Twenty-One
Quinn looked up as Lukas approached, and as had been the case all day – ever since Dawn Jenner’s revelations had become public knowledge – she felt all eyes fall on them. But she could deal with this. She didn’t really have a choice, none of them did. Once more their messed up private lives were being exposed for the world to see, and there was only so much anyone could do to lessen the impact. Harry had Carter Conway doing his best to stop any more shit from hitting the fan, but nobody really knew what Dawn Jenner had planned. If anything. What she’d done today, that might be all the ammunition she had, who really knew?
“You OK?” Lukas asked, and Quinn couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry.” Lukas dropped his gaze for a second. “Stupid question.”
Quinn said nothing. She didn’t really know what to say. She was working on auto-pilot today, switching it on for the cameras, doing her job, becoming that somebody else she needed to be for a few hours and that was good. It was necessary, today of all days. Being someone else was a chance to forget the real-life crap happening around them, because she didn’t know if she was ready to deal with that just yet. But she was going to have to, at some point.
“Quinn?”
She raised her gaze, Lukas’s eyes still on her, his expression one of concern.
“We need to talk.”
He was right. They did need to talk. She just didn’t feel much like doing it right now. “I know. But maybe Aaron deserves that conversation before you, huh?”
Lukas once more dropped his gaze, a slight smile crossing his face. “I’m sorry, Quinn.”
“You keep saying that, Lukas, and it still doesn’t change anything.”
She slid down from the chair she’d been sitting on at the edge of the set, running her fingers through her hair and shaking it out. She was done with giving everyone here a show, she needed some privacy now.
“I’m going home. To talk to my husband.”
“Quinn…”
She looked down at his hand gently grasping her wrist, but he didn’t let go of her. “What do you want me to do, Lukas?” she hissed, wishing he wasn’t doing this here, not here. Not where everyone could watch an exchange that didn’t need to be this public. Or didn’t he care anymore? Because she did. She cared.
“I want us to talk about what’s happening here, Quinn.”
The way he was looking at her; the intensity in his eyes, it was unsettling.
“And we will. We’ll talk. But I need to see Aaron first because I am this close to losing him, Lukas. Do you understand? He’s tired of this crap, and so am I. So I need to talk to him, first.”
His fingers tightened around her wrist and she stared down at them, her stomach clenching in fear and confusion.
“Let go of me.” She raised her gaze, her eyes burning into his. And then she felt his grip loosen, his hand falling away from her and she stepped back, her composure intact. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lukas.”
She watched as he gave a slight nod and dropped his head, digging his hands into his pockets. There was nothing more she could do here. It was time to go home, and hope to God that Aaron was there.
***
Lukas watched her walk away, and with every step she took he felt his frustration grow, his need to get her alone rising by the second. But he was also filled with a new kind of hope. It was obvious things between her and Aaron were strained now. They’d tried to minimize the effects of the day’s events on-set but he could see through it all. He could see the tension, sense the gap that was widening between Quinn and her husband, and while part of him felt guilty for feeling good about that – he wanted her to be happy. She deserved to be happy. But the bigger part of him knew that if that gap widened enough it could, quite possibly, tear them too far apart for them ever to recover. And then he’d be the one to step in and pick up the pieces of her shattered life.
He’d broken her once, but that wouldn’t happen again. This time he’d be the one to fix her.
***
Quinn threw her purse down onto the couch and walked over to the huge French doors at the back of the kitchen; the ones that looked out over a view she’d once described as fairytale. The sun bounced off the clear blue swimming pool that was surrounded by palm trees and masses of vivid pink and purple bougainvillea that merged into the array of plants and shrubs that stretched out into the distance, leading to a modestly sized, white-board summer house at the far end of the yard. Yard. She remembered how she’d smiled at that when she’d first seen this place. Back in England she’d grown up in a three-bedroomed semi-detached house with a garden that she’d thought, at the time, was huge with its wide expanse of lawn lined with fruit trees. But this – she’d seen smaller parks, as a child. But she loved this garden. This back yard. She loved this house. She and Aaron had bought this place together, their first home. They’d got married, here, outside on the terrace. They’d made love in that summer house, had sex in that pool, and she felt her breath catch in her throat at the memories that now tore her apart. Because that’s all they could turn out to be now. Memories.
She pushed open the doors and stepped out into the late evening sunshine, crossing her arms against herself, breathing a sigh of relief as she saw him standing there, his hands in his pockets as he stared out ahead.
“I didn’t know if you’d be here,” she said, walking up beside him, resting her hand tentatively on his hip.
“I came to pack a few things, before I head over to Owen’s.” He turned his head to look at her, and Quinn felt her stomach dip. His expression was almost impassive, and that broke her heart. “Harry said I should I talk to you first. Before I went anywhere.”
She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the hand that was still resting against his hip, and he seemed in no hurry for her to remove it, but she pulled it away, crossing her arms back against herself. “I don’t want you to go, Aaron.”
“And I don’t want to go, Quinn. I don’t want any of this to be happening, but it is. It’s happening. And we have to deal with that however we can.”
“By running away?”
