Текст книги "Behind Your Back"

Автор книги: Chelsea M. Cameron

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

 

Nine

 

I really wish she would stop surprising me. I’m getting tired of it.

“That’s what you want?” I say and I can’t stop the rush that goes through my body as I think about doing that very thing. I’ve been hard for her since the moment we first made eye contact. And she’s been teasing me all night.

“Yes. That’s what I want,” she says, and that’s all I need to hear. With one quick look in either direction, I yank her into me and shove her down the nearest alley. The buildings are angled so barely any light from the street comes through. I’d like to see her, but it doesn’t matter right now.

“I’m not going to be gentle,” I say right before I push her up against the wall. She gasps. Half in pain and half in… desire. A single shard of orange light from the streetlight catches her face and shows me her eyes. Perfect.

I allow myself one moment of looking at her glittering eyes before I claim her mouth with mine. She tastes like vanilla and cinnamon and heat and need.

I don’t often lose control, but I feel myself pushing so hard against her, she’s gasping, her breaths coming out in little jerks. But she doesn’t push me away, not even when I plunge my tongue into her mouth to claim her even further. She just hooks her leg around me and digs her fingers into my scalp, urging me to give her more.

My lips slide against hers, lubricated by her lipstick. Our noses collide, making my eyes water, but I don’t let go of her, don’t stop.

Before I can think, my hands are moving down her body, scrabbling at the edge of her dress, yanking her underwear out of the way because I don’t have the patience to take them off her. I doubt I could stop at this point, even if she asked me to. Her hands fumble with my pants and the moment she touches my cock my brain explodes and I jerk away from the kiss. I hear her moan and my eyes snap open to find her looking at me with one eyebrow raised.

A challenge.

I push her dress up even more and she bites her lip between her teeth. I stroke her a few times at the juncture of her legs. She’s soft and warm and I just want to sink into her. I want to know how she tastes, but there isn’t time. Without further ado, I grab her legs, lifting her up. She hooks her legs around me and sink myself inside her.

We both moan and her eyes close as her head goes back against the filthy wall. This is what I pictured, only it’s so much better. She’s wrapped around me, clenching my cock and I can smell her and it’s perfection. I pull back and slam into her again.

She knew what she was asking for. I don’t do gentle. Ever.

I don’t last nearly as long as I thought I would.

We’re both panting as I step away from her and zip my pants up. She slides down the wall and it makes me a smile as she shimmies her dress back down.

“Well, you’re not a liar, Quinn Brand, I’ll give you that.” I still feel like I’m in a haze of lust. I wait for her as she straightens herself, picks up her purse, finds a tissue and starts wiping away any evidence of our tryst. I didn’t use protection and she didn’t ask me to, which is probably stupid on both our parts, but what’s done is done.

When she puts her shawl back on, I hold out my arm and she takes it, but stops me under a streetlight.

Her finger traces my mouth.

“You have my lipstick all over you.”

I raise my hand to wipe it away, but she grabs my wrist.

“Leave it.”

So I do.

She’s humming to herself as I drive back to her apartment. I half-expect her to berate me for what happened in the alley, but she doesn’t. I pull the car up in front of her place and turn off the engine. She turns to me as if she’s suddenly remembered that I’m in the car with her.

“Would you like to come up?” We both know what she’s asking and I’m more than happy to comply. But I find myself shaking my head. I can’t let myself be consumed again by her tonight. My head is clouded and I need to sort my shit out before I see her again.

She doesn’t seem upset that I say no.

“You’re right. We probably shouldn’t,” she says, her hand on the door. “Well, thank you for a lovely evening. It was… something else.” She leans over and kisses my cheek and then brushes her hand over the place she kissed. Like she’s rubbing it in.

“Call me.” She slinks out of the car before I can offer to open the door for her. I let her go, watching as she slowly ascends the steps and then turns to blow me a kiss and give a little wave with her fingertips.

“See you later, Redhead,” I say as she unlocks the door and vanishes inside.

I call Cash as soon as I get home.

“I don’t want to sound like a teenage girl asking you about the Sadie Hawkins dance, but details,” he says. I chuckle a little.

“Well, you do sound like that, but it doesn’t matter. It went well. I, uh, I may have fucked her up against the wall of a building.”

Cash doesn’t skip a beat.

“Before or after dinner?”

“After. She asked me what I wanted to do and I told her. I didn’t expect her to go for it, but she did. Didn’t even ask me to use a condom.” Cash makes a sound like a disapproving grandmother and I want to reach through the phone and introduce my fist into his windpipe.

