Quinn & Andie: A love for all time Read online

  Quinn focused instinctively on the clit, circling it with her tongue before sucking it again and again. And then the feverish whimpers from Andie grew in frequency and octave, until her body was slick with sweat and shook in waves and spasms. Quinn held her tightly, letting the blonde bury her head in Quinn’s neck.

  They were intertwined, wrapped together like the twisting curves of a cleft.

  And when at last she could speak; Andie released the vice-like grip she had on Quinn’s lithe body. She went straight at the clothes still covering the honeyed skin and removed them with ease. Her fingers sought the honey pot and she moaned, feeling the pooling wetness between Quinn’s nimble legs.

  Andie moved so that Quinn was beneath her, the long legs opened wide, her fingers pressing deliciously against the swollen center. In what seemed like seconds, Quinn was quaking, gripping Andie’s heated, sweaty, back. The spasming peak wasn’t enough to make Andie pause. She slid and slipped and caressed Quinn’s sacred jewel until she heard, “Dee, fuck…yes!” and then the beautiful honey-brown body spasmed once more and the long legs clasped around Andie’s body.

  And then they kissed in the darkness. Long, lustful kisses that drew more moans and more rounds of lovemaking. It was nearly dawn by the time they fell asleep, wrapped together in each other’s arms. Quinn was the first to

  awake. They had both slept until noon, missing their morning classes, unable to part, unable to rise from the shared cocoon of their embrace.

  “Do you really love me?” Quinn asked softly, fear filling her.

  Had this been a colossal mistake? Would Andie regret their night together?

  Was it just hormones?

  Then she saw the happiness in the hazel eyes. The tears glittering in the sunlight that eased into their room. “I love you very much, Quinn. I didn’t know what I was feeling for a while. Now I know. I want to be with you always.”

  “What about Jacob?” asked Quinn.

  Andie shook her head, tears slipping from her eyes. “I can’t be with him, Quinn. He doesn’t compare to you. I need you. Just you.”

  Quinn nodded and kissed her gently on the mouth.

  Andie studied her, willing the wetness to leave her eyes. “Olivia?” she murmured.

  Quinn kissed the tracks of tears on her lover’s face. “She was the woman I could have, Dee. You were always the woman I wanted. I want you.”

  And while it had been easy to affirm their fledgling love in the shared twin bed of their freshman year dorm room, reality had been somewhat more challenging to manage. Quinn had worried that Andie’s feelings weren’t as clear she she’d made them seem. After all, Andie’s family was pretty religious, and her mother was most definitely homophobic.

  Quinn had begun to doubt them. She’d continued seeing Olivia until she finally caught Olivia cheating on her with a junior named Tiffany Thomas.

  The two had been carrying on for a while and finally got sloppy. Quinn had walked in on them having sex and images she’d never wanted were permanently etched in her mind.

  Quinn had cried and sulked. Though Oliva tried to win her back, Quinn couldn’t get past it. She’d been devastated by the betrayal.

  Andie had been furious with Quinn; angry and jealous that Quinn had chosen Oliva over her. Andie knew what she felt, and it had killed her to sleep in the same room every night with the girl she loved. Her jealousy turned to frustration and she iced Quinn out; ignoring her or belittling her whenever they interacted.

  It wasn’t until Quinn had returned to their room one day, seeming lost and broken that Andie had declared a cease-fire.

  They lay reclined on Andie’s bed, Andie on her back. Quinn’s head rested against Andie’s chest; their legs entwined. “Why would you let her do that to you when I love you?” asked Andie.

  Quinn sighed. “She knows who she is, Dee. I’m worried that I’m just an experiment for you. Some college experience you can remember when you’re living your heterosexual life in 10 years.”

  “You’re not an experiment. I love you. You’re all I can think about. It kills me to see you with her,” said Andie.

  Quinn replied, “But you’re still fucking Jacob, right?”

  And then she sat up and prepared to leave their shared space. Andie grabbed her arm and wouldn’t let go. “Don’t run from me,” she said, her voice breaking.

