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It started with a kiss

Novel By: whysomuchweirdness

Gabe is used to ordering around Quinn, who's parents work for Gabe's family. This makes his girlfriend, Sara, insanely jealous, until one day, she makes Quinn her plaything. What happens when Sara develops deep feelings for her new toy, and what happens when Gabe finds out? View table of contents...


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Submitted:Aug 9, 2013    Reads: 140    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   

There was a bristle of a thin branch moving through the air, and then a sharp crack that sent white-hot pain humming through her the backs of her tender white thighs. Yelping, Quinn sat up, and blinked until she could open her eyes, and see in the dim morning light. Evilly, Gabriel loomed above her, cracking an espanador against his palm. This wasn't their plastic one either, but a wooden one. She remembered the other day when they had woken up at the lake, and then gone to Julio's Market. Gabe was ordering enough meat to satisfy a lion, which was good, because Quinn's stomach was roaring, and about to declare war on her other organs. She wandered around the store, tempted to grab a bag of beef jerky, but decided she could exercise enough patience to wait for Gabe to pay.

She didn't even wait that long. Gabe touched her shoulder, and she had jumped. He handed her a take-home cup filled with delicious smelling barbecue, and a spoon. He was going to pay for it, so what did it matter if they started before the man had finished collecting the rest of their food? She accepted the food, and began to eat. Something spotted Gabe's eye, and he reached above her shoulder. She had wandered into a section that had household supplies. They needed more dish soap, and a new plunger. The last one was untouchable, as part of a battle among Quinn, Sara, and what seemed like an army of poisonous spiders. It seemed Smith didn't know the arachnid he had found was both poisonous, and pregnant.

"Look at this," he grasped an espanador with a polished wooden handle. The entire thing was the length of Quinn's arm, the wooden handle at least the size of her ulna.

"Yeah, too bad we already have one of those," Quinn said.

"We could always use another," Gabe winked, "Considering how promiscuous your behavior has gotten with a simple plastic one."

"Gabe," she whined quietly, not that the man behind the counter was close enough to hear. He gave it a few practice swishes and then laughed that he was kidding. She thought he'd put it back.

Another lash of sharp pain licked her skin, and Quinn yelped again, rolling over, and sitting up. She glared at Gabe, "What is that for?"

"You slept through your last two alarms. You are fifteen minutes behind your final's week study plan," he pointed to the schedule neatly printed on her white board.

She gasped, and jumped off her bed. She had gotten home only four hours earlier, and was so tired, she neither changed, nor got under the covers. Reaching under her shirt, she unclasped her bra.

"Can you leave, so I can change?" Quinn asked.

"I've seen it all before," Gabe reminded. "Remember the hot spring in Canada?"

"Jokes on you, because after skinny dipping in Greece, I started wearing a bathing suit under my pjs at night," Quinn told him.

"Didn't I say you had to have permission for those devices, which are really just woman's way of teasing man," Gabe pointed at the pale pink bra that was now in Quinn's hand.

"It's also for bounce control," Quinn said back.

Rolling his eyes, Gabe grinned, "You don't got bounce."

"Yes, I do. I've more bounce than your ex," Quinn snapped, "It doesn't matter. My boobs, my bra, my decision."

"They're not your boobs," Gabe took a step forward that made Quinn swallow.

"What do you mean?" she returned, exasperated at what he could possibly be thinking.

Taking another step forward, he now loomed over her. "You're mine, remember? So technically, they're my boobs. Forgetting your place, lazy and unpunctual behavior, disobedience, attitude," he tsked. "I count four offenses."

"Shut up," Quinn pushed him away, "And get out of my room."

Instead, he grabbed a dark blue dress out of her closet. It had a short, but loose skirt would come midway down her thigh, and swish in a way that teased, but not as much as how the topped wrapped around over one shoulder, and came down across the other side, crisscrossing her chest, to tie at her waste. The idea that he could pull on the knot, and disrobe her anywhere, made him sadistically excited.

Sighing, she took it. It was a nice dress, but Gabe knew that Quinn liked to dress up when it came to important times of studying. Dressing the part always made Quinn perform better. If she was dressed in gym-wear, then she was the fastest running, or the best rock climber in the swim. If she was in a bathing suit, she was the best diver, or swimmer. If she was dressed in a raggedy shirt, and ripped jeans, then the house was spotless, and gleaming.

"Can you go now, so I can change?" Quinn asked.

"Actually, it's five offenses," Gabe pondered. "You need to study better. You shouldn't be in the library all night. You've got a schedule so schedule in more than four hours of sleep. Look, Wednesday, you've no sleep schedule. Thursday doesn't have lunch or dinner on it. Are you expecting to get three days of fuel on Tuesday's granola breakfast. We've discussed this before. Five offenses. Five strokes."

Scoffing, Quinn grabbed a dark purple bra, and moved toward the door, "I'm changing in the bathroom then."

As she turned, the espanador hit her again. Jumping she protested, "Gabriel Lawson, stop it."

"Quinn Alexis," he mocked, "You step back here this instance."

She ignored him, and moved to open the door. Slamming his palm against it, he leaned his weight on the door, amusing himself as she twisted and pulled at the door. "I don't have time for this," she complained.