“Yeah, I’m sure you would have stopped, given her a lecture on safe sex and then slid a rubber on. I’m sure you totally would have, Cash.” I pull into the parking garage and pop the trunk so I can put the sweatshirt back on.

“Of course I would have. Safe sex is very important, you know.” I imagine all the different ways I can kill him. There are so many…

“Well, I didn’t, okay? Jesus fuck.”

“Was it good?”

“Yes,” I say, even though it’s a lie. It was more than good. It was rollercoasters and boiling blood and fireworks in my brain. I haven’t felt like that in a long time. I’ve been numb and Saige slapped me in the face. I can still feel the sting of it.

“Uh-huh. Don’t you go falling for her.” I make a choking sound.

“I’m not falling for her. She’s hot. I liked fucking her. That’s it.” I don’t tell him about the dance. I don’t know why. But I fill him in on the rest of the night as I strip off my tux and play fetch with Leo.

“When are you going to see her again?” he asks.

“Soon. Definitely soon.” I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I have red lipstick all over my mouth. It almost looks like blood.

“Definitely soon,” I repeat and then hang up.

I don’t call or text her the next day. I want her to reach out to me. I’m distracted at work. I can’t get the image of Saige out of my head. I wish there had been more light so I could have seen her while I fucked her. But at least I could see her eyes when I came.

“Mr. Brand?” Grace’s voice barges through my foggy thoughts. She’s been saying my name several times.

“Yes?”

“There’s someone here to see you. A Saige Beaumont?” Her cool tone betrays nothing. Grace starts to ask me if I want to cancel my next appointment, but I interrupt her.

“Send her in.”

The door opens and Grace lets Saige in. I clench the edge of my desk as I rise. Her hair is down today, tumbling curls everywhere. She’s wearing a cream satin top with black pants, a black jacket and nude heels, looking every inch the young socialite.

“Saige Beaumont,” I say, stepping around my desk and pulling a chair out for her. “I’m surprised to see you. What brings you here?” My initial surprise has faded and now I’m a little bit… not panicked. Concerned. She shouldn’t be here.

“Quinn Brand,” she says, sitting in the chair and crossing her ankles. Something about it doesn’t seem right. Like she’s trying too hard. “I was out and about and I thought I’d drop in and see what you do during the day. Boring numbers and such.” Her eyes scan my office, taking in the sparse furnishings. The only thing I take with me from office to office is a framed Ansel Adams print. She stands up and is immediately drawn to it.

“Very nice,” she says, gesturing to it.

“Thank you.”

She studies it with a critical eye and then smiles.

“Very nice,” she repeats and sits back down. Her scent has started to fill the room and drift over to me. I’d love to open a window to clear the air, but I don’t move.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask and she shakes her head.

“Are you sure? You must have come here for something.” That makes her smile again and put up her hands, as if she’s surrendering.

“Fine, I had ulterior motives coming to see you. I just… I didn’t want us to do that thing where you wait for three days to call me and I wait around and all that.” I laugh a little, imagining her sitting next to a phone and waiting for me to call.

“You don’t strike me as a woman who would follow those kinds of unwritten rules.” I lean back against my desk and she shifts, uncrossing her ankles and leaning back in the chair. That’s better. More her.

“I’m not usually. Which is how I ended up here.” She laughs a little breathlessly. She’s nervous. I like that. It makes me want to throw her on top of my desk and fuck her all over again. I bet that material of her shirt would tear quite easily. I trace her body with my eyes. I’d gotten to touch her curves last night, but I want to see them. I want to know if she has other hidden freckles. I definitely want to taste her. And then I want to see her come completely undone.

“I think there’s something you want, Quinn,” she says and my eyes travel upwards to meet hers. Her body is something else, but those eyes. I’ve never seen eyes like hers.

“I should think it’s obvious that I want you, Saige. And if you say the word, I’d fuck you right on this desk. With my secretary right outside. She’ll hear everything and know exactly what I’m doing. But don’t worry, she’s discreet,” I say.

She doesn’t even blush. Just looks back at me like she’s daring me to do it. Then she heaves a little sigh and gets to her feet. She stalks toward me and I’m pinned by her gaze, like a butterfly in a frame. I don’t like it. I know she can see how hard I am. Laughing ever so softly to herself, she drags one finger up and down my chest, along my tie. Her eyelashes flutter and she looks up at me through them.

And then she steps back and starts to walk toward the door, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Well, I’m sure you’re really busy and have a lot on your hands. I should get going.” Her hand is on the doorknob when I spring into action. I grab her by the shoulder and whip her around so she’s facing me.

