouth. He gets a little too into it this time, and she can feel the spit on her chin. She swallows back the groan bubbling in her throat, clamping his face between her hands and guiding his lips to her neck.
She wipes her chin with the back of her hand when he’s not looking.
It’s forgivable, she tells herself. We can work on that later.
She still really can’t believe she’s doing this, and she knows Quil can’t keep a goddamn secret. The whole pack is going to know about this before dinnertime. While a part of her knows she’s in for it – that she’s never going to live this down – another part of her is deliciously vengeful at the idea.
Sam’s going to fucking kill him.
And the idea alone – the image of her straddling Quil, screaming out his name, on repeat in her former fiancé’s mind – is enough to make her salivate.
So she manages to turn them around before planting one hand on Quil’s chest, pushing him back. His eyebrows shoot up the same time he stumbles backward, clumsily sprawling across the width of her bed. He’s completely ready for her, but she’s going to drag this out just a little. For his sake.
And hers.
She places her hands on either side of him, crawling up the length of his body as he just watches her, mouth hanging open like an idiot.
“Jesus Christ, Quil.” She stops her ascent, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Work on your poker face. At least pretend this is something you do all the time.”
Quil allows his head to fall back against the bed, clearing his throat at the same time. He’s still fighting a smile. “Gotcha.” His lips twitch again. “Get ready to swan-dive into the best night of your life, baby.”
She silences him by bending over him, flicking her tongue over the tip of his dick.
“Oh, shit!”
She stops, eyeing him skeptically. He’s peering down at her through hooded eyes, mouth still agape. He lets his head fall back again. “I’m fine,” he breathes. “God dammit, keep going.”
She shakes her head, using one hand to gather her hair over her shoulder, this time taking his entire length into her blazing mouth.
His whole body seizes but after a few minutes, he adjusts to the feel of her movements – her hand working in rhythm with her mouth – and relaxes slightly, but not enough to keep the string of wound-up expletives from escaping his own mouth.
After a few minutes, she opens her eyes, releasing him with a pop. His breath leaves him in one swift exhale, and she can’t help but feel slightly pleased with herself. She hasn’t lost her touch completely.
“Jesus fuck, you’re good at that,” Quil rasps, gaping at the ceiling, arms splayed wide across her bed.
“Practice makes perfect,” she replies matter-of-factly. Raising her eyebrows at him, Leah crawls to his side, turning her body so she’s leaning against the pillows. He’s watching her intently, but her expression doesn’t move a muscle as she brings her knees to her chest, slowly parting her thighs and fighting an amused grin as Quil’s stare automatically redirects a lot lower than her face.
“Now, this is usually the part where you return the favor.”
Quil’s eyes go wide once again, and he’s still gaping as he props himself up on his elbows. “Umm, I...um, I don’t know...fuck.”
She cocks an eyebrow at him. “Have you ever done this to a girl before?”
By now he’s sitting up and he’s shaking his head vigorously. “I’m no good at baseball, Lee.”
“What?”
“Second base and I usually strike out.”
The defeat in his voice grates on her nerves, and she knows she needs to do something to get that confidence going again, or else this definitely isn’t going to be worth her time. “Well, what the fuck did you ask me to do this for then?” She doesn’t mean it to be rude; she means it more as a kick in the ass.
And just to make sure he doesn’t get confused, she slips two fingers into her mouth, rolling her tongue around each one before popping them out with a seductive smile. She lets her hand travel down her abdomen, Quil’s eyes following it like its his last lifeline. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she doesn’t really give it a second thought as she lets her fingers glide between her legs, taking her time as she moves them both over her clit.
Showing Quil what he could have if he just steps up to bat and has faith in the fact he could probably hit a homerun if he just fucking shut his mouth and tried.
He’s off his ass in a flash, suddenly kneeling before her, hands wrapped around her thighs as he pulls her farther down the bed. Leah can’t help the astonished noise that slips from her throat, weirdly – and pleasantly – surprised at his little show of dominance. She smiles a little bit, thinking they might be getting somewhere.