  Quinn relaxed, hating to see Andie in pain. “If he’s what you want, Dee, then just be happy. It’s okay.”

  Andie straddled her, forcing Quinn down to the bed, holding her arms down as well. She forced the dark chocolate eyes to meet her gaze. “I am not sleeping with anybody. I broke up with Jacob weeks ago. I only want you.

  Why can’t you just trust that? Being apart from you makes me miserable.”

  The chocolate pools were brimming with tears. “It makes me miserable, too.”

  “So, what the fuck are we doing, Quinn?”

  The curly-haired freshman shrugged. “I’m sorry, Dee.”

  Andie frowned down at her. “Sorry for what?”

  “For being an insecure jerk. I love you.”

  “You do?”

  Quinn nodded. “I do. Be with me. Be my girlfriend. Please?”

  Andie smiled and then leaned down to kiss the pillowy lips she’d missed.

  They kissed until their lips were plump and tender. They were lying side by side.

  Quinn kissed her girlfriend’s nose and winked. “Was that a yes, Dee?”

  Andie nodded and wrapped her lover in a warm embrace. “Of course, it was a yes, you fool.”

  Prologue: Part II (Fighting for Love) Spring 2005

  California (Stanford & Monterey)

  And so, the rest of their first year went. Their bond continued to grow, forging itself amid the furnace of freshman year complexity. The couple made a tight foursome of friends. It included the two of them and two other students, Mia Jones and Raven Phillips. The group had grown close, creating a family away from family.

  Things got dicey when Quinn’s arrogant and domineering single father found out about their relationship. Quinn had always been his obedient daughter; his moldable heir. Where her sister Evelyn had been headstrong and difficult, Quinn had been genteel and agreeable. However, her love for Andie was the one thing Quinn would not acquiesce for Douglas Wayne.

  He had come to San Francisco on business and taken Quinn for dinner. It was during that dinner that they’d butted heads and she had admitted she had a girlfriend and that she was a lesbian. Douglas had demanded that she leave with him at once. He’d blamed the school’s influence on her sexual preference and had told her she’d be transferring for her sophomore year.

  Quinn had refused. It was the first time she’d stood up to him in all of her 19 years. Douglas had been furious and had disowned her, right there in a restaurant full of other patrons. He’d left for their home in Monterey. Quinn had been devastated. Douglas had been her only parent for the past 4 years.

  Her mother had left all of them, disappearing one afternoon after Quinn had caught her having sex with another man.

  Her mother’s abandonment and her sister’s retreat had just left the two of them: Quinn and Douglas. And while her father had given her the world, he demanded that she always bend to his will. Seeing her defy him had seemed to break the unspoken pact they’d shared. It had been Quinn and Douglas against the world. When she defied him, he’d felt broken and discarded yet again. It had happened with Eve, and then with his wife, Annette. Quinn’s disobedience had shattered him in a way he couldn’t comprehend.

  “How could you know what love is? What has this girl done to you?”, asked Douglas.

  Quinn shook her head, any hope she had of being understood began to fade away.

  “Daddy, no one has done anything to me. She loves me. I love her.”

  “Who is this she?”, he asked.

  Quinn averted her eyes. It was the moment of her truth. Her truth. Not Andie’s. She didn’t want to expose the woman that owned her heart. An
d so, she said, “Her name is Olivia.”

  It was a little white lie. One that didn’t seem to matter. Douglas stormed away then. His final words to her had been, “You’re no longer my daughter.”

  Quinn convinced herself that eventually, he would understand. That he would come to his senses once she just explained how she felt. That once he really saw that her love was pure and kind, that he would approve, and everything would be fine.

  She’d jumped in her car, leaving directly from the restaurant to meet him at their home in Monterey.

  Quinn sat alone, wrapped in the silence of her father’s home. Douglas hadn’t made it back yet. She sat at the kitchen table chewing nervously on her lip and fidgeting with her cell phone. Her phone call with Eve had long since ended, but she’d refused to call Andie back. Once again, the conflict of consciousness clashed within: she needed Andie. More than anything she needed the touch of her lover’s soft hands, the silken feel of flaxen locks between her fingertips, the smile that tugged at her heartstrings and fortified her spirit.