“Don’t mess with me, Saige Beaumont. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.” I don’t mean to be this honest, but she has no idea what I’m talking about anyway. Her breath hitches and color fills her cheeks. Finally. I’ve gotten an involuntary reaction out of her. We stare at each other for a moment, as if we’re locked together and neither of us can move.

And then I find the will to take a step back and let go of her. Shit. Did I just ruin it? But she doesn’t run away. Instead she just turns the doorknob and waves.

“Call me. As soon as possible.” The door shuts and I want to dunk my head in a frozen lake. I pace around my office and pour myself a glass of ice water. I need to cool down. What is it about her that gets me so fired up? I don’t understand it. She doesn’t even have to do anything and I’m ready to yell at her or fuck her or yell at her before I fuck her.

I should call Cash and tell him I need out. I should back away from this assignment. But even as I walk to my desk to get out the burner phone, I know I can’t. I’m stubborn. Once I start something, I need to finish it. And I will finish it. I will take down her father. She’s just part of the process. A very enjoyable, confusing, frustrating part.

I call her as soon as I get home from work. It feels strange talking to her on the phone while I’m in my apartment. Almost as if she can see me and know what I’m doing and what I’m up to.

Saige will never come here.

“Hello?” she says, her voice low and sweet. She knows it’s me.

“Hello, Saige Beaumont. You told me to call you, so here I am, holding up my end of the bargain.” I lean back in the cracked leather recliner and sip a cold beer. I think I’m going to enjoy this. It’s easier to think on my feet when she’s not standing in front of me and messing with my mind.

“Well, I like that you follow through. That’s good to know about you.”

“I always follow through.” As evidenced by last night. She still hasn’t mentioned it and I’m beginning to wonder why. Is she embarrassed? Did I push her too far? Or is she waiting for me?

“I like that in a man. So many say they’re going to do something and never execute.” Good, it sounds like I’m earning her trust.

“My middle name is Reliable,” I say, making a joke.

“What is your middle name? Your real one?”

“I don’t have one. Just Quinn Brand.” Another lie. My middle name is Hudson, after my mother’s father. “And what’s your middle name?” I know it, but I have to ask anyway.

“Juliette. With two Ts and an E at the end. Not like the girl from the Shakespeare play.” I say her name in my mind, even though I’ve known it for a while. Somehow it suits her.

“So, what did you get up to after I left your office?” I’m not going to tell her the truth, that I was so hard I had to get myself off before I could get any work done.

“Oh, this and that. Money. Numbers. Boring math.” She chuckles, as if she knows I’m lying.

“I’m sure it was a terribly dull afternoon.”

“It was. And you?”

“Class.”

“Which ones?” I have her schedule memorized, but I don’t know much about the content. What she actually does.

“Well, I had drawing, which I hate. I signed up for it because I figured you can’t understand art until you know how to create it, so there you are. We had a nude model.”

“Male or female?” I can’t stop myself from asking.

She giggles, and it’s a sound I haven’t heard before. Adorable. Flirtatious. Young.

“Why do you want to know? Would it make you jealous to know that I was drawing a naked man?” No. Yes. No. Definitely not. She’s an assignment, nothing more. Jealousy isn’t part of the equation. But I can play it up for her.

“Maybe. Seeing as how last night I was the one with my cock inside you.” I take another sip of beer as I wait for her response.

“Well, I wanted to see if you were a man of your word. Nothing more than that. By the way, it was a female model.”

“You didn’t want me? Well, you should have said so.”

That makes her laugh.

“I can’t deny I enjoyed it. My dress, however, did not. It’s quite shredded and I don’t know how I’m ever going to explain how it got that way.”

“I’ll buy you a new one. It is my fault it’s ruined.”

“No, don’t worry about it. Next time I’ll wear something more durable.”

“Next time?”

“Next time,” she says with finality.

“What are you doing right now?” I ask. I just saw her last night. And today. But things are moving fast and I have to stay ahead of the game.

“Nothing. Just homework. Do you want to know what I’m wearing?” She dips her voice low, seductive.

“Maybe. Tell me.” There’s rustling, as if she’s shifting and I have an image of her lying in bed with a book in one hand, her hair loose and spread across the pillow.

“Should I tell you the truth or lie?”

“Tell me one and I’ll decide if it’s the truth or a lie.”

“I like that idea. Let’s see, I’m wearing a faded blue t-shirt that I got one summer when I was a camp counselor. It’s so thin that you can see right through it, but I can’t bring myself to throw it out.”

“And under it?”

“Nothing.” I close my eyes and I can see it. I was wrong about not having her here giving me a clear mind. Even imagining her is enough to muddle my thoughts.

