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Thin Ice

Page 25

by Kayla Grosse

Quinn makes a sound between a groan and a whine, and I give her my full attention, annoyed this isn’t the first time I’ve let the past claw its way into my thoughts this week.

“Do I have to get up?” she asks, her voice scratchy.

“If you don’t want to be late for our first day, then yes.”

Quinn sighs and sits up, scrubbing a hand over her face. My gaze travels down to her chest. The comforter covering her has pooled at her generous waist, leaving her tits bare and her dusky pink nipples standing at attention in the cool air of the room. I wet my lips, dick jerking awake despite everything that’s happened in the last couple of days. We may be having issues, but my wife will always turn me on. And her heavy breasts have been one of my favorite parts of her body from the beginning.

Flashes of the first time we had sex appear behind my eyelids. While not a virgin, Quinn was inexperienced. She was confident in her body but struggled with it while naked, especially with breasts that were larger than most women had to deal with—so much so that she often thought about getting them reduced to help with back pain.

I’d spent a long time kissing and licking them, sucking her nipples into peaks and telling her how much I loved her body just the way it is. We discovered that night she could come from breast stimulation alone, and it’s one of my favorite things to do to her—or, I should say, it was.

When was the last time I teased and touched her until she was screaming out for me to fuck her hard and fast while she came on my cock, nails digging into my biceps for purchase?

Quinn clears her throat and pulls the sheet up over her chest, blocking my view. The action stabs me in the gut, but I attempt to push it aside. I know I haven’t earned looking at her with hunger or to think the things I’m thinking. I’ve been an ass, and I walked out last night when I should have put my pride and ego aside so we could talk. Maybe instead of me killing myself at the gym and her getting drunk at the pool bar, we could have worked through some of our issues and she’d be waking up hungover from pleasure instead of vodka cranberries, her drink of choice.

“I must have been really drunk last night if I slept naked,” she says. Normally, I’m the naked sleeper, and Quinn likes silk sets or long shirts.

“Do you remember anything?”

Her fingers grip the sheets in her hands. “It’s all coming back to me.”

I’m about to say sorry for everything when there’s a knock at the door, making Quinn and I jump.

She clutches the sheet harder to her chest. “Who could that be?”

“I called and asked for some breakfast to be brought to the bungalow instead of us eating with the group. I figured you needed a bit of extra sleep.”

“Oh.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “That was thoughtful of you.”

My chest warms a touch, glad I finally did something right, even if it’s the bare minimum I could do for her. “Why don’t you go shower and get ready? We have an hour before we need to meet at the main house.”

“You looked at the schedule?” Quinn’s pale-blue eyes are wide with curiosity, and one of her brows is lifted in question.

I rub the back of my neck, feeling sheepish for whatever reason. “Um, yeah. I studied it last night after I filled this out.” I pull the folded sheet of paper from the back of my jeans pocket and hand it to her. She takes it, opening it up and staring at it.

“You finished the intake form.”

“I did.”

Both hands clutch the outside of the already wrinkled and bent page. She doesn’t look at the answers. Instead, she gets out of bed, not caring about her nudity, and does the last thing I expect.

She hugs me.

I hold her to me without hesitation, wishing I hadn’t put my clothes on already. I want to feel her skin against mine and the press of her warm breasts into my chest. But this is good, more than good. My hands grip her waist tightly, my thumbs brushing the rolls of her sides.

“Thank you, Noah.”

I want to see her eyes, but I’m not ready to let go of her yet. “You don’t have to thank me. I should have filled it out yesterday, and I’m sorry I left. I shouldn’t have.”

Quinn pulls back, and I reluctantly let her, her eyes tracking in small movements like she’s searching my gaze to see if I told the truth. I don’t blink, don’t speak, just wait until a small smile lifts the corner of her mouth and she exhales, the muscles in her shoulders and face relaxing.

“I’m sorry I lied to you and that I got drunk. Thank you for taking care of me.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll always take care of you, Sunshine. I’m sorry I haven’t been.”

She parts her lips to respond, but another knock at the door stops her. I’d figured whoever brought breakfast would just leave it outside, but apparently not.

I kiss the tip of her nose then spin her toward the bathroom, giving her ass a playful pat—something I used to do all the time when I’d catch her bent over the counter or walking up the stairs ahead of me.