“No! I wasn’t…um…”
“Oh, I think you were.”
The waiter returned then, rescuing her by presenting a small bottle of wine to Quinn. The two men went through all the fancy wine steps that were required at any Aspen restaurant, and then Quinn presented her with a glass half-filled with deep golden liquid.
“Vino de Málaga. It’s a bit sweet. I hope you don’t mind.” When she shook her head, he raised his own glass and tilted it toward hers. “To Spain,” he said, “and fantasy.”
“Hear, hear,” Lori agreed. When the sweet, cold wine touched her tongue, she couldn’t help but moan her approval. It was flowery and bright. Too bad she couldn’t get tipsy tonight.
Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “Remind me to stock up on Málaga wine tomorrow. I like that sound.”
“Falling back on props?” Her amusement turned to a shock of desire when he dragged his gaze down her body.
“Props, hmm? That’s something to consider. Thanks for the hint.”
“I thought it was more of an insult.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Don’t make me get out the transcripts of last night. Your insults fall on deaf ears. Although…there was the laughing to consider.”
“Hey, at least I didn’t point and laugh.”
“Jesus.” He chuckled. “You’re cruel. And you’re starting to chip away at my confidence.”
“I wouldn’t want you to get complacent. Complacency is the enemy of hot monkey love.”
“Hmm. Ben Franklin?”
Thank God she didn’t have wine in her mouth at that moment or it would’ve gone airborne.
Quinn took her hand again, though he didn’t try to suck one of her fingers into his mouth, so Lori relaxed.
“You said you’re on call tonight. What does that mean?”
“The tow truck. I’ll take any emergency calls until 6:00 a.m.”
He frowned. “So someone calls in the middle of the night and, what? You just drive out into the dark to help?”
“Yes. Oftentimes I give them a ‘tow,’ hence the name of the aforementioned truck.”
Deep lines of trouble appeared between his brows. “Does someone come with you?”
She tried not to roll her eyes, she really did. “No, Quinn. No one comes with me. I go out and tow the car. Sometimes I charge a battery or help someone out of a ditch.”
The waiter returned and set down a series of small plates, but Quinn never once broke contact with her eyes. His frown had turned into a glare.
“Lori, that’s ridiculous,” he said. “You could get hurt. A woman out there alone in the dead of night? What if the guy is drunk? What if he’s violent?”
Of course there had been men who’d stepped over the line. Men who’d theorized that a woman on the side of the road at 3:00 a.m. was probably open to all kinds of invitations. She couldn’t deny it, which made her mad.
“It’s part of my job,” she snapped.
“You’re, like, five feet tall.”
“I am five-two! And don’t be an ass!”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s my job, Quinn. I’ve been doing it for ten years now, and you weren’t the least bit worried about it for the past decade, so don’t be an ass and act concerned now.”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I had no idea you’d been out risking your hide in the middle of the night. You could be raped or killed out there, damn it.”
“Well, so could my other drivers.”
His cheeks turned red and he clenched his jaw tight. “That is the…most…unbelievably stu—”
“Stop,” Lori realized he was still holding her hand—squeezing it now—and pulled free.
“Lori—”
“No. You don’t have the right to lecture me about my life.”
When Quinn sat back, eyes blazing frustration, Lori was struck with a sharp pang of distress at the distance. They were only going to see each other for a few weeks. She didn’t want to argue, not when they could be doing something much more relaxing.
He took a deep breath and shook his head. “If you go out tonight and something happens, how am I supposed to live with that?”
She needed this back on track. “Listen. Thank you for being concerned. But I’m not your responsibility. This is my job. I’m only on call once a week”—usually—“and I’m careful and smart. If someone is drunk, I have no compunction about calling Ben or one of his officers. I even keep a Taser in the truck. All right?”
“I don’t like it,” he bit out.
“Fair enough.”
Frustration lay tight across his face, but he didn’t say anything more. He just tapped a finger against the table in a frantic rhythm.
