On Paper

by Shae Scott

  "Let's go," I said my voice gruff and thick. She looked at me surprised, but I simply took her hand and pulled her down the busy corridor.

  "Where are we going?" she asked, walking double time to keep up with me.

  I didn't answer her until we’d reached my destination. I stopped and smiled down at her when she bumped into me.

  "What?" she asked, still confused, still adorably sexy.

  "Inside," I said.

  Her eyes squinted, "Inside what?"

  "Inside where. Family bathroom. Let's go."

  Her eyes widened. "You’re serious?" she asked.

  I opened the door to the small bathroom meant to give families and nursing mothers some privacy. It might be a dick move to push my girlfriend inside, but ask me how many fucks I gave.

  I gave her a push and then followed her inside, locking the door behind us. She stood against the wall and gave me a shy, but amused smile. "Now what?" she asked. I took a step towards her, closing the space that separated us. I braced a hand on either side of her head, against the cold cement bricks of the wall.

  "Now I do what I needed to do out there," I said. I leaned into her further and kissed her. I started slow then moved so my body was pressed against hers, her back against the wall with no space to escape.

  Her hands wrapped around my neck, her fingers tugging at my hair. The sensation sent a jolt straight to my dick, which was already throbbing against my jeans.

  "Don't go. Stay here with me," I tried again.

  "Okay," she said against my lips, encouraging me to go deeper, I had a feeling she'd agree to anything right now.

  "I need to touch you," I said as I ran my tongue across her throat. She sighed and I felt the shiver that ran through her body at the promise of my words. I loved the way she responded to me. It was sexy as hell. It made me want to find every single thing that would bring her to her knees. I wanted to learn every part of her body and know exactly what would make her crumble beneath me. I wanted to hear my name on her lips; I wanted to erase her thoughts, replacing them only with me and the things that I could do to her. I wanted to own her, devour her, make her beg me for more only to then beg me for mercy.

  I continued to kiss her, long and deep as my hands moved to the button on her jeans. I slid my hand down past the lace of her panties to where her hot core begged to be touched. I ran my fingers along the sensitive skin, smiling when she pressed into my hand, searching for what she wanted.

  I didn't make her wait. I needed to feel her just as much. I pushed a finger inside her wetness leaning in as she moved against me, looking for more. She sighed appreciatively as I worked her body with my digits, adding a second to my assault. “That’s it, baby, take what you need,” I leaned in kissing her throat, rubbing my thumb against her clit. It didn’t take her long, and she bit into my shoulder as she cried out. I smiled, feeling her pulsing around my fingers.

  “Don’t go. Stay with me,” I said softy.

  “Okay,” she breathed heavily against me.

  I kissed her, totally taken by the dazed look in her eyes, I moved to put her clothes back in place when her hands stopped me and she gave me a slight shake of her head. Her hand moved to my belt and she tugged me to her.

  “You’re not finished,” she said, her fingers moving to unbuckle the belt and unfasten the button of my jeans. My dick turned to steel, throbbing painfully.

  “Quinn,” I warned.

  “You wanted to come in here, Keaton. You started it. Finish it.” She held my gaze, confident and demanding. I swallowed hard, this side of Quinn was new.

  “I’m not fucking you in an airport bathroom,” I said. I tried to mean it, but I was already reaching for her. She gave me a satisfied smile, knowing she had me exactly where she wanted me.

  “Shut up and take off your pants,” she smiled.

  And she said I was trouble.

  LONG DISTANCE SUCKS. It feels like life exists in snapshots of time. Time together. Time apart. Phone calls. Facetime. There is a lot of space to fill. It wasn’t always the easiest thing, but we were managing. Each phone call moved us forward, and hopefully closer to the day I would move to New York. I couldn’t wait until we didn’t have to deal with the distance anymore. Until then we were a series of conversations and stolen moments together.

  "I MISS YOU." Keaton’s voice carried the hint of a pout that I found more than endearing.