"Then you shouldn't have taken so many science classes at the same time," he chided. He leaned his back against the door. "I'm going to down stairs, and I'm going to heat up some breakfast. There's going to be rolls with ham, bolas de berlin, fruit, and um galão. You have fifteen minutes to take a shower, and get downstairs to eat it, or we'll continue talking with this." He waved the espanador in the air. "Você entende?"

At first, she was taken aback. When did he learn all these Portuguese words, and what they meant? She understood how he knew um galão. Quinn would usually wake up on weekends with Gabe bouncing on her bed, at an ungodly hour. Walking down the stairs, she'd croak, "Um galão, um galão." At the base of the stairs, Quinn's mother would have a sympathetic cup of coffee. "How did you make bolas de berlin?" she said, mesmerized.

"Your mom sent it over with mine," he admitted. "But I'm putting it on a pretty plate." The espanador cracked again, and Quinn hopped.

"Ow. Stop."

"Fifteen minutes, you hear me?" he threatened, turning the knob, and opening the door.

"Sim, entendo," Quinn continued, rushing out the door, before he could stop her

Quinn took a sip from the water fountain. It was late, halfway through finals week. She rounded the corner and saw Gabe, sitting at a table, asleep on his textbook. Sneaking up to the table, she grabbed a book off the table, and slammed it on the table.

"Charlie's in the bushes," he shouted, jumping to attention in his chair. Some students, a few chairs away, giggled. A few Asian students sent glare, except for the one who shared a class with Gabe. That student laughed the loudest. "Quinn!" he glared.

She laughed and dropped a bag on the table. "There's mint, and chocolate in the trail mix. It'll wake you up. Or I could drop water on your head."

"You dare," he started to threaten.

She smiled, "Come on. Let's go."


"No," Quinn said, "My stuff is in a study room, with Ty and another student, and they're . . . taking a break. So come on."

"Where?" he said, following as she took his hand, and led him down through the shelves.

"I want a break too," Quinn said, pulling him into a dark study room, and pulling the door shut. First, she shut the door. Second, she turned around, and punched his chest hard. "That was for making it uncomfortable to sit during my physics exam yesterday. I couldn't stop squirming in seat, and not because it was a hard exam."

Even in the dark, she could hear him grin. "Maybe you should have remembered your place."

"I'll show you your place," Quinn grumbled, shoving him backwards into a chair. She straddled his legs, and placed her mouth over his. Her fingers grasped his shirt. His hands moved up her back, in a way that massaged the bones and muscles beneath her skin. Her hands moved up his chest, and cupped his chin.

He didn't know two people could melt together with their clothes still on. He wished it was still Monday, and she was still in her blue dress, so he could pull the bow, and undo her dress. Today, she was wearing a bright yellow dress that hung on her shoulders with spaghetti straps. Her thighs were bare against his jeans, and never wished more that he wasn't wearing pants. Heavy breathing filled the room, and didn't know that he could be so satisfied by a such little skin on skin contact.

Her hand trailed down his chest, down his abdomen, past his stomach, and played with the hem of the jeans. She shifted on his lap, and couldn't help a smile when she felt how hard he was. Tut, tut, someone's bad, she thought. Suddenly, she dislodged herself from his mouth, and popped off his lap. "Thanks for the break."

Though she faced the door, he could feel the smirk radiating off of her. "Hey, tease," he spun her around with a slap on her rear, and shoved her against the wall. "You're forgetting your place again," he moaned against her mouth, "I should make it hard for you to sit for your exams tomorrow as well."

"Please," she moaned back, and he spun them around, so he could lay her back on the study table, his hands sliding down her bare thighs. Quinn had used to wonder how many times this sort of thing had happened in the library.

Someone tried the handle, and a pounding started on the door. "Hey, is anyone in there?" a kid shouted. "We need the chalkboard."

Gabe groaned and whispered, "If we're still, will they go away?"

"No, they sound like math geeks. Relentless sharks when it comes to their chalkboards," she replied.

Sighing, he helped her off the table, and gave her a moment to smooth her hair, and straighten her dress before he opened the door.

Gabe nodded at the math students, and walked out, Quinn walking shyly behind him.

"Quinn," one of the guys recognized behind her. "That's Quinn Medeiros. She's the only one to come out of Professor Morrison's class with perfect score on all of her assignments. I heard she got extra credit on a test where there wasn't any extra credit."

"I heard your proof on the final was so perfect, he cried," one of the students said.

"I wouldn't say cried. It was more a rewarding gleam of pride," Quinn blinked. "That one of his students learned well."

"Help us," a girl who looked like a second semester freshman grasped Quinn's dress. "The study guide made me cry for hours."

Quinn took the girl's hand in her own, and Gabe recognized the look of pity.

"Guys, she has her own finals," he told them.

"I could be bought," she said, "For an hour or two."

"Everyone wallets out," one of the kids said.

Gabe suddenly found himself amused.

"Fifty-three dollars, and a lottery ticket," one of the students counted.

"If someone orders pizza. With pineapple. Lots of pinapple, you've got yourself a deal," Quinn said. She saw Gabe's amused stare, and said, "What? I'm starving."


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