Don’t do it. Ever.
Even Jase, who knew nearly every little thing about her, wasn’t well-acquainted with the early years of her childhood. And she liked it that way.
She’d overcome the troubles in her past. Just like she was about to overcome the ones in her present.
So why had she mentioned her mother at all, let alone the father she hated? Why had she used a man she hadn’t seen since she was eleven years old as an excuse to not be affected by a bit of strong turbulence? She could’ve easily said that she and Lawrence flew all the time. Because that was true, too. Hawaii, Whistler. Even South America. They’d done plenty of travelling.
But she hadn’t said any of that.
And that’s what scared the shit out of her.
She cast a sidelong glance at Quinn.
His lids were down, but she had a funny feeling he was keeping his eyes closed for her benefit. To give her the space she needed in the claustrophobic state brought on by her offhand remarks about her dad being a pilot and her mom being dead.
Which was silly. Because how the hell would he even know that she needed the space?
Ginnie prided herself on being able to maintain a cool exterior under even the most strenuous circumstances. Like having her marriage forcibly ripped out from under her. With the exception of what she’d shared with Jase, she’d kept the details to herself. Kept her emotion in check.
Somehow, Quinn – a virtual stranger – made that impossible.
And for some reason, she also had to keep reminding herself that Quinn was a stranger. Because as much as his presence unnerved her – well, unnerved her body anyway – she also felt oddly at home with him. Warm. Easy. It made no sense at all.
Just like the way her body responded to him. To the sound of his voice. The way he’d brought her to the brink, then sent her over the edge, inside that tiny bathroom.
Unnaturally natural.
But she didn’t want that undeniably satisfying physical encounter to be the reason she’d dropped her guard. It was ridiculous. Weak. Plenty of people had meaningless sexual escapades. Especially when a little under the influence, on vacation, and on the rebound.
But inside, Ginnie knew she wasn’t most people.
She was a girl who had just discovered that her life had been barren of sexual satisfaction for twenty-four years. All the experience she’d built up with Lawrence had been…nothing. She’d been missing out. And Quinn had given her a glimpse of something better.
Even right that second, as the plane started its rapid decent, she had to fight an urge to reach out and clasp his open hand, which rested between them.
His well-moisturized hand.
God, had that been distracting.
His fingers working over the back of his hand. And the palm of his hand. Rubbing up against the nails and over the knuckles. Kneading and smoothing.
A trickle of renewed need wriggled through Ginnie, from her lips all the way down to her knees.
She could easily picture those hands of his working open the button of his jeans, reaching in to close around his erection. It would be supple and hard. And his hands would be smooth from the lotion she’d mockingly tossed his way. The perfect contrast.
The plane bumped to the ground, sending Ginnie’s skirt flying, and as she remembered that she wasn’t wearing any underwear, another image popped into her head. It was of herself, turning to Quinn, straddling him right then and there.
She closed her eyes, but it only made the vision more vivid.
Her thigh wrapped around his hips, his hands on her waist. His pierced tongue caressing her body. And the jostle of the plane, thrusting them together, again and again.
The trickle of desire threatened to become a raging river.
“Ginnie?”
“Shit!”
The enticing vision flew away as Ginnie realized that Quinn’s eyes were open now, and he’d fixed her with a half-concerned, half-amused smile. “You all right?”
“Yes!” It wasn’t quite a gasp. Was it? “Why wouldn’t I be all right?”
“Because I just said your name and the response was a curse?”
“I thought you were sleeping. You startled me.”
“Uh huh,” he replied, disbelief clear in his voice. “Just so you know, …they announced a full minute ago that we’re allowed to get off the plane now.”
A full minute?
Ginnie glanced around and saw that First Class was nearly empty already. Even the flight attendants seemed to be missing.
“You’re a very bad First Class passenger,” Quinn observed, still sounding amused. “We’re supposed to be allowed to priority deplane.”
Ginnie narrowed her eyes. “If we’re allowed to get off the plane, how come you’re still sitting there?”