  "I miss you," I returned. I really did.

  "Come to Orlando," he asked for the twentieth time in two weeks.

  "Keaton," I warned. He was relentless.

  I heard the sigh and the slight huff across the phone line. It made me smile.

  "Just come," he said softly. "I'll make it worth your while." There was a promise in his tone and I had no doubt that he would follow through.

  "I know you would," I agreed.

  "Then why do you keep saying no?" he asked.

  One thing I'd learned about Keaton already was that he was a man who was used to getting exactly what he wanted. Apparently I was trying his patience.

  "I have a job," I started.

  "One that doesn't even pay you," he pointed out.

  "One that will get me to New York," I countered.

  He sighed again, "I miss you."

  I couldn't hide my smile.

  "I'm not used to missing someone. It sucks," he said.

  "I'll be there in a week and you can spend the entire time not missing me."

  "Trust me, I plan on taking advantage of every moment you are here."

  "Good. Because I'm going to want to be taken advantage of."

  "HOW WAS YOUR day?" I asked.

  "It sucked. How was yours?" He sounded distant and highly irritable. I had learned that moods like this needed to be navigated with caution.

  "Want to talk about it?" I asked.

  "Not really," he said. I heard the pop of a top and imagined him leaned against the kitchen counter with a bottle of beer.

  I waited, not saying anything. If I knew him like I thought I did he would take two swallows of his drink and he'd start talking again.

  "I am at a total standstill today. I deleted two chapters. It's all shit. I have no idea where this book is going and I have to have stuff to Parker next week. I have nothing," he vented.

  "What about your outline?" I asked. Keaton had entire notebooks of notes and plans for each of his books.

  "The outline is shit. I need a new plan. But there's nothing. I'm completely void of any creativity," he moaned.

  Writing woes weren't anything I could help him with. I didn't have any ideas that would help him find his direction, but I had learned to make a great sounding board.

  "Why don't we talk it out?" I suggested.

  "Eh," he grumbled.

  "Tell me where you're hung up, what's happening?" I pushed.

  After a long pause he finally started in on the plot, rambling about pieces of the story. I added in encouragement or questions where I could, but this was really about him talking it out for himself.

  I settled in against the pillows of my bed and listened. Just the sound of his voice was sexy. It was seduction all on its own. Even the most mundane of conversations had me feeling butterflies. He sparked something in me. I was more than happy to listen to him go on for hours.

  "YOU LEFT YOUR toothbrush here," Keaton said. It was late. I'd been out with Lily catching up on some much needed girl time.

  "I know," I yawned as I crawled under my covers.

  "So you did that on purpose?” he asked.

  "Yep. I also left some perfume, a hairbrush and some shampoo," I said.

  "You moving in?" he teased.

  "Don't want you to forget me when I'm not around," I smiled.

  "Not likely."

  "Good, saves me from having to leave my hair dryer behind next time," I laughed.

  "I kind of like having your stuff around," he said quietly. It gave me goose bumps. He always used that quiet voice when whatever he said surprised him. />
  I didn't comment, afraid his admission would spook him. He was a recovering playboy after all. Pink toothbrushes and girlie shampoo weren't the norm.

  Still the comment made my heart flutter.

  LONG DISTANCE SUCKED. It made my balls blue and my temper short. It should be the perfect solution. I didn't have to worry about entertaining Quinn every day and I had tons of down time to do whatever the hell I wanted.

  But I wanted her. I wanted her hot little body beneath mine. I wanted more than a stupid phone call each night.

  Yeah, it fucking sucked. I wasn't always the most patient man and there were times when I questioned my sanity when it came to starting this whole thing.

  But then I thought about her. I imagined her smile or heard her breathy voice on the other end of the line and I didn't care anymore. There was something about her that made me want to do it all over again.

  I WATCHED HER sleep, the curve of her bare hip, the dip of her waist. The way the sheets clung to her thigh was the best thing to wake up to. Watching her like this, peaceful in slumber she looked like an angel. I was completely hooked.

