Quinn visited in a dream last night, and this is the result. Not that I'm complaining, you understand. Just thinking of changing my name to Nina …
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Never Too Late
"Nina? What on earth are you doing here?"
She pecked him on the cheek and slipped past him and into the house without speaking. He raised an eyebrow laconically.
"Come in, why don't you."
He followed her into the kitchen and poured them both a glass of wine as she made herself comfortable at the table, crossing her long legs elegantly and tucking a stray hair nervously behind her ear. She'd never arrived at his house unannounced before, clearly she had something important to share.
"I'm leaving him, Quinn. For good, this time."
He took a sip of wine and sat back in his chair considering his response.
"Are you sure? We've been here before, after all."
She held his gaze, and he saw the determination in her dark eyes.
"I'm positive. He's been having yet another affair, apparently. After all the promises he made, he goes and does it all over again. Well, I've had enough. I'm going off to Wales with Mum and the kids for a few days while the four of you enjoy your jaunt to Majorca, and when he comes back we'll be gone."
He toyed with the stem of his glass, thinking for the umpteenth time what an idiot Rick was. She was looking at the floor now and he allowed his eyes to travel slowly over her, thinking how lovely she still was and trying to ignore the ache in his balls as his gaze lingered over her generous cleavage. He really needed to get out more, it'd been way too long since he'd been with anyone, and he was in danger of doing something stupid if he wasn't careful.
"Why does he do it, Quinn? Is it some kind of ego thing? Maybe I'm just not enough for him."
Her eyes filled with tears and he reached forwards and squeezed her hand briefly, feeling a shiver run through her at the touch of his fingers.
"Nina, he's a complete idiot, end of. Gorgeous wife like you and he still can't keep it in his pants."
She held his gaze and the look of hunger in her eyes went straight to his groin.
"And I married the wrong man, Quinn, so who's the biggest idiot?"
He stood and moved to the sink with his back to her, trying to collect his thoughts and ignore his rapidly growing erection.
"Don't say that, Nina. You don't mean it."
He heard her chair legs scraping across the floor and flinched in surprise as her arms went round him him.
"But I do mean it, Quinn. I've been such a fool."
She rested her cheek against his back while her fingers slid inside his shirt front, but he put a hand over hers to prevent her. His voice was a low growl.
"Nina … stop now, before we do something we'll both regret …"
"But that's the thing. I won't regret it. And I don't think you will either."
Slowly, deliberately she ran a hand down his body until she reached the obvious bulge in his jeans and he groaned as she squeezed him gently. Suddenly it was more than he could stand and he turned in her arms, his mouth crashing down on hers in a bruising kiss, almost cruel in its ferocity. All the pent up frustration of the previous months was unleashed as his tongue ravished her mouth greedily, and she moaned as he walked her backwards and pinned her against the fridge, nipping and sucking at her neck while his nimble fingers made short work of her blouse.
She popped the buttons on his shirt with shaking hands, pinching a nipple hard before biting down on his shoulder, hearing him growl deep in his chest. Unzipping his jeans, she tugged them and his boxers swiftly down over his hips before dropping to her knees and running a hand up and down his eager length, cupping and squeezing his balls with the other.
He groaned, clutching the fridge for support as she lapped at him with her tongue before taking him into her mouth and sucking hard, her nails raking over his backside.
"Sweet Jesus … Nina … "
Watching her luscious ruby lips wrapped around him as she pleasured him was about to send him over the edge so he pulled her head up, ignoring her huff of displeasure and helping her to her feet.
"My turn, sweetheart."
Kneeling in front of her he pushed her skirt up over her hips, running his long fingers up her stocking-clad legs with a growl of approval, moving higher until only the small lacy triangle of her underwear stood in his way. She gasped as he ripped the thong from her body, spreading her legs wider for him as his mouth closed over her, licking and sucking with practised skill. She was already soaking wet for him and he lost himself in her heady scent, tasting her arousal on his tongue.
"Oh God … Quinn …"
Pushing two fingers deep inside her, he pumped them in and out and was rewarded with a throaty moan as her fingers threaded tightly through his hair. He felt her legs begin to tremble and released her, moving back onto a chair and dragging her down to sit astride him, his mouth dropping to the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat. Deftly he undid her bra and slipped it from her shoulders before rolling an erect nipple between his fingers and she whimpered as he sucked it into his mouth, arching her back as he grazed his teeth over it.
He couldn't wait any longer then, lifting her onto the solid pine table before parting her legs and surging into her powerfully. She cried out at the mixed sensations of pleasure and pain, wrapping her legs round his waist as he thrust into her over and over, his mind empty of everything but the overwhelming need for release. The blood was rushing in his ears and he knew he was seconds away when he heard her long drawn out moan of ecstasy and felt her spasming round him, thighs quivering, her whole body shaking.
"Quinn! Ohhhh …. Yesssss …"
He pounded into her a few more times, hearing the table groaning in protest, swearing and panting with the effort.
"Fuck … Nina … I'm coming …"
His hips bucked erratically as he spilled into her with a grunt of relief, falling forwards for a couple of seconds before withdrawing and flopping back into the chair, his breathing laboured. She remained flat on her back, resting her feet in his lap, and neither of them spoke for a long while, Quinn idly tracing little circles on her ankles as he watched the rise and fall of her breasts. The whole situation seemed at once oddly familiar and yet strange, and he tried to remember whether they'd ever shagged on a table before. God knows, they'd done it practically everywhere else.
Slowly she raised herself up into a sitting position, a satisfied smile on her face, and his eyes widened in shock. There was a livid trail of love bites down one side of her neck, and he reached out to touch tentatively.
"Shit, Nina. I'm sorry …"
She bit her lip guiltily, her fingertips stroking the angry looking bite mark on his shoulder.
"Don't be. Seems I gave as good as I got. We probably ought to put some salve on, though."
He stood and retrieved his boxers and jeans, stepping back into them before wandering off to check the bathroom cabinet. They tended to one another's wounds in silence, neither quite sure what to say, and then he retrieved the wine from the fridge and poured them both another glass. She bent to pick up what was left of her knickers and grinned ruefully.
"Looks like I'm going commando for the rest of the day, then."
He didn't meet her eyes, fidgeting and looking down at the table.
"Nina, was this just a way of getting back at Rick? Silk stockings, low cut blouse … you planned for this to happen, didn't you?
She reddened, and took a sip of wine.
"No to the former, and yes to the latter. I didn't do this to get back at Rick, I did it because I realised I wanted you. And I still love you …"
His heart leapt as hope flared in him, and he reached across the table to take her hand. His voice was gruff.
"I don't think I ever stopped wanting you, sweetheart. Or loving you."
She got to her feet and moved round the table, settling in his lap with her face buried in his neck, and he pulled her close, his fingers stroking her back. Her voice was muffled.
"I'll be waiting when you get back from Majorca. Are you going to say anything to Rick?"
He thought about it for a few seconds.
"Not unless he asks me. Which seems unlikely."
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"Rick, I did not sleep with Nina."
It wasn't technically a lie after all. He'd made love to her, shagged her silly, fucked her brains out, but they hadn't actually 'slept' together. And he didn't really care if he was entirely honest. After what Rick had done with that girl he'd picked up he didn't deserve to keep her. He looked at himself in the shattered mirror, seeing the painted face and the haunted eyes, and wondered how life could change so dramatically in such a short time. And he made a promise to himself that if he came out of it alive he'd spend the rest of his life with her. Much of it in bed …
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Really hoping Nina makes an appearance in S3. And runs off with Quinn, clearly! Hope you enjoyed – all reviews very welcome, as ever.