Lori looked purposefully down to the plates. “Tell me what we’re eating.”
He kept his jaw stubborn for a few moments more, and then glanced down in resignation.
“Come on,” she urged. “Truce.”
He glanced up and his mouth softened. “Another truce?”
“Yeah, what is it with you? You’re very argumentative.”
“Not with anyone else,” he muttered, but the tension was melting away.
“Must be all the sizzling passion between us, hmm?”
This time he smiled, and his grin stretched wide and wicked. “That might be it. Here.” Quinn offered her a taste of one of the little appetizers. He explained each plate, and she coaxed stories of Spain from him until the paella arrived. Then she was too busy devouring the delicious stew to talk. The sweet wine was the perfect antidote to the spice, and she soon found herself finishing her second glass with a mournful sigh.
“Did you like it?” Quinn asked.
“The wine?”
He glanced around with a slightly embarrassed air. “The trip to Spain.”
“I loved it,” she answered with complete honesty. It really did feel like a foreign country. The waiters argued softly about something in Spanish. The simple, sensual music stroked down her body as dusk fell, tingeing the air midnight-blue. Tiny white lights were wound through the potted trees and flowering vines, and each time a breeze touched them, they sparkled like stars. “It’s perfect.”
Quinn stood, surprising her. “Come on.”
“But you haven’t paid, have you?” She glanced around instead of taking the hand he held out, but Quinn just reached down to tug her up. That was when Lori noticed the two couples swaying on the wooden floor. “Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes. What would a romantic trip to Europe be without dancing?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t dance!” But she was on her feet and being pulled toward the middle of the patio.
“It’s nothing but swaying. Actually, all you have to do is hold on. I’ll move you.”
Well, that sounded sort of sexy. Lori stopped dragging her feet and followed.
His fingers wrapped more thoroughly around hers as he brought her around to face him. “That’s better,” he murmured, settling one big hand on her waist as he pulled her flush with his long body. “Much better.”
The music was louder here, slow and lovely as sex, and Quinn began to move with the promising rhythm. Lori did as he’d suggested and just held on, and it turned out he was right. Dancing was kind of nice. He was a good dancer—or a good swayer anyway—and Lori relaxed enough to rest her cheek against his chest.
He smelled good, the natural scent of his skin like pure sex to her now. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, thinking of him naked and stretched above her. The touch of his lips against her forehead sent a shiver of lust down her spine. His fingers spread wider, splaying over her hip.
“Tonight,” he whispered near her ear. “Again.”
Yes. Yes, again. Just like the night before. Only…
Lori clenched her eyes shut. She couldn’t possibly ask him.
“Please,” he murmured, and Lori’s body smoldered.
This was supposed to be her fantasy. If she couldn’t ask for what she wanted with Quinn, right here, rig
ht now, she’d miss her chance to live a dream. Lori held her breath, gathered up her courage and whispered into his shirt.
Quinn shook his head. “What?”
Lori swallowed and raised her face toward his while Quinn kept swaying, his hips pressed to hers. “Would you, um, speak Spanish? You know, to me?”
Despite being distracted by the rush of blood in her ears, Lori noticed the way his muscles stiffened beneath her hands. Oh, God. Then he smiled. “Speak Spanish, hmm?”
She pressed her face back to his shirt and didn’t answer.
“Yes, I’ll speak Spanish to you, mi querida. Do you want to call me Quinto? Or would you prefer not to know my name?”
“Shut up,” she said as clearly as she could with her face buried in cotton.
“But if I shut up, how will I speak the dirty Spanish words to you, mi pequeña gatita?”
She could either run away or she could laugh, so Lori laughed. Running away wouldn’t get her any hot corsair action. And this wasn’t her real life. If it were, she wouldn’t be slow dancing with a handsome man in a Spanish café.
So once she’d gathered up her courage—again—Lori lifted her head from his chest, leaned into his neck and licked him. Quinn growled just like a pirate.
“Estás cortejando peligro, mujer.”
