by Jewel E. Ann
“You’re such a contradiction. You want to know everything yet share nothing.”
I bit my thumbnail between my front teeth contemplating my next move, and I even surprised myself with what came out of my mouth. “Fine, before you take me back to my hotel you get to ask me one question, fair?”
He laughed. “Not hardly, but I’ll take it.”
He placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his steepled fingers. While he contemplated in silence, my nerves were on edge to the point of fidgeting with my cup, the place mat, a loose string on my jeans—anything to hide my level of discomfort. Most likely he was going to ask me about something in my past. I had mastered the art of vagueness, so I hoped I would easily come up with an honest answer that didn’t expose too much.
“Will you stay the rest of the weekend with me?”
I looked at him with disbelief. “Are you kidding me? I give you free rein to ask me anything and you choose to ask me to spend the rest of the weekend with you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why what? Why do I want you to spend the rest of the weekend with me?”
“No, why did you choose that question?” I asked, obviously confused.
He stood and grabbed my hands pulling me up to him. His arms were around my waist resting on my butt, my hands on his chest.
“Because it’s the only question that matters to me right now.”
There was that word in my head again. Unexpected. I pulled his mouth to mine and allowed myself to get lost in the moment. Did he have any clue what he was doing to me?
The less he asked for, the more I wanted to give to him.
*
Quinn got his answer twice, once on the granite counter in the kitchen and once halfway up the stairs. We headed out in the snow in a black Range Rover. He looked like a kid on Christmas four-wheeling his way around. We went to my hotel first to get my things and check out. He insisted on paying my bill so I indulged him. We still hadn’t addressed my million dollar sailboat, and I wondered if he thought I came into a bit of money at some point and blew it all on a yacht. For him, that would explain my “dinky loft and mismatched furniture” or my “ten-year-old car.” Maybe over the years women had come to expect him to foot the bill for everything and he assumed we were all alike. Regardless, I let him take care of me because it was a soothing stroke to his rich, dominant, male ego and money never mattered to me.
I promised Mac I’d do some holiday shopping, so after checking out of my hotel we made our way to the shopping districts. Quinn suggested Madison Avenue. I had no doubt that he was a regular at Barneys, but it wasn’t where I wanted to shop. He assured me he would pay for everything. Although I let him foot the bill for my hotel, he wasn’t going to buy Christmas presents for my friends. Then he suggested Fifth Avenue & 57th Street, but I assured him it was too early for us to browse Tiffany & Co. Luckily he knew I was being facetious, especially after my long speech on blood diamonds. TMI? Probably.
Much to Quinn’s displeasure, we ended up in Chinatown among what Quinn referred to as “junk.” I promised him I’d find some “ethically sourced” diamonds in the rough and I did. In an attempt to put a smile back on his face, I let him buy me a nice tea set and little Buddha statue. He did smile but it was accompanied with a roll of his eyes, so I don’t think it was genuine.
“After I drink my tea I like to meditate. It opens all my senses and is a great segue to Tantric sex.”
His arm was around me while we walked, but he stopped to look at me. I stood on my tiptoes and brushed my lips against his then nuzzled our cold noses together before giving him a suggestive raise of my eyebrows.
“In that case, best purchase we made all day.” He grabbed my ass and squeezed it as he led us back to the vehicle.
“We should stop and get some groceries since the cupboards are bare,” I suggested.
“We’re not going back to my mom’s. We’re going to my place.”
“Oh, did your friend leave?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
I nodded in acknowledgment.
*
The snowstorm was in full force on our way back to Quinn’s. Travel was not recommended for the rest of the evening and into Sunday. We pulled into his secured underground parking garage and then took the elevator up. He set down my suitcase to fish his keys out of his pocket. Once we entered and the door closed, I stopped to take in the elaborate surroundings. This place was Quinn, I thought. Double height ceilings were supported on three sides by oversized floor to ceiling glass paneled windows, which overlooked the city and was surrounded by a huge private terrace. The custom designed staircase had marble treads and a glass railing. The kitchen was a mix of brushed and polished nickel cabinetry with white marble slab counters. The flooring was a sea of wide solid oak planks custom stained in ebony. The place screamed money and bachelor.
