Текст книги "Behind Your Back"

Автор книги: Chelsea M. Cameron

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Fourteen

I decide on the Brioni again because Saige never saw it the first time. Track is driving me and everyone else is working surveillance. Cash will actually be going with me so in case anything goes down, there will be two of us. He’s donned a black tux with a black shirt and black tie. It makes him look both intense and intimidating. He’s put away his smile for the evening.

“How’s my serious face?” he asks as we get in our separate cars. I’ve got the Ferrari and he’s taking one of the extra BMWs.

“Believable. Can you wear it all night?”

“This isn’t my first rodeo,” he says with a grin before getting into the driver’s side. He gives me a thumbs up and I head out first, with him follow close, but not too close.

Something almost… flutters in my stomach and I realize I’m nervous. What the fuck? I haven’t been nervous to pick up Saige before. Why is tonight different?

I shake my head at myself and wish I had a little nip of something to take the edge off.

I pull up to her place and send her a text. She sweeps down the front steps and I hurry out of the car to get the door for her.

This time her dress is gold and slinky, clinging to her in all the right places. Her hair loops in big curls down her back. Her eyes are smoky as usual, and her lips are red. She’s stunningly perfect.

“Look at you. I would have invited you to one of these things sooner if I knew you looked this good in a tux.” She walks around me, as if she’s admiring the merchandise. And then she reaches out and squeezes my ass.

“Mmmm. Yes. I like this very much. Men don’t seem to understand the power a well-cut suit can have.” She gets me again and my dick goes hard instantly.

“If you keep doing that we’re never going to make it to the damn event.”

She laughs softly and steps back around to face me. God she’s beautiful.

“I wouldn’t mind,” she says, her tone flirtatious. “But I think my father wouldn’t be very happy.” I already know Mr. Beaumont will be there because Cash hacked the country club database and got the guest list. At least I’m not wholly unprepared. Still, I would have liked to wait a while before meeting him, but it would have happened sooner or later.

I help her in the car and go to get in the driver’s side.

“Are you nervous about meeting my father?” she asks as I pull away from the curb.

“Are you kidding? Of course.” I’d decided it would be best not to reveal that I already know him. Not until I see if he wants Saige to know that we’ve already met. This whole situation is delicate and I have to be careful. One rip and everything is destroyed.

“You look stunning, Saige,” I say to shift her attention.

“Thank you. You look very nice yourself, as I said before.”

“I just have one question.”

She turns in her seat to face me, a little bit of a smile on her face.

“And that is?”

“Where’s the zipper? It would be a shame to destroy such a pretty dress when I take it off you later.”

She laughs and then lifts one of her arms.

“The zipper is right here,” she says, dragging her finger down her side.

“Good to know.”

She leans back in her seat.

“Radio?” I ask. It’s a twenty-minute drive to the country club.

“Sure. But no country.” She shudders.

“Agreed.” I put on the classic rock station and wait for her reaction.

“Nice,” she says, bobbing her head along with the music.

This girl is amazing.

I really can’t think thoughts like that. I focus my attention back on the road, looking back in the rearview. There are tons of cars behind me and I know one is Cash.

“I thought of you the other day,” she says over the music. I turn it down a little so I can hear her better.

“Why?”

“I’m taking a history of photography class and we just did a unit on nature photography and of course Ansel Adams came up. Made me think of the picture in your office.” I hate how much I like that she thinks of me when she’s in class. If I’m honest, I like it way too much. Much more than is healthy.

She’s a mark. Nothing more. Just a means to an end.

I wish she wasn’t so fucking lovely. Things would be so much easier. And it’s not just the way she looks, although that certainly helps. It’s her voice and the way she laughs and her passion about art. She’s interesting.

I need to shut this train of thought the fuck down right now.

I grit my teeth and focus on the damn road.

Another night, another valet parking my car. But this time, I get to hold the door open and give a beautiful woman my arm.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she says, shaking her hair so it falls over her shoulder again.

“You’re very welcome, lovely lady.” She takes the compliment in stride as we walk toward the front of the building. It reminds me of an old plantation house. As if any moment Scarlett O’Hara is going to come dashing out the front in an enormous skirt.

