Perfect Pairing

by Rachel Spangler

  Quinn continued her deliberate progression up Hal’s arm. Remnants of amber sunlight lingered on fair skin as Quinn drew patterns only she could follow across Hal’s neck and into the hair at the base of her scalp. Her fingers swirled there, tangling them together in a precursor of things to come, things so much more than any physical touch could cover. They’d intertwined before, fingers and legs, and yet this coming together couldn’t have been predicted. Maybe this new connection couldn’t even be named, which made it all the sweeter to feel. The essence of their combined intentions settled in her chest, curling like a warm mist through her limbs.

  Hal kissed Quinn’s shoulder around the worn collar of her own T-shirt as she slipped her hand under its hem. She relished the way her fingers played slowly over the slender curve of her waist. She wanted to settle in that curve and camp there for days. She wanted to rest her head there, to sleep, to dream and awake again to its perfection.

  She drew a small circle with a light touch around the subtle indent between Quinn’s ribs and hip as she whispered, “I want to kiss you right here.”

  “We better go down below.”

  “Below that spot on your body, or below deck on the boat?”

  Quinn’s light laugh danced from her lips. “Yes.”

  Hal groaned against her skin before leaving that spot, then pushed herself up and reached for Quinn’s hand.

  “You’re so deliciously chivalrous. You know that?”

  Hal pulled her close again, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You like chivalry?”

  “I didn’t want to. I wanted to refuse your hand when you tried to help me out of the truck. Then that day at the food wholesaler when you put yourself between me and those roughnecks trying to check out my legs? God, you were just so damn protectively possessive. You could’ve kissed me right there. I would’ve melted for you,” she said. “I would’ve hated myself, but I would have melted.”

  “I’m sorry I was too recalcitrant to see what I had right in front of me, but if we’re being honest, you could’ve had me that first night at Larkin Square.”

  “No.” Quinn shook her head, then rested it on Hal’s shoulder. “You hated me.”

  “I wanted you. If you’d come for me instead of my name recognition, you could’ve had me.”

  “And what about now?” she asked, her voice low and close enough her lips brushed Hal’s neck when she spoke. “What can I have now?”

  Hal leaned back enough to meet her eyes. “Everything.”

  Quinn shuddered in her embrace and sighed as Hal pushed open the cabin door with her foot. “Your cabin, m’lady.”

  Quinn smiled and, taking her hand once more, pulled her through the low door, pausing only long enough for Hal to kick it shut before leading her toward the bed. Stopping just at the edge, Hal caught her and turned her around. Their mouths found each other again, easy, naturally, as if they were meant to be together every bit as much as they were built for breathing or speaking. Her hands went easily to Quinn’s hips once more. This time, though, they didn’t stay there. Running them up like a cellist drawing a bow across the arc of the strings, she played the beautiful instrument of Quinn’s body to its highest notes. Pushing her shirt up as she went, she skimmed her hands across Quinn’s ribs, over the swells of her breasts, and, breaking the kiss as little as possible, lifted the shirt over her head.

  Hal’s sharp intake of breath stemmed from the increased canvas of alabaster skin to caress, to explore, to paint with fingertips and lips. She wanted the whole of this breathtaking vista spread out beneath her. Easing Quinn back, she cradled her head in her hand as she lowered her body softly to the pillow. Quinn caught hold of Hal’s shirt as she settled onto the bed, then pulled it up the length of her torso before dropping it to the floor.

  “God, you’re so beautiful. It almost hurts to breathe when I look at you like this.”

  Quinn started to shake her head, but Hal stilled her with another kiss. There would be no room for denial tonight. This was about more than getting what they wanted in a moment. This was about acknowledging truths that went so much deeper than either of them could go on their own. She enjoyed every second of the kiss and the implicit acceptance of Quinn’s opening to her before she moved lower.

  Quinn’s fingernails played in her hair and across the bare skin of her back as she kissed down along the swell of her breasts, over the ridges of her ribcage, and down the open plane of her stomach to the only remaining barrier—her shorts. Hal had been here before, but familiarity did nothing to stem the rising tide of excitement tapping out a rapid rhythm with her heartbeat. Flipping open the button, she kissed the sweet, smooth skin below before lifting up to hook both hands into the khaki waistband.

  Sinking both feet into the mess of sheets, Quinn arched her hips up, allowing Hal to slip the shorts down her thighs, then along the length of her legs. With a little flourish, she tossed them aside but didn’t release her foot. She kissed the tip of her big toe, then down along the graceful arch of her foot before moving up along her ankle. Resting it up on her own shoulder, she started forward once more. She ran her lips like a feather across smooth calves and felt the muscles contract as she reached the bottom of Quinn’s thigh. She slowed her progress and lifted her eyes as Quinn began to twist with anticipation.

  Quinn bit her bottom lip, and Hal felt it as if those teeth had sunk into her own. She felt her desire as it built, passing between them, one and the same. She kissed the delicate skin again, inching closer to home, with her eyes still locked on the blues that beckoned her. Quinn pulled her in, lifting her hips off the bed and tightening the hold of her long leg across Hal’s back.

