by Shae Scott
Probably. But the way I saw it, if Quinn could open herself up this week and be someone else and venture away from her norm, then so could I.
I spent part of my day writing. I should have been working on stuff for Parker, but instead I was writing about the girl I'd left this morning. I wrote about her hazel eyes and the soft waves of her caramel hair. I wrote about how her laugh sounded like tinkling bells when she was tipsy on wine and the way she sighed softly when I kissed her. She was so clear in my mind that I wanted to get it all down on paper. If she was only mine for a week, I wanted to remember her to perfection. I wanted to immortalize her in words, paint pictures of her with my imagery and know that whenever I wanted to go back and remember this week, I could do it in full vivid color.
Quinn Ryan was the kind of woman that classic novels were written for. Even the greats would have reached for pen and paper to try and capture all of her complexities.
By the time I was dressed to pick her up that night, I was more than ready to see her. I even swung by and got her flowers. I'd never gotten around to asking her what her favorite was, but Miles had helped me out and I was kind of excited to surprise her. No, I didn't recognize me either.
I knocked on the door and waited. And waited. I was starting to wonder if I'd been stood up when the door swung open and Quinn stood there looking flushed, but beautiful.
"Sorry. I was . . . running late," she stumbled. Shit. She was stunning. She was wearing a dress, green, with thin straps and a skirt that flared out just a touch, landing just above her knee. It was simple, but elegant. I stood, stunned for a moment, before finding my voice.
"You wore green," I smiled. She smiled shyly. I knew she'd worn it just for me and it made my dick throb in a way that I hoped wasn't immediately evident. But man, she did things to me. "I brought you these," I said handing over the bouquet of white tulips, held together with a simple ribbon.
I heard the small gasp and warmed at the smile that followed. "Tulips are my favorite," she mused as she took in the scent of the petals. "I love them. They never last long enough though, a week or two and then they’re gone until the next year," she said softly almost as if she were talking to herself. I couldn't help but notice the small frown that crossed her face, but it was gone when she met my eyes. "Thank you. They are perfect," she smiled.
I waited as she found a makeshift vase and filled it with water, setting the flowers on the nightstand next to the bed. Her words echoed back to me, they never last long enough.
I was starting to realize just how appropriate that was.
HOLY CRAP BALLS! The man was insanely gorgeous. No matter how many times I saw him it still surprised me. It took my breath away. It legit made me forget to take in oxygen at times. It was a bit ridiculous. He smiled, his lips quirking up like he knew exactly how he was affecting me. He was more than used to it. I wasn't the first, so I didn't feel a whole lot of shame about it. Honestly, I liked it. I liked the way he overtook the room and took up all the space, all of the air.
"You ready to go?" he asked, his voice low and sultry. That voice paired with that black button down and the steel gray tie that he wore, I was a goner.
"Okay,' I managed. He stepped forward and brushed the back of his knuckles across my cheek, brushing the hair away. My breath stuttered again as he leaned in to kiss me; his mouth brushing against mine, teasing me before finally connecting. His lips were soft and I couldn’t help but wonder how he kept them that way. His hands cradled my jaw, tucked against my neck as he took control of the kiss, taking it deeper, taking me under. I would let him kiss me anytime he wanted for as long as he wanted. The man taught me what it was like to truly melt. He set my insides on fire, liquefying me until I melted into him. He had real skills and my body wanted an up close and personal demonstration at every opportunity.
When he pulled back from me I tried to take control of the daydream look on my face, but I'm not sure that I succeeded. He kissed my nose and then my forehead. "You look stunning," he said.
"So do you,” I returned. Boy did he. I had to admit that I was pretty happy about having this sexpot on my arm tonight. I felt no shame in that confession. None at all.
The valet grabbed us a cab and Keaton helped me inside. He followed and rattled off an address to our driver. I melted into my seat when he placed his hand on my thigh. It rested there, at the hem of my dress, his fingers grazing my flesh and heating me up from the inside out. I shifted in my seat.
