“You’ll soon see.”
“I can hear the waves lapping on the shore.”
She didn’t protest that he carried her. She didn’t once ask for him to set her down, just snuggled deeper against his chest.
Maggie loved him. Or she wouldn’t have taken Laine’s place.
Maggie loved him. Or she wouldn’t have come here with him tonight. Nor would she have done what they had just done.
Maggie loved him—she just didn’t know it yet. That’s why she hadn’t jumped all over the opportunity to open her own casting agency. She didn’t want to take anything from him that could cloud the issue. Sweet, bold Maggie. Didn’t she understand that she could have his love and her casting agency, too?
Quinn might have a reputation for ruthlessly going after what he wanted, but that he could also be patient was part of his key to success. If Maggie needed time to come to terms with her feelings, he would wait her out. And, meanwhile, they would work together, spend their nights together and watch the sun rise together.
Quinn had made arrangements earlier and everything looked perfect. “You can remove the blindfold.”
Her fingers moved quickly, like a little kid eager to unwrap a present. It took her a moment and several blinks before her eyes focused on him. She didn’t seem to care where he’d brought her. She only seemed interested in seeing his expression. He only hoped the firelight reflected the love in his eyes.
She reached up and placed her palm on his jaw. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
She grinned. “For starters, giving me so many orgasms. And for arranging our night together.”
“I’m going to give you so much that you’ll be dying to grow old with me,” he promised.
She stilled. Her eyes clouding with doubt.
He’d gone too far, too fast and left her behind. She wasn’t ready to hear about forever. And he knew better, damn it.
To cover up his error in revealing too much, too soon, he spun in a circle, twirling her. Automatically she grabbed behind his neck to steady herself and when he cradled her as they fell to the blankets on the beach, she was breathless and laughing, her doubts set aside for now.
She craned her neck, taking in the campfire, the blanket and the custom trailer parked above the high-tide mark. Her eyebrow raised. “We’re camping out?”
“In luxury. A wealthy friend owns two miles of this beach, so we’re all alone. And that trailer has a bathroom with gold faucets and a marble tub big enough to fit two of us. There’s a king-size mattress, and a gourmet meal, all cooked and waiting.”
She settled back on the blanket and held out her arms to him. “We’re spending the night here?”
He held up a finger, signaling he’d be with her in a moment. “You told me I could have all of Saturday night. I don’t intend to waste a minute.” He opened a huge basket and took out a thermos, two cups and a package of marshmallows. Per his instructions, long sticks had been included.
Maggie turned on her side on the blanket. The firelight caressed her skin and added red highlights to her blond hair. “How did you arrange all this?”
“I waved my magic director wand.” One of the advantages of being a successful writer, director and producer was that not only could Quinn imagine how to set the scene, he could afford to follow through and indulge himself. “Shall I toast you a marshmallow?”
“Yes, please.”
“You’ve been saying that a lot tonight.” Enjoying the slight flare of her nostrils at his banter, he placed the marshmallow on the stick and held it over the fire.
“Just make sure you don’t burn my marshmallow.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll cook it to match my woman. Toasted golden brown on the outside and hot and melting on the inside.”
Maggie tossed aside the blanket, laced her hands behind her head and wriggled as if she knew exactly how distracting she could be. Her full breasts with their tiny coral tips were the ultimate distraction—but no way was he going to overcook her marshmallow. At least that was the plan, until she snaked her hand into his lap and traced the rim of his cock right through his slacks.
“Is that what I am? Your woman?”
“I’d like you to be.” He phrased his words with care, unwilling to frighten her again.
He turned the marshmallow over the flame, making sure to heat it evenly, and tried not to think about the sensations she was causing below the waist. It was too soon for him to harden fully, yet it was amazing what her teasing could do to his libido.
“So are we going to be mutually exclusive?”
Sheesh! What kind of a man did she think he was? One that could tell her he loved her, then skip off to see another woman? The value system he’d inherited from his parents might be different than what she’d gleaned from her more conservative midwest upbringing, but he didn’t believe in that kind of behavior.
“Yes. We are going to be mutually exclusive.” He frowned at her. “I don’t believe in cheating, Maggie. I’ve seen too much of that kind of thing from my father. I love him and so did my mother, but he was always looking for someone who might love him more or better or differently. The truth is that he can’t find a woman to love him as much as he loves himself.”
“And your mother?” Maggie asked.
“She’s so wrapped up in her work that she doesn’t always have much to give at the end of the day. My father broke her heart and, although she tried three more times, I’m not sure she ever got over him.”
“You haven’t had much of an example set for you.” Maggie eyed the marshmallow and he blew on it to cool it for her. Burning her lips and mouth with anything less than his kisses wasn’t what he had in mind.
“I learned early what I didn’t want. It’s not easy coming from the broken home of career-oriented parents. I’m counting on you to teach me about the lasting part of love.” Quinn tested the marshmallow’s heat. “Still too hot for you.”
Her eyes flickered with amusement. “So I’m going to teach you about fidelity and you’re going to decide what’s too hot for me?”
