Chapter Thirty-Six: Choices and Challenges
Returning to her bedroom after manhandling an uncooperative and exhausted Beth into her pajamas, Quinn was surprised to find the room in almost total darkness, just a sliver of moonlight sneaking through the gap in the curtains and illuminating a long stripe across the room. She frowned to herself, having expected Santana to wait up for her so that they could continue their conversation from earlier in the evening. Ever since she'd admitted to Santana that she didn't want to wait to get married, the butterflies in her stomach had been having a field day. Her whole body hummed with excited energy and despite feeling physically fatigued after the long day, her mind was wide awake and flooded with possibilities and imaginary wedding plans that she wanted to share with her fiancée… and since their interlude in the dining room, she'd been more than a little turned on – her imagination had been tormenting her with vivid depictions of what she wanted to do to Santana, and what she wanted Santana to do to her. She'd been looking forward to making at least one or two of those explicit fantasies into reality.
Still, she reasoned as her eyes flickered to the nightstand and the illuminated numbers on the alarm clock, it was well past midnight and she couldn't really blame Santana for being tired. She quickly stripped off her dress and slip as her eyes began to adjust to the darkness and gradually she realized that the bed was empty. There was no familiar Santana-shaped bump on the brunette's side of the mattress.
The excitement running through Quinn's body immediately ramped up a notch and instantly her skin was tingling with expectation. She knew that Santana was in the room somewhere – she would have had to pass Beth's bedroom to go downstairs and the bathroom door was open, the room beyond it dark and quiet.
"Santana?" she called softly into the darkness, unclasping her bra and tossing it casually on to the pile of clothing at her feet. A low chuckle was her only response and Quinn couldn't stop the grin that spread across her features at the sound. Santana obviously wanted to play as well. She took an uncertain step forward in the direction of the brunette's laugh, the sound of her feet silenced by the plush carpet. A shadow moving around the edge of the room caught her eye but she pretended she hadn't noticed, taking another step forward and giggling to herself as a shiver of anticipation rolled down her spine.
All at once strong, slender arms wrapped around her from behind and soft lips attacked her neck, a hot, wet tongue stroking over her pulse point and causing her to gasp out loud. Santana's lithe body rubbed against Quinn's back as the brunette's gentle hands trailed up her torso to palm her breasts eagerly and demandingly. Quinn closed her eyes and allowed herself to get lost in sensory overload. The intoxicating scent of Santana's perfume washed over her, and silky hair tickled her shoulder as Santana continued to suckle the sweet spot just below her ear. Quinn could hear the hitch in her fiancée's breathing as she deliberately rubbed up against her, the meeting of impossibly soft, warm skin creating delicious friction between them.
Santana was already naked, and Quinn could feel every glorious inch of the brunette's lithe, curvy form pressed against her back. Blindly, her hands reached back and grabbed onto Santana's hips to hold her in place, pushing her breasts more forcefully into her fiancée's fervent hands as she arched her back. Santana bit down teasingly on the curve where Quinn's shoulder met her neck, and chuckled once again when Quinn failed to stifle a moan. Santana's left hand moved away from her breast and trailed down her side, past her waist and ghosting over her hip bone and the delicate lace of her underwear before playfully caressing the top of her inner thigh. The brunette made no move to touch Quinn more intimately, maddeningly she instead walked her fingertips up and across Quinn's abdomen, pausing briefly to swirl over her bellybutton before claiming her breast once more.
"Santana!" Quinn whined, surprising herself at how needy and desperate her voice sounded but her fiancée was undeterred. Her lips left Quinn's neck and she began to kiss her way down her spine, hot, open-mouthed kisses that caused her to shiver with delight. Santana dropped to her knees as she planted a kiss against the small of Quinn's back, her tongue stroking over the faded, slightly raised scar that served as a permanent reminder of Quinn's high school car accident.
The brunette's hands left Quinn's breasts to trail down her sides once again, the pads of her fingers brushing lightly over her ribcage and the curve of her hips, before Santana hooked her thumbs into the lace of Quinn's panties and began to peel them down over her thighs.