The last few days had only left me with a growing sense of anticipation and need. I kept telling myself that I should keep this casual, that kisses were one thing, but it would be smart to guard my heart by not sleeping with him. But right now, I wasn't giving my heart a second thought. Instead I was secretly wishing he would run his hand up my thigh, beneath the material until he reached the new silk panties I was wearing. I shook off the fantasy and blushed when I realized he was watching me intently. He could probably guess what I was thinking. In fact I was pretty sure of it, because his eyes had taken on a lusty haze and his tongue was running across his lower lip.
"Shit, Quinn, I don't know if I'm going to be able to make it through dinner if you keep looking at me like that," he said, his voice low and gravelly. It pulled at the want deep inside me, causing all kinds of havoc on my lady parts.
All day I'd been thinking about it. Imagining what would have happened if Miles hadn’t shown up this morning. He may have said he wouldn’t have taken things too far, but I was pretty sure he’d have taken me some place incredible. The thought made me blush more. Keaton moved and before I could take a breath he was pressed against me, his face inches from my own.
"I really want to take you to dinner. I want to show you the city," he said, his voice low and quiet so that the cabdriver couldn't hear. Not that it mattered, one glance in his rearview and he'd be getting a show. "But right now, if I'm being completely honest, seeing you in that dress, with that blush across your cheeks and that fire in your eyes, I'm more than willing to get on my knees and see what kind of sweet trouble I can find under that skirt."
I swallowed hard and shifted in my seat. I wasn't so sure he was bluffing. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing happened. He brushed a soft teasing kiss across my lips as his hand moved up my thigh, just as I'd imagined. I shifted, urging his touch higher, totally unashamed and oblivious to the fact that we were not alone. I felt his smile against me as he ran one finger across the damp fabric beneath my skirt. "You like that?" he whispered. I wanted more; the teasing was only ramping up every nerve inside my body.
"Sir, we're here," the strange voice from mere feet away said, throwing icy water on my reckless behavior. I quickly scooted away from Keaton, my cheeks on fire with embarrassment. He simply laughed and handed the driver some money.
"Come on, let's eat. We can finish the rest later." My eyes flicked to the mirror and the smirking face of the driver. He probably saw stuff like this all the time.
Keaton took my hand and helped me to my feet. "You look really sexy when your cheeks are that pink."
"Stop. Take me inside," I said, shaking my head. Who was I? What was he doing to me? And why didn't I seem to care that I would have been perfectly okay with having an orgasm in the back of a cab?
"Quit thinking," he said softly, kissing my cheek and taking my hand.
The restaurant was fancy. Really fancy. The kind of fancy that made me afraid to touch the place settings or use my forks out of order. I glanced around the opulent room and willed myself to sit up straighter so that I might look like I belonged.
The waiter came to our table accompanied by another server who started filling glasses with champagne. I glanced at Keaton who simply gave me a warm smile in return. Apparently there were places where the bubbly flowed like tap water.
Keaton ordered a bottle of something and we were left alone with our menus. I was afraid to even look. This place was giving me hives.
"You look lost," he smiled.
"I'm afraid I'm goi
ng to spill my champagne or break something," I admitted quietly. I was afraid to raise my voice much above a whisper. He reached over and took my hand into his and I felt calmer instantly.
"I could knock my glass over if it would make you feel better," he offered.
"That's so sweet," I laughed quietly.
"I know it's a little much, but I wanted to take you someplace nice," he admitted. I was touched. I loved that he'd thought to do something nice. I liked that he wanted to impress me, even if it was unnecessary.
"So what do I get here?" I asked glancing at the menu.
"I don't know. I've never been here," he admitted.
I glanced up in surprise. I had just assumed that this was a favorite place of his. He shrugged at my questioning look, "It was listed as the best 5 star restaurant in the city. I wanted tonight to be special," he said.