Oh, yeah. Whatever he’d said, it sounded wonderful. She bit gently at the tendon in his neck, rubbing her tongue against his skin, reveling in the faint rasp of his stubble.
“Eres una bruja. Bastante.” He broke the embrace and pulled her off the dance floor. “Vámanos.”
The bill was waiting, thank God. Apparently it had been clear to the waiter that the dessert they wanted wasn’t on the menu. Quinn slapped a stack of bills on the table, and they were already turning toward escape when a female voice stopped Lori in her tracks.
“Quinn Jennings, is that you?”
Quinn’s face froze in a look of such shocked frustration it would have been comical if Lori’s heart wasn’t sinking. She could see the woman approaching over Quinn’s shoulder, and she was gorgeous. Of course.
He turned and saw the woman, too. Lori caught the edge of a smile as he spotted her.
“Yasmine,” he said.
Yasmine? Unbelievable. Almost as unbelievable as how impossibly attractive she was. Mahogany skin, straight black hair accented with streaks of dark brown that picked up the color of her eyes even in the dim light. And she was thin. And tall. Taller than Quinn in her stiletto-heeled boots.
Her little scrap of a shirt fluttered around her as she drew closer to Quinn and kissed him on the cheek. The dark jeans looked painted on; the woman couldn’t have worn underwear with them if she’d tried. Lori fought the urge to growl and bare her teeth.
“Quinn, I haven’t seen you in ages!”
“It’s been a long time,” he responded, while Lori glared at his back.
“Too long. We should go out for a drink sometime,” the woman purred.
He laughed. “I think your new husband might object to that.” Finally, he turned and reached for Lori’s hand. “Yasmine, this is Lori Love. Lori, this is Yasmine Harrington.”
“A pleasure,” Yasmine cooed, her eyes flicking down Lori’s body in a quick trip.
“Nice to meet you,” Lori made herself say.
The woman’s skin actually threw off a silky sheen when she raised her hand to touch Quinn’s elbow. “I can see I’m interrupting a business dinner, so I’ll leave you two alone.”
“No—” Quinn started, but Yasmine was already waving her fingers and calling “Ciao!” before he could say more. Really, what was the point anyway? The clarification would be worse than the mistake. Strangely enough, she’s actually my date.
“Sorry about that,” he muttered.
Lori’s jaw was beginning to ache, so apparently she’d been clenching her teeth. She unlocked her jaw. “No problem. Look, I was about to forget my purse anyway.” She snatched it off the floor and folded her arms. “Ready to go? I’ve got to get home.”
“Home? Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? A minute ago we were about to tear each other’s clothes off, and now you’re fuming.”
“Can we just leave?”
He looked down to her crossed arms. “No, we cannot. Why are you so pissed?”
After glancing around to be sure no one was watching, Lori stepped closer to their table for privacy. “What do you think is wrong? You used to date that woman, right?”
He eyed her warily. “Yes. A couple of years ago.”
“Damn it,” she hissed. “You told me that Barbie dolls weren’t your type!”
“Yasmine does not have fake boobs,” he protested.
“That’s not what I meant—”
Quinn cut her off. “She’s an attorney, for God’s sake.”
“Oh, great! She’s tall and model-y and gorgeous and she’s intelligent? Even better.”
He threw up his hands. “So? Would you feel better if I’d only dated trolls before? What the hell would that say about you?”
“Forget it. If you want to date a girl from the wrong side of the tracks for a little excitement, that’s your business. Let’s go.”
“The wrong side of the…” His jaw muscles clenched and fury leaped to cold life in his eyes. They seemed to change from hazel to pure pale green as she watched. “Yeah, it’s hard to go slumming in Aspen. I had to hit up Tumble Creek to find a girl like you.”
“Screw you,” she snapped back.
Quinn leaned forward, voice lowered to a dangerous calm. “Don’t even try to make this into something weird, Lori. We grew up in the same place, so get over your complex. Unless, of course, this is part of your fantasy. The asshole rich boy and the noble girl from the poor family.”