  But Quinn didn’t want Andie involved in this mess. This was her fault, her mistake, her failure to separate rationality from emotional grandstanding.

  Yes, she needed to be strong, firm, and forthright with her father. But she also needed tuition, books, room, and board. She needed the financial support of Douglas Wayne.

  And now, as she sat alone in the semi-darkness, she understood her needs.

  The adrenaline was gone; replaced by a primal need for tenderness, compassion, and understanding. She didn’t want to be right anymore. She just wanted the nightmare of the past few hours to disappear and to pretend as if her confession had never happened.

  Quinn heard the front door open and she sat up straight in her seat, trying desperately to swallow over the lump in her throat and calm her racing heartbeat. Her brow furrowed and as she opened her mouth to alert her father to her presence, a voice interrupted her.

  “Quinn! Quinn, where are you?”, called Eve.

  Emotion gripped the younger sister’s vocal cords and she responded with a small, raspy “I’m in here.”

  The words were inaudible. Quinn didn’t have the energy to make them heard.

  While in route for this confrontation, Quinn had called her older sister, Evelyn. To everyone, she’d always been Eve. Eve was the wild one. The talented one. The sister with the golden vocal cords who’d torpedoed a professional singing career with drugs and alcohol. The sister who was in recovery and was also despised by their father.

  Eve a walking reminder of his life’s failure. His inability to control her was a reflection of all that was wrong in his life. Eve knew this. Yet she also knew that her sister needed support. She had been absent for many of the most important moments in Quinn’s life. But no longer. Quinn needed her and come hell or high water; Eve would be there.

  Eve walked into the kitchen in her search and flipped on the overhead light switch.

  “There you are”, she said.

  Quinn smiled weakly; the pain evident in the strained smile she offered.

  “I’m here”, she whispered.

  Eve approached slowly. This was an awkward situation for the both of them. They hadn’t grown up as best friends and allies. These two young

  women had lived their lives as distant sisters; connected only by the man who’d fathered them. And now, in the quiet hush before the dawn of a Wayne Family war, these emotionally crippled foot soldiers lacked the skills needed for battle.

  Eve finally made it over to the table and sat down next to Quinn. “Hey.

  How….uh, how you holding up?”, she asked.

  Quinn shrugged, staring down at her hands. “I’m okay. I’m fine. It’s going to be okay.”

  Eve smiled uncomfortably and replied, “Sure it is. So, what happened tonight? I really couldn’t understand it all over the phone.”

  The sound of a car pulling into the garage froze those words and left them hanging in the air.

  “Daddy’s home” said Quinn.

  Eve sighed and said, “Here we go. Please Quinn, reconsider.”

  A head of dark curls shook in response.

  “I’ve come too far, Eve. I have to talk to him.”

  The older sister’s shoulders dropped. It felt like she was getting ready to watch two trains collide and there was nothing she could do about it.

  A bedlam is defined as a place or situation of noisy uproar and confusion.

  The scene that unfolded in the Wayne family kitchen on that Friday evening was most definitely a bedlam. It was a myriad of conflicting emotion, confrontation and vocal opposition.

  As is the norm for most chaotic situations, everything seemed to happen all at once.

  Douglas came through the kitchen door, still in his suit, his brow furrowed.

  His wide eyes told of his surprise at seeing his daughters waiting for him.

  Quinn stood up to greet him, unsure of how she should approach her father.

  “Daddy”, she said.

  Douglas’s dark eyes spat daggers towards the unsteady frame of his youngest child. “What are you doing here?”, he asked.

  The dark-haired young woman chewed at her lip and wrung her hands as she spoke.

  “I…I needed to talk to you. We didn’t finish our discussion.”

  “Oh, believe me, it’s finished. I have nothing more to say.” He turned his gaze towards Eve. She was still seated at the table, hoping that her presence could somehow become hidden.