"Hmm, I love your ass," murmured Santana musingly, as she tugged Quinn's underwear down past her knees. Mischievously, she grazed her teeth over one supple cheek and Quinn mewled appreciatively. She couldn't help but love the way Santana worshipped her body and as eager as she was to reciprocate, right now she really needed Santana to touch her. As if she were reading her mind, Santana skated her fingers up the inside of Quinn's thigh, teasingly close to her center. "Do you want me?" Santana husked softly, and Quinn half-hummed and half-moaned in encouragement, nodding ardently although she wasn't sure if the brunette could see through the darkness enough to notice. "Tell me," insisted Santana urgently. "Use your words, Q?"
"I want you," Quinn confirmed breathlessly, as her fiancée's fingers traveled frustratingly close to the apex of her thighs, without actually venturing where Quinn needed them the most. "Please?"
Santana laughed throatily. "Well," she whispered thoughtfully, "since you asked so nicely…" With no further preamble, she glided her fingertips into the wet heat between Quinn's legs, both of them moaning audibly at the contact.
"Take me to bed," pleaded Quinn urgently as her knees threatened to buckle. Santana needed no more encouragement. She climbed gracefully to her feet and tugged Quinn urgently down onto the bed before resuming her ministrations eagerly. Santana rolled them over so that Quinn was beneath her, the cool sheets peppering her heated skin with goosebumps. Through the haze of sensation Santana was creating throughout her body, Quinn was vaguely aware of the brunette's hips bucking subconsciously against her, and she pressed a toned thigh between her fiancée's legs, automatically knowing just the right amount of pressure to apply to drive Santana insane. Their lips blindly sought each other's, messy and desperate, all clashing teeth and tongues as they swallowed one another's moans and gasps.
Ripples of pleasure began to radiate through Quinn as Santana's fingers entered her and started stroking, deeply and rhythmically whilst her thumb rubbed against the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center. Quinn could feel the wetness of Santana's arousal each time she flexed her thigh and she knew from the brunette's labored pants and soft whimpers that Santana had to be as close as she was. Her fingernails scratched lightly up and down Santana's back, loving the feel of her fiancée's toned muscles moving with each deliberate push of her slender fingers between Quinn's legs. Again and again they came together, until their hair was damp and their bodies covered with a sheen of sweat. Hands groped wantonly, caressing and fondling as they matched each other thrust for thrust. Santana was the first to fall, biting down hard on Quinn's shoulder to stifle her cries and causing Quinn to follow her over the edge into bliss.
Afterwards, they lay sated and pleasantly exhausted in each other's arms, but Quinn wasn't ready to go to sleep yet. Her body may have been spent but her mind was still swirling with possibilities.
"When do you think we should do it?" she asked, wrapping a silky strand of Santana's hair around her index finger and tugging gently.
Santana chuckled. "Just then wasn't enough for you?" she teased sleepily. Quinn gave her a gentle shove.
"I wasn't talking about sex," she said with a pout and Santana laughed out loud before kissing her softly, stroking Quinn's lower lip with the tip of her tongue.
"I know," she placated, tapping Quinn playfully on the nose with her index finger. "I was just kidding. I'd marry you tomorrow if I could, you know that, but I know you, baby. You're going to freak out if we try to rush this."
"When would you have to be in California?" Quinn asked curiously. The thought of planning a wedding on a tight timescale was nerve wracking but she knew there was a deadline hanging over their heads come what may. She was determined to be married before they were forced to live thousands of miles apart.
Santana sighed, obviously reluctant to answer the question. She bit down on her lower lip and gazed into the darkness over Quinn's shoulder for several moments before responding.
"September fourteenth," she admitted finally, and Quinn felt the brunette tense as she waited for the fireworks. Santana was expecting her to panic but, although Quinn's stomach was churning, she was determined to stay calm.
