Page 6 of North

I slipped into the bathroom, chuckling as faint music poured from the closed bathroom door separating us. My door creaked as I shoved it closed, and I didn’t bother locking it as I switched on the shower. That should be enough for the little rabbit to stay clear. God only knew I couldn’t take her eyes starting at me again.

Snatching a towel off the hook, I dumped it on the floor and settled against the counter. I wasn't going to jerk off in the shower, too much water in my fucking eyes made it a worse off experience than it seemed. Meanwhile, the counter was cool beneath my palms as I braced myself against it, my head dropping forward. My free hand slid beneath the waistband of my pants, wrapping around my cock, and I groaned softly as I began to stroke.

Images of Quinn filled my head—her wide eyes, her flushed cheeks, the way she’d looked at me like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap me or run away. The thought of her lips parted in anger, her voice shaking as she tried to tell me off…

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, my strokes quickening. I should’ve been thinking about the blonde, but I guess hate-fucking my fist was my kink tonight.

A groan rumbled in my chest as I pumped my dick, picturing Quinn on her knees in front of me. She’d look fucking amazing covered in my cum—murderer’s daughter or not.

The door burst open, and my head shot up.

Quinn stood in the doorway, her mouth falling open as her eyes dropped—then snapped back up to my face. Her cheeks turned crimson, her hand still on the doorknob as she stumbled backward.

“Shit,” she stammered, her voice high and panicked. “I—I didn’t know you were—”

“Hard?” I growled, my voice rough as I yanked my hand away. Heat crawled up my neck, and not from embarrassment. I was pissed. Pissed that she’d caught me. Pissed that my body was still reacting to the sound of her voice, the sight of her flushed face. Pissed enough to want to make her pay for it.

And hey, maybe it wasn’t my best idea, but I decided to go for it.

With a cruel smirk twisting my lips, I approached Quinn, and her eyes grew wider as I pulled her into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

“Wanna touch, rabbit?” I purred, snatching her wrist and pressing her palm against my dick. She wrapped her fingers around me, almost instinctively, and I bit back a moan.

“Don’t worry, you wouldn’t even have to beg,” I continued, my voice turning breathless as I pushed her against the counter, pulled my hands off hers and pressed them back against the cool tile. I wanted to see what she’d do. Kind of expected her to take the chance to run, but that wasn’t what she did. Instead, she started to pump my aching dick, and my legs nearly gave out as stars crossed my vision.

“What are you doing, North?” she whispered as I caged her in.

“What are you doing?” I countered, rocking into her grip as my eyes dropped to her hand on my dick.

She didn’t answer me, her breaths puffing against my neck. She didn’t answer me, but her grip was soft and unsure and I needed a whole hell of a lot tighter. So I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended I wasn’t doing what I was. Then I placed my palm on hers and roughly fucked our combined hands until my release exploded out of me, painting her pretty legs white.

It was enough to make me lose my balance, but then everything wrong about this rushed back to the surface of my mind.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“Get the fuck out.”

“Wh-”

I didn’t wait for her to answer, throwing the towel at her. “Get the fuck out.”

“No, wait, North, we—” she started again, but I cut her off. Like hell I was going to sit and listen while she panicked and gave her excuses about why we shouldn’t have done that. I fucking knew that already.

“Get. Out.”

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving me alone with the sound of my own ragged breathing and the lingering heat of her presence.

So much for making her life hell.

This was going to be a long fucking summer.

Chapter 2

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.

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