Page 3

Quinn

Sleep was impossible.

I spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, my body tense, my mind a chaotic mess. Every time I closed my eyes, fragments of the day before came rushing back—the sharp, mocking lines of North’s smirk when I caught him fucking the blonde in the living room. His words to me, and the way his voice seemed to wrap around my throat, choking the air out of me. The memory of his dick and what it felt like with my hands wrapped around it… and how the only thing I could think at the time was that there was no way in hell he would fit.

That shouldn’t have even been one of the things on my mind, but the images wouldn’t leave: his hand gripping mine, the heat of his skin against my palm, the dark, predatory glint in his eyes as he pushed me to the edge of… what? Humiliation? Lust? Both?

What I hated most was the fact that he succeeded. My body throbbed for him, and I was wetter than I’d ever been before as I shifted under my bed covers, pressing my hands against my flushed cheeks as if I could scrub the memory away. It didn’t help. Every nerve hummed with the kind of heat I didn’t want to think about, the kind that made my stomach twist with shame and… something darker. Something I couldn’t name, but it was there, gnawing at me.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep because suddenly, I was dreaming. It was vivid and so raw, I could’ve easily fooled myself that it was real life. Because I was back in the living room, but it wasn’t the blonde sprawled out on the couch beneath North this time. It was me.

His hands gripped my thighs, pulling me closer as his body pressed against mine. The couch’s leather stuck to my skin, but all I could focus on was him. His scent surrounded me, that same wintery pine smell I had caught earlier, mixed with the heat of his sweat. It was intoxicating, overwhelming. Every sharp thrust sent a shockwave through me, and I couldn’t help the desperate sounds spilling from my lips. His smirk was still there, even in the dream, as if he knew exactly how to unravel me.

“You like that, don’t you, rabbit?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, every word sending shivers down my spine. “Knew you would. You’re so nice and wet for my cock, aren’t you? It’s all you can focus on.”

“Yes,” I stammered, arching my back until his lips located my nipple. Something about that, right then, felt like the hottest thing ever, and my fingers reached for his curls to shove him against me harder.

He pulled away with a wicked laugh, and although the words didn’t reach me, I could tell I was begging.

My hands clawed at his back, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath my fingers. His breath was hot against my neck, and his lips dragged along my skin, biting and teasing. The heat between us was unbearable, and yet I couldn’t get enough. My body arched into his, chasing every sensation, every touch, every word.

“Say it,” he growled, his teeth grazing my ear. “Say you want me.”

I woke with a gasp, my heart pounding, my body flushed and trembling. My fingers were between my thighs, pressed against my clit, and I jerked them away as if I’d been burned. Shame flooded through me, hot and suffocating. What the hell was wrong with me?

The wetness between my thighs made it difficult to tell if I’d actually orgasmed or not, but it was all over the bedsheets. My cheeks burned.

I sat up, breathing hard, my hands shaking as I pressed them to my face. The dream lingered, vivid and unrelenting, the phantom feel of his hands and his breath still etched into my skin. I couldn’t stop replaying it, couldn’t stop the heat pooling low in my stomach despite the humiliation curling in my chest.

By the time the first streaks of dawn crept through the windows, I felt like I had run a marathon in my head. Exhausted, restless, and angry at myself for how much I had let him get under my skin.

The house was quiet when I finally gave up on sleep and shuffled downstairs. My bare feet padded softly across the polished hardwood floors as I made my way to the kitchen.

An envelope caught my attention.

It was a folded envelope, sitting against the coffee machine on the counter, my name scrawled across the front in Mark’s neat handwriting. I stared at it for a long moment before picking it up, the paper crinkling slightly in my fingers. Inside was a short note:

Quinn,

Welcome to the family. We know this is a big adjustment, and we want you to feel at home here. To make things a little easier, we thought you might like this. Take care of it, and it’ll take care of you.

Mark

I frowned as I unfolded the second piece of paper—a set of car keys fell onto the counter with a metallic clink. My chest tightened as I stared at them. A car. He’d bought me a car.

