Page 77 of Hard Hitter

"Apparently," Quinn sighed. He closed his eyes beneath his hat and he reflected on the past several hours. Just that morning before Rae left for the party, they'd had sex on the bathroom counter. She was getting ready to leave and had just put away all of her makeup and hair styling supplies before getting dressed. Quinn had come in, picked her up and set her sexy ass on the countertop. He'd dropped down to his knees and pulled her lacy panties down with his teeth and kissed his way up her thighs. He tongue-fucked her, using his mouth, fingers, sucking on her clit until she came. He pulled her legs around his waist and watched his cock fill her up while the first orgasm still rocked through her. Rae tangled her fingers in his hair and whispered sexy French phrases into his ear. He didn't know what they meant, butgoddamn, they made his cock hard.

And now he was here. Asking his friend for a ride because he'd gotten drunk with a bunch of guys he'd just met and decided to run his damn mouth.

There were plenty of reasons Quinn didn't surpass the two-drink mark. In part, he was wary of substance abuse and addiction. His psych 101 course in college had taught him that he was five times more likely to become an addict because his mother- and, in all likelihood, his father- was one. He hadn't retained much from that class that he'd taken the second semester of his freshman year, but that tidbit of information had stuck with him.

Another reason he avoided drinking too much was something he'd discovered sophomore year at Arizona State when he'd ignored that psychology statistic and joined his roommates at a kegger on frat row. When he drank he became more talkative. That's normal. But when he had a little too much, he became a shit talker. He got cocky. And often his old temper would kick in. He'd find himself wanting to fight someone for trash talking back, or because they looked at him wrong, or simply because they looked like a challenge, and he wanted to impress his own ego.

While he knew this about himself, he never imagined that Rae would ever be the target of his angst or his ego.

God dammit. How did this even happen?

Quinn racked his memory for the moment he'd gone from having a good time, to whatever that egomaniacal monstrosity was that had presented itself that night.

Emerson...the moment it clicked that he’d been talking to Rae’s ex, he’d flipped a switch.

"I got along with him at first," Quinn said suddenly, into the silence of the truck. "Emerson, I mean. He didn't tell me who he was."

"Ah, yeah. That'll happen," Jett replied. "He's good at first impressions. And second ones, and however many he needs to be until he gets what he wants from you."

"Well, he got what he wanted from me," Quinn sighed. "I fucked up my last shot with Rae. Only it's worse this time because I actually know what I'm missing out on now."

"You didn't break up," Jett said. "You had your first fight. Well, your first fight as a couple. You've gotten over this kind of stuff before, right?"

"I've never really been in a position to accuse her of only being with me because I make money, so...no."

Jett slammed on his brakes and snapped his head to glare at Quinn, then smacked the baseball hat off his face. "Youwhat?!"

"Pretty good, huh?" Quinn said sarcastically.

"Dammit Case," Jett snapped. "Do you think she ever thought that about you growing up? When we were kids and you were poor as hell? Do you think she ever questioned your motives for being her friend?"

"I know," Quinn groaned. His first instinct told him to go back to his hotel room and wallow in self-pity. But that would probably lead to more drinking and that might lead to regrettable drunk dialing and drunk texts. He sat up in his seat and looked ahead at the road. Jett had begun driving again and was heading toward Hotel Indigo to drop Quinn off. "Go to Rae's," Quinn said urgently.

"Quinn, it's one in the morning."

"That's fine. I'm not waiting. I'll sleep on the front porch if I have to." Quinn's mind was clear enough to know he couldn't give himself time to back out. He couldn't go back to his hotel alone and beat himself up over how badly he'd messed up and would probably keep messing up. Rae had once told him he was better than self-pity, and the thing she admired most about him was that he never accepted defeat. He had to remind her that he was still that guy.

Less than ten minutes later, Quinn was walking up Rae's driveway, trying to figure out how best to get in. Maybe she would be too angry at him to sleep and would still be awake. He ran up the front porch and, after making sure that she had locked the door, began pounding and calling her name. After what felt like several minutes, he finally heard the booming bark of Harry on the other side of the door.

"Yes, Harry, help me out here," Quinn whispered, feeling his heart rate pick up.

A light flipped on inside. The inside door opened enough to see Rae in a pair of plaid cotton shorts and a thin, white camisole. Her eyes were puffy and red. There were dried tear streaks trailing down her cheeks.

She's been crying. She's been crying and it'smyfault.

This hit him like a blow to the gut. He wanted to collapse to his knees and beg for her forgiveness. Heshoulddo that.

"Rae, please, I'm so, so sorry-"

"I'm sorry, I'm not interested in purchasing a sugar daddy today. Maybe you can try the next house over. I hearshe'sa shallow bitch." Raelyn shut the large oak door and Quinn heard the deadbolt snap into place.

"Rae, I didn't mean that. I don't know why I said it," Quinn pleaded. "Please, Rae. What do you want me to do? I'll do anything, please just let me in."

The light from inside went out and Harry was no longer barking.

Quinn hopped off the porch and went around to the garage door where the keypad was. He wasn't sure if this was technically breaking and entering, but he knew the code so he punched it in. Without waiting for the door to rise all the way, Quinn ducked underneath it and ran to the inside door, hoping he reached it before Rae realized what he was doing.

He was a little annoyed that she hadn't locked the inside door just for her own safety but was glad for the time being that his plan had worked. He was in the mudroom, and he kicked his shoes off out of habit before trekking through the kitchen and living room. Down the hall, Harry came running to greet him and Quinn gave him a few pats on the head and neck as he walked by him and pushed his way into Rae's bedroom.

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