Page 113 of Hard Hitter

“What did I say?” Quinn’s eyebrows pulled together again.

“My owl,” she replied, “but it’s super cute, I like it.”

Quinn’s lips pulled up into an adorably embarrassed grin. “I’ll never be able to speak French.”

“I love that you’re trying,” said Raelyn, rolling up to make her way to the dresser.

By the time she turned back around to ask more about their trip to Paris in December, his phone was pressed to his ear again. With a quick apologetic look, he took the phone call out to her balcony, closing the door behind him.

Raelyn got dressed and watched him for a few moments. He was never particularly animated on the phone, and he kept his voice low. She wasn’t a huge fan of how much he had been on the phone lately, but she figured that was part of the package. With the knowledge that she would have to save her sexual appetite for later, she decided to head downstairs while he finished up his phone call and start making dinner for the two of them.

Quinn had just enough time to eat something and pack an overnight bag before Jett arrived to pick him up. With a short peck on thelips, Raelyn sent him out the door and then wandered back into the living room where her dad was watching TV. Since staying with her parents, Quinn and Charlie would spend their evenings watching MLB network, but tonight her dad put onThe Big Bang Theoryinstead and they watched a few episodes together.

Around nine o’clock, Raelyn made her way back up to her bedroom to pack her own overnight bag- she wasnotgetting caught leaving the hotel again in leggings and Quinn’s t-shirt. And no bra. Of course, in that particular instance she had been grateful for her lack of endowment in the chest region. Under Quinn’s large shirt, it was hard to tell she’d been braless in those photos.

Earlier in the week, Camille had been kind enough to go to her house and grab a large section of her wardrobe to bring over to their parent’s house. Searching through one of the bags she had yet to fully unpack, Raelyn was about to mentally kick herself for not making sure her sister had grabbed some lingerie when she came across a pile of lacy, strappy, mesh, and silky fabrics at the bottom of the bag.

“Oh, bless you, Camille,” Raelyn said under her breath.

Sorting through the various sets of bras and bustiers, thongs, and even a pair of crotchless panties, Raelyn settled on a black strappy bustier with lace so thin it looked almost silver. There was a pair of matching panties she knew she had yet to wear for Quinn, but the mere thought of keeping them on and watching him slide down her body, putting his face between her legs was enough to make her blush and feel that familiar warmth spread from her stomach, into her breasts and between her thighs.

It took a few tries to get all the straps in just the right places, but once she managed, she checked herself out in the full-length mirror. She couldn’t help nodding an approvingdayum, girlto herself. Tempted to snap a picture and send it to Quinn, she refrained. Partially because she wanted him to be surprised when he saw it in the flesh, but mostly because she didn’t need photos like that leaking all over the internet.

Raelyn rifled through her closet and found a blue sundress with a large white floral print, trying to look as innocent as possible. The cameras could catch her in this All-American girl sundress, and behind closed doors, Quinn could tear it off and they could set each other free. She could absolutely not wait for a full evening of raw, fiery, passion-fueled love making. She wanted to be able to take her time, do it hard and rough, then slow it down and be soft with each other. Her body was humming with anticipation, needing this night with Quinn as much as she needed to breathe.

It caught her off-guard to realize how intensely she had fallen for him in such a short period of time. But this didn’t feel like the typical new-relationship buzz. It was more than that. Looking at the pictures scattered on the wall over her desk, she took time to appreciate each one with her and Quinn together. These feelings had been building for almost a lifetime. She’d found the person who she could be her truest self with, and they were finally learning other ways to express the raw nature of who they were, both separately and as one.

It was past ten o’clock now, and Quinn had yet to text her that he was back at the hotel. Antsy and unable to stay put any longer, she made the decision to get out of the house. She’d been cooped up for days and was sick of feeling like she couldn’t go anywhere. She needed a drink. She was pacing back and forth with her overnight bag sitting at the front door, just waiting for the go-ahead from Quinn.

“Dad, I’m taking your car,” Raelyn said, grabbing the keys to his new Beamer.

Charlie had been pouring himself a glass of white wine in the kitchen and looked up at his daughter curiously. “Everything okay, Peaches?”

“I haven’t driven a car in days. I’ve barely left this house, and waiting for Quinn’s text is slowly killing me,” Raelyn explained, twirling the key ring around her finger. “I just need to get out.”

“Sure thing, kiddo,” Charlie said, then took a sip of his wine. “Drive safe. Call me if you need me.”

Raelyn gave her father a quick hug and headed to the far end of the house to the garage. When the garage door raised and the lightturned on, Charlie’s new black BMW 840i was so shiny, it looked chrome, reflecting everything in its surface. Raelyn had given him crap about buying his mid-life crisis vehicle -he usually opted for the SUVs- but sitting in the soft leather of the front seat and feeling the way it cushioned and wrapped her body so perfectly, she took back every mocking comment, every jab that she’d given. This car was perfection. The engine purred, and she thought she might simply drive this baby around until Quinn messaged her.

Aimlessly driving for about half an hour, she inevitably found herself parking across the street from Trojan Horse. She could easily have one glass of wine and still drive back to the hotel without issue. Taking her time to once again admire the gleam of the car’s brilliant surface beneath the streetlights, she eventually broke away and set off for the bar.

Holy Moses.

There was a line out the door. Sure, it was a Thursday night and there were games on, but Trojan Horse didn’t typically get quite this busy. Traverse City had more hipster vibes than jock aesthetic, and while any bar serving locally brewed craft beers could pull their weight, Trojan Horse had a more finely tuned demographic of customers.

Raelyn weighed her options. She could probably slip past the line, being a friend of the owners, but that might draw attention to herself. It hit her that the bar was likely getting more traffic since the articles about Chris and Jett being friends of Quinn’s had been printed, as well as the casual mentions of Quinn having spent much of his time at the bar in the past several weeks. Would Raelyn walking in make things completely blow up?

A glance down at her phone told her that Quinn had still not arrived at the hotel. She knew his room number but didn’t have the key yet. It was possible that he’d told the concierge to give her a key upon arrival, but he hadn’t told her that she needed to stop at the desk. She contemplated again before deciding to get into the bar through Jett’s apartment rather than use the main entrance.

Raelyn ducked her head low, hoping that no one would recognize her as she passed by the long line. The dark of the night was working in her favor in that regard, but she was silently wishing there was a little more light in the alleyway behind the bar.

Quickly slipping through the door, she ran up the stairs and into Jett’s apartment. The thunder of the music and crowd of people below was muffled, but the bass still vibrated through the floorboards. Her plan was to find something in Jett’s apartment that might disguise her so that she could sit at the bar. It was probably a ridiculous idea, but then again, no one seemed to recognize Clark Kent was Superman when he combed his hair and put on thick-rimmed glasses, right?

Just over a year ago, this apartment had been much like her second home, but Jett had made some updates and decor changes since then.

The red-brick walls of the living room were both manly and trendy. The glass-top coffee table was sleek, and surprisingly had coasters on it. She didn’t realize Jett was a tidy, coaster-using kind of guy. The kitchen wasn’t huge but was certainly big enough for one person. There was a bar with black bar stools separating the living room and kitchen, but no kitchen table. She figured Jett either sat at the bar or, more likely, ate his meals on the couch in front of the TV.

All the appliances were black stainless steel, and Raelyn found herself feeling rather impressed with Jett’s interior decorating skills. The place was definitely a man cave, but it was a classy man cave. Classy, but fun and cool. It gave off the vibe that the person who lived here was someone you could easily chill and have a beer or two with over good conversation.

---