Blinking away tears, all she could manage to say in response was, "Oh." Santana would be leaving in four weeks' time, and suddenly it all seemed incredibly real. Quinn had no idea how she was going to survive a single week without Santana by her side, let alone several months. She wanted to cling on tight to her fiancée, to scream and shout and beg her not to go, but Santana's happiness was infinitely more important to her than her own. She'd seen the brunette's heart start to break when she'd offered to give up on her dream and she couldn't let that happen, even if it meant breaking her own heart in the process. Santana had given her so much, and Quinn was determined to give her this in return. Despite her best efforts to hold it in, a single hot tear trickled down her cheek, wetting the pillow beneath her.
"I know it's not a lot of time…" Santana began quickly before trailing off and fixing her dark eyes on Quinn's. Her expression was pained and Quinn knew that the brunette was mis-reading the signs – she thought Quinn was going to back out of her promise to get married before they had to part. Already, her jawline was hardening as she steeled herself for the rejection she assumed was coming. It was all Quinn could do not to sob.
"It's not that," she whispered hoarsely, reaching out shaking fingers to cup her fiancée's cheek. "It's just, I'm going to miss you. So, so much." Her voice broke on the last word and she buried her head against Santana's shoulder. "But, when you go to LA," she added, her voice muffled and thick with emotion, "you're going to go as my wife. Even if we have to get married on a street corner with no one there but us, we're going to do it. I don't need a big wedding, San. I only need you and Beth. That's all."
"Our parents would never forgive us if we did this without them," Santana mused softly, rubbing the tension out of Quinn's shoulder blades with a steady hand as Quinn struggled to rein in her emotions.
Slowly, Quinn lifted her head and smiled sadly at Santana, her cheeks tear-stained and damp. "My Mom's going on honeymoon for three weeks from Thursday," she reminded Santana with a sigh. "There's no way. Maybe we can do something simple in New York before you go to LA, just you, me, and Beth in the city clerk's office, and then next summer we could have a big wedding and invite all our friends and family. We can't get married in Ohio, and it's kind of short notice to ask all of our friends and family to come to New York. We'd never get a venue for a big wedding at this short notice anyway."
"Are you sure?" Santana asked anxiously. "I feel like I'm cheating us out of the wedding we deserve." Now it was her turn to look close to tears and Quinn kissed her fervently before responding.
"You're not cheating us out of anything," she insisted, wrapping her arms around Santana and drawing her closer, reveling in the feeling of her fiancée's satiny soft skin pressing against her own. She tried not to think about all the nights coming up when she wouldn't be able to hold Santana close like this, when she wouldn't be able to touch wherever her fingertips felt like venturing, or to share sweet kisses before falling asleep with her head on Santana's chest, listening to the comforting sound of her heartbeat. "When I was younger, I used to hear people say that the wedding doesn't matter, it's all about the marriage," she explained. "I used to think they were crazy. I had this idyllic dream of looking like a princess, wearing a long, floaty, white dress, and getting married barefoot on a beach in Hawaii at sunset, listening to the sound of the waves and feeling the sun kissing my skin. That was my idea of a perfect wedding. That was all I wanted. I wasn't thinking about what came next. But now, none of that seems important. I don't care where we get married, San, honestly. I just want to be your wife. I want to have you by my side for the rest of my life. I want to be your partner. I want to delight in your successes, raise our children with you, to go to sleep in your arms every night. I want marriage, Santana, not a wedding."
"I think you just wrote your wedding vows," Santana murmured hoarsely, as she kissed a gentle path along Quinn's jawline before capturing her lips in a tender kiss.
Two days later, Quinn, Santana, and Beth flew back to New York and despite making ardent promises to each other to make every moment count before Santana's scheduled departure, they were soon swept up in the planning and preparation for Beth's first day at kindergarten and Quinn's first day of senior year. Classes were due to start the following Monday and Quinn spent hours poring over the course guide, trying to work out a schedule that would allow her to take Beth to school and pick her up afterwards. When she wasn't planning her course load, she was researching marriage ceremonies at the city clerk's office. With their tight timescale, she wanted to make sure she had everything planned and organized.