“Fuck off,” she growled.
Quinn’s fingers wrapped hard around her elbow. “Let’s go.” He pulled her in a different direction than they’d been heading.
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a back way out.”
Apparently he was too furious to make small talk with Stefan. Lori was grateful, because there was a good chance she’d burst into frustrated tears at any moment. She was being ridiculous. This was a fling. It didn’t matter who else he was attracted to.
Except it did. She felt small and boyish and uncouth. She felt as if she was walking through the middle of a European cafe wearing coveralls.
They seemed to be approaching a vine-covered wall, and Lori slowed in confusion, but then Quinn reached into the greenery and twisted, and the wall revealed itself as a gate that swung open onto a dark alley.
This ritzy Aspen block might look quaint and pretty from the front, but back here the buildings rose up in two stories of unpainted cinder blocks. Lori was still glancing around when the gate swung closed with an ominous click.
“I thought we were past this.” His voice floated to her like the rumble of a storm and his shadow drew nearer. Lori backed up a step. He followed.
“I want you,” he said, the words threatening. “Do you get that?”
Lori nodded. Her eyes were adjusting, and she could see him now as he reached out to curve his hand behind her neck. His fingers felt hot and strong, and not the least bit elegant.
“I want you. Now.”
Her heart stopped beating for a moment. She felt the echo of it fade to complete silence before it finally restarted with a hard thump. “Okay,” she breathed.
Finally, he kissed her—a punishing kiss, her brain volunteered, and it certainly was. Quinn was furious. And when he pulled her hard against his body, she knew he wasn’t just furious but also incredibly ready. And just like that, she was ready, too. Wet and hot for him. Quinn backed her up to the wall of the building next door, and Lori went willingly.
When he pushed her against the hot cement brick, Lori began to shake. When he tugged the neckline of her dress down and exposed one naked breast, she groaned. Her bra hadn’t gone with th
is dress, and when his hand closed roughly over her, Lori was so glad.
This was insane. She could still hear the music of the restaurant, could clearly hear people laughing, silverware clinking. She tried not to moan too loudly when he pinched her nipple and sucked her tongue into his mouth, but when he pushed his hard cock against her, she couldn’t help her groan. She broke free of his kiss to get air into her straining lungs.
“Es esto lo que deseas?” he rasped. “Deseas la prueba de mi lujuria? Do you need me to show you how much I want you?”
“Yes,” she sobbed. Yes, she wanted him to prove how much he wanted her. Leave her with no room for doubt, because her body was so damn full of him.
He cursed against her neck, and Lori heard him tear open a condom wrapper. The sound of his zipper lowering seemed to scrape over all the nerves in her body. Her sex tightened as if she were close to coming.
Quinn pulled up a handful of her dress, then grabbed one side of her panties and yanked them down. Kicking a foot free just in time for Quinn to lift her, she curled her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. Before she was ready, he shoved his cock deep into her.
“Oh, God,” she gasped.
“Yes,” he grunted, buried to the hilt inside her. “You’re so hot.”
His hips shifted away for a brief moment, then thrust hard and fast against her, filling her once again. She cried out, unable to hold it back, but that didn’t stop Quinn. He thrust again and again, deeper every time.
“Tómalo,” he ordered, “Tómalo todo.”
“Yes,” Lori moaned, not caring in the least what he’d said, just needing to please him. “Yes, please.”
Tightening her hold on his neck, she arched her back to take him deeper. He was so hard, so big, that even as wet as she was, the friction rubbed rough against her nerves.
Quinn licked a path up her neck and bit just below her ear. “Eres mía.”
“Yes.”
“Siempre que deseo.”
“Yes!”
He pressed her shoulders more firmly against the wall, giving himself the leverage to fuck her harder.
“Oh, God,” she groaned. “Oh, Quinn.”
He kissed her neck again, sucked her flesh between his teeth while Lori pressed her head hard to the wall.
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