But without a word, his head’s between her thighs and his tongue is lapping a mile a minute like a goddamn cat drinking milk from a bowl and she realizes she probably spoke too fucking soon.
“Quil...”
He hums a little bit against her center, and she writhes before she realizes what she’s doing, and she doesn’t miss the snicker that erupts from his mouth.
But then he’s back to licking and she remembers why she spoke up in the first place.
“Quil!”
This time he stops, peering up at her from between her legs. She tilts her head up, projecting all the sincerity she possibly can into her expression.
“That’s good. No fear is good,” she encourages, feeling like a fucking soccer coach giving his team of seven-year-olds a much needed pep talk, but she reminds herself that sometimes when it comes to the birds and the bees, you have to get right back to the basics.
“Just...slow it down a little. Mix it up. Use your whole mouth, not just your tongue.” He’s listening intently at this point, head bobbing in acknowledgement, picking up in both speed and enthusiasm the more she talks.
She lays back, preparing herself, hoping like hell Quil is a fast learner and this isn’t something they’re going to have to go over a million times, because her mom only had to run to the grocery store after her doctor’s appointment and Leah doesn’t have all fucking...
Fuuuuuck!
Leah’s thoughts are abruptly shattered, and a moan escapes her lips, when Quil does exactly as he’s told, sucking this time instead of licking, causing a flurry of stars and white light to explode behind her eyelids. Heat instantly courses through her veins, even as he relinquishes his hold on her, pressing his tongue against her center and dragging it slowly and roughly up her clit.
Her fingers curl inherently around the quilt beneath her, her back arching involuntarily off the bed.
Her head swims for a split second.
Fuck me, the idiot is a fast learner.
“That’s good,” she murmurs, chewing awkwardly on her lip as he continues and her body bucks once again. “Really...good...keep...going.”
She can feel herself reaching that edge, and fuck if she isn’t completely impressed and turned on all at the same time because Quil fucking Ateara is about to give her an honest to god orgasm, using a mouth she swore nothing worthwhile ever came from.
But then the heat is gone. The pressure disappears and Leah’s left dangling just before she careens back down to where she was before they started.
“What the fuck, Quil?”
Her eyes snap open and even though she’s still reeling a bit, she glowers at him only to realize he’s upright and once again on his knees, hand curled expectantly around his cock. He’s looking at her hesitantly like she’s about ready to rip it right off his body.
“I...I’m sorry,” he stammers. “Just thought you might wanna, um, save that for the real thing.”
Leah scowls at him in disbelief, shaking her head as she lets it fall back against the bed. She’s trying really hard not to scold him because in all honesty, she really wanted him to finish what he was doing. Instead, she takes a deep breath and stares at the tiny crack in the ceiling directly above her bed.
“Okay...” She paces herself so it doesn’t come out as bitchy word vomit. “That was good...great, actually. But Quil...there is no such thing as too many orgasms, and if you can make a girl have more than one in one go, she’s going to...appreciate you even more.”
Silence. “You think?”
“I know.”
He’s watching her as she props herself up on her elbows, her feet planted against the bed. Head tipping to one side, she uses an index finger to beckon him closer. “Alright, Ateara...now comes the real test. Let’s see what you got.”
He grins a little bit, visibly excited she’s going to let him drive this for a moment. After a successful second try at the oral portion of the afternoon, she can see the confidence rippling across his expression. She knows she’s on the right track, so turning him loose for a bit seems like a logical next step.
And all she can do is hope to god she won’t regret it.
His movements become intricate as he guides himself between her legs, bending slightly as he positions himself at her entrance. She lays there with as much patience as she’s capable of as he over-studies the logistics of it. Just before he makes his move, he glances up at her as he leans down, eyes wide and asking for permission, and she hitches her thighs around his hips.
She gives him one swift nod and flashes him her best encouraging smile.
And he pushes his body toward hers, easily sliding into her.