More excess, more opulence. But I don’t find it as offensive as I usually do. Might have to do with the woman on my arm.

“Ready?” I say.

“Absolutely,” she says and we walk up the wide sweeping steps to the entrance. The doors are open and the strains of a string quartet greet us. Along with a server holding a tray of fragile champagne flutes. You’d think they would change it up every now and then. Maybe do shots or something, but no. It’s always the same.

I reach for two and hand one to Saige. She thanks me and we make our way into the room.

“See that guy over there?” she says, leaning up to speak softly in my ear, her breath warm against my skin.

“Yes,” I say back.

“He has a foot fetish and hires women to let him worship and lick their feet.” I turn and stare at her and she gives me a little smile.

“How do you know that?”

“These events are like small towns. Everyone knows everything about everyone else.” She does have a point. I know a lot of things about some of the people in this room. Especially her.

“Oh, there’s my dad. We should go say hello.” This time she leads the way, towing me along with her. I steel myself and then see Cash across the room at the bar. He’s getting a drink. Probably something with whiskey. Cash only drinks hard liquor when he’s out at something like this.

I snap my attention back to Mr. Beaumont and notice he has his wife on his arm. Bridgette Beaumont. She shares Saige’s red hair and not much else. She’s… fragile. Like a glass vase holding a bouquet of beautiful flowers that would shatter if you bump it too hard.

Her smile is dazzling under the lights. And fake. So fake.

We reach Saige’s parents and I focus first on Bridgette.

“Saige, dear, who is your friend?” Of course her mother misses nothing. Her tone is pleasant, but her eyes take in everything. From the cut of my suit to my hair to my shoes and my cufflinks. Making sure I’m up to her standards. I hope there isn’t a thread out of place, because this woman will notice it.

“Mother, this is Quinn Brand. Quinn, this is my mother, Bridgette Beaumont,” Saige says, her voice changing and sounding eerily like her mother’s. I wonder if they practiced when she was younger, or if it was just natural to imitate her mother.

“Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Beaumont,” I say, and she gives me a limp-ish handshake.

“Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Brand. I can’t say Saige has told me much about you,” Bridgette says with a quick-as-a-blink glare at her daughter. Saige just smiles sweetly.

“That’s my fault, I apologize. But Quinn and I have just recently become acquainted.” Smooth. Very smooth, Saige.

“Well, I hope I’ll get a chance to hear more about you,” Bridgette says and then it’s time to face Mr. Beaumont.

As I predicted, he betrays nothing as he turns to face me.

“Quinn Brand, it’s nice to meet you,” he says, holding out his hand. His shake is just a little bit harder than it was when we first met. He’s telling me to tread carefully. Don’t worry. I will.

“Very nice to meet you, sir,” I say, laying it on a little thick.

“Well, now that is out of the way, we’re going to go dance. Bye,” Saige says, grabbing my hand and yanking me away before I can say another word. I let her drag me toward the temporary dance floor that’s been set up. A string quartet plays standard waltzes and suddenly I’m back in my kitchen where classical music flows through a scratchy radio speaker and I’m standing on my mother’s feet and she’s counting out the beats of the music as we step and turn around the small space.

I take a breath as Saige puts her hand on my shoulder, squeezing my other hand in hers as she takes position.

“You bragged about your waltzing skills, Quinn Brand. It’s time to show me what you’ve got,” she says with a smile on her face. I slide my hand around her waist and wait for a break in the music so I can start.

There it is.

I take a step and she follows. Then another, and another. Saige moves with me seamlessly, as if we’ve been practicing. Her moves are graceful and smooth. I raise our linked arms and she spins under, a brilliant smile on her face.

She comes back to hold position and we resume the waltz again.

“Okay, I believe you. You’re either a natural, or you’ve had a lot of practice,” she says as we move across the floor and then back. I know there are other couples around us, but all I see is her.

“I’ve had practice,” I say, and fight the tide that wants to drag me into the past. For some reason when I’m with Saige, it’s nearly impossible not to get pulled back there. I don’t know what it is about her, but she brings those memories to the surface. I don’t like it.

“Well, whoever taught you did a good job,” she says, as if she senses I don’t want to talk about it. I decide to turn the conversation back to her.

“And who taught you?”