Quinn’s smile grew. “Maybe I was waiting for you.”
“Or maybe you were just waiting to use that line.”
“Only one way to find out. Get up and see if I follow you.”
In spite of the way she screamed at it not to, Ginnie’s heart skipped a beat. She unbuckled her seatbelt, came to her feet, and looked down at Quinn, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Hmm. Now it looks more like I’m waiting for you,” she stated.
Quinn stood up, too, his wide body taking up most of the space between the seats. He lifted his arms up in a lazy stretch. It provided a momentarily distracting view of one lean hip.
Dammit.
“Still waiting,” Ginnie said, forcing her eyes up to his face.
“Just the way I like it.”
“Ha.”
Ginnie spun away and marched up the aisle, but Quinn was hot on her heels. Literally. She could feel his warmth as he followed closely behind her.
His hand found her elbow, stopping her hurried flight. Familiar. Possessive. Enticing.
Heart-thumping-ly terrifying.
“You making big plans here in Asscrack, Colorado?” he asked.
“I think the pilot said it was called Huntingdon,” Ginnie corrected dryly.
“The pilot also said we were going to Vegas,” he reminded her. “So I’m not sure we can trust him to be right about anything. And if you don’t have big plans…”
“My plans involve pajamas and a hot bath.”
Quinn’s eyes dragged over her, and Ginnie warmed. Was he picturing her in her pajamas? Or in the bath? If he was…Did he like what he saw?
His gaze steadied after a second, and he winked. “You sure you won’t be needing me again?”
“Again?” she countered. “I wasn’t aware that I needed you in the first place.”
“Right. I forgot that you have your lotion.”
“The lotion doesn’t do it for me.”
It wasn’t what Ginnie intended to say. She’d meant to vehemently deny any kind of need whatsoever. And Quinn picked up on the slip right away.
Without warning, he slid his hand from her elbow to her wrist, twisted her sideways, and pushed her against a row of seats. He pressed his body flush against hers.
Ginnie glanced up and down the aisle. They were alone.
Where had all the other passengers gone? And where were the damned flight attendants? Where was her shield against the intensity in Quinn’s amber eyes?
“Genevieve?”
“Yes?” she whispered.
“What does do it for you? What do you need?” he asked, soft and sexy.
Ginnie swallowed nervously. “Need is a strong word.””
“Now who’s arguing semantics?” he teased.
“I’m not – ” She cut herself off and tried again. “I don’t need anything.”
“So you didn’t need me back there in that bathroom? You merely wanted me?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re pretty damned good at twisting people’s words?”
“Yep.”
“Are you going to let me go anytime soon?”
He inched closer. “Nope.”
“No?”
&n
bsp; “Not until you agree to indulge my desire to hang out with you here in Asscrack.”
“You realize how wrong that sounds?”
“Yep.”
“And if I say no to indulging you?”
“I’ll follow you around until you have no choice but to say yes instead.”
“I’m pretty sure that even Asscrack, Colorado must have a law against stalking.”
He grinned a lopsided grin. “And I’m pretty sure I can find my way around that law.”
Ginnie shook her head. “I should’ve known the second I laid eyes on you.”
“Known what?”
“That you were a criminal.”
He reached up to trace a lazy finger down her cheek. “Would that bother you? If I was on the wrong side of the law?”
“Yes.”
It was a lie. At that moment, she wouldn’t have cared if he was a trained assassin, out for her blood. All she wanted was for his hand to continue its gentle ministrations. Cupping her cheek, sliding to the back of her neck…Then those fingers of his found her jugular and she knew he must be able to feel the way her pulse was thrumming.
“You sure about that answer?” he asked teasingly.
No.
The word popped into her mind. But it didn’t make it out. Quinn’s palm slid to her chin and his lips crashed into hers and his tongue drove through her mouth in a ferocious exploration that made Ginnie’s head spin and her toes curl.
But its intensity was short-lived.
