Page 14

North

The hum of the engine filled the silence between us as I drove, one hand gripping the wheel, the other resting on my thigh. Quinn sat beside me, her fingers twisting the hem of her dress, fidgeting. She wasn’t usually like this—nervous, uncertain. I hated that she was. Hated that I was the reason for it.

And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

My eyes flickered toward her, stealing glances when I thought she wouldn’t notice. She looked different tonight—soft in a way that made my chest feel tight. The dress was simple, nothing flashy, but it clung to her in all the right places, and I couldn’t help but imagine peeling it off her. Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and she smelled like something sweet, something delicate.

Something I was about to ruin.

The thought made me grip the wheel tighter. This wasn’t supposed to be hard. I was supposed to bring her here, let Victor and the others remind her of who she was—of who her father was—watch her break under it, and walk away with nothing but the satisfaction that she’d finally felt the weight of what she’d walked into. That was the plan. That was always the plan.

So why the fuck did my stomach twist every time I looked at her?

“You okay?” she asked suddenly, her voice soft, hesitant.

I forced a smirk. “Yeah, rabbit. Just thinking.”

She nodded, but I caught the way her fingers clenched against her dress, the way her lips parted slightly like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. A part of me wanted to reach over and take her hand, to tell her she didn’t have to go if she didn’t want to.

Instead, I turned into Victor’s driveway, tires crunching over the gravel as the house loomed ahead of us. The estate was lit up like a goddamn palace, the glow of expensive lights casting long shadows over the manicured lawn. Laughter and music spilled out onto the night air, and my jaw clenched at the sound.

This was a mistake.

I killed the engine and sat there for a moment, gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. The urge to turn around, to take her somewhere else, anywhere else, clawed at the edges of my mind. But how the fuck could I do that when it meant abandoning the others—my best friends.

“North?” Quinn’s voice pulled me back. She was looking at me now, concern flickering in her hazel eyes. “You sure you’re okay?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and smirked, reaching over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into the touch—trusting, unaware. “Yeah, rabbit. Let’s go.”

She hesitated but nodded, reaching for the door handle. I stepped out first, walking around the car before she could fully open her door. I wasn’t a fucking gentleman, but for some reason, I didn’t want her walking in there alone.

As soon as we stepped inside, the air changed. The space was filled with bodies—too many people, too much noise. The smell of expensive cologne, alcohol, and something heavier—weed or cigars—hung in the air. Eyes turned toward us the second we entered, recognition flickering across familiar faces. Smirks, whispers, knowing glances. It made my skin itch.

Quinn tensed beside me, gripping my arm as she scanned the room. “You didn’t tell me it was going to be this big,” she whispered, her voice laced with unease.

I squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. You’re with me.”

That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? My father was going to fucking kill me when he found out about this.

I spotted Victor near the bar, lounging like he owned the place. He caught my eye and lifted his glass in silent acknowledgment before pushing off the counter and making his way toward me. His smirk was lazy, calculated.

“North,” he greeted, clapping a hand on my shoulder. His dark eyes flicked to Quinn, and something unreadable passed through them before a smirk crawled onto his features.

“Quinn,” he purred, dropping a kiss on her cheek while I bit back the jealousy of seeing his lips on her skin. Ignoring the urge to snatch her back and clean it off, I settled for glaring at him while she raised an eyebrow.

“Victor, you’re not usually this friendly.” Her voice was sarcastic, and the frisson of pleasure I felt at hearing it was fucked up, but real. We didn’t need her to be aware that something was going on.

Bending to place a kiss on her collarbone, I murmured, “He’s high, rabbit. Can’t you see his eyes? They’re glassy as fuck.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it still made me uncomfortable when she rolled her eyes, accepting my version of the truth. Vic might’ve been smoking, but he was still stone-cold sober from what I could see. Just a bit relaxed.

Ignoring us both, Vic took out his phone and drawled, “Summer’s by the bar. Why don’t you get your boy a drink? And I’m sure she’ll have something there for you as well. Coke, or water. Whatever the fuck girls drink these days.”

“I’d say fuck you, but I’m actually thirsty,” Quinn mumbled, rolling her eyes. “Is beer fine?”

“Yeah.” I ran my fingers through my hair. It would probably help to calm the nervous energy making my fingers twitch.

Quinn nodded, her expression distracted as she glared at Victor once more and then left.

“Ready for tonight?” he murmured, the second she was far enough away.

My jaw tightened. “Dude, shut the fuck up. What if someone hears you?” I hissed under my breath, but the words felt hollow even to me. I wasn’t worried about anyone else hearing. The music was pounding, and even if everyone around could hear, most of them were just as glassy-eyed as Victor was.

Victor chuckled, sipping his drink. “Relax. Everyone already has an idea of what’s going on.” Then he studied me, his smirk faltering. “Shit. Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.”

I didn’t answer. My eyes flickered toward Quinn, who was laughing softly at something by the bar, her fingers wrapped around a drink. Her genuine smile stung more than it should have.

“I haven’t,” I said, but the words felt like poison on my tongue.

Victor didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press. “Good,” he murmured, taking another sip. “Because you know what’s at stake.”

I knew. I just didn’t know if I cared anymore.

Glancing at me, Quinn tipped her head in the direction of one of the leather couches. I nodded, clapping Victor on the shoulder before going to join her.