  “What are you doing in my house?”, he asked.

  “Well, hello to you too, Dad”, Eve replied.

  Douglas looked back at Quinn. “What is this? A coup? Some ill-conceived attempt to change my mind? Is this your defender? My pregnant, unwed, alcoholic daughter?”

  Quinn held up her hands, fighting to keep them from trembling. “Daddy, please. That’s not what this is. I just wanted to talk to you. I’m sorry for what I said tonight. I didn’t mean to disrespect you.”

  “So just what did you mean to do?”, he asked.

  “I…I just wanted you to listen to me. Just wanted you to respect how I feel.”

  Douglas smirked. “I see. You’ve lied to me. Disrespected me. Insulted me to my face. Consorted behind my back with your unholy relationship. These are the steps you’ve taken to be respected?”

  Tears had begun snaking their way down a set of flushed honeyed cheeks.

  “I’m sorry. Daddy, please. Can we just sit down and discuss this? I don’t think you understand. I’m still me. I’m still your daughter.”

  Douglas lost his smirk. For a moment, he saw his little girl. He saw a long-legged 8-year-old with curly hair and a wide smile. Douglas had been the center of the universe for that little girl. Her world revolved around him.

  That girl wasn’t the young woman standing before him. That girl wouldn’t have treated him so callously at their dinner table. She would not have sided

  with a manipulating female lover. She would not have chosen an outsider over her father. The woman standing before him, wearing the defeated stance of a weary warrior, clothed in the wrinkled suit she’d worn all evening, was not the little Quinn he knew.

  “I don’t know you”, he said.

  The words stung. Quinn wiped at the freshest set of tears and said, “Dad, you do know me. I’m still the same person.”

  Douglas sighed and looked away, beyond the sad eyes of his youngest child. His gaze tilted upward, as if he were calling on divine inspiration.

  “‘You must not associate with anyone who is sexually immoral. With such a man, do not even eat.’ That’s First Corinthians 5 & 11.”, he said.

  Memory of this Bible verse seemed to strengthen his resolve. He stared defiantly into Quinn’s moist brown pools and said, “Get out of my house.”

  “Dad, please”, said Quinn, small sobs racking her shoulders.

  Eve pushed back her chair and stared her father down. “You forgot one, Daddy. ‘Love is patient, love is kind. It does not
envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always...perseveres.’ First Corinthians 13 & 4. You have to love Quinn for Quinn. Don’t shut her out the way you’ve shut me out. She didn’t pick this.”

  “You’re quoting scripture? Maybe you should quote it to yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t be standing in my kitchen carrying an illegitimate child if you had.”

  Eve shook her head. “Daddy, you can’t live your life banishing people because they don’t fit your mold.”

  “This isn’t my mold, Evelyn. This is God’s mold. I didn’t make you lay up with your child’s father. I didn’t make Quinn choose the ill-gotten affection of a schoolgirl. I didn’t make you do those things. You chose to do them.

  And because you did, you suffer the consequences.”

  Quinn couldn’t quote a scripture if her life depended on it. She was done standing on soapboxes. She just wanted two things: a hug from her father saying that things between them were okay and for him to note that he’d continue to pay for school.

  “Daddy, I didn’t choose this. This chose me. I’m not immoral. I’m not…

  running around living some crazy life. I don’t drink. I don’t do drugs. I get straight A’s. I do everything I’m supposed to. I just love different from you.

  I’m just different.”, said Quinn.

  “We’re human beings Quinn. We have the power of choice and decision making. You chose to consort with that girl.”

  Quinn sighed. Her voice shaky with emotion. “I only lied to keep this from happening. I just didn’t want you to find out. I didn’t want to have this conversation. I didn’t want you to hate me. Can’t we just sit down and talk?

  I just want you to understand, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just couldn’t keep lying to you.”

  “I don’t sit at the table with people like you.”, he replied.

  “Please don’t say that. I’m the same person.”, said Quinn.

  “No, you’re not. Now get out of my house.”

  “What? What about school?”, asked Quinn.