“My dad,” she says with another smile. “On his feet in the kitchen when I was little.” I nearly stumble, but catch myself at the last moment.

“Something wrong?” she asks. There is no way she didn’t pick up on my stumble.

“Nothing. Just lost track of my feet for a second,” I say, smoothing my face into an embarrassed smile.

“Well, I’ll help you find them,” she says, pulling me closer.

We dance for a long time. Saige never misses a beat and we chat about this and that as we dance. I keep careful watch on her parents, but they seem to be too busy talking to notice us. I’m not fooled. I know they’re watching me closely. I know you’re there, Mr. Beaumont. I see you.

Cash passes by me on another trip to the bar, but he doesn’t make eye contact. He’s got a woman on his arm in a bright red dress and seems completely captivated by her. At least, to the outward observer. But he’s reserved with her. Not his jolly self. He’s put on his own persona for tonight so as to escape notice. He knows how to play his part.

He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, which is his way of asking me if everything is going well. I wait a few seconds before I raise my arm as if I’m adjusting my watch. That’s the “all clear” signal.

Trays of appetizers pass by and I grab a few. There is never enough food at these things, just a few bites on a huge plate. Wish they’d serve burgers or something filling at least.

“I’m starving,” Saige says in my ear. It’s like she knew what I was thinking.

“I think dinner will be served soon,” I say back. She sips her champagne and makes a face.

“Yeah, rich people food.”

I nearly snort as I take a sip of my own drink. It’s top of the shelf stuff, but I’d rather have beer.

“What do you mean by rich people food?” I ask.

“Oh, you know,” she says, draining her glass and then putting it on a tray. “Those little tiny bits of food on those huge white plates. I mean, if they want to make it look like a decent amount of food, they should put it on smaller plates.” I’ve thought the same thing myself.

“Tell you what. After we leave, if you’re still hungry we’ll go grab something.”

“Burgers?” she asks as her face lights up.

“Absolutely.”

We finally sit down to dinner and I’ve got Saige on one side and another couple I don’t know on the other. Saige’s parents are on her other side. This could be tricky, but nothing I haven’t done before.

The conversation is mild and basic. Mostly Saige’s parents just want to know about me. Not that Mr. Beaumont doesn’t already, but I give them the same information I gave him when we first met.

Saige adds commentary here and there and I have to stifle a laugh more than once.

We’re both right about the food. If it’s possible, I’m even more hungry than I was when we started.

After some more polite conversation and coffee, I’m ready to go. I need to use the restroom, but I know if I leave Saige’s side, Beaumont will seize the moment and come find me. So I stay.

She yawns and leans against me. I’m surprised she’s so open in front of her parents, but I let my arm rest on her shoulder.

“I’m exhausted.”

“Would you like me to escort you home?” I ask, being careful with my words.

“That would be great,” she says, her eyes fluttering closed as if she’s exhausted.

She gets up and goes to speak with her parents. I stand back as she kisses both of them on the cheek.

“It was lovely to meet both of you,” I say and they agree.

Saige and I walk out and she smiles at me.

“I’m not really tired. I was just sick of being in there. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love dressing up and dancing and sipping champagne, but I reach a saturation point.” She sort of skips in her heels as we reach the valet area.

“I totally understand,” I say. The car pulls up a few moments later and I hold the door open for her.

“Hungry?” I ask when I get in.

“God yes,” she says, and I hit the accelerator.

Fifteen

“Mr. Beaumont is here to see you,” Grace says on Monday morning. Honestly, I thought he’d contact me before now, but I’m ready for him.

“Send him in,” I say. I wait for Grace to open the door and Beaumont to come in before I look up from my computer.

“Nice to see you again so soon,” I say, keeping my tone cautious.

“Yes,” he says, sitting down without an invitation. “I didn’t know you were screwing my daughter.”

I keep my reaction non-visible.

“I’m not screwing your daughter. I didn’t know she was your daughter when I started talking with her. We met at a coffee shop.”

“And she knows you work here.”

“Yes, but I didn’t tell her that I work with you. I have to keep confidentiality,” I say, my tone even and cool.

“Agreed,” he says and there is a tense silence as I wait for him to make up his mind as to what he’s going to do.