Another involuntary moan escapes her mouth as he fills her completely, her inner walls protesting against his size but giving way slowly the longer he remains there.
Yet he doesn’t move. Leah grunts and wiggles her hips against his, urging him to move, but he doesn’t.
Instead, his breathing picks up speed and his body shifts anxiously.
Like something’s wrong.
“Oh, god.” Quil finally breaks the pungent silence hanging in the room. “Ohhhh, god.”
Her eyes snap open at his words.
God dammit, Quil, don’t make me regret this.
Quil hovers over her, brow scrunching in concentration, almost like he’s in pain. His eyes are wild when he looks at her. She blinks in stunned amazement at the unnecessary rising panic in his tone.
“Is it supposed to be that tight?” he hisses. “Oh, fuck. Leah...I don’t think it’s supposed to be that tight!”
Now she’s starting to regret this.
“Quil!” she exclaims, stretching one arm, putting a finger to his lips to silence him. “That’s a good thing. You’ll know if you move.”
He nods briskly, almost like he’s trying to convince himself. Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, he gathers his bearings. Once he does, he pulls out of her – so slowly, so agonizingly, it almost does feel good, and she has to try to keep her mouth shut and her eyes open.
"Fuuuck..."
She can't keep that one to herself.
And she’s not going to regret this.
A stupid grin explodes across his face as he rocks back into her, with a little more force this time, before pulling out and repeating the action.
“Is that good? Do you like that?” he whispers, his voice bordering between seduction and wanting an honest answer.
“Feels good,” she replies, focusing on the sensation of him moving inside her. Wanting to get the most out of this at the same time. “Just remember...this is just like before. Mix it up.” He picks up his pace a little in response, making it a point to drive farther into her. She fights to catch her breath. “Don’t be afraid to...ahh...get into...to take control.”
So that’s exactly what he does, pulling out of her almost completely before driving back into her body as hard as he can. She gasps as he fills her to the hilt, and again she finds herself thinking that maybe Quil Ateara is just a really fast learner and she might not have her work cut out for her when it comes to this.
Which is around the same time he gets a little too overzealous, his body fully separating from hers before he throws himself forward. Too quickly. Too recklessly.
Aiming a little too low.
Missing his target.
“OW!” Leah snaps out of her momentary haze and instinctively reaches up, smacking Quil’s face without giving it a second thought. “That’s my ass, you shithead!”
His shoulders lurch with a suppressed laugh before he dips his head, clearing his throat before chancing a look at her. “Fuck, Leah, I’m sorry.” Then it registers he might have actually pissed her off, and that doe-faced, wide-eyed stare comes back. “You’re not gonna make me stop, are you?”
“I suggest you keep going, or I just fucking might.”
He knows she’s serious and at this point definitely doesn’t want to press his luck, so he tries again, making it a point to stay inside her – where he’s supposed to be – as he moves. It only takes a few minutes for Leah to refocus on his movements, relaxing into the comfort of the quilt at her back. She closes her eyes, registering his fingernails as they dig into her thigh. His panting breaths fan across her skin.
She finds herself helping him out, arching her hips to meet his, allowing the depth he can’t quite reach on his own. For a moment she forgets her reservations and why she thought it was a bad idea.
For a moment she realizes she’s enjoying herself all over again.
A pleasured groan bubbles from her throat, and Quil immediately responds to it.
“Dammit, this is great...so fucking great...” She somehow manages to watch him through half-closed eyelids, and his head is tilted toward the ceiling, mouth open like he’s praying. Giving thanks to whatever spirits made Leah feel generous today. “You’re so fucking sexy. Why the fuck didn’t we do this sooner?” he breathes, following his gratitude with a guttural moan.
“Quil...” She pushes the word from her dry mouth.
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Okay.”
By this point, he’s doing what he needs for her lady bits, but the rest of her is feeling a little neglected, so she amps up the physical contact. She runs her hands through the sweaty strands of hair on top of his head and he responds to that, too, dragging his mouth against the skin at the base of her neck. Leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses there. Even though his pace slows just slightly when he does, she hums her approval, giving him the green light to keep going. His hands explore the skin of her midsection, and she somehow lets her inhibitions go completely when she shudders beneath them.