“Bottoms?” I ask and my voice is rough.

“Just a pair of shorts from school. They have the eagle logo on the sides. And knee-high black socks with skulls on them.”

Well fuck me. I don’t know if this is the real or the fake outfit and it doesn’t matter.

“I’ll be over in fifteen minutes to see if you’re lying.” I hang up before she can say anything. I can’t wear what I’ve currently got on, so I head to my closet and pick something without even looking at it.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I shouldn’t be this eager. But I shut that part of my brain off as I grab the keys for the BMW.

“Did you run here?” she asks as she opens the door.

“You’re a liar,” I say, looking her up and down.

“Am I?”

“Those socks have rabbits on them. You said skulls.” Other than that one little slip, the rest of her is exactly as she described. Her eyes are free of liner and her lips are free of the red lipstick. She’s scrubbed clean and relaxed as she lets me in.

Her place is just like I thought it would be. Simple, but with little twists here and there. She has a skull on the table by the door for her keys, and a painting of a bleeding heart on the wall above the couch. The colors are mostly muted to show off the few bright accents.

“I did say skulls, didn’t I?” she says, looking down at the socks. “Huh. Anyway…” she starts to say, but I lean down and kiss her mouth.

“What was that for?” she asks when I pull away. I was able to restrain myself from throwing her over my shoulder and taking her to the bedroom, but just barely.

“I wanted to.” She runs a hand through her hair. Some of it is sticking up, like she’d been lying back on it and had just gotten up.

She backs up and gestures.

“So, this is it. I wasn’t expecting you to see it so soon, but oh well.” I’m not sure why she’s worried. The place is cluttered, but neat.

“It’s nice,” I say as she backs toward the kitchen.

“Can I get you something? Coffee?” I didn’t really come here with coffee on my mind, but sure, why not.

“That would be great,” I say as she starts messing with an espresso machine.

“Fancy,” I say, stepping closer. She smashes her hand against the thing and makes a face.

“Yeah, when it works. Most of the time I have to beat it into submission. I tried handcuffs and a whip, but it safeworded out.” A laugh bursts from my mouth.

She whacks the machine again and it starts making a gurgling noise before dispensing coffee into a cup.

“Cream or sugar?” I shake my head and take the steaming cup from her as she repeats the process until she has a cup for herself. She adds a dash of cream and sugar and stirs it with a silver chopstick she pulls from a drawer.

“I must confess I feel a little underdressed,” she says, looking down again. I have to force my eyes upward so I don’t stare at just how thin the t-shirt is. She’s definitely not wearing anything under it, and I might be crazy, but I think her nipples are pierced.

“You look fine to me,” I say, sipping the coffee. Damn, it’s good. I haven’t had a good cup of coffee in a while. She shrugs and then pirouettes on her toes, being careful not to spill her coffee before she heads to the living room. I follow her. She sits on the couch and tucks her feet up. She looks so young right now. Young and vulnerable. Young and vulnerable and fuckable.

But I decide to be a gentleman and sit down on the other end of the couch with enough space for another person to sit between us.

This time, our silence is scented with awkwardness. I take another sip of coffee and clear my throat.

“Do you not want me here? I sort of invited myself in.” She laughs once.

“Believe me, if I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be sitting on my couch. I have a very protective father who would do anything I asked him to.” This, I know.

“Ah, I see,” I say, as if I don’t already know. “So I should probably keep my hands to myself.” She sets her coffee down and leans toward me.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Seems selfish. You don’t want to share your hands?” She leans on her arms and crawls toward me. I have to set my coffee down or else I’ll spill it in my lap. That would probably kill the mood.

“Oh, you want me to share, Saige Beaumont?” I spread my fingers in front of her face and look at her through them.

“Yes, I would love you to share, Quinn Brand. I want you to share all sorts of things with me.” I lean toward her and stop, with our faces only inches apart.

“Well, you know what they say.”

“What’s that?” she breathes.

“Sharing is caring.” I take both hands and hold her face, bringing it toward my mouth. This time the kiss is sweet. Subtle. Teasing.

But I don’t care. Not about her, anyway. I care about getting what I need.

I tell myself this even as she licks the seam of my lips and I open my mouth to let her in. She’ll never get inside me. Inside my soul. No one will ever go there. The person who gets the closest is Lizzy. Maybe Cash. But no one else. I closed that door and locked it a long time ago.

Saige pulls away and studies my face.

“I can tell when you’re thinking.”