“I can’t say I’m happy about the situation. But I do appreciate you keeping our business relationship quiet.” I nod and wait for him to continue.

He sighs.

“And this better not interfere with our particular business relationship.”

“I can guarantee you it won’t. I keep my business life and my personal life completely separate.” He studies me for a few moments.

“I guess I’m going to have to trust you on that. If I tell Saige not to see you anymore, she’ll just do the opposite. So. I’m going to do nothing. But I’m keeping my eye on you, Quinn Brand. I’m going to be watching you like a hawk.” I don’t doubt him in the slightest.

“I’m not a man you want as your enemy,” he says, his eyes narrowing to slits. Message received.

“I don’t intend to, Mr. Beaumont.” There’s another moment when we measure each other. He must find me acceptable because he gets to his feet, buttons his jacket and holds out his hand.

“Glad we cleared that up. I’ll be in touch about my investments. And I’d appreciate it if you would keep her in the dark for the foreseeable future.”

I agree and he leaves.

My legs buckle and I sit back in my chair. I don’t know why I was so worried about this meeting, but I feel like I’ve just dodged a bullet and escaped with my life. True¸ it’s important that I not piss Beaumont off, but my relationship with Saige is of more importance. She’s my way in.

I close my eyes for a second and breathe to get myself back together. Things are starting to move in the right direction, but I really need to speed things up with Saige. It’s time for an overnight.

All it takes is a few calls and everything is in place. Grace arrives with a bouquet of white roses and a new shirt and tie.

“Thank you, Grace,” I say and catch just a tiny hint of jealousy. I know if I tell her to sit on my desk and pull up her skirt, she probably would. But I don’t want her.

“You’re welcome, sir,” she says, walking back to her desk as I gather my things and head down to my car.

I check my phone and find that Saige is still at the coffee shop where we first met. Good.

I drive to the shop and parallel park just down the street. With the flowers in one hand, I open the door of the café. She’s sitting in exactly the same table we first sat at together.

Her back is to me, so I have plenty of time to approach her without her seeing me. I walk slow enough that she can’t hear me and then reach out and tap her on the shoulder.

Her hair is curly again today and it ripples down her back. I want to twist my fingers in it and pull a little. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll get to in a very short time.

She turns around, surprised, and then she sees it’s me, holding out a bouquet of white roses.

“Surprise,” I say, smiling back at her.

“What’s this?” she asks, taking the flowers.

“I hope you have nothing planned tonight because you are coming with me right now.” She raises one rust-colored eyebrow.

“Really? You think you can just barge in here, hand me some flowers and I’ll do whatever you want?”

“Should I have brought chocolates? A teddy bear?” I say.

She purses her lips and shakes her head.

“I’m not easily bought, Quinn Brand. You can’t just do what you want and think that I’ll come running.” She stands up.

“You have to make an effort.” She steps close to me and runs her hand down my chest, but she doesn’t stop. She goes all the way down past my belt and…

And now I have a hard on in the middle of a coffee shop.

“See, I think you need me more than I need you at the moment.” She gives me a wicked grin and then removes her hand.

“Bad, bad girl. I was going to give you a lovely romantic evening, but now I think I’m going to have to punish you for being so naughty,” I say, my voice low. Her eyes flare with desire, which is exactly what I was going for. Saige likes to play, and I’m more than happy to play with her.

“Hmmm, I don’t know. That depends on my punishment.” I lean down and nip at her earlobe. She shivers and I smell a victory.

“Oh, I’ll make it very, very good. For both of us.”

I pull back and wait for her reaction.

“I suppose…”

“I’ll take that as yes,” I say and reach for her hand.

“Just let me get my stuff together,” she says, turning back toward the table.

I want her. I want her right here, right now. That one little touch has set me off and if I don’t get her alone immediately, I’m liable to take her right here in the coffee shop.

“Hurry,” I say as she takes her sweet time. She deliberately bends down slowly.

“You are trying my patience,” I say and she looks at me over her shoulder with a wink.

“So sorry about that.” She wiggles her ass a little. I just wait, even though every second is agony. Finally, she stands. I grip her arm and pull her close, and set my mouth at her ear again.

