Page 30 of North

Quinn

The walk back to the house was quiet, but every step felt like a test. North stayed a few paces ahead, his posture relaxed, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets. He didn’t look back at me, but I could feel him—his presence, his awareness, the way he seemed to own the space around him. My skin prickled under the weight of it.

When we reached the door, he opened it without a word, stepping aside just enough for me to enter. My heart raced as I passed him, the subtle brush of his arm against mine sending a jolt through my body. I wasn’t sure where we were going, or if this was where we’d split up.

He didn’t do or say anything, whistling to himself as he walked up the stairs leading to our bedrooms.

I followed.

My thoughts spiraled with each step I took. What were we even doing right now? What would our parents think if they came home tonight and found out? I didn’t know what else to do, and my heart was racing the entire time, but I followed him into his room.

The reward was that smirk that curled on his lips, the one that taunted me, and promised I’d do anything just to taste them again.

I wasn’t so sure I could disagree.

Then the door clicked shut behind us, sealing us inside his world, and I wasn’t sure I could breathe.

“You’re dripping everywhere,” he said, his tone flat but with a trace of amusement that sent a jolt through me. He sounded like he had before, always amused at something I’d done, even when it embarrassed me.

I glanced down at myself, my mind racing. Despite the fact that we’d been skinny dipping, my clothes were soaked from the lake, clinging to my skin in ways that made me hyper-aware of my body. My cheeks flushed, and I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to cover myself.

North’s gaze flicked over me, slow and deliberate, his lips curling into the faintest smirk. “You’re gonna catch a cold like that.” He moved to a dresser, pulling out a plain black T-shirt, and held it out to me. “Strip and put this on.”

I hesitated, my fingers twitching as I reached for it. I wasn’t sure if I should do it here, or in the bathroom, and his smirk grew like he knew what I was thinking about.

“I should go to the bathroom,” I whispered, my thoughts on his cock and the cum dripping down my legs.

“You know the way,” he purred. His voice was low and steady, but there was something in his eyes that made my stomach flip. Something dangerous.

I slipped away quickly, clutching the shirt to my chest. Then I leaned against the door for a moment, trying to calm the storm inside me. My reflection in the mirror looked wild, my hair wet and tangled, my cheeks flushed. I looked like a girl caught doing something she shouldn’t—and that was far truer than I should ever admit.

I’d slept with my step-brother.

Not all the way, but enough to know that if it got out, I wouldn’t be able to blame my father for the town hating me. In fact, it would probably be enough for everyone to forget about his murder allegation.

The shirt was soft, too big for me, and when I pulled it on, it hung low enough to cover just the tops of my thighs. The faint scent of him clung to the fabric, something warm and masculine that made my head spin. I shoved my damp clothes into a corner, smoothing the shirt over my body before stepping back into his room.

I still wasn’t sure if I should or not, but what the hell? Go big or go home.

North was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked up as I entered, his stare locking on me immediately. His eyes darkened, his lips twitching into a slow, knowing smirk that made my knees weak.

“Looks better on you than it does on me,” he said, his voice teasing, but there was an edge to it that made my heart race.

I glanced down, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s… big.”

“Yeah, it is.” His eyes dragged down my legs, lingering on the bare skin beneath the hem of the shirt. “Come here.”

I swallowed hard, my feet moving before my brain could catch up. I perched on the edge of the bed, leaving a safe distance between us, but it didn’t feel safe at all. His presence was overwhelming, pulling me in like gravity.

“You’re nervous,” he said, his voice low, almost amused. What was it with this man and making fun of me?

“No, I’m not,” I lied, my fingers twisting nervously in my lap.

He chuckled, the sound deep and rough. “You’re a terrible liar, rabbit, but don’t worry, we’re only going to sleep tonight.” I shouldn’t have been so disappointed to hear that.

I glared at him, but the heat in my cheeks betrayed me. “Stop calling me that.”

“Why? It suits you.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “Skittish. Soft. Always looking like you’re about to bolt.”

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