I should have felt grateful. Excited, even. But all I could feel was hollow. What about Dad’s car? It was shitty and broke down at least twice in a week, but I couldn’t just sell it. Tears pricked my eyes. He took me to school in that car, brought me home, took me to my friends, every day for the past ten years. I couldn’t just abandon it.

No note from Mom, of course. Not even a signature on Mark’s letter.

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump rising in my throat. I refused to cry. Not here. Not now.

I busied myself making coffee, pouring the dark liquid into a mug and cupping it between my hands as I sat at the kitchen island. The warmth seeped into my skin, grounding me as I stared out the window at the lake. The water was calm, shimmering in the early morning light. It was beautiful, serene—the exact opposite of the storm raging inside me.

“Early start, rabbit?”

The voice shattered my fragile moment of peace. My stomach twisted as I looked up to see North standing in the doorway, shirtless, a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. His dark hair was damp, curling slightly at the ends, and his piercing eyes locked onto mine with a smug intensity that made my blood boil.

Last night’s dream came back in a rush, and I felt my body soften. Felt the way my pussy grew wet.

“Don’t call me that,” I muttered, gripping my mug tighter as I tried to focus on anything but him.

He ignored me, sauntering into the kitchen like he owned the place. Which, technically, he did. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes drifted to the car keys sitting next to me.

“What’s this?” he asked, his lips curving into that infuriating smirk. “A present? How sweet. Dad’s trying to buy your love.”

I didn’t answer, keeping my eyes on my coffee. But that only seemed to encourage him.

“You’re not used to nice things, are you?” he continued, his tone mocking. “You should probably get used to that, rabbit. Dad likes a good charity case. That’s why he became a lawyer.”

“Shut up, North,” I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them. I glared at him, but he only grinned wider, like he enjoyed the fire in my voice.

“Aw, don’t be like that, rabbit,” he purred, stepping closer. His voice dropped, rich and smooth like honey dripping over something poisonous. “I’m just trying to understand. Must be a big change for you, coming from…” He paused, tilting his head as if searching for the right words. “Well, whatever burrow you hopped out of.”

I slammed my mug down on the counter, the sound ringing through the kitchen. “Stop being a fucking asshole, North. You don’t know anything about me,” I hissed, my hands trembling with anger. “Or where I came from.”

He laughed, low and mocking, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, I think I know enough,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a whisper, and those blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “And last night? I think you know I’m right. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, rabbit?”

My pulse spiked, and I stepped back, but he followed, trapping me against the counter. His body radiated heat, his arms bracketing me in as he stared me down with that same infuriating smirk.

“You’d make a good whore, you know,” he said, his voice sharp and cruel. “Sell yourself to the highest bidder. Someone might even think you’re worth it.” He tilted his head, glancing down the length of my body. “Bet even a murderer’s pussy is warm when you give it enough attention.”

The words stung like a slap, and I shoved him, hard. He barely moved, but his grin only grew, like he thrived on my reaction.

“Get out of my way,” I said, my voice trembling with fury.

“Why?” he asked, leaning closer, his lips brushing against my ear. “Afraid you’ll like it?”

I didn’t think—I just acted, snatching the car keys and ducking under his arm, my heart pounding as I put as much distance between us as possible. His laughter followed me, low and mocking, as I stormed up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me.

My chest heaved, my hands shaking as I pressed them to my face, trying to block out the sound of his voice, the heat of his breath, the way he made me feel like I was teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

He wasn’t going to win. I wouldn’t let him.

But tears still fell when I looked back at the door. I thought we left those old rumors behind when we moved away from this town, but I guess it’s hard to forget when the town’s golden kid gets accused of murder.

Why didn’t you just prove them wrong, Dad?

It didn’t matter. I knew he wasn’t the one who killed Lila.

I straightened, taking a deep breath as I wiped away the angry tears that spilled. North Stirling might have the upper hand now, but this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. I had a whole fucking summer to make him realize how much he’s just fucked up.