I melted. Again. I watched as he lowered his head as if the admission almost made him shy. Just one more thing about him that surprised me and made me like him more.
The waiter joined us at the table again to ask us about our order. I glanced from him to Keaton in a panic, until Keaton asked him about the specials. He looked to me for confirmation and I nodded, letting him choose. I didn't care what food came to the table. The company was worth it all.
If life were a romantic comedy this night would be a montage of perfectly placed sappy scenes set to some upbeat, cheesy pop song. It would come complete with embraces on trolley cars, hand holding in Golden Gate Park and sundae's at Ghirardelli Chocolate, where I got my ice cream sans chocolate and didn't care one bit.
If we were stuck in that scene you'd probably see me gazing at a man who was stealing my heart without me even knowing it. It would all be there, the sweet, flowery buildup that makes your heart flutter. There would be the sweet comfort of perfection. You can hear the music, right?
The problem comes in knowing that the music will eventually stop. The scene will end. I've seen enough of these modern fairytales to know what happens when the music stops.
But tonight none of that mattered. The ticking clock was silenced and all that mattered was this moment, this night, this feeling that had me hearing the notes in a whole new way. I was okay with the cheesy bubble; I was even okay knowing that eventually the whole thing would fade to black.
I went back to his room. I didn't question it. The entire night had carried an electricity with it that I couldn’t deny. Every touch, every kiss had pushed us closer to the brink. I wanted him. He knew it. We were both on the same page. The part I feared were the emotions that I had started to attach to everything. I felt it happening. I was falling for him in slow motion—with a whisper, on a ghost of a touch, in a fragment of time. It was as if we existed only in that moment as the camera flashed. There was a good chance that what felt right tonight would break me tomorrow. I knew it, but I moved forward anyway.
He moved towards me with purpose. The entire night had led to the promise of this moment. My body hummed with anticipation and nerves, the questions hovering just below the surface, my safety net of logic warning me to be careful. But I didn't want to be careful. I didn't want to walk away from this night and never know what it felt like to be with him.
When he stood in front of me I saw a lot of the same emotions reflected back at me. Only he was in complete control of his. His hands moved slowly down my arms with the lightest of touches, bringing a shiver to the surface. The contradiction of the quiver that moved through me and the heat that seemed to warm the surface of my skin was a heady mix and as I breathed him in I felt myself losing all of my reasoning. When he was close like this, I just wanted to abandon all of the logic.
A sigh fell from my lips as his hands moved up to my face and he ran his fingers across my cheeks. I looked up into his eyes and the look that waited for me nearly made my knees buckle beneath me. I'd grown to know that look, he was going to kiss me and I'd be under his spell in an instant. The things he could do with a kiss and the promise of what else he could do to my body had me feeling weak. It had me changing my mind about so many things. It had me forgetting my mind all together. When I was with him like this I didn't think about anything. I only felt.
"Stay with me, Quinn. Stay with me tonight." His voice was rough as his lips grazed my jaw. When his mouth found mine I sunk into him willingly. I loved the way he took control of the kiss, of me, allowing me to simply become a part of the moment, a part of him. His tongue slipped past my lips and began a seductive dance with my own. His hands fisted in my hair, pulling me to him, demanding that I give him my full attention. He needn't have worried; I was already completely focused on him.
"I want you to stay. I want to be with you. I want you in my bed. I want to spend the rest of this night attending to your every desire. Let me take care of you, Quinn. Stay."
I sighed, unable to find my voice, unable to find any words at all. So I simply kissed him again. I wanted to stay. I had imagined it, craved it. I could tell myself that it wasn't a good idea, I could fight it, but I didn't feel like fighting anymore.
"Quinn," he groaned, his mouth sliding down my throat.
"I, this isn't like me.” My voice was a whisper of breath, an attempt at logical, even though I’d already made up my mind.