He pulls back at one point, looking at her like he’s won the goddamn lottery. His features glisten with perspiration, and even when a drop of sweat rolls off the tip of his nose and hits her smack in the mouth, she somehow resists the urge to push both him and his dick to the other side of the room.
Instead, she pushes it to the back of her mind.
Because for someone who was a virgin, Quil’s more than got a handle on the basics. Blame it on the animal instincts, but it’s easy for even Leah to see. Sure, he’s kind of awkward and she can now taste the saltiness of that sweat on her lips, but so long as he refrains from talking and keeps his head in the game instead of in the clouds where it normally is, overall, the kid definitely doesn’t give himself enough credit.
But then again, Leah realizes it could just be the hormones and her misfiring nerves talking.
Or the building heat and pressure in the base of her stomach.
Either or.
Regardless, she decides to reward him. To give him a little treat for being such a receptive, eager listener.
Channeling the strength no other woman would be able to use on him, she clamps her arms and legs against his body and throws her weight against him, causing them both to roll in one surprisingly fluid motion. Leah’s now on top of him and he’s still inside her, except he’s gaping at her like he’s fucking in love or something.
She takes one hand and drags it down his face in an attempt to wipe the smug, astonished look off his features. She’s still grinning all the same.
A surprised squeak erupts from his mouth when she plants her hands roughly against his chest, bracing herself as she rolls her hips against him. She watches his eyes disappear into the back of his head, as he realizes this has very little to do with him and his experience. Figuring out he gets to simply lay back and enjoy what she has in store.
After all, this was the vision she had in her head the entire time. Fuck if she wasn’t going to capitalize on it.
She keeps rocking back and forth, and his fingers once again dig into her hips, lifting her slightly before lowering her, hard enough that it would probably hurt a normal woman. Not her, though, and it only takes a couple moments for him to realize he needs to match her movements just slightly and push back. And once he does, that pressure returns in her stomach.
She squeezes her eyes shut, fingernails scraping against his chest as she leans forward slightly. The movement makes him inadvertently hit that place inside her she knows will push her right over the edge.
And as Leah’s mouth falls open and her movements abruptly cease, it does.
“Holy shit!”
She ignores the dumbstruck awe in Quil’s voice as he realizes what’s happening on top of him. The waves of heat rip through her, her muscles contracting and relaxing as tremors erupt across her blazing skin. She rides it out as he somehow regains his own bearings, realizing he needs to keep going if he wants to come out of this with any type of selfish gain of his own. He pushes into her a couple more times, dragging out her climax, and a feral growl leaves his mouth and winds its way right around Leah’s senses as he finds his own edge.
Holy shit, she repeats in her head as she finally starts to come down.
And she can’t help the chuckles that slip out from between her lips because she thought this was a dumb idea and she could have sworn she was going to fucking regret ever letting Quil Ateara get anywhere near her with his dick.
But in reality, it wasn’t that bad.
In reality, she doesn’t regret it.
Fuck.
***
Friday night rolls around like all the others.
Leah’s curled up on her couch, simply enjoying some alone time since she’s not being forced to spend her entire weekend patrolling for vampires that never seem to fucking show up.
None of that this weekend. Instead, she’s vegging out in front of the television, wearing an old t-shirt and a ratty pair of sweats, completely taking advantage of the fact her mom’s over at Charlie Swan’s and her brother is the one who got stuck with the Friday night patrol. She’s watching reruns of The Golden Girls and there’s no one here to stick their grubby hands in her bowl of popcorn.
This is Leah’s definition of peace and quiet.
But she realizes quickly she spoke too soon.
The front door opens and closes, and her body tenses as she listens to the sound of shuffling footsteps approaching the living room. She doesn’t bother to look because it only takes a moment for her to realize who it is. There’s only one person she knows who makes that much noise when he sulks.