“If I don’t get you out the door now, I’m going to have you naked in about sixty seconds and take you right here.” Her breath catches, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Then let’s go,” she says, her voice a little shaky. Good. I have to keep the upper hand with this one. I can’t let her control me. And one of the best ways to keep control is to get her into a bed.

Somehow I’m able to get behind the wheel and drive us to the hotel where I’ve booked a room. Saige doesn’t say anything as I park the car and then help her out.

“I don’t have a change of clothes,” she says.

“You won’t need any for what I have planned,” I say. She squeezes my hand and we walk through the front door of the hotel. I have to check in, but as soon as I get her alone in the elevator, my lips claim hers and our bodies fuse together.

She gasps and then melts into me, her tongue stroking mine, her hands pulling me closer. Her curves conform perfectly to my body. Like she was designed to fit against me. Lucky coincidence and very much in my favor.

She tastes like fire. Hot and sweet.

Dimly I hear the sound of the elevator dinging and the door opening, but I’m too focused on Saige and her body. Her hands lightly shove me and she breaks the kiss.

“This is our floor,” she says, her voice husky. Fuck me. I need to make that happen more.

Before I can think, I grab her around the waist and throw her over my shoulder. She screams, but I ignore it as I walk to the hotel door, swipe my card and let it slam behind us.

My next destination is the king-sized bed that I toss her on. Her body bounces and she looks up at me with her face flushed. But she’s smiling.

“You’re trouble, Quinn Brand,” she says in a soft voice as her hair settles all around her on the pillows. I hope she can’t see that my hands shake a little as I start undoing my tie and stalk toward her.

She sits up.

“What would you do if I said no right now?” I stop walking.

“Then I would say that is a damn shame, but if you don’t want to be with me, then you don’t have to.” I drop my hands and hold them behind my back. She’s killing me right now, but I know this is a test and I have to pass.

“So you wouldn’t try and talk me into it, or change my mind or just take what you want?” She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and I want her so bad I can’t see straight. But I stay where I am.

“No. I would never force someone to be with me if they didn’t want to.” I shuddered, remembering… No. I would never take something that wasn’t mine to take.

She waits for what feels like eternity. And then she smiles slowly.

“Come here.”

I resume my walk toward the bed and she stands up and meets me halfway.

“Take off your shirt,” she says. I loosen my tie and then pull it over my head. My hands get to work on the buttons of my shirt. She doesn’t offer to help, just watches as I undo them and then take the shirt off. I’m wearing a white undershirt and I take that off as well.

“So many tattoos,” she murmurs. She’s seen them before, but it’s hard to take them all in in just one viewing. She walks around me, not touching, just looking.

“I want to take pictures of them and then figure out what they all mean. You’re like a walking piece of art. And I really, really like art.” I nearly jump as her fingertips barely brush the skin of my upper back. Back at the coffee shop, my need for her was like a roar, but now it’s slower. Calmer. Still strong, but I know that the payoff will be greater. There’s something to be said for savoring.

“Would you get a tattoo for me?” she asks, coming around to face me again.

“What would you want me to get?” I say. It would have to be something relatively small. I don’t have a whole lot of free skin left.

“I don’t know. But would you do it?”

“Maybe.” If she really wanted me to, yes. I would. I’m making all kinds of promises to this girl. But whatever I have to do, I’ll do.

“Hmmm, that’s something to think about. Now, take off your pants.”

“Not until you take off yours,” I say, standing my ground.

She puts her hands on her hips.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to piss off a redhead?”

I shrug.

“I like to live on the edge,” I say. She almost smiles.

“Take your damn pants off, Quinn. Or I’m walking out this door.” She’s such a liar, but I’ll play her game. I reach down and start undoing my belt. It’s partially to appease her and partially because I’m very uncomfortable at the moment.

The zipper on my pants is loud in the quiet room. I drop them to the floor and I’m left in just my black boxer briefs. She looks me up and down as if I’m something she wants to devour. I want to do the same thing and she hasn’t even taken her clothes off.

“Get naked,” I say, stepping out of my pants and walking toward her. It’s time to take control. I wait for her to argue, but she wraps her fingers around the hem of her shirt and pulls it up and over her head. Her bra, jeans and panties follow and then she’s finally devastatingly naked for me.

She’s absolutely fucking perfect. Curves and dips and sweet, sweet skin. I want to be everywhere at once.