She looked so fucking out of place. Her fingers traced the rim of her glass absentmindedly, her expression distant. Vulnerable. Fuck, she shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be with me.

I sat down beside her, forcing a smirk. “Enjoying yourself?”

She looked up at me, searching my face for something I wasn’t sure she’d find. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I’m having fun.”

Liar. But I wasn’t any better.

“Want to have some more fun?” I leaned in, my lips brushing against the curve of her neck. The warmth of her skin sent a shiver down my spine.

She stiffened instantly, her fingers gripping the edge of her dress. “North,” she hissed, shoving me back slightly. “What are you doing? What if someone sees us?”

I didn’t answer; I just let my fingers trail over her knee, slowly sliding up. “I need you,” I muttered thickly. My cock ached despite the guilt sinking its claws into me. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere more private.”

She faltered, biting her lip, her eyes darting toward the room full of people. I could see the hesitation warring in her, the uncertainty. But then her gaze met mine, and whatever was left of her resistance crumbled.

She nodded, setting her drink down. “Okay.”

I took her hand and led her away from the crowd, away from the knowing smirks, the weight of Victor’s gaze burning into my back. My grip on her tightened slightly, possessive, desperate.

This was going to destroy her, but that had been the whole plan.

The door clicked shut behind us, muffling the music and laughter from the party outside. The room was dimly lit, cast in the warm glow of a single lamp on the bedside table. It was one of Victor’s many guest rooms, sleek and impersonal, decorated in muted tones of deep blue and gray. It smelled like expensive cologne and the faint scent of cigars, a stark contrast to the wild beat of my own pulse hammering in my ears.

Quinn turned to face me, her expression uncertain, her hands nervously smoothing down the front of her dress. She was beautiful, too beautiful, and it only made the guilt coil tighter in my stomach. I shouldn’t be here with her. I shouldn’t want this. But I did. I wanted it more than I wanted to breathe.

She looked up at me through her lashes, her hazel eyes searching mine for something—reassurance, maybe. An answer. “North, why did we—?”

I cut her off before she could finish, closing the distance between us in two quick strides. My hands found her waist, fingers digging in like I was anchoring myself to her. “Don’t talk,” I muttered, my voice rough, desperate. “Just… don’t.”

She sucked in a sharp breath as I pressed my forehead to hers, my fingers trailing up her back, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her chest against mine. Her body was warm, her scent wrapping around me, fucking intoxicating. She always smelled like summer and something sweet, something I couldn’t name but was becoming dangerously addicted to.

Her lips parted, hesitation flickering across her features. “North, are you okay?”

No, I wasn’t. I was fucking drowning.

But I couldn’t tell her that.

Instead, I crushed my mouth to hers, swallowing whatever words she had left. She gasped against me, her body tensing for a fraction of a second before she melted into me, her hands coming up to clutch at my shirt like she needed me just as badly.

I couldn’t be gentle. Not now. Not when my head was a fucking mess, not when my entire body ached for her. My hands roamed hungrily, slipping beneath the hem of her dress, dragging my fingers along the soft skin of her thighs as I pushed her back toward the bed.

She gasped as the back of her knees hit the mattress, her fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt. “North—”

“I need you,” I rasped, my voice rough, pleading. “Please, Quinn. I can’t—”

I broke off, pressing my lips to her throat, sucking a mark into her skin, needing to claim her, to remind myself that she was real, that this was real. My hands gripped her hips, my fingers digging into the soft flesh as I guided her onto the bed, crawling over her, trapping her beneath me.

Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts as she stared up at me, her pupils blown wide with something between hesitation and want. “Tell me what’s going on,” she whispered.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Instead, I kissed her again, deeper this time, my tongue sliding against hers, tasting, taking. She whimpered into my mouth, her nails scraping along my arms, leaving behind a trail of heat.

I tugged at the straps of her dress, pushing them down her shoulders, exposing more of her, more than I deserved to touch. My mouth followed the path of bare skin, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts.

She was intoxicating. Everything about her unraveled me, and I was losing my grip on whatever thread of self-control I had left.

My name fell from her lips in a breathless moan, and it shattered something inside me. I pulled back just enough to look at her, my chest heaving, my hands trembling against her skin. She was looking at me like I was something more than I was, like I wasn’t just the broken, fucked-up mess I knew myself to be.

She didn’t know.

She didn’t know what I was doing to her. What I was leading her into.

A war raged inside me—one part of me screaming at me to stop, to end this before it went any further, before she got hurt. The other part—the selfish, twisted part—wanted to take everything she was willing to give and keep it for myself.

I pressed my forehead against hers, my breaths ragged. “Tell me you want this,” I whispered hoarsely. “Tell me you need me as much as I need you.”

Her fingers tightened in my hair, pulling me down to her, her lips brushing against mine. “I do,” she breathed. “I do, North.”

“Tell me you’ll do anything for me,” I murmured, drinking in her scent as I moved down her body and spread her legs. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, and a groan rumbled from my chest as I unzipped my pants and opened her wider.

My dick was weeping, and I gripped it tightly as I leaned over her body, inserting myself into her wet pussy without any fanfare or foreplay. I didn’t need to, not when I knew she could take it.

“Anything,” Quinn moaned, crying out as I sank balls deep in one quick thrust.