Quil collapses on the couch next to her with a loud sigh. Neither of them speaks a word, but she ventures a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He’s not paying attention to her; instead, his eyes focus on the television, his expression completely stoic.
She’s still watching him when his hand lifts, stretching across his lap toward her bowl of popcorn.
She snaps to her senses the same time she smacks the offending appendage.
“Ow!” he exclaims loudly, finally looking at her.
She snorts. “That didn’t fucking hurt.”
His lower lips juts out. “It could have.”
It takes a couple seconds before Leah realizes it’s still Friday and this was supposed to be the night Quil went on his date. Yet he’s here, sitting next to her on the couch, and one glance at the clock above the television reveals it’s barely past ten.
“So...” She’s not sure this is a territory she’s supposed to venture into, but she can’t help but ask because after all, if there was one thing this week taught her, she has an inexplicable weakness for that petulant, pouty look. The look that tricks her into thinking she gives a shit. “How was the date?”
“Horrible.” He didn’t even hesitate before the word escaped his lips. “Bitch was nuts. Like certifiable, grade-A crazy.”
“Did you make it past second base?”
He eyed her skeptically. “Yeah...”
“Good for you,” Leah murmurs, slipping a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
“No.” Quil’s shaking his head now. “Just...no. It wasn’t like...it wasn’t like it was before. She wanted me to do some...some nasty shit, and she was just...rough...and I don’t know...” He laces his fingers together in his lap and drops his gaze to his hands for a second before his head snaps toward her. “I didn’t like it, okay? Fuck.”
Leah feels her eyebrows raise and a smile pull at her lips. She’s looking at Quil again, and she wishes she could gouge out that tiny shred of smugness she feels deep in her gut. She’s not sure if it’s her inherent competitiveness shining through, knowing that Quil thought she was just that damn good, or if she was simply pleased with the fact he knew what he wanted.
What he wanted being her.
She seriously fucking hopes it’s the first option.
And not just for his sake.
God dammit.
Leah’s watching television again, but she takes a deep breath and she can hear him holding his, waiting for what she’s about to say.
“So are you going to see her again?”
He swallows thickly, debating the words he’s sure to say anyway because that’s what Quil does. He speaks without thinking. He has no filter. It’s what got them into this mess in the first place.
He lets out a resigned, matter-of-fact breath.
“I think I need a few more lessons before I even think about going out with her again...”
Leah bites down hard on the inside of her lip. They say you reach a lot of points in your life where you can choose one of two paths, and she can’t help but feel like she is reaching one of those crossroads. She knows what Quil’s saying, and if there’s one thing she’s absolutely sure of, no good is going to come from it.
No good at all.
But she can’t help but think how much fun it might be to tailor the poor sucker to her needs. Her likes. Her desires. Like her very own personal sex slave, and of course she knows Quil will be completely on board with it.
And she tries to ignore the fact all those sadistic, immoral ideas mix right in with other reasons. The fact she can still remember the warmth of his lips on her skin. The feel of him inside her. The heat within her as she fell apart beneath his hands.
Fuck.
“You’re a glutton for punishment,” she mutters, the jab not exclusively directed at him as she tightens her hold on the popcorn bowl.
“Could say the same to you,” he replies quickly, picking up the irony in the same breath. “But let’s be honest, Leah...it was good cuz we're neck deep in the sweet waters of friendship and trust.”
She snorts this time because she knows no matter how many “lessons” she teaches him, the guy will never have any game. Period.
Shaking her head, she sits the popcorn bowl on the coffee table before rising to her feet. “So do those pickup lines from the Old Spice commercials work on all the girls?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Those are Quil Ateara originals.”
She heaves a deep sigh as she turns to face him. “Quil?”
He grins, his eyes following her as she cocks a knowing eyebrow at him. “Yeah?”
She thinks long and hard – but not too long – before she offers him her hand.
“Shut the fuck up.”
His grin reaches the corners of his face and after a moment, he takes it.
“Okay.”’
