Two Cellos

"Wow, you really know him well," Quinn raised an eyebrow back at her on his way to the kitchen. "Don't worry, I didn't breathe a word about... earlier." He grinned at her while she reached for the plates, then drew her close for a kiss. "But I did tell him you're one of my best friends, which I think threw him off."

"It would," Imaani sighed after kissing him back. "He compartmentalizes friendship and romance. He doesn't think you can be friends with someone you're fucking."

"Just to be clear," Quinn said after he washed his hands and placed a slice on Imaani's plate, "Fucking is just one of many things we'll be doing together, right? The second your divorce is final I want to tell the world I'm your partner, and not just when we're holding cellos." Imaani's face broke into a heart-melting smile.

"Not if I tell them first."

After they finished eating, Imaani closed up the pizza box when she noticed Quinn throwing her little smiles from where he stood washing dishes at the sink.

"Yes?" she gave him a knowing grin.

"I... ah, I was just wondering..."

"It's Thursday. I have to pick Natasha up at 4 today after her vocal jazz practice," Imaani preempted him. "And I believe your first lesson today is at 4 as well? Seeing as how it's only 1:15 now, I wonder what we'll do with all that free time." Without breaking eye contact with Quinn, she suggestively lifted up the corner of her sweater while walking toward the bedroom.

After fumbling with the plate he was rinsing and managing not to smash it, Quinn dried his hands and all but cornered Imaani mere seconds later. Backing her up against his tall dresser, he lifted her sweater and t-shirt over her head just to groan when he realized she hadn't been wearing her bra that entire time.

"Tabarnac?" Imaani smirked. Quinn gasped as he burst out laughing, loosely holding on to Imaani's waist while kissing her forehead. "You're always muttering that. What does it mean, anyway?" she asked, pressing her bare breasts up against his t-shirt. Quinn in turn pressed his erection against her abdomen, covering her lips with his as he answered.

"It's the Québecois slang for 'fuck' but more blasphemous. And it's only the exclamation, not the verb," he explained, punctuating his sentences with kisses.

"What's the verb?" Imaani asked, lightly touching his tongue with hers.

"I'd rather show you than tell you," Quinn mumbled just before he picked her up and dropped her on his bed. He tore off his shirt, then pinned her arms up near her head while sucking on her left breast, prompting a guttural moan from Imaani.

"Baby," her back arched just as she felt his teeth brush against her areola, "If you keep doing that we won't be able to go slow this time either." Quinn gave her a crafty smile, then shifted to her right nipple and devoured it until he felt Imaani's legs scraping against the back of his thighs.

"Then we'll go slower for round three. You shouldn't have pointed out we have another two-and-a-half hours together," he said, sitting up on his haunches and pulling her leggings and panties off in one fell swoop. "I'm going to make up for the last two-and-a-half years before allowing you to leave today."

With that, Quinn held Imaani's thighs apart and quickly overwhelmed her with his tongue, genuinely not being able to get enough of how sweet she tasted. He let her moan and writhe against his mouth for a minute, just until he felt her stomach tremble. Then he stopped altogether, at which point Imaani looked down at him questioningly.

He gave her a wink, then locked his lips around her clitoris and flicked it with his tongue until she shrieked his name and all but bucked against his face in an explosive climax. When her muscles finally relaxed, he left Imaani whimpering with her eyes half-closed while he hopped up to drop his jeans.

Quinn was unable to tear his gaze from her squirming body, even while putting on a condom. Clay's an asshole but I really need to send him a thank-you card after all is said and done, he thought, rolling on the sheath. I am never letting this woman go. He crawled back on the bed and held Imaani while kissing her neck.

"Ohhh, chrisse," she muttered, prompting a fresh set of chuckles from Quinn.

"You really are a fast study, aren't you?" he said, pecking at her lips as he marveled at how intently she'd been listening to him swear in his native language. "Just don't say any of that stuff when you meet my family, okay? I'm sorry to say I have a filthy mouth in French."

"Your mouth just gave me a glimpse into other galaxies, so don't you say anything bad about it," Imaani said, letting her hands travel across his chest and back. "And you want me to meet your family? So soon?"

"I've already told my sister about you," he admitted, his cock bounding upward as her thumbs brushed across his nipples. "But I'd like to introduce you as my girlfriend and not just my bandmate." Imaani's smile made him harden to the point he was almost in pain so he gave his head a shake and reminded himself of what he was planning.