Quinn jerked back, and Ginnie’s eyes flew open to see a thick hand on his arm, yanking him away. A firm but authoritative voice accompanied the aggressive maneuver.
“If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut and my eyes to myself. And let go of the girl. Quickly.”
A protest built up in Ginnie’s throat, but died quickly when Quinn gave her a quick headshake as his arms dropped to his sides.
Why?
He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would just lie back and take it. Whatever it was.
And then Ginnie got a full view of the man who’d issued the warning.
He was a cop.
Or something like it. An airport official with a uniform and a sidearm and a two-way radio fastened to his shoulder and a patch on his chest that said is name was Gilligan. TSA, maybe. Probably.
And when he moved slightly, Ginnie realized he wasn’t alone, either. Three other men accompanied him. Two stood back with their hands resting a little too casually close to their weapons. And a final one, who reached for Ginnie, closed a none-too-gentle fist on her elbow, and pulled her even further away from Quinn.
And she was too surprised – and too scared – to protest as the tight-lipped guards stepped between them – deliberately she thought – and shuffled them from the plane.
No one said a word as they marched down the stairs directly onto the tiny tarmac. The ground was coated with snow, and it still fell from the sky. The blank scenery and the cold air momentarily distract Ginnie.
Asscrack, Colorado.
And they really did seem to be in the middle of nowhere. Unlike the airport she’d come from, and presumably the one where she was supposed to be headed, there were no twinkling city lights on display. The only sign of civilization was a few dull glows in the distance.
She paused for a second to stare out at the nothingness, and the airport security man gave her an impatient tap on the shoulder.
“Move,” he grunted.
All this? Seriously? For a little bathroom action? What are they going to do, throw us in jail? Shit. What if they do throw us in jail? What if we’re labeled as sex offenders? Shit with a cherry on top. If I get a police record because of this…Maybe they’ll just fine us. But what if it’s a big fine? Like, hundred grand. I don’t have a hundred thousand dollars to…Ginnie’s thoughts trailed off as they got closer to the rundown air terminal, she saw that what they didn’t lack was an audience. A line of passengers from the plane stood waiting at a counter. And every one of them had his or her eyes fixed out the window, gawking at them.
Ginnie scanned the crowd, automatically seeking out Lawrence. It only took a second to find him. There he was, the brunette wrapped around him, her face pressed into his neck. And he was looking right at Ginnie. And her unwelcome entourage.
Immediately, Ginnie’s face flamed. A smile – visible even from the distance between – tipped up her former husband’s mouth, making Ginnie’s feet begin to drag. Then they stopped moving completely once again.
The guard on her arm gave her a little pull, but she couldn’t make herself respond. He shoved her a bit harder, making Ginnie’s feet slip.
And a snarl from Quinn let her know that at last he’d reacted.
Ten
Truthfully, Quinn had been holding in his fury and frustration since the second the short, stout man named Gilligan had grabbed him.
Not because the man wore a gun he could probably yield, and not because TSA was the shit at the airport – and they were probably more than the shit at this tiny terminal – and sure as hell not because he was scared of any of them.
It was something more refined.
Professional courtesy. Respect.
Simple as that.
Even though it sucked to be hauled from the plane. Even though he hated the way the passengers were scrutinizing them as it happened. Even though the other man’s hand on Ginnie’s arm was making him crazy, he continued to hold it in. He’d decided to wait until they got inside, wait until they were out of the public eye, then speak to them calmly. Like colleagues. Like equals. Work out just what the hell was going on. He knew he’d have an easier time of convincing them to tell him if he played nice.
But Quinn didn’t get a chance to follow through on his plan. Halfway across the tarmac, he saw the guard shove Ginnie, and the girl stumbled.
What the hell?
It was too much. His self-restraint and his training could only take him so far before protective instinct took over.
Yeah, it was stupid and reckless. Yeah, it was get-yourself-shot-in-the-ass-worthy.
Quinn knew it and he didn’t care.