“We’ll each teach one another what we know best.” He plucked the marshmallow off the stick and pulled it into two pieces. He could tell that she expected him to hand her half. Instead, he placed one half over each nipple.
“Ooh.”
“Too hot?”
“No.” She giggled. “But it sure is going to be fun when you’re naked and it’s my turn to toast one and place it on you.”
At that statement, his erection swelled to full proportions. And as for who was teaching whom about what was hot, Maggie could most certainly hold her own.
He suspected his eyes were full of hunger as the two marshmallow halves called to him.
“Well?” she prodded. “Aren’t you going to lick me clean?”
“Eventually.”
“What do you mean eventually? These marshmallows are cooling and sticky.”
“Good. So they won’t fall off.”
“Why do I have to wait?” she asked, her beautiful lips pouting as he denied her immediate gratification in favor of prolonged anticipation.
“One tiny little marshmallow is not enough.” He plucked another marshmallow out of the bag and pushed his stick through the center.
Maggie’s eyes narrowed. Then she broke into a wide grin. “You go right ahead and toast your marshmallows, Quinn.” She unzipped his zipper and ran the tip of her finger under the rim of his cock. “Take your time. I’m not in any hurry.”
At her bold move, Quinn decided he could roast more than one marshmallow at a time. He placed two more on the stick before thrusting them over the flames.
“So what do you want out of our relationship?” she asked.
“Abundant sex. Monogamy. Companionship. Similar interests that don’t compete with one another but enhance each other. Closeness. Help through troubled times.”
“Wow. That’s quite a list.”
Quinn turned the marshmallow stick in his hand.
“I wasn’t done. I want someone who cares about herself and others. Someone who takes care of herself and expects the same of me. In other words, I want you.”
“You mentioned sex first.”
“Sex is high on my priority list,” he admitted. “Especially with you.” He stared into the flames. “You know when you told me to prove that you loved me, I thought about all kinds of crazy things. Like trying to abstain while we got to know one another better.”
“And?” she prodded.
“I didn’t want to go that route.”
“Didn’t want to deprive yourself?”
“That, too.” He stood and let her pull off his pants and boxers, giving her free access to touch him wherever she pleased. “But having sex with you is practically irresistible because I love the way you respond to me. It’s how you always urge me further than I planned to go. And you’re always open for a little experimentation.”
“And that’s not lust because…?”
He hoped he wasn’t going over the line again, scaring her with too much of the truth. “Because I care about your enjoyment more than I do my own.”
13
QUINN CARED ABOUT HER enjoyment more than his own. At his words, Maggie’s heart couldn’t help softening another degree, even while her head issued warning bells. Quinn had begun his career as a writer. In his prodigious memory were embedded the perfect lines from a hundred screenplays which he could call upon when it suited him.
Did his words reflect his feelings? And if so, did caring about another person’s pleasure more than his own mean that he had real feelings for her? Was that love? Maybe. But with Quinn it could also be ego. Part of his charm was that whatever he did, he did well. That included writing, directing and producing. That trait had shot him to the pinnacle of the Hollywood world before he was twenty-five. Polished, charming and well schooled in the art of keeping celebrities clamoring to be included in his life, he was a hard man to really know. Sometimes Maggie thought he was speaking from his heart, and other times he just seemed too damn polished to be real.
“Maggie.” He checked his marshmallows for toasted perfection.
“Yes.”
“You don’t believe me. And making love isn’t convincing you.”
Was he reading her mind?
“So do you know what it’s going to take?”
She had no idea.
“Time.”
“Time?”
“Yes.”
He tapped his temple with one finger. “Unfortunately it’s impossible for you to crawl into my head and read my thoughts without me filtering them.”
Maggie shifted on the blanket, listening intently. “And your point is?”
“You don’t know what we’ve found together because we haven’t been together—like this—for long enough.”
She frowned at him, even as she fondled him. “You don’t seem to have my doubts.”
“I don’t have any doubts. I’m sure about my feelings for you.”
“Why?”
“Because I have faith in my ability to recognize that we fit together. Our bodies, our minds and our temperaments.”
“You’re telling me that love is a leap of faith?”
“Yes.” He pulled the marshmallows away from the fire and planted the stick in the ground, allowing them to cool in the night air. “Falling in love is a risk.” He grinned his most charming grin at her. “Love may be the greatest risk of all. And I’m finding the challenge exciting.”
She loved that smile of his but wouldn’t let him charm her into automatically taking his words for the truth. “And when the challenge wears off?”
“I don’t think it will. Not if we don’t let it. The challenges may change in ways we can’t anticipate—but that’s what makes life interesting, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know.” She didn’t. Her head was spinning after all his philosophical mumbo jumbo. She’d tried to focus on his words, but as she watched him cool the marshmallows, she found her thoughts wandering to where he would put them. And she saw no reason why he should have all the fun. She held out her hand, palm up. “I want two of those, please.”
“I’m more than willing to share.” He pulled all three off the stick and handed her two.
