"Bee!"
"Stack!"
"Beeeee!"
"Come here!" Quinn grinned, caught a jumping Rachel Fabray-Berry in her arms and gripped tight. "I love you," she whispered into that warm, deliciously intoxicating brown hair. Three weeks without this body in her arms was too long. It was far too long.
It should always be in her arms.
And as Rachel squeezed the air right from her lungs, she knew it was mutual. Those long lean legs wrapped around her waist, locked over her ass and then lips hit her neck. They hit her neck, her cheek, her forehead, her nose, her eyelids, her grin, her chin and all over again and once more.
Giggles fluttered through the air from the mass in her arms.
She was damn near perfect, in every way.
"You're super cute in yellow," Rachel mumbled through her peppering. "You look like sunshine. An angel. Heaven."
Quinn laughed, blissfully like always, and pulled back from the rapid assault.
"Stop, stop, stop," she giggled and opened her eyes to find shining browns, her anchors. They'd been her anchors ever since something changed on the floor of their apartment on her 27th birthday. They were striking, honest, charming, and everything she wanted in life.
They were flat exuberant happiness.
And Quinn couldn't get enough.
"Kiss me," she murmured into them, let her eyes flutter shut, and braced her heart for the thunderstorm that rocked her when those lips took hold of hers. It never failed. She used to fear the storm. She used to run from it.
Now she danced in the rain.
And Rachel never disappointed. Rachel never sprinkled.
She never drizzled.
She flat opened the sky and poured out her love.
And boy did Quinn love getting wet.
She pulled their lips apart, slipped her tongue inside and let Rachel go to work. She sucked on it like Quinn loved. She did it just to make her heart go from racing to pace-making to flat-lining.
Three weeks was too long.
"I love that you let me assault you in public," Rachel murmured over biting Quinn's bottom lip and then her top and then slipping down to discreetly run her tongue up that gorgeous neck.
"Why wouldn't I?" Quinn snickered, craning away from the tickles shooting down her neck and spine. Rachel pushed on further, sucked at that pounding right beneath the skin and grinned.
"I don't know, it's public? You're kind of a private person. I'm surprised you let me do this. Especially with the paps and all. Hell, I'm Rachel Fabray Berry," she gloated through more kisses to the blonde's neck, face, forehead, and hair.
"Exactly," Quinn whispered, clenched her eyes shut as love overwhelmed her and smiled sweetly. "You're Rachel Berry."
Rachel stilled her kisses, pulled back and the smile that tore over her face told Quinn she remembered.
"You're kind of perfect," Rachel whispered, eyes drunk with love and heart slow dancing with Quinn's between them.
"Perfect for you."
"Take me to my hotel."
"Whatever for?"
"I wanna feel you."
"Where?" Quinn whispered, dropping a soft, but dripping-with-sex kiss on her puffy bottom lip.
"Everywhere."
"I still can't believe you did that to me last night," Rachel pouted as the electric lock clicked green, Quinn kissed on her bare shoulder, and they pushed inside the glorious room.
"How much do you want me right now because I did that, though? It was totally reasonable."
Rachel tossed the blonde's luggage into the corner of the room and turned on her heel, hands settling on her hips and eyebrow shooting to the ceiling.
Quinn pulled her bottom lip between her teeth at the sight. She couldn't help but grin at her. She was the epitome of a pouty celebrity.
"Diva," she snickered.
"Don't call me that."
"Divaaa…"
"Don't, Quinn!"
"You… are… such a… diiiiivvvaaa."
Rachel fumed, shook her head and playfully stormed past Quinn into the bathroom. The blonde whirled around, watched her go and chuckled to herself.
"Where you going?" she called, still smiling and nibbling on her lip. Her heart was going to burst with joy just from the fact that she was finally within fifteen feet of her Short Stack.
"I'm getting ready."
"For me?" Quinn grinned.
"No, for the dinner."
"What dinner?"
"The wrap party dinner."
"Wait! We're not fooling around before?" Quinn groaned. Rachel reappeared from the bathroom, smirk on her face, taunt in her eyes and attitude blazing from her cocked stance.