"Are there enough pillows under your shoulders and neck, miel?" he asked. Imaani nodded curiously. Quinn then rose to his knees, standing straight up. He cupped her rear with both hands, and lifted her abdomen and part of her torso right off the bed. Her weight was mainly resting on her upper back and shoulders but she didn't find it uncomfortable with the pillows beneath her.

She was surprised Quinn wanted to try something so acrobatic so soon, but delightedly held her calves against his sides while he lined himself up with her and gently thrust in. Imaani immediately felt the pressure against her front wall and moaned.

"If the tilt is too uncomfortable, it's okay, sweetie," Quinn told her, his strong arms supporting her under her thighs. "We'll stop."

"Don't you dare," Imaani slurred. She put her arms down flat against her sides so her fingertips were almost touching Quinn's knees on the mattress, then looked up into his eyes and nodded eagerly.

He held her legs against him and slid in and out of her, incredibly turned on but trying to stop himself from hitting the point of no return. When he felt her G-spot harden against his tip, however, he looked down and saw Imaani biting her lip and trying not to cry out. That's when he pushed her further and forgot about himself.

It was when Imaani finally gripped the pillow and screamed that Quinn let go of her legs and allowed both of their bodies to rest on the bed. Smiling contentedly, she held onto his shoulders while he sped up and pumped inside her several more times, her adorable whimpers sending his brain into overdrive.

Quinn shuddered and panted against Imaani's collarbone, completely helpless in her arms while his body felt like it was launching into space. It was just as he'd always imagined--him lying on top, her legs on either side of him, her fingers playing with his hair, and her plush lips kissing his forehead. He let himself go limp and rested his head between her breasts, reveling in the flawless rhythm of her heartbeat.

***Epilogue, 1 year later***

Claire's violin perfectly imitated the staccato whistling of the melody that opened Jason Derulo's It Girl as a 25-piece orchestra provided the rich backdrop for Quinn's cello to start the first verse. Imaani shifted in her black gown while Ethan joined the song with a relaxed beat. It wasn't easy to get a floor-length dress around a cello, she thought.

Her shoulder dropped as soon as it was time to accompany Quinn on the first chorus, her smiling eyes meeting his while their bows rocked back and forth in unison.

Claire had been correct a year ago about their Massey Hall debut with the symphony being rife with talent agents and record label scouts. It was incredible to think that just 12 months later, they'd be back at the same venue, except headlining this time with instrumental backing of their own.

The band stayed quiet for a couple of weeks after the first concert at Claire's prompting. She was correct in her second prediction that a bidding war would ensue. Eventually, they settled on a US label that let them record locally and signed them to a two-album deal over three years.

Ethan and Quinn were able to hire more teachers for the music academy while they were in the studio. Imaani insisted on keeping her IT job, while Claire was thrilled to finally take a sabbatical from the college she taught at to focus on recording.

Tonight was part of the local leg of the tour supporting the release of their debut album. Without even realizing it, both Quinn and Imaani found their bodies bopping to the beat of the catchy tune, even as they were concentrating on playing it. But Imaani no longer felt the pressure to get every note right--it was just fun.

Quinn's eyes were fixated on his partner throughout the song, and the crowd roared as he mouthed the lyrics during the final repetition of the chorus.

You could be my It Girl

Baby got me whipped, girl

Lovin' you can be a crime

Crazy how we fit, girl

This is it, girl

Give me 25 to life

Imaani was no longer thrown when he did that--she simply laughed and shook her head while keeping up her harmony with him. As it was their closing piece, the four of them got together at center stage, holding hands and taking their bows.

"I have to say, that might be the first time 'Baby got me whipped, girl,' was uttered by a French Canadian," Imaani told Quinn while retrieving her purse backstage.

"What are you talking about?" He encircled her waist and drew her near as he grinned. "'Baby got me whipped, girl,' is an integral phrase in our vernacular." Imaani surrendered to his deep kisses, wrapping her arms past his shoulders while still holding her clutch.

"Wait," she breathed, opening the flap and slipping on her wedding ring. Quinn rolled his eyes. "Come on, you know I'm not used to wearing it while playing," Imaani said in response to his wry smile.

"Neither was I until a few months ago," he countered, kissing her forehead and holding her to his chest. "But I'm never taking mine off."

***END***