Saige backs toward the bed and I just… attack her. Our mouths clash and she makes a little sound, but I swallow it and kiss her deep. She kisses me back as her arms go around me, nails digging into my back.

Somehow we get horizontal and I take my mouth from her lips, but only so I can taste the rest of her. I’m frenzied, kissing her everywhere. Behind her ears, at the pulse on her neck, her collarbones, her bellybutton and lower.

I don’t even have to ask her to spread her legs for me. She does and I taste my way down to her core. Just before I lick her, I look up and meet her eyes. She’s staring at me, her eyes wide and sparkling. Green. So green.

I don’t break eye contact as I lick her up and down with my tongue. Her head jerks back and her hands clench on the blankets.

Fuck, I could do this for eternity.

I settle in and go to work, figuring out what she likes, what makes her moan more and what makes her legs tremble and then clench my skull. Her hands find their way into my hair and she yanks me to the right spots.

I’m merciless and she seems to prefer that. I know just when she’s reached her climax and I let her have it. The moans she makes nearly make me come. I want to bottle that sound and keep it forever.

So I make her come again. And again.

“What… about… you…” she pants and I rest my head on the inside of her thigh.

“What about me? I could do this all day, Redhead.” I didn’t mean to call her that.

“Come here,” she says, pulling me by my ears. I crawl up her body and then we’re face-to-face again.

“Don’t you want to fuck me?” she asks, smoothing my hair back. Her skin is flushed and glowing. I love knowing that I’m what put it there. I want her to remember this. Remember me. Remember what I can do to her.

“So much it hurts,” I say, using one hand to stroke her damp hair off her forehead.

“Why don’t you?” She seems… puzzled. As if I’ve done something unusual.

“Because I wanted to go down on you first.” She studies me for a few seconds and then presses up to kiss me. My mouth fills with her taste and it’s almost dizzying. I’m high on her.

Hands creep down my back and around my chest and south. She strokes me on the outside of my underwear before yanking them down my hips. I have to stop kissing her to get them off, but I do and toss them on the floor. I’m about to kiss her again, but she stops me.

“Condom?” Shit. I should have thought of that before I got all cavalier and tossed my pants away.

“Yeah,” I say, scrambling off the bed like an idiot and groping for my pants. I find one of the several I’d shoved in my back pocket and roll it on as fast as I can.

“I know we didn’t use one the first time –”

I stop her explanation with a kiss. Our first time was probably a mistake and I’m not going to make it again. Can’t take the risk.

Neither of us is doing much talking now. I kiss her slow and deep as she moves her legs and reaches down for me. Once I’m in position, I start to push. Slow. She moans as I fill her and all I want is to slam into her, but I resist. Inch by inch I enter her until I’m as far as I can go. She trembles and then arches up, asking me to move. I pull out ever so slowly and wind up.

“Faster,” she gasps, and I let go. I slam into her so hard, she’s pushed back into the mattress. But like the first time, she asks me for more. Fingers digging into my back, legs wrapped around me, hips urging me onward.

I want to last longer than I do, but she’s just too much. I come so hard I’m afraid my brain is damaged. I nearly collapse on her, but tip to the right so I don’t crush her.

“Jesus fuck,” I say, trying to get my breath back.

“Pretty much,” she says, turning her head to the side to look at me. I can barely move.

“Sorry about the biting,” she says, touching my shoulder.

“The what?” I can’t process words and their meanings. She repeats herself and I look down and realize there are teeth marks across some of the tattoos on my shoulder. I don’t even remember that happening.

“No harm done,” I say. It’s not like they’re going to show with all that ink already coloring my skin.

“Good. I should have told you I’m a biter. I can’t really help it.”

“It’s not a big deal. Really. You can bite me all you want, Redhead.” Shit, I called her that again. I need to get my head screwed on straight. Saige has filled my brain and pushed out all of my common sense.

“Okay. Maybe I will.” She turns on her side and I get a chance to really look at her.

“Stay the night with me?” I blurt out. I was going to wait until after dinner to ask her, but the words come out. I have a tendency to say just about anything post coitus. Like being drunk.

She smiles softly and runs her fingers across my chest.

“Okay.”