  Hal could smell her now, amber and wine, with a heavy undercurrent of desire. She could see the plea in her eyes, feel it curling up to her swollen lips. She would not make her say it tonight. She didn’t need her to. She would grant every request before it had a chance to be voiced. Lowering her head, she took Quinn and gave herself with everything she had in her.

  She’d thought she wanted all of this woman before, but suddenly she understood she’d only craved the surface of what she had to offer. Now she wanted more than sweat and skin. This desire went so much deeper than simple release. She wanted to feel Quinn move against her in the night, to taste her lips coated with coffee in the morning, to sit across from her at every meal, to know her fears and to be the one to soothe them. She wanted to be everything together that the world had denied them on their own.

  Quinn’s legs trembled and fell from Hal’s shoulders as her head sank deeply into the pillow. She didn’t need to see Hal. She felt her, and in more than just the amazing places she was currently touching her. This was more than a total body experience. She felt Hal all over her, filtering through her mind and encircling her heart. She would’ve thought a connection like this would dull her senses or detract from their raw physicality, but her breath came shallow and ragged, their emotional connection heightening the others.

  She sank her fingers into Hal’s thick, dark hair, massaging, holding, and still reaching for more. She needed her. She rose on the wave of sensations Hal stoked in her, like their boat on the incoming tide, and suddenly it was too much, too high. A strangled sob choked out her cry, and she could only clutch at Hal’s shoulder. Grasping her arm firmly, she pulled her up, reading the question she couldn’t answer in those dark eyes. She drew her along the length of her own body and arched up to meet her.

  “Hal,” she finally gasped, pressing on her back and feeling her instant compliance as the fullness of Hal’s weight settled against her, anchoring them to one another.

  “Yes,” Hal whispered hoarsely as she worked her hand between their bodies, “I’m right here.”

  And she was, right there, right where Quinn needed her to be. A sudden rush of gratitude overtook her, just the latest in a long stream of unexpected emotions Hal inspired. They moved against each other now, rocking, regaining their rhythm slowly, sensually as Hal pushed inside. Quinn gasped an
d dug her nails into the knot of muscles flexing across Hal’s back. It wasn’t enough. Need swelled in her again, but this time it would not overwhelm her or leave her helpless. Hal had met every need, even those left unspoken, and she would fill this one too.

  Taking hold of Hal’s hips, she pulled her forward, hard and close, forcing her deeper inside while giving her the chance to reach for the same kind of contact. Finding her voice, Quinn managed to rasp out, “I have to touch you . . . now.”

  Hal straddled her leg, using her thigh to maintain pressure on Quinn while opening herself to her. Quinn worked her hand between them, aching, searching, finding. They writhed, no longer paced or coordinated, but complete. Hot breath against sweat-soaked skin served only as physical evidence of internal needs being met and fulfilled, symptoms of a cure.

  “Hal, yes,” she cried out, “stay with me.”

  “I’m right here,” Hal whispered as her hips slid forward again, connecting them both. “Together.”

  “Yes,” Quinn said again as her muscles strained against the divine pressure coursing through them. “Together.”

  Hal shook as her back bent into a breathless arc. “Now?”

  The question provided its own answer, and Quinn caught Hal’s mouth once more as the waves of release shook through them both. They held tightly to one another, still secure as the world around them spun. The lights flashed and the sea rolled beneath them, but even in that moment, Quinn knew she was seeing more clearly and standing more securely than she ever had. And as the air returned and their bodies subdued, she felt nothing slipping away.

  “I said, ‘damn, what’s next?’” Quinn rolled along with Nate Dogg and Warren G as Cheesy Does It lumbered onto Interstate 90 just outside of Boston.

  “You have some mad rap skills,” Hal said, glancing over at her as she bounced in the sunlight streaming through the large windshield. She practically shimmered, a vision of gold and sapphire in one of Hal’s plain blue T-shirts, with her hair down and flowing across her shoulders.

  If not for the dull ache in her muscles, she would’ve wondered if last night had even happened. She’d had sex with other women. Some of them had even been beautiful, but none of them had ever grabbed hold of her heart the way Quinn had. None of them had seen all of her. None of them had even tried to capture the parts of her Quinn now held, and most importantly, none of them had ever stayed so wonderfully connected so long after the night had passed them by.

  They’d both been studiously sweet this morning. Quick kisses as they packed up their things. A little hug as they walked down Commercial Street one last time. A gentle squeeze of the hand as they got on the road, and small smiles stolen from focus that should’ve been spent on the traffic getting off the Cape. Neither one of them seemed ready to process the weighty subject of what had transpired between them, but neither were they quite ready to surrender to their inevitable reentry to the real world. More than two hours into the drive, they remained stubbornly playful—hence, the old-school hip-hop dance-party bass in the truck.

  “Who are you, and what have you done to the sexy banker with control issues?” Hal laughed.

  “You know? I tried to get ahold of her earlier, but I got an out-of-office message.”

  “Maybe she should extend her auto reply a little bit longer, or maybe indefinitely.”

  Quinn’s smile faltered and Hal immediately regretted the comment.

