“Jesus, Quinn.” I rub a hand over my mouth, taking her in. It shouldn’t be humanly possible for a person to be as beautiful as she is. She is literal perfection from the top of her cherry-cola-red hair down to her tiny fire-engine-red toes.
“You like what you see?” There’s an edge to her question, but all I really notice is the playful tilt to her lips and the jiggle of her breasts as she shifts around.
“You are the most gorgeous person I have ever had the privilege of setting eyes on.”
The long column of her throat works with a swallow as my words settle over her. She starts to fidget, toying with the ends of her fingers and biting her lip more than before.
Then, with a toss of her ponytail over her shoulder, Quinn steps into the hot tub and lowers herself onto one of the built-in seats. The Well, what about you? eyebrow raise she gives me as the water bubbles around her, hiding her nakedness from view, is what finally spurs me into action.
Quinn keeps her gaze shamelessly locked on me as I remove my shirt, lips twitching as she runs it over my torso.
I know I’m not the same lanky nerd as I was in high school thanks to Grant dragging me along to the gym with him, but Quinn has a way of looking at me like I really am the goddamn swan Em and Kay try to tell me I am. And, yes, they use those exact words.
My hands go to the tie of my shorts, and Quinn’s tongue peeks out, licking across the swell of her bottom lip as she watches me work the knot free. I didn’t think it was possible, but my dick hardens even further, pushing against my fly and grazing my knuckles at her hungry expression.
“Wait!” Droplets of water sprinkle the deck and hit the top of my foot as Quinn thrusts a hand up in the universal sign for stop.
I instantly move my hands to cover my junk, insecurity making my skin feel too tight.
“What are you doing?” Quinn shouts, slapping the water. “It’s my turn to admire the goods—don’t cover them up.”
It takes me a second before I comply and lower my hands.
“Much better.” Quinn beams, then circles her finger. “Give us a twirl?”
I roll my eyes and, without twirling, climb into the hot tub, taking the seat beside a pouting Quinn.
“You’re no fun,” she complains.
“You’ll live,” I counter, used to her dramatics.
The steam rising off of the water causes my glasses to fog. I should have put my contacts in when I turned up the temperature, but unless we’re in bed, Quinn tends to yell at me if I don’t have them on. Removing my glasses, I dip them into the water to warm up the lenses and shake them dry as best I can.
Quinn watches me the entire time, a tiny tilt to her mouth as I slide them up the bridge of my nose.
“This might be the best idea you’ve ever had.” Quinn sighs, sagging against the side of the hot tub.
“Rough day at the gym?”
“Yeah.” She grunts. “Oh, that’s the spot.” She shifts closer to whatever jet is working for her. “Camp is always harder.”
Folding one of my legs beneath me, I turn so I’m facing her, trying valiantly to forget about the fact that I’m sitting here naked while she tells me all about camp.
Quinn explains how they’re more hands on with their athletes as they teach them new skills and help them to perfect others. I already know all about how Kay’s ability to jump in to see why a stunt isn’t working or personally demonstrate a skill makes her a special kind of coach, so it doesn’t surprise me in the least that Quinn’s been using the same method with her coaching.
I get a little lost in the technical jargon when Quinn tells me about the stunts I saw her and JT doing on Instagram earlier, but there’s no missing the gushy fangirl edge that tinges the retelling.
“You’re lucky we didn’t bring any alcohol out with us. Otherwise, you’d be drunk right now,” I tease, swallowing down my unwarranted jealousy toward JT.
Quinn buries her face in her hands. “I still can’t believe you guys made a drinking game about me.”
“If the fangirl bow fits.”
My pun earns me a beaming smile. “Well…you may not believe me, but getting to stunt with a cheer god wasn’t even the best part of my day.”
“Of course not.” I tug on her ponytail. “That was this morning.” I shrug. “Or at least it was for me.”
Now I’m the one grinning like a fool, thinking about the blow job that started my day.
Under the surface of bubbling foam, Quinn curls her hand over my thigh, my body heating hotter than the water. “While I did have fun licking your lollipop…”
“Jesus.” I bark out a laugh.
“The best part was the job Coach Kris offered me.”
Coach Kris is the owner and main coach for all of NJA.
“Isn’t that what she did when she hired you as a summer coach?”
“Yeah, but this one is even better.” Quinn’s sentence is more squeal than words by the end.
She’s practically vibrating from excitement as she tells me all about how Coach Kris asked her if she wanted to become NJA’s official social media curator. She would be responsible for choosing and creating all the content for the gym itself and for each NJA team.
Social media is a hot-button issue for most of us that live here—each of us having our own reasons—but I know Quinn has been more instrumental than she’s let on in helping Kay dip her toes back into those shark-infested waters.
“Not only did Coach Kris offer to pay me, we’re also going to see if I can use it for course credit.”
“That’s awesome, Q.” I know the whole reason she stayed in Jersey for the break was to squeeze in as many summer classes as possible to help lighten her academic load during cheer season.
The thought is a reminder of the invisible clock counting down our time together. It’s there, ticking away whether we want to acknowledge it or not. We can pretend all we want, but I’m not naive enough to think things won’t change once our roommates return for good.
Our pending ending pulses through me, and I need Quinn as close to me as possible until that moment comes. Decision made, I take her hand in mine, thread my fingers between hers, and pull. She comes willingly, grinning happily as she straddles my lap.
Cupping the back of my head, she keeps her gaze locked with mine and eases onto me at such a maddeningly slow pace I have to flex my fingers around her hips to keep from yanking her down.
The frothy waterline plays peekaboo with her nipples, seducing me with every flash of the erect buds. My mouth waters, the need to have them against my tongue intensifying.
I’ve thought of, dreamed of, and fantasized about Quinn more times than can be counted, but each real-life experience we’ve had this last week has put every last one of them to shame.
“Your hands feel so good on me,” Quinn says as I glide them along her rib cage and up to her breasts, weighing them. They’re perfect, just like the rest of her, filling my palm and then some.
“And you feel even better in them.” I squeeze, leaning forward and sucking one nipple, then the other into my mouth, flicking and swirling my tongue around the hard bud.
“Dios.” Quinn arches into me, holding me to her chest. “Why are you so good at this?”