  I've always been a go getter. I go after what I want and I get it. I wanted Quinn and I'd pushed my way back into her life until she let me stay. Now, she was in my bed looking like a fucking goddess.

  Now that I had her, now that she was here, I had no idea what I was supposed to do next.

  I was falling under her spell, more every day. Falling and flailing. Falling because it was effortless, flailing because I knew there would come a time when I would fail at being enough.

  She left me feeling dazed. I’ve never known how to be a boyfriend. The only thing I had going for me was that she seemed to be happy. I didn't know what I was doing right, but I hoped I could keep doing it.

  "LET'S GO OUT to a club or something," Miles said. He was pacing the floor, bored and anxious. We'd been at the signing table most of the day and I was exhausted. I wanted to go upstairs, take a shower, drink a beer, and call Quinn.

  "Dude, I'm tired," I said

  "You're tired? Dude what's wrong with you? You are so whipped. I never thought I'd see the day that Keaton Harris would turn down a night out to call his girlfriend." Miles was always giving me shit about Quinn, but it was all in good fun. Honestly, I think he liked seeing me in a grown up relationship.

  "Shut it, asshole," I warned.

  "Hitting a little too close to home, loverboy?" he pushed.

  "You afraid you can't pick up the ladies on your own?" I pushed back.

  "Right. Like you even have any game left. All you've done is mope around cause she didn't come with you," he pointed out. I thought about that for a second. I had been irritable. I’d begged her to meet me here this weekend, but she’d had some meeting she couldn’t miss. So it was just me and Miles. I wasn't having much fun either and I always had fun. Had I really become that guy who couldn't go out and have a good time without his girl around? Had I become that pathetic?

  Miles must have seen the panicked look on my face because he started to back track. Truth is he liked Quinn a lot. "I'm jerking your chain," he said.

  No, he was right. This was the problem with relationships. You lose yourself. You give up who you were to be a we. Once you become the we you remain a solid we forever. Shit, I'd become a we.

  Just because I was with Quinn didn't mean I had to shut myself up in my hotel room. I didn't have to stop having fun because she wasn't around.

  "Let's go out," I said, feeling energized at my revelation.

  You're sure about this? Do you want to call and check in first?" he teased. I hated my brother.

  "I'm a grown man. I don’t have to check in with anyone. Let's go."

  Miles chuckled, "Whatever you say, boss."

  WHEN TWO PEOPLE decide to start living outside of their comfort zones there are bound to be hiccups. Pair that with trying to do it all with thousands of miles between you and it can be even more complicated. I liked to think that we were navigating our way through it pretty nicely.

  I was learning his quirks and he was learning mine. I knew when he got moody and quiet that it was best not to push. He knew when I got moody and quiet he needed to do the opposite. It was all about learning to find the balance and taking the time to learn each other. I was learning to jump and he was learning to hold on. We were opposite ends of the spectrum trying to work our way to middle ground.

  It was worth it.

  The way he made me feel made it all worth it.

  It was new and exciting.

  It was also fragile.

  A lesson I learned when I glanced at my phone one morning. Keaton was at a big book signing in Vancouver. He'd wanted me to meet him there. He'd begged me and then turned quiet and irritable when I'd refused. He didn't get it, I had my internship and that internship was getting me closer to New York. Closer to him. Maybe he did get it, but he didn't care. When I told him no, he hadn't spoken to me for 24 hours.

  But in the end he'd settled down. I had a trip planned, one that included an interview for a real job in New York. It was a huge deal. And we’d both agreed that was the ultimate goal.

  Then I saw the photo.

  I’ve never been a jealous person. At least I’d never been a jealous person before Keaton. It didn't bother me to see him posing with girls or having a good time. It only made me sad not to be there with him. I hated missing it, but it didn't make me worry about us. Even knowing his past, I felt confident in where we were now.