“I’m not running away, baby, I just – I need some time to get my head around this, to think about…” It was his turn to shift his gaze as he looked out over the pool and the gardens beyond, raking a hand through his hair, and this time his expression seemed almost pained. “I don’t know what’s happening here, Quinn. Not really.” He turned back to face her, and she felt her heart shatter even more. “Or maybe I do. Maybe we all know what’s really happening here.”
“They’ll say you’re running away, Aaron. The press, the media, they’ll all say that you’re running away.”
“I don’t care what they say, or what they think, Quinn, OK? What I care about is us. I care about fixing this.” He stopped talking, but his eyes never left hers, and her stomach dipped even further as a sickening reality crept over her. “If it can be fixed at all.”
She broke the stare and breathed in deep, exhaling slowly, biting down on her lip as she fought back tears that were threatening to break free. And then she felt his hand reach for hers and she breathed in deep again as he took it, holding it tight, confusion sweeping over her in waves.
“I think we could both do with a drink, don’t you?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him; her beautiful husband. Her perfect man. And she nodded, and he squeezed her hand gently and led her inside, and all Quinn felt was a mixture of panic and fear and an overwhelming sadness that she couldn’t seem to batter down.
He let go of her hand and she watched as he poured two large measures of whiskey into tumblers, handing one to her. She took a sip and closed her eyes as the liquid burned her throat, the alcohol warming her belly, but it couldn’t take the edge off what was happening here. It couldn’t ease the sadness or take away the pain.
“I made a mess of everything,” she whispered, looking down into her glass.
“We weren’t a mess, Quinn. We were never a mess.”
She raised her gaze and looked at him, and he smiled slightly, and she felt another piece of her heart break away. “I love you so much, Aaron.”
“I know.” He took her glass and placed it on the table, taking her hand, his fingers curling around hers and she felt her stomach dive lower, those nerves, that fear flooding her once again. “And I love you too, baby.” His mouth moved closer to hers, his breath warm on her skin, and she closed her eyes and breathed him in, swallowing him down as he pushed her gently back against the wall. “I love you, too.”
He let go of her hand and slowly opened her wrap-over dress, his mouth touching hers in the lightest of kisses. Her breath hitched as his teeth nipped her lower lip, his fingers grazing her skin as he pushed her dress back off her shoulders, trailing lightly over her collarbone until they found the curve of her breasts and she breathed in deep, pushing her breasts out as he freed them from the confines of her bra. They were supposed to be talking, this wasn’t really helping, but maybe this was better than facing up to the reality it seemed neither of them were ready to deal with just yet. So she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his palm pressed against her aching nipples; his mouth covering her neck in tiny, feather-light kisses. She was going to savor every heartbreaking second, every touch was going to be engrained into her brain in case… No. She wasn’t going to think about that, not yet. He was here, now, and she needed this, needed him, and what happened after that, she’d deal with it. They both would. They all would. They had no choice.
“Come on,” he murmured, taking her hand and leading her back outside, and she followed without hesitation, letting herself be swept up into his strong arms as they reached poolside. And she felt a shiver run back and forth up and down her spine because she knew what was going to happen here. “I need you naked,” he whispered, his mouth touching hers as he spoke, every word sending a beautiful tremor right through her until her thighs ached and her skin tingled.
She stepped back from him and hooked her fingers into the sides of her panties, watching as his gaze dropped, waiting for her to take them off. But she wanted him to do it. She wanted him to slide them down and expose her. And he got that, stepping toward her and reaching out, pulling her hands away and replacing them with his own, his mouth crashing down onto hers as he slowly slid her panties over her hips, her thighs, dragging them down until they hit the floor. And he pulled her naked body against his still-clothed one, his hand fanning out in the small of her back as he held her, and that control; that feeling of submission burned through her to the point where she could feel herself becoming wetter. And she ached for him. So it was his turn now, to get naked.
She took hold of his T-shirt and dragged it over his head, tossing it aside before she loosened his belt, unzipped his jeans and yanked them down, eager to feel his hardness in her hand, her fingers automatically reaching for his cock, stroking it lightly, his moans filling her head as his mouth pressed against her neck.
“We’re going in, baby,” he murmured, pulling her back toward the pool and she smiled, pushing all the crap to one side because all she needed now was him. This. Some time together to confuse the situation even more, but she didn’t care. This was happening. She was taking him, he was taking her, and what happened after that…
She watched as he lowered himself into the pool, his tall, toned, naked body a thing of beauty. He was unreal, at times, in her eyes. Almost perfect. What you saw on screen was what she got in reality, and she felt her stomach dip so low she had to take another deep breath to steady herself.
Grasping the top of the steps she lowered herself into the pool, backing up against the side as he moved in front of her, his hand falling to her hip, his mouth closing in on hers once more in a deep, sensual kiss that caused her to moan inwardly, her body giving in to him immediately. He could take what he wanted, anything, he could have it. All of it. She was his, completely, for however long this was going to last.