  “You know I would love that, right?”

  Hal nodded. “But?”

  “But I have a big meeting first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh? Important sexy banker stuff?” She tried to recapture the playful tone.

  “Something like that.” Quinn stared out the window, and the sinking feeling in Hal’s stomach told her not to pursue her line of questioning any further.

  The disconnect was jarring to both her mind and body after the closeness they’d cultivated over the last few days. Obviously she knew they wouldn’t always feel the way they had on the boat last night. Real life was bound to exact its toll, and Quinn had a right to her own space, both physically and emotionally. Whatever thought pulled her from their reverie was hers alone. And yet she felt the urge to push anyway. Not because she felt entitled to whatever had made Quinn pull back, but because she wanted to stop that retreat at any cost.

  “You can tell me, you know?”

  Quinn nodded.

  “You don’t have to. I just . . . I’m new to this whole wanting to be with someone, just one person, and I don’t know how it really works. Am I supposed to just let you do your thing and tell me what you want about your life, or am I supposed to ask you and risk offending you by being all up in your grill?”

  “You can ask.”

  “Okay, as long as you know you can tell me to buzz off.”

  “Deal.”

  “So . . .” Hal blew a strand of hair from her forehead. “What is this big, important meeting you have to get back for tomorrow?”

  “It’s with an investment team.”

  “I don’t really know what that means.”

  “It means . . .” She drew out the words slowly. “There are people who help me make decisions about good investments. Some of them are like research aids for the bank. Some of them are at my level or higher up, and they make sure I’m making good decisions.”

  “That does sound important. So, you guys have these meetings for all applications for loans and things?”

  “Not all of them. I called this one because I know I have a blind spot where my personal connections may compromise my judgment. And there’s a great deal at stake.”

  The hollow churning in Hal’s gut returned.

  “It’s not something that just came up, though. It’s been on my calendar for weeks. I actually . . . I called this particular meeting after I . . . I mean the pop-up had just happened.”

  “The pop-up didn’t just happen,” Hal reminded her.

  “Right, but what happened afterwards did, and it changed things on a lot of levels.”

  Hal snorted. “So you called a business meeting to talk to your colleagues about it?”

  “Actually, yes, but not how it sounds.”

  “I hope not,” Hal snapped, then quickly lowered her voice. “’Cause it sounds bad.”

  Quinn sighed. “You fired me, Hal. I had one of the most successful nights of my career, and then I got fired, or you quit, and at the time you seemed pretty clear on your intention to never see me again.”

  “I’m still unclear as to how any of those events warranted a meeting with your board of investors.”

  “Really? I’d just had the successful pop-up, generated tons of press, made a hefty sum of money to donate, and found an ideal location, only to be dumped by the most important part of the team.” Quinn lifted her eyebrow questioningly. “You never stopped to think about the questions that might raise for the people I work with?”

  “No.” She hadn’t given any thought to it at all. Maybe that line of thinking made sense to someone like Quinn, someone with a boss and investors, and a system to follow. But she didn’t answer to anyone, and she didn’t intend to. Which was one of the many reasons she’d blown her top that night. “You never mentioned—”

  “Of course not.” Frustration rose in Quinn’s voice. “When would I have mentioned anything, and honestly, would you have cared?”

  “I would’ve cared that you were talking about my personal business to other people.”

  “I’m sorry, but it wasn’t your business anymore. It was my business. You walked out, and I didn’t blame you, but can you blame me for looking for ways to move forward without you?”

  That last phrase lanced through her, a new understanding burning hot in its wake. “Move forward without me? This meeting tomorrow is to replace me?”

  Quinn shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “All right then.” She hated the way the words came out a little strangled. “You’re going to open a restaurant with someone else.”

  “It�
��s not my first choice, Hal. You know what I wanted, what I still want, but I’m trying to respect your autonomy, so I have to research different directions.”

  She did know that. She knew what Quinn had wanted, what she still wanted. Quinn had never lied or misled anyone about her desire to have Hal beside her in the restaurant venture, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow the fact that she was still replaceable. Interchangeable. Temporary.

  Quinn had wanted her so badly and come after her so hard. She’d seemed so certain she couldn’t open the restaurant she wanted with anyone else, and yet now she was doing exactly that. The move seemed like such a massive flip-flop, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the same held true about their personal relationship. Sure, Quinn wanted her now, but what if things got hard?

  No, not if. When things got hard, because they undoubtedly were about to. What would Quinn want then? Would she look at her, at them, as another investment to be managed? Would she want to trade up? Would she be willing to cut her losses and go in a different direction? Here today, but easily gone tomorrow? Such a sad, storied cliché of her life.

  “Hal, say the word and I’ll call off the meeting.”

  “What word?”

  “Say you want it to be you,” Quinn pleaded. “Tell me you’ll do this with me. Tell me you want a part in the future I’m building, and it’s yours.”

  “No it’s not,” she snapped, then lowered her tone. “It’s yours. Your restaurant, your future. I can have a bit part for as long as I continue to play the part you lay out for me, but it’ll never be mine.”