Never an us (GXG)

Cassidy's POV

We were supposed to be working on our project. Quinn sat across from me, already pulling out her books, while I grabbed mine from the car. The small trailer felt stuffy, or maybe it was just me.

There was something in the air between us. I couldn't ignore it—the way her hand brushed mine when she passed me a pencil or the way she leaned in close, pointing at something in her notes. Every touch, every glance sent sparks through my body, and I knew she felt it too.

She leaned over, her breath fanning across my neck as she explained some diagram. My skin burned at the closeness, her voice low and steady.

It was too much. I turned my head slightly to look at her, and our faces were inches apart. Her dark eyes met mine, her pupils blown. I caught her glance at my lips, and something inside me snapped.

She kissed me first, her lips soft but firm, stealing the breath from my lungs.

I gasped as she deepened it, her tongue sliding against mine, sending a jolt of heat straight through me. Her hands found my waist, pulling me closer. I let out a soft moan, my hands tangling in her hair.

Her touch was intoxicating, every brush of her fingers against my skin leaving a trail of fire. I didn't think, didn't care.

She pulled me into her lap effortlessly, my legs straddling her as she kissed me harder. Her hands roamed up my back, slipping under my shirt. My heart raced as she tugged it off, her lips moving down my jaw to my neck.

"Don't leave marks," I managed to whisper, though I tilted my head to give her more access.

She hummed in response, the vibration sending a shiver down my spine. Her hands gripped my hips, guiding me to grind against her thigh. The pressure made me gasp, my body reacting instantly.

"You're so wet for me," she murmured against my neck, her voice dark and teasing.

I whimpered, moving my hips harder as the friction sent waves of pleasure through me. My skirt rode up, and I could feel how soaked my panties were.

Quinn smirked, her hands sliding to my waist as she whispered, "Let me take care of you."

I grabbed her hand, guiding it down to where I needed her most. Her fingers brushed against my soaked panties, and she groaned softly.

"So needy," she teased, pushing two fingers inside me.

I let out a loud moan, clutching her shoulders as she set a steady rhythm, her fingers curling perfectly.

"Quinn," I gasped, her name falling from my lips without thinking.

"That's it," she murmured, her lips brushing my ear. "Say my name again."

"Quinn," I moaned, my nails digging into her back as the pleasure built.

"Come for me, Princess," she said, her voice a husky command.

I shattered, my orgasm hitting me like a wave, leaving me trembling in her arms. She slowed her movements, helping me ride it out, her free hand stroking my hair.

As I caught my breath, she pulled her fingers out and brought them to her lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied hum.

"You taste so good," she murmured, lifting me off her lap and setting me gently on the couch.

She grabbed a towel, wiping herself off before bringing it to me. I cleaned up, letting her pull a fresh shirt over my head.

"You hungry?" she asked casually, leaning against the counter.

My stomach growled loudly, and she smirked, pulling a container from the fridge.

"Diner leftovers," she said, popping it in the microwave.

When she handed me a plate of lasagna, I practically inhaled it. It was delicious, and I moaned at the taste.

She watched me with a small smile, eating from the container as she sat beside me.

"This is so good," I said between bites.

"Glad you like it," she replied, her tone light.

When I finished, she took the plate, tossing it in the sink.

"Thanks," I muttered, standing to leave.

"For the food or the rest?" she teased, her smirk making my cheeks flush.

"Both," I admitted before heading to the door.

Driving home, I couldn't stop smiling. A good fuck and a good meal—who knew that's all it took to leave me feeling this relaxed?

This wasn't ending anytime soon.

I didn't get home until late, and as I climbed into bed, all I could think about was how much had changed in such a short amount of time. Quinn was supposed to be nothing—some loser I'd look down on in the hallways. But now? Now I was addicted to the way she touched me, the way she made me feel, the way she made me come. And no one could ever find out. I'd make sure of that.

The rest of the weekend, I found myself at Quinn's trailer any chance I got. I'd never been so turned on in my life. Saturday? Three times. Sunday? Twice after church. I'd come more in that trailer over the weekend than I ever had before, and I'd never felt better.

By Monday, I was practically glowing.

Mom greeted me in the kitchen that morning, chirping about how she and Dad were leaving for some trip on Friday. Gone for a month or something. I didn't mind—they were always gone anyway. I left the house without a second thought, ready to meet my friends near my locker.

"Hey, Cassey!" they greeted as I approached.

I waved them off, nudging them aside to grab my books from my locker. When I turned back, they were already gossiping about Quinn, and I couldn't help but join in.

"She probably shops at a thrift store on clearance day," one of them laughed.

"Or dumpster dives behind the diner," I added, smirking. My voice was loud, deliberate, making sure anyone who cared to listen knew exactly where I stood.

Quinn walked past, her head held high. She didn't even glance our way, not even when the group burst into laughter. Good. Let her keep walking.

Lewis came up behind me, sliding his arm around my shoulder and planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

"Hey, babe," he said, grinning like an idiot.

Ew. God, he was such a douchebag. But he was perfect for appearances, and my parents loved him, so I kept him around.

"Hey," I muttered, not even bothering to look at him.

"You should come over tonight," he whispered in my ear, trying to sound smooth.

Hell no.

"No, Lewis. I can't," I said, brushing him off.

"Why not?" he whined, clearly annoyed.

"Because, Lewis, I'm a woman. And women go through, you know... womenly things."

"Ugh! Ew, don't tell me that," he groaned, immediately dropping the subject.

Thank God.

Quinn and I had  started to establish a routine. Geography was for getting actual work done. Then after school—or after cheer or whenever she wasn't working at the diner—I'd go to her trailer. We'd start with project work, but it always ended the same: her fingers or face buried between my thighs, making me come harder and faster than I thought was possible.

After, she'd heat up some leftovers and call it dinner. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was enough to keep me coming back. Literally.

When I say I'm addicted, I mean it. And so was she.

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HELLO