"We can't make an appointment, so I guess we just wait in line," she called to Santana, who was entertaining Beth in the living area while Quinn sat at the dining table, frowning at her laptop and fighting a tension headache. "And we have to take a witness."
"Beth can be our witness." Santana entered the dining area, holding an upside down, giggling Beth by her ankles before lowering her gently to the floor. Quinn glanced up at them and couldn't help but grin. As soon as she righted herself, Beth skipped back off to her bedroom to play, not in the slightest bit interested in their adult conversation, leaving Quinn and Santana to talk uninterrupted.
"I think the witness needs to be an adult, San," Quinn said patiently, but she couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "Who do you think we should ask? Rachel?"
Santana flopped down at the table and groaned dramatically, letting her head hit the wood with a soft thump. "We could, but then Kurt will be hurt and I can't look at his bambi eyes without wanting to throw myself under a train," she admitted drily, before glancing up at Quinn with a wry smile.
Quinn chuckled. "I think you're getting soft in your old age," she teased. "High school Santana wouldn't have cared about hurting Kurt's feelings. So we ask both of them, and I guess Blaine too?" Santana nodded her agreement so Quinn continued to fill her in on the results of her research. "We have to get our marriage license at least twenty-four hours ahead of the ceremony," she outlined, "so I was thinking we could go down there tomorrow after we take Beth shoe shopping, and if I get the classes I want, I'll be free on Tuesday afternoons so maybe we could go dress shopping next Tuesday before we pick Beth up from school?"
"Sounds like a plan." Santana's response was nonchalant and Quinn felt a stab of exasperation. She was trying to organize everything and Santana barely seemed to care. She hadn't offered to help, and she frequently had to be pressed into offering an opinion. So maybe this wasn't their ideal wedding, but it was the best Quinn could put together in the time available and they'd have to make do. Every conversation they'd had about the wedding since they'd arrived back in New York had followed the same vein. Santana professed to be happy with whatever Quinn wanted, and Quinn, increasingly stressed, found it harder and harder to rein in her temper. It invariably ended in an argument, but Quinn was determined to break the pattern this time.
"Did you have a date in mind for the ceremony?" she asked, trying again to elicit a more interested response from her fiancée.
Santana shrugged. "Whenever you think," she said noncommittally. She glanced up and noticed Quinn glaring at her, and then sighed dramatically to let Quinn know that she was only making an effort under duress. "I guess Saturdays would be pretty busy so how about a Friday afternoon? Um…" She dug her phone out of pocket and scrolled through her calendar. "How about September fourth?" she asked finally, wrinkling her nose.
Quinn nodded slowly. "That could work," she admitted. "I'll probably have class until two-thirty but we could pick Beth up from school and head down there by four. But what if there's a line?" she asked, her brow furrowed with sudden anxiety. "The website says we can't book an appointment, we just show up and wait our turn. That doesn't give us much time."
Groaning audibly, Santana dragged herself out of her chair and shuffled around the table to wrap her arms around Quinn from behind and plant a chaste kiss on the top of her head.
"You worry too much, Q," she said softly, resting her cheek against Quinn's hair and exhaling slowly. "Relax, baby, please. You're going to give yourself an ulcer. How's this? We call the guys and invite them over for pizza, then we can tell them our plans and compare calendars and find a date that works for everyone."
"Okay," Quinn agreed, closing her eyes and pulling off her glasses. Her headache started to ease as Santana rubbed at her tense shoulders. "I love you," she murmured, allowing herself to unwind under her fiancée's skilled hands. Santana could be infuriating at times and Quinn was still irritated at the brunette's casual attitude towards their wedding plans, but it was hard to stay mad at her when her hands were deftly working out the painful knots in her muscles, soothing and comforting her with every stroke.