I don’t answer her. She bites her bottom lip and then props herself up with her arms. If I’d thought she was fuckable before, it’s nothing to how she looks now. Still sweet and vulnerable, but with a side of vixen.

I turn a little and she crawls all the way over me, straddling my lap. If there was any question about me wanting her, it’s put to rest as she grinds herself against me. Her fingers creep up my chest and come to rest around the back of my neck.

“What do you want from me?” she asks and the echo of a chill runs down my back. I give her what I hope is an easy smile.

“I don’t want anything from you.” She smiles back at me and rolls her hips. I have to bite back a groan.

“Liar,” she says. “Everyone wants something. So. What do you want?”

For one wild second, I think about telling her. Just to see her reaction. I’d never do something so stupid, but this is the first time I’ve even begun to consider what would happen if I did.

“Right now I want you to keep doing that,” I say, brushing my hands down her sides and letting them rest on her hips. She’s soft and generous in that department. More than enough to grab onto. I dig my fingers in and she stares down at me.

“That’s not all you want,” she says.

“You’re right. I want a whole lot more from you.” Yet again, I tell her the truth, but she has no idea.

“Like this?” she says and then kisses me again.

“Like that. And like this,” I say, pushing my hand up under her shirt. Yup, her nipples are pierced with little bars. If I wasn’t hard as a rock already, that alone would have done it. Stroking her nipples with my thumbs, I suck her bottom lip into my mouth. She moves her hips and arches against me. I roll her nipples with my fingers until they’re hard and her breathing has changed.

She breaks the kiss again and I take a moment to savor her flushed cheeks.

“Bedroom?” she asks.

“Sure,” I say and she gets off me, but takes my hand as she leads me down the hall to her bedroom. It’s light and bright, with soft white curtains hung from the ceiling to give the appearance of a canopy over her bed. There are black skulls printed on her pillows.

She drops my hand and I see her hesitate for just a split second before she grips the bottom of her shirt and pulls it over her head.

“Come here,” I say and she obeys. We should have stayed in the living room. This is not the kind of bedroom for the things I’m going to do to her. It’s too soft, too delicate. This is a room for making love and lingering touches and falling asleep in each other’s arms. I will do none of those things here and I hope she doesn’t expect me to.

Her lips meet mine again and I attack her mouth, but that seems to be what she wants. Her fingers rip at my clothes, like she can’t get them off fast enough. Most of the time I try not to undress when I’m with someone, but she gets the best of me. It’s been years since a woman has seen me completely naked and her reaction is exactly what I thought it would be.

“Oh, wow,” she says, taking a step back so she can look at me. I never intended to have that many tattoos, but it just happened. I estimate that nearly 70 percent of my body is covered now. None are on my hands, face or neck. When I wear a suit no one can see them. But now Saige sees them. Sees all of them.

I stand in front of her in only my boxers. Saige’s eyes dart from my shoulders to the sleeves on my arms, down my torso to my legs before she walks around me in a circle to look at the ink on my back.

“I’d ask you what they mean, but there are so many,” she says, coming back around to face me.

“Does this make you think differently about me?” I ask. She finally looks up into my eyes again.

“I’d be lying if I said no. But I don’t think badly of you, if that’s what you were expecting. There’s something about you, Quinn Brand. You’re a man of mystery.” She’s one to talk.

“You’re mysterious too, Saige Beaumont.” I know about the tattoo on the back of her neck, but I wonder if there are others that I haven’t gotten to see yet.

“Not as mysterious as you,” she said, taking her finger and stroking the nightingale tattoo over my heart. I’ve been careful with my tattoos. No names, nothing specific. No portraits. This bird is for my mother. Her favorite thing in the entire world was to sing. Shit. My mind had wandered again and this isn’t the best time for it.

“They’re beautiful,” she says, touching me again. I need to get out of my head. Get out of the past.

“You’re beautiful,” I say with a smile. As I expect, she rolls her eyes.

“What a line.”

“Are you going to let me get away with it?” I ask, getting down on my knees and bringing my face to her stomach.

“Maybe,” she says, her voice just an exhale. I place a kiss on her bellybutton and then dip my tongue inside. She shivers and I watch her skin ripple with goose bumps. I kiss and lick my way lower. I didn’t get a chance to taste her last time and it’s been driving me crazy since then.

She makes a sweet little moan that causes me to smile. She didn’t make that sound last time. I find that I want her to make it again, so I use my tongue just under the band of her shorts. She moans again and her fingers clench on my head. If I had longer hair, she’d probably be pulling on it. Hm. That’s something to think about.

I take hold of her shorts and start inching them down her hips, revealing her bottom half.

And then her doorbell rings.