We heard a noise coming from upstairs. Quinn held his hand in front of me.
“Wait here.” His voice depicted a sense of anger more than alarm.
“Is someone here?”
He didn’t answer as he took the stairs two at a time. A few moments later I heard the shouting of a woman’s voice followed by the clicking of heels on hard surface coming to a halt at the top of the stairs. Olivia. As soon as she zeroed in on me she came down in a flash, Quinn hot on her heels. He was carrying what appeared to be an overnight bag and headed straight past her to the door, not chancing a glance at me. He opened the door and tossed the bag into the hall.
“Out, Olivia,” he growled.
She wasn’t looking at him, she was looking at me. “I didn’t know you were bringing your whores to your house Quinn.” Her eyes then fell to the shopping bags by my feet and she let out a spiteful laugh. “A bargain-basement whore at that, from the looks of it.”
“Get the fuck out now!” Quinn yelled.
She walked past me smirking before she stopped and traced her finger down his chest.
“Call me when you’re done with her.”
He wasted no time slamming the door on her. Standing frozen next to me and looking at the ground, his only movement was the twitching of his jaw muscles. I crossed my arms over my chest and walked to the window. The blizzard conditions made it impossible to see what I knew had to be a spectacular view of the city. Not that I cared, but I wondered how Olivia would get to wherever she was going since catching a cab was not an option. Then I thought maybe she had a car in the parking garage. All I knew for sure was I wanted to be anywhere but there with Quinn. Even if I’d found a hotel, I had no way of getting there. It was just me and Quinn for the night, separated by an ocean of garbage between us.
I heard Quinn walking up the stairs. When I could no longer hear him I looked back at the door. All my bags were gone. A few minutes later the sound of his shoes hitting the marble stair treads signaled his return. The lighting allowed me to see his reflection in the window. He walked straight to the kitchen and grabbed a glass bottled water out of the refrigerator. After taking a long pull he sat down in a grey leather chair with a nickel-plated steel frame.
“Olivia was your ‘friend’ staying here?”
There was a long pause.
“Yes.”
I nodded. “Does she live here, in New York?”
“Yes.”
“Does she stay here often?”
He set his water down on the end table then rested his elbows on his knees and ran his hands through his hair. His shoulders sagged in defeat.
“Sometimes … yes.”
With every question I asked, it felt like I was running a blade deeper into my skin, or possibly my heart. Quinn may have been the knife, but I was the one holding it. I was the one asking the questions. He didn’t want to hurt me. I was hurting myself. I was self-destructing right in front of him and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Did she stay here the night I saw you at the resta
urant?”
“Yes.” It was a whisper, but I still heard him.
As I looked at his reflection in the window, I saw him look up and meet mine. I knew he saw the few errant tears that fought their way out and were streaking down my cheeks.
“What is she to you?” I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat.
He thought for a moment. “A distraction.”
“A distraction from what?”
“You.”
His last word pushed the knife the rest of the way in, leaving me there to bleed out. I turned and walked to the stairs pausing at the bottom when I heard his voice.
“Your bags are in the guest room, up the stairs to the right,” He sounded as defeated as he looked.
Without acknowledging him, I continued up the stairs. As soon as I shut the door to the bedroom I heard a loud roar, “FUCK!” followed by the shattering of glass.
Leaning against the door, I slid myself down to the floor before shattering into pieces as well.
*
“Addy, where are you going? Jesus, this has got to stop! I told you I’d take care of everything and I did. You’ve got to get it together and move forward, not run away. This is bullshit. There’s no way I’m letting you leave me. Addy!”