"I love you too, Q," Santana chuckled. "And I can't wait to be your wife." She massaged the back of Quinn's neck firmly and Quinn couldn't help but moan in appreciation.
"I just want our wedding day to be a day to remember," she explained, wanting Santana to understand the source of her anxiety and frustration. "I know I'm making a big deal out of things and I know I said it didn't matter where we did it – I still stand by that – but that doesn't mean I don't want it to be special." She tilted her head back so she could look into Santana's eyes, and the brunette lowered her head to plant a gentle upside down kiss against her parted lips.
"It will be," she affirmed, caressing Quinn's cheek with her fingertips. "Trust me, Q. It'll be perfect, I promise."
As Santana had suggested, Quinn called Rachel and arranged for a pizza night that Friday. Neither she nor Santana had seen much of their friends over the summer – Rachel had been going to almost as many auditions as Santana by the sounds of it, balancing auditioning with a full summer class schedule at NYADA to make sure she graduated on time with the rest of her class. She'd missed a lot of school during her stint on Broadway, and taken some time off after Finn's death, but she was making up for it now. Kurt and Blaine had been on an extended vacation in Europe, and as soon as Quinn opened the door to them, Kurt adopted an irritating faux-European accent, kissing Quinn first on one cheek then the other as he said hello. One raised eyebrow from Santana, however, and he slipped back into his usual accent immediately.
For an hour or so, the five of them kept up a steady stream of relaxed small talk, catching up on the events of each other's lives – or at least Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine's lives – Quinn and Santana remained cagily quiet until their friends had exhausted themselves with every last detail of their summers.
"So, don't keep us in suspense any longer," Blaine said eventually, when there was finally a lull in the conversation. "What's new with you guys? I know you went back to Lima for your mom's wedding, Quinn. How was that?"
"It was good," replied Quinn enigmatically, suddenly awash with shyness. "My mom looked amazing, and she's like a different person with Paul. I've never seen her so happy."
"I could say the same about you two," Rachel commented, nodding in Quinn and Santana's direction as she reached for another piece of her vegan roasted vegetable pizza. No one else had ventured near it all night but Rachel didn't seem affronted, she was used to her carnivorous friends making fun of her food choices. "I mean, look at you both." She chuckled and shook her head as Quinn and Santana shared identical perplexed glances.
"You do look adorable," Kurt confirmed, as Blaine nodded his agreement. Santana was sitting on the floor with her back against the bookcase, whilst Quinn nestled between her legs, resting comfortably against her fiancée's torso. Santana's arms were looped loosely around Quinn's waist and every so often Quinn would hold up a slice of pizza to the brunette's lips to enable her to take a bite without letting go.
"We do have some news," Quinn began tentatively, looking to Santana for reassurance, "and we wanted you guys to be the first to know." She paused as three pairs of eyes fixed on her expectantly, and then elbowed Santana lightly in the ribs. "You tell them," she murmured, cocking her head to one side to meet her fiancée's gaze. "It's more your news than mine."
"I'm pretty sure it qualifies as our news," Santana countered, grinning at Quinn elatedly, her dark eyes flashing with anticipation.
"Tell them," Quinn repeated softly, as Santana planted a soft kiss on her cheek. "Please?"
"One of you needs to tell us before we die from curiosity!" Kurt insisted shrilly, pouting in exasperation and shaking his head. Santana smiled beatifically but remained silent as Quinn sighed.
"Fine, I'll do it," she grumbled, feeling a rumble of laughter move through the brunette's body as she pressed against her. "Santana's show was picked up," she said simply.
The atmosphere in the apartment was suddenly electric as their friends jumped to their feet, congratulating Santana and talking animatedly, asking her a myriad of questions as Quinn tried to get them to keep the noise down, reminding them that Beth was asleep in her bedroom. The little girl had not been thrilled to be put to bed before their friends' arrival – especially when she knew there was going to be pizza. They'd promised to save her some pizza for the following day, but even then it had taken several stories and repeated renditions of Do You Wanna Build a Snowman? before Quinn had managed to get her to go to sleep.