Right before she placed one between her teeth, she demanded. “Kiss me, Quinn.”
He leaned forward, his lips meeting hers as he took half the treat into his mouth. Feeding him like this made her warm all over. Or perhaps it was knowing that after he licked the sticky stuff off her lips, he’d move on to her breasts. And she still didn’t know what he’d do with that leftover marshmallow, either, but she was up for every possibility.
Meanwhile, his kiss gave her ideas for the marshmallow she still had in her palm. She played and flattened the melted sugar until it was enlarged enough to wrap around the head of his jutting sex.
With his mouth still on hers, she could hear his swift intake of breath as she molded her hand to him, but he let her do as she pleased. And when she broke their kiss, she took her time nipping his neck, his powerful chest and his flat stomach on her way down to her intended target.
Maggie had never made love under the stars before. The sound of waves lapping gently on the beach was more sensual than any music. Her heart sang with joy and her body moved to a beat that was all Quinn’s. She lost track of how many times they made love that night. How many times they gave one another pleasure.
But as they gazed over the Pacific, the sun rising at their backs in the morning, the orange streaks with ribbons of purple streaming over the water, she wondered if she’d ever before been this happy. Or if the feeling could possibly last.
Being with Quinn was special in so many ways. Right now, they were sitting holding hands in a comfortable silence, a blanket enveloping both of them. She was learning that she liked just being with him and cuddling with him in a hushed quiet, as much as she’d previously enjoyed their conversation.
Their lovemaking had been spectacular, involving all the senses. She adored touching and being touched. And Quinn’s special male aroma alone could turn her on. So could his voice, which he used to provoke and arouse and push her further than she’d imagined possible. And never again would she see or taste a marshmallow without the treat being associated with the man.
But, most of all, she liked the way his mind worked. She’d always appreciated that he could out-think his competitors, but what she hadn’t understood before was that his brilliance was part of a character that was kind, caring and giving—as well as arrogant, egotistical and eccentric at times.
“Quinn?”
“Yes.”
“How come you don’t think I changed places with Laine to get something from you?”
“I did at first.” He squeezed her hand. “But then you never asked for anything.”
She turned from the ocean to look into his eyes. She knew how much he’d always had difficulty trusting people because so many tried to use him to get ahead. Like finding their relative a job. Casting them in a part. Buying their screenplay. She’d even urged him to read Kimberly’s, knowing her friend deserved a break, but that was how the business worked.
So she finally found the courage to ask him the question that was central to her believing his words about love. “By accepting the casting opportunity you offered, I will be taking from you. How do you know I love you—and not what you can do for me?”
“You taught me to answer that question.”
“I did?” Maggie hadn’t thought she could have taught Quinn anything. He always seemed ten steps ahead of her.
“If I lost my job tomorrow, would you still want to make love to me?”
“Of course. But you’d find another position within a day.”
“Suppose my films all flopped and no one in Hollywood would hire me?”
“You’d still be wealthy.”
“And if I lost everything in a string of failures? Would you still enjoy making love to me?”
�
��Yes. And you’d be back on top in no time, convincing new money men to back you.”
“That’s what you taught me.”
“What? That there’s someone who believes you’ll always be a success? Or that there’s someone out there who would believe in you even if you failed?”
“You’re missing the point.”
Maggie knew this issue was important but she just didn’t get it. “You aren’t being clear.”
“What I’m saying is that you taught me that I can’t separate Quinn the man from what I do for a living.”
“O…kay.” He was losing her here.
“When you grow up with parents as successful as mine, people fawn over you from an early age. I got cynical. And then I was an immediate success. So when I dated a woman, I always wondered if she would love me if I didn’t come with wealth, power and status. You made me realize that’s part of me. You can’t separate me from what I do.”
She cocked her head. “That’s good, right?”
He chuckled and slung an arm over her shoulder. “Yes, Maggie, that’s good.”
“So you don’t mind my nagging you to read Kimberly’s script?” she teased.
He leaned over and nipped her ear, fanning a warm breath of desire down her neck. “I didn’t say that.”
She tried to shove him back, but he didn’t budge. “Don’t you dare try to distract me from the subject.”
“Okay. I’ll read it. But I’m not buying it if it’s not any good—not even for you.”
“QUINN. MAGGIE. ARE YOU dressed?” Kimberly’s voice was followed by her appearance from behind the trailer.
“Hold up a minute,” Quinn ordered, seemingly unfazed by his production assistant’s sudden appearance.
He slid from beneath the blanket, and Maggie shivered as cold air replaced the warmth Quinn had lent her. He pulled on his slacks and slung a shirt over his shoulders, then turned to face Kimberly, his eyes curious, his face unreadable.
Maggie, her clothes nowhere in sight and nowhere as calm as Quinn, yanked the blanket to her chin. She already knew Kimberly wouldn’t have tracked them to Canada and this beach if not for some emergency. Her heart started to pound like it did when her phone rang unexpectedly in the middle of the night.
Bordering on Obsession Page 17