*
At a time unbeknownst to me, the mercy of sleep wrapped its arms around me. I woke up in a fetal position on the floor next to the door around four in the morning. My eyes were swollen and my head throbbed. Every muscle in my body was achingly stiff from lying on the floor. I practically had to crawl to the bathroom. After turning on the shower, I stripped out of my clothes as steam started to cloud the room. I eased into the shower and let the water cascade down my body, and it felt so good. Despite the surreal memories of the past twenty-four hours bouncing around in my head, my thoughts drifted to Quinn and his whereabouts. It pained me to think that he’d left and was somewhere else with someone else. Maybe a woman who could give herself to him in a way I couldn’t. Quinn probably blamed himself, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I’d offered him my body and nothing more.
Did he want more? Did I?
After a long shower, I put on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder. Then I tiptoed downstairs. The clock in the kitchen read 5:15 a.m. It was still dark outside but I could see the snow blowing in the glow of the city lights. The large windows gave the illusion I was in a snow globe. I flipped a switch that turned on a floor lamp illuminating a trail of shattered glass. Instinctively, I randomly started opening doors around the kitchen until I found a pantry with a broom and dust pan hanging from the wall. I slipped on my boots that were by the door to protect my feet and started sweeping up the shards of glass.
“Leave it.” Quinn’s deep raspy voice made me flinch. Ignoring him, I continued to sweep.
“I. Said. Leave. It.” He sounded angry and it caused what few unshed tears I had left to surface.
I dropped the broom and dust pan but didn’t stand up. Hugging my knees to my chest, I fought to keep from sobbing. I didn’t want him to see how broken I was. Please go back upstairs. Just turn around and leave me with the shattered glass. Please, I just don’t want you to see me, not like this … A sob escaped at the same time two strong arms lifted me. He cradled me to his bare chest and kissed the top of my head, breathing me in. Then he carried me up the stairs to the guest room, set me down on the bed, pulled off my boots, and crawled in behind me. As he pulled the covers over us and held my shaking body to his, I relentlessly sobbed. Eventually my body stilled and I surrendered to sleep, wrapped in Quinn.
Several hours later I opened my eyes. Neither one of us had moved. The warmth of Quinn’s breath caressed my back, but I wasn’t sure if he was awake.
“My parents gave me The Sage for my twenty-third birthday. I was advanced in school and I’d just started working toward my PhD in Ecology and Evolution. Their dreams for me were so big it crushed them when I graduated from high school and declared I wasn’t going to college. I had my own dreams and they didn’t require a college degree. After listening to everyone I knew give me the speech on wasted potential and my parents basically threatening to disown me if I didn’t go to college, we came to a compromise. If I got my degree, I could do anything I wanted and they would support me. A stipulation being it had to be a PhD. So I filled out every college application they set in front of me. I had a 4.0 GPA, near perfect college entrance exam scores, a long list of community service activities, and glowing recommendations from my supervisors at various summer internships I had during high school. The cherry on top was that I came from an affluent family. I received acceptance letters from every college to which I applied. Numerous scholarship offers added to my “wasted potential” guilt trip. Anyway, when they gifted the sailboat … or yacht to me, they made me promise to never sell it, so I haven’t.”
Quinn didn’t move the whole time I talked and continued to remain motionless and silent. I thought maybe he was asleep and hadn’t heard a word I said. I was fine with that too. Just saying it out loud helped lighten the emotional load I’d been carrying for so many years, but then he tightened his arms around me.
“Thank you,” he breathed in my ear then kissed my shoulder.
I rolled toward him so we were face to face. The look in his eyes comforted me. Searching for “our” connection, I rested my forehead on his and closed my eyes. “I can’t do this with you anymore, I thought I could, but I can’t.”
“I know.” His voice was barely audible.
“Seeing you with Olivia … it broke me.”
He nodded against my head. “I wasn’t with her to hurt you.”
One rebel tear escaped. “I know.”
He kissed away my tear. God I loved that about him. It was such a tender, intimate gesture.
“I want you, to be with you in a way I’ve never wanted to be with anyone. But … when I look into your beautiful blue eyes I see a sadness that is so vulnerable, so fragile. I don’t know what haunts you, but I want you to know it doesn’t change me wanting to be with you.”