Reluctantly, Quinn wriggled out of the brunette's warm embrace and excused herself to go check on her daughter. Miraculously, Beth was still fast asleep, illuminated by the rosy glow of her nightlight. Her hair was a tangled mess of curls across her face, giving the distinct impression that her head was on back to front. Quinn felt a rush of love for her as she brushed the silky tendrils away from her face and smoothed her blankets. Beth stirred slightly but didn't wake as Quinn kissed her softly on the forehead before heading back to Santana and their friends.
Santana, it transpired, was in the center of an enthusiastic group hug and Quinn couldn't help but chuckle at the uncomfortable expression on her fiancée's face as she tried to shake them off. She watched in amusement as Santana fought them off and backed up quickly to stand close to Quinn, slightly behind her as though using her as a human shield. Quinn sighed indulgently, tugging Santana's hand as she led the brunette to the couch and pulled her down beside her.
Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine resumed their previous positions around the room and the conversation about Santana's work picked up where it had left off when Quinn had left to check on Beth.
"So, when do you start shooting?" Rachel asked eagerly. "You must be so excited!" she added, then, taking in Santana's slightly glum expression, "Why don't you look excited?"
"That's the next part of our news," Santana explained reluctantly, squeezing Quinn's hand so hard that she was cutting off the circulation. "I start shooting in a few weeks – in LA."
Quinn watched as the excited grins slipped off their friends faces, before being replaced with somewhat forced smiles that didn't reach their eyes.
"Well, that's… exciting," Kurt said finally, after none of them had spoken for several seconds.
"But, what about school?" Rachel asked, her chocolate brown eyes fixing curiously on Quinn. "Are you going to take time out? Transfer? And Beth too? What about kindergarten?"
Quinn bit her lip and took a deep breath before responding.
"Beth and I are staying here for now," she clarified, leaning into Santana for support. "We'll reassess things in May once I'm done with senior year, but, for now, we thought it was the best option." She tried to look nonchalant but she wasn't fooling anybody. Their friends exchanged glances, taking cues from one another about how to react.
After several long moments, Blaine stood up and moved to the couch, planting himself beside Quinn so that she was squeezed between him and Santana. He wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders as Santana continued to hold her hand in a vice like grip.
"We'll take care of her for you, Santana," he promised gently and Quinn smiled softly. "Kurt and I have been there – when Kurt came out to New York without me, it was tough, but we got through it, and you guys will too, right Kurt?"
Kurt nodded fervently. "Of course," he agreed. "You two are the strongest couple I know, besides Blaine and me, of course."
"Of course," muttered Santana, rolling her eyes, and the tension was broken as they all laughed.
"There's one other thing," Quinn added quietly once the laughter had abated. Her heart suddenly started pounding traitorously in her chest and Blaine was looking at her so curiously that she wondered if he could feel it. "Before Santana leaves for California, there's something we want to do, and we'd like you guys to be a part of it." She looked at Santana and almost lost herself in the unrestrained love she saw in her fiancée's eyes. A gentle, encouraging smile was playing on Santana's lips, and Quinn couldn't tear herself away from the brunette's stunning face. "We're getting married," she announced, her expression firmly fixed on her now beaming fiancée, "in a couple weeks' time at the city clerk's office."
"Wow," Kurt said, letting out a rushed breath as Santana kissed Quinn softly. "I can't say I expected that, but congratulations. I always thought Blaine and I would get married first, but I'm happy for you guys."
"I know it seems kind of sudden…" Quinn began tentatively, reluctantly pulling her gaze away from Santana's but her friends all shook their heads, effectively silencing her.
"You two are perfect together," Rachel told them sincerely, her eyes filled with tears and her shoulders shaking with emotion. Quinn chuckled inwardly – trust Rachel to display more sentiment about their upcoming nuptials than either Santana or herself. "We've known that for a long time now. You're not rushing into anything. I can't speak for Kurt or Blaine, but I'd be honored to be at your wedding."