  Until I woke up and saw the photo of him in a hotel bar, a line of shot glasses on the table in front of him and a scantily clad brunette sitting in his lap.

  I’d stared at it, a mix of emotions coursing through me. Even if it wasn't what it looked like, even if it was innocent and there was a perfectly good reason for his face being pressed into her chest, it still made me feel a rush of hurt and anger.

  He hadn't called the night before and now I guess I knew why.

  I glanced over at the clock; it was early, just after eight. It was even earlier in Vancouver. I should let it go for now. I should cool off before I called him.

  I was never good with waiting.

  I pulled up the photo with the list of comments underneath, saved the link and then texted it to him. I didn't need to add anything. If he knew anything about me, he'd know exactly what I was saying.

  I STARED DOWN at my phone and saw the text from Quinn. It was a link to the story that Miles had shown me earlier. Sometimes I really hated the internet.

  Last night had been a bad idea. I realized that now. I should have just stayed upstairs like I'd planned.

  I blamed Miles. Miles and his stupid fucking mouth.

  We'd been having fun and drinking, it had been completely innocent. I hadn't given any thought to the girls that were hanging out at our table, not at all. I hadn’t given any thought to the amount of tequila I had consumed either. It had been a long lonely weekend and I had been missing Quinn. So I was drowning my sorrows because she wasn’t with me.

  Honest. That's what happened.

  But the picture and the caption that some random Instagrammer had tagged me in seemed to show a whole different side to things. Even I could look at the picture, as she hugged me to her, pushing my face against her boobs, and know it looked shady. The fact that I was laughing my ass off like a drunken asshole didn't really make it any better.

  Yeah, last night had been a bad idea. It had been just like any other night after a long weekend. And that was the problem. It was just like any other night . . . girls, tequila and watching the sun come up. Granted I hadn't taken anyone upstairs with me or done anything with anyone, hadn't even thought about it, but the evidence didn't show that.

  Quinn didn’t know that.

  All she had was a photograph and my bad reputation.

  I stared at the unanswered text with a stomach full of stones. I needed to explain it to her, but I feared my words would just come out empty.

  "What's wrong with y
ou?" Miles asked as he shuffled into the room and fell onto the couch.

  "Quinn is asking me about those pictures and I don't know what to say," I admitted.

  "Is she pissed?"

  I shrugged, "Probably. She hasn't really said anything. She just sent me the link. She probably wants me to hang myself by speaking first," I groaned. This would be a fight. I couldn't blame her for being angry really, but my head was pounding and I just wasn't in the mood to deal with it yet. Maybe it was the guilt. Maybe it was my tried and true reputation digging its feet in and refusing to answer to anybody.

  Whatever it was, it was leaving me irritated. I grumbled and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and shuffled back to my room.

  I needed to text her. No, I needed to call her. I needed to man up and face it. Shit, I didn't want to deal with it. Not yet anyway. I downed the bottle of water, but it did nothing to hydrate me. I hadn't been that drunk in a long time. I was getting too old for this shit. I lay back down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. At least it wasn't spinning anymore.

  I hadn't done anything with those girls. I hadn't wanted anyone else since Quinn had come along. But shit if she was going to believe any of that. It wouldn't matter what I said. I'd let her down and she was going to let me know about it. I felt myself bracing for the fight, dread filling me.

  I should just get it over with. Face the music, pay the piper. I groaned, sat up against the headboard and grabbed my laptop. Might as well do this face-to-face. Maybe if she saw my face, she'd be more willing to believe me.

  I opened up Skype, hitting connect next to the picture of her pretty face and holding my breath as I waited for her face to pop up on my screen. When she came into view the knots in my stomach began to twist and I started to rethink my decision to have this conversation so soon after waking up. I wasn't in the mood for this fight. I wasn't in the mood to explain myself or listen to her tell me what I fuck up I was. I already knew all that and my head was pounding.