Desperate to lift the mood, I smiled. “See I knew you were an okay guy.”
When he laughed my heart skipped a beat seeing the carefree smile that I felt he reserved for me.
“Baby, I don’t know what I’m going to have to do to get upgraded from your stringent okay status, but I’m very willing to give it my all.”
I kissed his neck and ran my hands over his chiseled chest and down each firm bump of his washboard abs.
“It’s going to take time.” I moved up his neck to suck in his soft, smooth earlobe. “Maybe over time you’ll grow out of this homely looking phase you’re obviously going through.”
He bear-hugged me to his chest and kissed the top of my head. “Maybe, but don’t count on it.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Sex is always about emotions. Good sex is about free emotions; bad sex is about blocked emotions.”
~Deepak Chopra
AFTER AN INTENSE morning of make-up sex, we both were in desperate need of food. I made myself right at home in Quinn’s kitchen, finding everything necessary for banana oat pancakes. It seemed unlikely that he did his own grocery shopping and made a mental note to ask him about that. He said he was going to run upstairs and stick in a load of laundry, something else I doubted he did regularly. Opting not to spoil the mood, I didn’t question him, however, my suspicions were that he was changing the sheets on his bed from his “friend” who had been frequently staying. That must have been why he carried me back up to the guest room instead of his early that morning. Refusing to dwell on that thought, I instead focused on the fact that I was the one with him then.
But who will be with him when I leave?
“Hey, beautiful.” Quinn grabbed some juice out of the refrigerator.
“Nope, put it back, buddy. I already have juice for us.” I pointed to the table.
He sauntered over, lifted the glass, and examined it. “Did you squeeze this?”
“Of course. Who would drink that pasteurized crap when you have a refrigerator drawer full of oranges?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t know I did.”
“Yeah, about that, who does your grocery shopping?”
“Why? Are you missing something?”
I flipped the pancakes and gave them a gentle pat with the spatula. “No, quite the contrary. It’s as if you knew I would be here and had your kitchen stocked just for me.”
I gave him a sideways glance trying to gauge his reaction. He didn’t look my way, swirling the last little bit of juice in his glass. “Hmm, what a happy coincidence.”
“Happy my ass. Someday I’m going to catch your elves doing your laundry list of crap you refuse to do yourself.”
He put his hand over his chest in a mock gesture of insult. “I’m hurt you’d think so little of me. I’ll have you know, I am very resourceful and skilled at multitasking.”
“Aka you’re rich and have mastered the art of delegating.” As I set his plate down in front of him, I placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.
“Touche, baby, touche.”
“I checked my flight for today and it doesn’t look like anything is departing or arriving until this evening at the earliest.”
He finished a bite but left his fork in his mouth biting just the end of it then flashed his sexy eyes my way, and I knew where his mind was.
“I’m sure we can find something to keep ourselves occupied while we’re snowed in.”
I crossed my legs under the table to ease the tension building just from his look. “Actually, I was thinking we should play in the snow today.”
His sexy look switched to curiosity. “You want to play in the snow?”
I licked a drip of syrup off my lower lip. “Yep, maybe ice-skating, cross country skiing, sledding … something like that.”
Quinn’s whole face lit up. “Get dressed, baby. I’m taking you to play in the snow.”
*
Travel wasn’t recommended so I suggested something within walking distance. There were people who took heed to such recommendations, such as myself, and then there were those who didn’t, such as Quinn. He didn’t think recommendations, suggestions, or any rules in general applied to him, so we spent half the day driving in the winter terrain before arriving at the ski resort. He was in his element and his enthusiasm was contagious. I knew how to ski but had never attempted snowboarding. In no time at all, I was decked out in the latest and most expensive snow gear the Pro Shop had to offer. Quinn changed into his gear and looked ready for the Olympics. He also looked smokin’ hot. I was starting to question my decision to not stay in bed with him all day, and he easily read my mind.