“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.
Ten
S
he stumbles away from me with a little cry and yanks her shorts up. As if we’ve been caught. I lick my lips, savoring her taste. She seems flustered as she picks up her shirt and puts it back on and then runs her hand through her hair. The doorbell rings again.
“I’ll go get that. Stay here,” she says, holding her palm up as if I’m a dog she wants to obey her. I get to my feet, but I nod. I put on my clothes and then stand in the doorway of her bedroom to listen as she opens the door. I’m expecting it to be a delivery or something like that, but then I hear a female voice talking to Saige. Loudly. I can’t make out what she’s saying, but I hear Saige trying to shush her.
Then there are footsteps and I dart back into the room and shut the door. A second later, it’s flung open and I’m face to face with Lo Hobbes. I recognize her from some of Saige’s pictures online.
“Yeah, it looks like you’re really busy doing homework,” she says over her shoulder to Saige. “Hello,
homework
.”
“Actually it’s Quinn,” I say, holding out my hand. She gives me a good shake, despite her willowy frame. She’s nearly as tall as I am and reminds me of one of the fairies from Lizzy’s favorite book. She’s all thin long limbs and a sweet face. Although, at the moment, it’s not so sweet.
She takes her blonde hair down from its bun and then twists it up again.
“Lo,” Saige says, a warning tone in her voice. Lo turns toward Saige.
“What? You’ve been so weird the past few days and now I know why.” She grins back at me with lips covered in gloss. Saige mouths an apology to me over Lo’s shoulder, but I actually find the whole thing funny.
“It’s nice to meet one of Saige’s friends, under any circumstances,” I say.
“From the looks of it, if I’d come a little later, I might have met even more of you,” Lo says and I decide I like her. My initial impressions are almost never wrong. With one exception. Cash.
“Almost,” I say and Saige seems to have shoved her embarrassment aside.
“Was there something you wanted, Lo?” Lo looks back and forth between us.
“Just this. I’d love to interrogate you now and give the whole speech on not fucking over my best friend, but sadly, I have a work emergency.” I remember from my research that she works as a curator at a local museum, which is probably one of the reasons she and Saige get along so well. They share an affinity for things from the past.
She pats me on the shoulder.
“Fuck with her and I’ll destroy you. I have three brothers who adore me and would do anything I asked. Okay?” Little does she know that I have my own brothers of a sort who would do anything for me as well. But I give her a smile.
“Duly noted.” She passes Saige and whispers something in her ear that makes Saige narrow her eyes. Lo leaves, her laughter echoing even after she’s closed the front door.
I leave the bedroom and stop in front of Saige in the hallway.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t know she was going to just show up here.” She seems to have smothered her embarrassment into mere annoyance.
“It’s fine. No harm done. Although, if I hurt you, I guess there will be.” I laugh.
Saige rolls her eyes and tugs on her shirt to make sure it’s covering her stomach. It’s a strange fit of modesty.
“Don’t listen to her or believe anything she says. I don’t.” I put my hands on her shoulders and she looks up at me.
“Maybe we rushed things a little bit,” I say. As much as I would like to relieve the hard-on I have, building a foundation with Saige is more important. I need to get her to trust me before she even knows she’s doing it. Before I use that trust to get what I want.
She rises up on her tiptoes and then down. I wonder if she took dance when she was younger. I don’t have access to a lot of those details.
“You’re probably right. I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves.” She sighs and walks back toward the living room.
“Do you want to watch a movie or something? Or we could go out and take a walk.” A walk would be most uncomfortable until I can talk my cock back down.
“A movie sounds great.”
T
wenty minutes later, we’re still arguing about which Hitchcock movie is the best.
“Are you kidding me?” Saige says. “It’s not
Rear Window
. It has to be
Vertigo
. You’re crazy if you think otherwise.” I can’t believe her. She’s the insane one if she thinks that
Vertigo
is better and I tell her that.
“Whatever. We’re just going to have to watch both and then you’ll see.” She grabs the remote and selects
Rear Window
. I’ve seen it so many times that I don’t need to watch it again.
“You’re wrong, Quinn Brand,” she says as she stomps off to the kitchen to make popcorn. She keeps surprising me. Shifting, changing from what I think she is into something else. Trying to figure her out is like trying to hold water with your fingers apart. She keeps slipping through. It should make me uneasy, but I’m too wrapped up with the mystery of this beautiful girl to care. That’s going to be a problem, but I’ll deal with it later.