After Rachel's pronouncement, the boys were quick to agree as well, and Santana disentangled herself from Quinn just long enough to head into the kitchen and produce a bottle of champagne.
For the next half hour, Quinn and Santana fielded a flurry of questions about Santana's show, her big move, how Quinn's schedule was going to work with Beth's schooling, and of course, wedding plans.
"What do you mean you're not going to wear a wedding dress?" Rachel shrieked, when, in answer to her question, Quinn told her she'd probably wear something out of her closet to the wedding rather than buy a new dress. Kurt looked equally dismayed, whilst Blaine merely looked amused. "No!" Rachel announced vehemently. "I forbid it."
"You… forbid it?" Quinn repeated slowly, whilst Santana shook with silent laughter beside her.
Rachel set her jaw in a determined line, pouting her lips and squaring her shoulders. Quinn had seen that stance many times in high school, usually when Rachel wasn't getting a solo she wanted in glee club. She knew from experience that the usual result was the diva getting her own way.
"I forbid it," Rachel confirmed with a fervent nod. "As your self-appointed maid of honor…"
"My what?" Quinn asked indignantly but Rachel ignored her and continued regardless.
"As your self-appointed maid of honor, I insist that you allow Kurt and me to take you shopping for a new outfit," she said, clapping her hands briskly. Quinn glanced at Santana for support but her fiancée merely shrugged, her eyes glinting with amusement.
"And if I say no?" Quinn asked with a sigh, knowing instinctively that she wasn't going to win this one.
"Then, Kurt and I will go shopping without you and choose a dress for you," Rachel announced defiantly. Everyone except Rachel burst into giggles at the horrified look on Quinn's face.
By the end of the evening, Quinn had made a date with Kurt and Rachel to go dress shopping, although she was still flatly refusing to wear a traditional wedding dress, insisting that it wouldn't be right for the setting. When she'd tried to point out that no one was agonizing over what Santana was planning to wear, the brunette smiled beatifically and insisted it was all in hand, and no one questioned her any further.
As they closed the door behind their friends, way after midnight, Quinn fell gratefully into Santana's arms, both of them sinking onto the couch to cuddle, too tired to contemplate cleaning up the living room or even going to bed.
"Well, that went well," Santana said congenially as she ran her hand lightly over Quinn's hip and thigh, snuggling against her with a contented sigh.
"Hmm," acknowledged Quinn sleepily, still thinking about the enforced dress shopping excursion.
"It's really happening, Q," Santana murmured happily against her ear, ghosting her lips lightly over her earlobe. "Two weeks today, you'll be Mrs Lopez."
"Or you'll be Mrs Fabray," Quinn countered indignantly, raising her head wearily to catch Santana's eye.
Santana smirked as she smacked Quinn gently on the rear. "How about Lopez-Fabray?" she suggested playfully.
Quinn raised an eyebrow and pouted. "Fabray-Lopez," she said simply, unwilling to give in without a fight.
Santana groaned, throwing her head back against the back of the couch and closing her eyes. "Not going to happen," she said firmly, causing Quinn to scowl.
Quinn thought for a moment, humming softly to herself and then she grinned mischievously before sliding her hand up the brunette's thigh. She hadn't even come close to exhausting her arsenal of tricks yet, and she was determined to get her own way.
"How about we talk about it later?" she husked against Santana's ear, rubbing up against her fiancée suggestively as her fingers reached the apex of Santana's thighs and cupped her firmly through her jeans. She poked out her tongue and licked the sensitive skin just below the brunette's ear before pressing her lips to her neck and sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
"I kn-know what you're d-doing," Santana stammered, stifling a gasp as Quinn deftly unbuttoned her jeans with a flick of her thumb.
"And what might that be?" Quinn asked with as much innocence as she could muster. She moved to straddle the brunette, pressing their torsos together as she caught Santana's lower lip between her teeth and tugged gently. Her hands wandered beneath Santana's shirt and teased the soft skin below the brunette's breasts with infinitesimally light touches.