Instead, he let emotion rule, allowed it to guide his actions as he spun away from the half-assed hold his own guard had on his arm and dove toward the man holding Ginnie.
In a heartbeat, Quinn had him pulled close to his body, had his gun out of his holster, and had dropped the weapon to the icy ground.
Not so tough now, are you, jackass?
His smugness at his own quick move only lasted a moment. A click behind him told him that one of the other guards had drawn a gun, and the little whimper from Ginnie told him the man must have it trained in his direction. Then a rough grip closed on his collar and yanked him off.
The first guard – Gilligan – spoke in a low, measured tone, right at Quinn’s ear. “We’re a small town, and right now we have an audience. Not to mention that half those nitwits watching us also probably have their cell phones on video mode. I don’t want the bad publicity, so I’m not going to consider firing. But you don’t want to try my goodwill, either, so you’re going to step back from Mr. Jones, you’re going to step between Mr. Riles and Mr. Farisi, and the three of you are going to walk into the airport. I will take Mrs. Michaels in separately. Are we clear?”
The man’s use of the word I instead of the word we placated Quinn. At least for the moment. So long as Jones-the-Asswipe kept his hands off of Ginnie.
“Are we clear?” Gilligan repeated.
“Clear,” he agreed gruffly.
Quinn stepped back, cursed his unusual lack of control, and shot Ginnie an apologetic look. Whatever was going on was likely his fault. She was holding very still, her face a mask of impassivity, an emotional wall up.
Shit.
Quinn tried to take a step toward her and Gilligan held him in place. Quinn automatically bucked against being restrained, and when he tried to yank himself away, the other man slapped a pair of cuffs onto his wrists. Tight. Then h
e pushed Quinn to the snowy ground and shot him a frown.
“Dr. Michaels,” Gilligan said calmly. “I thought you told me we were clear.”
Quinn flipped his head toward the other man.
“I’m not Dr. Michaels,” he snapped.
For the first time, the guard looked a little put out. “You’re not Dr. and Mrs. Lawrence Michaels?”
“Do I look like a fucking doctor?” Quinn countered.
“In my business, experience has taught me that looks are often deceiving,” Gilligan replied.
Then Ginnie spoke up. “I’m Genevieve Michaels. But Quinn’s not my husband.”
Why the hell did those words make Quinn want to punch something? Why did the tremor of embarrassment in her voice make him feel so furious?
“You wanna tell me who you actually are, then?” Gilligan asked.
“Nobody, apparently,” Quinn muttered, just barely shy of bitter.
Gilligan sighed irritably, then nodded toward one of the other officers, who moved forward to reach into Quinn’s pocket and pull out his wallet. He held it open for Gilligan, who scanned it. His eyes went from Quinn to the ID, then back again.
“All right,” he said with another sigh. “Mr. Mcdavid, you’re with Fasiri and Mrs. Michaels is with me. Jones and Riles, you can head back to your stations.”
As the senior officer stepped close to Fasiri to issue some hushed instructions, Quinn’s eyes sought Ginnie. Her expression was now completely unreadable, and she refused to look at him.
“I’ll fix this,” Quinn vowed. “I’ll sort it out and find you.”
As soon as the promise was out of his mouth, he realized he meant it. He had to protect her. Far more than he had to keep his commitment to Jase. Quinn was damned sure that he was directly responsible for the stiff way Ginnie held herself. The fiasco in the bathroom was his fault, and he was determined to undo it. As soon as possible.
Then the guard assigned to handle Quinn finished speaking to Gilligan, grabbed the cuffs and pulled him to his feet, then slapped his hand onto the back of Quinn’s neck, and began to guide him roughly across the remainder of the tarmac. He didn’t release him, even when they were well-within the terminal. Instead, he led Quinn through the airport and past the little crowd gathered there. Then kept going even farther. Across the dated linoleum floor, wide around the baggage carousel, and all the way to a corridor marked Emergency Exit in bold red letters. They took a few steps into the hall, then finally stopped.
Mile High Weekend (Opposites Attract Book 1) Page 7