He grabbed my face, his eyes locked onto my own, “It’s not like me either. Not at all. Nothing about this is like me. But I know I want you to stay. I know that whatever kind of borrowed time we are living in this week I want to live in it with you, completely. This isn’t about a one night stand, Quinn. It’s about –.” He seemed to search for the right words, but fumbled. My heart was pounding against my chest. And somehow in this moment, while he stood before me talking about stolen moments it felt so easy to trust him with something new. It felt so easy to fall into him and not question it at all.
“Okay,” I said softly.
I watched as the sexy smile took his expression from earnest to deadly in a heartbeat. I swallowed hard, knowing that I’d just granted him permission to unleash his every weapon on me.
“Okay?” he asked.
“I’ll stay,” I said. I hoped he couldn’t hear the slight shake in my voice, part nerves, part needy anticipation.
His hands, still on my face slid down so that they were at my neck, “You’re going to stay,” he said, a slight smile on his lips. His voice was low as his eyes drifted over my face. The heat on my skin left raised gooseflesh as electric currents hummed across my flesh, just from the intensity of his gaze. It was as if he were going through a mental checklist of everything he had planned to do to me.
He looked at me for a long moment, and I was nearly ready to beg him to kiss me. “Give me a minute. I can’t quite decide what to do with you first,” he admitted quietly.
I whimpered. I'd never actually had that happen to me before, but it wasn't something I could control. My body was surrendering to him. I reached for him, running my hands across his chest, taking in the way his body flexed beneath my touch. I pulled at his shirt, releasing it from the slim waist of his pants, then moving to the buttons. I could feel his heated gaze on my face as I took my time unhooking each one from its hold. I felt the nervous anticipation coursing through my veins, but I kept going. I pushed the fabric from his shoulders and then ran my hands beneath the t-shirt that remained. His skin was hot, smooth and rigid. I met his eyes silently conceding any doubts that I had about this moment, this night. I wanted him and I was giving myself permission to have him.
I watched as he pulled the shirt over his head, in that way that guys do in the movies, one sexy, seamless pull and I was greeted with sculpted perfection. I'd seen him shirtless last night, but I'd been clouded with alcohol. Now he was here, in vivid detail and I couldn't help but reach out to touch him.
A low growl escaped him as I pressed a kiss to his bare chest. I wanted him pressed against me. He turned me then, so that my back was against him. He ran his hands down my bare arms, leaving raised flesh in their wake. I felt his hot breath ag
ainst my neck, at my ear. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you. But now, I want you more than anything ever before. I can't wait to be inside you. To feel you wrapped around me," he breathed. His hand moved to my back, releasing the zipper of my dress slowly, a torturous tease. My breathing came out staccato as all of the sensations hit me at once.
The dress pooled at my feet and I stepped out. Keaton turned me back to face him and his eyes reflected back the same desire that was roaring though my blood, pounding in my ears, pooling in my belly. I watched as he took inventory of my body, his gaze sliding along every inch of me. He took a step forward, his hands resting at my neck as he began to glide them across my heated skin. His fingers dipped below my bra strap as he slid it down my shoulder. I shivered as he kissed my now bare skin. He repeated the process on the other side. Then his mouth moved to the swell of my breasts and I nearly buckled at the sensation of his mouth against my flesh. His hand drifted to my back where he quickly unhooked the bra. I was grateful as the strain against the fabric had been too much. Now that my breasts were free he captured one nipple in his mouth, sliding his tongue across my hardened peak. I gripped his shoulders to keep from falling, He moved with practiced precision, each flick of his tongue, each nip of his teeth seemingly tied to my core. When he looked back to me I was certain he could see that I was clearly and completely intoxicated by him. I saw the slight smile tug at the corner of his lips as he gave me a little nod towards his room.
“Just in case Miles decides to come home. I told him to be scarce, but I’d hate to give him a show or have to kill him later should he decide not to listen,” he said gruffly. It was only then that I realized I was standing nearly naked in the living area of his suite. I smiled up at him as he took my hand and led me towards the other room.