Oh no.
"No, we aren't. You think you can play with my emotions… Well, two can play that game."
Brown hair swirled, the bathroom door slammed shut, and Quinn felt the gavel pound with hideous finality over the ache between her legs.
Dammit.
That backfired.
And when Rachel emerged from the bathroom thirty minutes later, fully dressed in a black cocktail dress with a tie looped around her bare neck, Quinn knew it backfired a thousand times over. Her entire body clenched on the hotel bed and her eyes raked over her wife. They raked her over and over and over until there was nothing left to rake. The sleek, light green tie pulled down her sternum and tucked under the edge of her off-the-shoulder dress, a dress that stopped a good foot above her knees.
Quinn gulped.
"What is that?"
"What's what?" Rachel chirped, breezed past her and bounced over to the dresser to slip matching green, dangly earrings into her ears. She checked her flawless face in the mirror, swiped at her bright teeth, smiled once and then turned back to Quinn.
"That thing around your neck."
"In English, we call it a tie," Rachel smiled, smacked at Quinn's crossed feet and jerked her head to the door. "We need to head out."
Quinn swallowed, the tie shimmering over that collarbone and those thighs shimmering beneath that ungodly dress.
"You're evil, you know that?" she growled.
Rachel beamed.
"Of course I know. I'm gorgeous. I'm Rachel Fabray-Berry."
"I liked you better when you had insecurities."
"No, you don't. You like me best now. You know how I know?"
Quinn swung her legs off the bed, stood, straightened her slinky red dress and sauntered over to Rachel.
"How?" she husked.
"Um," Rachel gulped, eyes running down the red fabric over Quinn's breasts, stomach, hips, and legs that extended to heaven.
"Rach?"
"Huh?" she gasped, jerking her head back up to Quinn.
"You were saying something…"
"I was. Right. I was."
"And…?"
"What was I talking about?"
"How much you want to skip dinner and sleep with me instead," Quinn smirked, stepped further into Rachel and cocked an eyebrow. She watched the blush creep from Rachel's cleavage all the way up her chest, neck and cheeks. Sweat beads formed. Her ears turned red. Her eyes dilated.
Quinn reached a finger out and slowly ran it down the length of the tie.
"You like green, huh?" she murmured into the quickly dumbifying face of her Short Stack. She swayed closer, the heat of her breath brushing over Rachel's lips.
"It, it reminds me of your eyes."
Quinn tore her gaze up to pin Rachel. She stepped further into her, walking her a few steps back. Rachel's chest rose and fell, rose and fell.
"And why would you want a reminder of my eyes?" Quinn husked, burning her stare into Rachel and walking her further back. One step, two step, three step, wall.
Rachel gulped.
"They do things to me."
"Like?" Quinn whispered, letting her breath dance over Rachel's lips. She hovered millimeters away. She dragged her eyes over every inch of that face. She licked her lips. She bit her bottom lip. She swayed her hips forward to press them flush against her girl's.
"I, they, they…"
"Hm?"
"They, they…"
"I'm listening," she purred, barely brushing her lips over Rachel's.
"Kiss me."
"You're telling me a story. That would be rude."
"Please," Rachel breathed, body resting on the wall, hands twitching at her sides, eyes pure black and shoulders quivering. She needed a hit. She needed it badly.
"Do you miss kissing me?" Quinn cooed and darted her tongue out to graze that bottom lip that always had her hanging on every word, kiss, smile, and note. Rachel's knees knocked, her head lulled back into the wall and her eyes fluttered shut. Quinn grinned and ran her tongue over it once more.
"Please, Bee," Rachel groaned.
"Maybe I wanna go slow…"
"Maybe I want you to fuck me. You're always so sweet. You're, you're…"
"What?" she breathed.
"So perfect. I want lake house sex, Quinn. I want to go crazy. I don't want you making it up to me anymore. I feel like you're always making it up to me. You're amazingly perfect and so loving…"
"You're complaining?" she smirked and ran her teasing tongue slowly across Rachel's lip again. Her formerly lucid eyes fell shut and her hands snapped to Quinn's hips, yanking them into her.