"You're trying to… distract me… with sex," Santana panted as Quinn ground against her sending shivers through them both, "so I'll give you what you want."
"Is that what I'm doing?" Quinn asked with a low chuckle, before moaning as Santana's hands palmed her backside firmly and tugged her even closer. The action sent a surge of desire flooding straight to her core and she felt herself flush with arousal.
"But it won't work," Santana warned, peppering Quinn's face and neck with hot, sloppy kisses, grasping her hands and removing them deliberately from her breasts. Without warning, she flipped them over so that Quinn was now pressed beneath her, half-sitting, half-lying on the couch, fighting her instincts when she wanted nothing more than to writhe against the brunette, "because two can play at that game." The brunette smirked as she tugged Quinn's arms above her head, holding her wrists tightly so that Quinn was powerless against her.
Quinn couldn't help but gasp, both at the sudden rush of need coursing through her and at Santana's audacity, proving that she too was willing to play dirty. She knew how hot Quinn got when she was restrained and she was obviously happy to use it against her.
"We'll see," Quinn replied, trying to sound nonchalant, even as her body screamed to have Santana's hands on her. She could feel the wetness between her thighs and she squirmed slightly beneath her fiancée.
"That we will," agreed Santana, equally sure of herself, even as her ragged breathing and lust-filled eyes betrayed her true feelings.
It appeared they'd reached a stalemate and for several moments they simply stared at each other, each willing the other to break first, even as their need to touch, to kiss, to lose themselves in one another threatened to overwhelm them. Quinn clenched her teeth as Santana whimpered above her, neither of them moving their bodies as they fought to win the battle.
The flood of hormones through her body and the almost painful throbbing between her thighs had Quinn so turned on that she could barely remember what they were fighting about. She bit down hard on her lower lip, before opening her mouth to give in, willing to call herself whatever Santana liked if only the brunette would put her out of her misery, when to her surprise, a hot, wet tongue invaded her mouth as Santana crashed their lips together.
"You win," Santana panted between frantic kisses as they tore at each other's clothes in their determination to get naked. "Fabray-Lopez it is. Just fucking touch me, okay?"
Quinn was more than happy to comply. Without even removing her fiancée's jeans she shoved her hand inside and delved into the slick heat between Santana's thighs, even as Santana's fingers reached beneath Quinn's unbuttoned dress, pushing her underwear aside to press urgently against her.
They let out simultaneous gasps, which turned to breathy moans as their competitiveness turned into a challenge to see who could make the other fall first. They thrust against each other in unison, fingers seeking out the places they knew would drive the other wild, stealing kisses in between pants and pleas and desperate curses.
This time, Santana won the battle, but, as Quinn reminded her later that night as they lay sated in each other's arms listening to the rain of the summer storm raging outside, just barely. Santana's fingers had curled inside Quinn, hitting just the right place to send her flying into the stratosphere, and the fluttering of her inner walls against Santana's fingers had been more than enough to send the brunette crashing into orgasm immediately after her.
AN: A guest reviewer has commented on this chapter saying they don't like my use of descriptive language and feel I should be more direct (I'm paraphrasing a bit). Ordinarily, I'd respond to reviews individually but I can't do that with guest reviews. I've been extraordinarily lucky so far in that I haven't received a lot of criticism, and maybe I'm hyper-sensitive today, but the review did get me thinking. I try and strike a balance between dialogue and descriptive passages but if that doesn't work for some of you, that's okay. I don't think I'm able to change my style, it's just the way I write. Not everyone's going to like that, and that's fine. I personally struggle to read stories that don't use punctuation correctly around quotation marks so I do understand how the reviewer feels. I'm extremely grateful for all the views, follows and reviews I get for my stories and I'm happy to take constructive criticism, but if my style isn't for you, I'm sure there's another story out there somewhere that you'll enjoy better. Hope the rest of you enjoyed this chapter :)