The warm water lapped around their naked bodies as he continued to touch her, his thumb now gently stroking the outer edges of her labia, and she gasped as he applied a touch more pressure before sliding his hand fully between her legs, causing her knees to buckle slightly. His arm slid around her waist to steady her, and she reached back to grasp the wall of the pool as his fingers continued to play with her, her head falling back as his mouth pressed against the base of her throat, a low, guttural groan escaping as his breath warmed her skin. She could feel her whole body tensing up as she waited for his next move, because he was in charge here. She was his plaything, his toy, his to do with as he wished, and that ache she felt before was growing to the point of becoming painful now. She needed him inside her like a junkie needs their next fix, so when he slid his hands round to her ass and lifted her up she couldn’t stop the cry of relief as he lowered her back down onto him, filling her up, consuming her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she clung on, taking him deep, the water making everything seem almost effortless as he thrust into her gently and slowly, bringing her to a climax that rocked her to her core, a crashing orgasm that she felt in every fiber of her being. Every inch of her skin tingled as her legs gripped his hips even tighter, pulling him in deeper, clenching his cock like a vice until he too exploded in a long, drawn-out spasm, his mouth on hers as he came, the kiss harsh and brutal and beautiful. And then he stilled, both of them taking a second to catch what little breath they had left, and this time the kiss was slower, more gentle, but as she clenched her muscles around him once more she felt him tense up, another wave crashing over him as he came again, another spasm taking over his hard, taut body as he emptied himself into her and she clamped her legs even tighter around him, making sure she took it all, every last drop. And when it was finally over she stayed wrapped around him, falling into him as he held her, his arms cocooning her against him, the silence that surrounded them peaceful and calming. The only sound they could hear was the gentle lapping of the water and birds chattering away to each other somewhere out in the distance. This house really was their safe haven. Their fairytale castle, as she’d once called it, even though it didn’t resemble a castle in any way. But it was their fortress. Theirs.
“Stay with me tonight,” she whispered, pulling back slightly so she could look at him, running her fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back off his handsome face. “Please.”
He smiled slightly, his fingers lightly tracing her cheekbone, his lips gently brushing over hers. “What are we doing, Quinn?”
“Trying to save us.”
“We need to talk.”
“And we can’t do that if you leave.”
He bowed his head, just a touch, for the briefest of seconds before he raised his gaze, his eyes boring deep into hers. “Then I guess I’m staying.”
And that was all she’d wanted to hear.
Twenty-Two
Aaron turned over and reached out, expecting to find her there beside him but her side of the bed was empty. He placed his hand on the mattress. It was still warm so she hadn’t been gone long, and he got up, pulling on jeans and a T-shirt and raking his hands back through his hair before he almost ran downstairs to the kitchen.
“Quinn?”
He stopped for a second, standing still as he caught sight of her sitting at the table, her head down. And she didn’t look up, didn’t even react to his voice.
“Baby? Is something…?”
And then Harry appeared, somebody Aaron hadn’t expected to see in his kitchen at this hour of the morning, but the expression on his face as the two men’s eyes met, it sent a wave of panic shooting through him.
“What’s happened?” Aaron asked, heading over to Quinn, her head still down as she stared at something on the table in front of her.
Harry didn’t reply, he just took a sip of coffee and watched as Aaron gently touched Quinn’s shoulder, and she flinched slightly, which tore at Aaron’s heart.
“Quinn? Talk to me, baby, come on…”
His eyes dropped to the tab
le as Quinn slowly slid the newspaper that was open in front of her toward him, and the headline hit him like a slap to the face, so Christ knows how she must’ve felt when she’d seen it.
“Jesus…” He sighed heavily, sitting down beside her, his eyes now on the TV. “Oh, Jesus, Quinn…”
“I guess you give them an inch and they dig for the dirt they really want.”
Her voice was tired, defeated, almost, and Aaron was lost. He didn’t know what to do, how to handle this one. And he glanced over at Harry again, the look they exchanged saying everything. This was the thing that could destroy it all. This was the thing that could destroy her.
“Nobody was supposed to know about him,” Quinn whispered, her eyes down on the table, her fingers nervously playing with the bracelet that hung loosely around her wrist. “Nobody.”
Aaron reached out and took her hand, and her fingers closed in around his but her gaze remained fixed on the table. “I thought Carter was supposed to be dealing with this.” Aaron directed that at Harry, even though his attention remained firmly on Quinn.
“I guess we were too late. Again,” Harry said, the sigh that came from him one of resignation and regret.
“Too late?” Aaron was finding it hard to keep his voice steady; to keep the anger out of it. “I thought Lukas said he hadn’t told Dawn about Noah?”
“We don’t know if this came from Dawn, Aaron. We don’t know where the hell it came from, but believe me, we’ll find out.”
Aaron just shook his head and squeezed Quinn’s hand a little tighter as he tried to gauge some kind of reaction from her. But it was like she’d just shut down, closed herself off to everything going on around her. And it was scary, the way she’d become almost robotic. And then she let go of his hand, pulling hers away from his as though it was burning hot, and Aaron watched as she looked down at the newspaper, cocking her head slightly as she appeared to read the article again.
Breathe Into Me Page 27