"No. I just want you to, to…"
"To what?"
"God, make me feel owned."
"Owned?"
"Like I'm yours."
"You are mine."
"I wanna feel it," she purred and rolled her hips back into the blonde's.
"I don't like being rough," Quinn murmured, running her finger back down the tie, between Rachel's breasts, over her flat stomach and landing at the dip between her legs. She pushed against the black, silky material and gripped.
It greatly amused her when Rachel didn't even bother replying.
She peeled her hazel eyes up to that dumbed face and smirked. Her cheeks were blood red, her jaw hung agape, she panted every two seconds and her eyes clenched shut.
She was beautifully wrecked.
And right where Quinn wanted her.
She leaned forward, connected her lips with Rachel's over the girl's gasp and pressed her body fully into her. She pulled her mouth apart, loved on her tongue and dragged her hands up her sides to grip handfuls of lush brown hair.
She could feel Rachel crumbling apart against her as she moaned into the kiss, rocked her body into Quinn's and opened her mouth to every assault Quinn felt like laying upon her.
And then Quinn ripped her mouth away, pulled her hands free of perfect hair and stepped back. She turned on her heel, flipped her hair out of her face and walked into the bathroom.
"Two minutes and I'm ready for dinner!" she chirped and shut the door.
And Rachel…
Rachel fumed.
Dinner arrived without a bang.
It arrived without anything.
Except for the loose tie hanging around Rachel's neck. She moved with grace beneath it. She fluttered around the room, charm and sexiness falling in her wake and destroying anyone who dared ride the wave.
She was doing it on purpose.
She was.
Quinn knew.
And sitting next to Rachel at the rounded, head table, she knew exactly what was going on. Rachel was going to get what she wanted at any cost. And Quinn did not fly across the country for one weekend only to go home with blue balls. It was not going to happ-
She froze.
Slowly, her brain caught up to her eyes and the flash of red hair appeared again three tables over.
It couldn't be.
Her insides boiled. Her fists clenched. Her, her, between her legs screamed with possession.
"Rach."
"Yeah, baby?" she chirped from the chair at Quinn's left.
"What the hell is Janey fucking Jansen doing here?"
Rachel gulped.
"She had a part in the movie, love."
"She what?" Quinn snapped and whipped to the, the, the seriously beautiful girl next to her. Stay mad, Q. Stay very mad. She's not pretty at all. "Why did you not tell me that?"
"It's like a four line bit part. It's not a big deal."
"With your character?"
Rachel looked away.
"Rachel!"
"I married you, Quinn! Clearly you won. I slept with you on my wedding night to her," she laughed. "Come on now."
"That's not the point. I don't like her."
"I know that."
"So you should've told me," she huffed, sipped water from her glass, then wine from her other glass, and stabbed at the lobster on her plate.
And Rachel, well she swooned.
"You're so hot when you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous of Janey fucking Jansen," she scoffed.
Rachel shifted her chair closer to Quinn, took in the eight other people adorning their round table and brought her eyes back to her Bee. Her cheeks beamed red, her nostrils flared, and her ear tips turned bright pink. She was so freaking cute.
"Baby…" Rachel purred and dropped a hand to her thigh. Quinn's eyes fell to it, her hands froze, and her brow cocked up.
"Mhm?" she asked.
Rachel slid it further across her thigh, gave a tight squeeze and then kept sliding.
"You know I'm yours…"
"Maybe I don't."
"You know I'm yours, but maybe you should take me anyway," she whimpered, discreetly shifted a bit closer and dropped her fingers down to the edge of Quinn's dress. "Like I'm about to take you…" She turned her fingers around the hem and headed right back up.
The other token Fabray eyebrow arched up as she watched.
Rachel turned her head, leaned her lips into Quinn's ear and smiled.
"You need to stop watching your lap if you want to get away with this. I want what I want, Bee," she groaned. "I want rough and I'll get it however I have to get it."