“Butter?” she yells over the sound of the air popper.
“Yes! And salt!” I yell back. I’d actually prefer to have the popcorn with just salt, but I don’t mind eating it with butter.
“Do you want a drink?”
“Water is fine.” She comes back with a giant blue bowl in one hand and a glass in her other, a second glass held between her side and arm. I stand up to take it from her so it doesn’t fall.
“If you needed help, you could have asked,” I say as she sits back down and folds her legs up on the couch. She places the bowl between us and I see that she’s been quite liberal with the butter. Suck it up, Quinn.
“I usually put more stuff on my popcorn, but I didn’t know how you’d like it,” she says, grabbing a handful.
“What do you put on it?” I keep my eyes on the screen, but all my attention is on her.
“Chocolate chips, caramel sauce, hot sauce, chili powder, frosting, you name it. I should make you my ranch popcorn. It could change your life.” I reach for a handful myself and try not to grimace at how saturated the popcorn is.
“It sounds disgusting,” I say. I’m a food purist. I like things to be as simple as possible.
“Yeah, well, you’re wrong about that too. You’re wrong about a lot of things, Quinn Brand.” I shake my head and go for another handful of popcorn.
“And you really like to be right, Saige Beaumont.” I don’t know why I like using her first and last name, but it almost feels like a habit.
“I
am
right. There’s a difference.” Tossing a piece in the air, she catches it in her mouth and then grins at me with the popcorn between her teeth.
“We’ll see,” I say.
I
know I’m spending too much time with her. The goal is to get in, get what I need and get out. But I’m drawing out the process with Saige. Maybe it’s because this time it feels different. She feels different and I can’t say why. I feel off-balance with her, which isn’t an entirely unpleasant thing. After so many days of doing the same thing, this is new. She is new. Refreshing.
We’ve watched both movies and it’s well past dinner time. I briefly consider asking if she wants to go out again, but I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome. I take the empty popcorn bowl and glasses and put them in the sink. She gets up and follows me into the kitchen.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” I say. If there’s one thing I’ve ever learned about women, it’s that doing a little goes a long way. Picking a dish, taking out the trash, simple little gifts.
She leans on one of the counters and wraps some of her hair around her finger.
“You’re something else, you know that?” She has no idea.
“So are you,” I say.
I wipe my hands on a dishtowel that’s covered in red poppies and sigh.
“I really should go,” I say and I ignore how much I hate saying it. I want to take the words back as soon as they’ve left my mouth.
“Yeah, sure. I actually do have homework to do, so I should probably get back to it.” There’s an odd pause between us and I break it by leaning forward and kissing her on the cheek.
“Call me,” I say before heading toward the door. She walks behind me and I really want to turn around, push her up against the cabinets and fuck the daylights out of her. But I don’t. She looks like she wants to say something, but she presses her lips together and smiles.
“See you later,” she says as she closes the door behind me. I let out a long breath and head for the stairs.
A
s soon as I’m back in my car, I call Cash.
“What is wrong with you? Your voice sounds different,” he says before I can even tell him why I’m calling.
“My voice sounds different? What the fuck are you talking about?” I consider getting in a cab, but the walk will be good for me. Burn off all the fire that Saige lit in me earlier. Every time I blink all I can see is her face and her breasts and her pierced nipples when I was on my knees and looking up at her. I know I want her, but anyone would want her. I’m a man and she’s a woman. It’s biological.
“Never mind. What’s up?” Hm. Cash never had a problem with calling me out on my shit, but he backs off on this.
“I just wanted to let you know that I saw her. We, ah, nearly got together again, but then Lo walked in on us. I guess she was worried when Saige didn’t tell her about me, so she just showed up.” Cash laughs.
“Aw, you got cock-blocked. Maybe you should have asked her to join.” Something tells me neither Saige nor Lo would be the kind of girls who would share when it came to the bedroom.
“I don’t think that would have gone over well.”
“Too bad. The friend is pretty hot, from what I remember.” I roll my eyes and try to get Cash back on track. Sometimes he thinks too much with his cock and not his brain.
“Well, keep me updated. Oh, and Track’s been gathering intel for the next mark.” The next mark. I can’t even think about that. I can’t see anything past what I’m doing right now.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. We might even need to move again anyway.” I have the feeling that after this job, we’ll need to bail.