Quinn's eyes snapped up, her knuckles whitened around her fork and knife and her bright, bright hazel eyes locked on absolutely nothing in particular. "Does it make you hot thinking of Jay talking to me? Does it make you angry hearing me call her Jay?" Rachel cooed as her fingers dragged higher.
Quinn gulped as a flash of red hair darted through her non-vision yet again. Her heart burned with fury. It burned with fury over the thought of that woman kissing Rachel, fucking Rachel, and proposing to Rachel. Oh it burned with the images.
Yet, it burned so, so good because she got Rachel.
And then it burned with the feeling of Rachel's fingers sliding across her damp underwear. She cleared the knot in her throat and pulled her thighs further apart.
Rachel leaned back into her chair with a smile and pushed further under the table. She could feel the wetness through Quinn's underwear. She could feel it. She wanted to stand up, drop to her knees, pull Quinn's chair around and delve inside her. Oh my god, how she wanted to do that.
But this wasn't about pleasing Quinn.
It was about teaching her a lesson. Getting what she wanted.
So she pushed harder against that damp underwear. She dragged her fingertips in circles over the hardening nub beneath it. She pushed against the soaked hole. She scratched over her thighs. She tickled the sides of her lips. She touched anything and everything she knew would set the blonde's insides on fire.
Those cheeks trembled. Her entire ears turned red and shook.
The muscles in her jaw pulled taut.
And the party between her stock-still legs flamed out of control.
She damn near broke her silverware in half, clenching them on either side of her plate like a cavewoman.
Her legs spread wider.
Rachel pulled her underwear to the side and shoved two fingers inside before ripping them out and dragging them up and over her.
And then she did it again. And again.
Quinn's jaw fell. Her head sagged. Her shoulders twitched.
Her eyes fluttered shut.
And Rachel knew she was close. She was close because it'd been three weeks. The sweat dripping down her neck underneath her choppy blonde hair told Rachel that. It told her clear as day.
So Rachel did what she knew had to come next: she pulled her hand out from under Quinn's dress, gave her thigh a playful squeeze and then turned happily to the friend to her left.
And Quinn froze.
She'd been gargoyled.
The silverware dropped from her numb fists.
Her legs shook with need.
Her heart pounded with the aftershocks of feeling Rachel touch her and touch her like that and with such detail and fragility and after three weeks.
Only to take it away.
She slowly craned her head left and her livid eyes fell upon one bubbly, conniving, and horribly awful brunette.
"Scuse me," Quinn choked out.
Rachel turned with a shit-eating grin.
"Yes, dear?"
"You did not just work me up in the middle of dinner only to leave me like that."
"I believe I did," she smiled.
"Rachel, payback is a bitch."
"I'm hoping so."
The grin plastered across the brunette's face flipped the switch in Quinn's mind. Maybe she could give Rachel what she wanted after all. Ever since she got the role in the movie, she was gone for a few weeks every other few weeks. They made love when at all possible.
They'd christened every surface in their home. They'd christened every surface of Statom-Fabray Books. They'd christened an airplane, for crying out loud.
But it was always lovely, even if still sultry and sexy as hell.
And Rachel constantly, consistently, made mention of wanting it rougher. Quinn never quite wanted to oblige her. Be rough with her Short Stack? After everything she put her through? She just couldn't bring herself to do it. After losing Rachel, all she wanted to do every time she got within three feet of her was love on her. She wanted to love her dearly every second of every day until they would be some crazy old women in some stupid nursing home and she'd revert to washing Rachel's hair for their sexual activities.
That would be unacceptable.
But here Rachel was, practically begging for it.
Who was Quinn to deny it?
Maybe she could teach the girl a lesson while she was at it.
Yeah, maybe she could teach her quite a lesson.
"I'm going to the room," she scowled and stood. Rachel's eyes darted to her, fear falling over her face.
"Bee. I thought we were just," riling each other up? Playing? It was fun, right? She didn't seriously hurt Quinn's feelings. "I would have told you about Jay if-"
"I'm going to the room. Come up whenever. I may be asleep."
"Bee," she whimpered. "I didn't-"
But Quinn turned and left. And it shot Rachel back to eleven years before.