Behind Your Back (17 page)

“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.”

Sixteen

W
e go another round (or two) and then we have to eat.

“Do you want to go out or order room service?” I ask as she sits up and runs her fingers through her fucked hair. I wish she’d just leave it like that and then everyone would know what we’ve been up to for the past few hours.

“Do I have time to take a shower?” She stands up and I drink in her naked body. Saige is comfortable with herself and that makes her all the more sexy.

“Absolutely.” She smiles, but then frowns.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” Now it’s my turn to smile.

“Don’t worry about that. Go take your shower.” I desperately want to join her, but I know if I do, we’ll never leave this room. I could fuck this girl all day and all night. I’d never go to work, never sleep, never eat. Her taste is still thick on my tongue and in the back of my throat. Her scent is all over my skin and it’s a shame that she’s washing my smell off her right now. But I plan to cover her in it again very soon.

She gives me a puzzled look, but heads for the bathroom and then I hear the water running. Hoping she’s out of earshot, I pick up the phone and make a call to the front desk. Less than two minutes later there is a knock at the door. I open it to find a bellboy holding out several shopping bags to me. I thank him, hand him a tip and take the bags. Not only do they contain an entire outfit for Saige, but one for me as well.

I know it’s silly, but I picked a silver dress for her and a grey tie for me. Not too matchy-matchy, but enough so we look good together. There are some beauty products in the bags as well. I had no idea what to get, but there seems to be a good assortment from the local Sephora.

I have to play this carefully. Cautiously. I can’t scare her off. Not that I think Saige is one who would be easily scared off.

The water turns off in the shower and I wait for her to come out. She’s wrapped in a towel and her hair is dark and wet down her back. This time her face is flushed from the hot water, and not from fucking me.

“Your turn,” she says, passing by me with a little smile. “What’s this?” She gestures to the bags all stacked on the floor.

“We have dinner reservations and as much as I like you in that towel, I thought you might want to wear something a little bit fancier and not made of terrycloth.” She bends down to look in the bags and the scrap of a towel rides up; if I lifted it just a tiny bit more, I’d have one hell of a view.

“I’m going to shower. I hope you like what they picked. If you don’t we can call down and get something else delivered.” She stands up and laughs softly.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just remembering a scene in a movie with Julia Roberts. But you don’t exactly look like Richard Gere.” I know what movie she’s talking about. It’s one of Lizzy’s favorites. I’m not a huge fan of my baby sister watching a movie with hookers in it, but she loves it.

“Well, I’ll make sure not to leave you alone with any of my business partners if we go to a polo match,” I say as I walk into the bathroom. She laughs louder and I shut the door, but listen as the sound fades on the other side.

W
hen I emerge from my (shorter than normal) shower, Saige is still in the towel, but the dress is laid out on the bed, along with a pair of shoes and undergarments, and she’s sitting on the end of the bed brushing her hair.

“Can you grab me the blow-dryer?” she asks, not looking at me.

“Sure,” I say and bring it to her. She looks up and stares at my naked chest before accepting the hair dryer from me.

“Do you need anything else?” I ask. The air in the room feels… changed. There’s a hint of awkwardness and I don’t know where it came from.

“No, this is perfect, thanks. You really didn’t have to do that. We could have gone to my house.” Oh. Maybe she’s feeling strange about me buying her the clothes. But why should she?

“Would you feel more comfortable in your own clothes? I don’t want to be presumptuous.” Shit. I must have overstepped a line I didn’t know was there. Relationships are always tricky. There are hidden landmines everywhere and you don’t know you’ve stepped on one until it’s blown up in your face and then you have to assess the damage and see if you can get out alive.

“No, no. It’s fine. Usually… Never mind.” She definitely wants to say something. I’ve never seen her tongue-tied before.

“Tell me,” I say, sitting down next to her on the end of the bed.

“Some of the guys I’ve been with have certain expectations when they spend money on me.” Oh. Gotcha. I need her to stop that train because it’s not going anywhere.

“Saige. This isn’t that. I’m not like that. I would never expect anything from you in exchange for a gift. Then it’s not a gift. If you want me to take you home right now, I’ll do it. If you want me to leave, I’ll do it. Whatever you want to do. If you want to order room service and eat it naked, I’ll definitely do that.” I try to lighten the mood a little and it works.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thought you’d do that. I know you wouldn’t.” She shakes herself a little and then touches my bare shoulder. Water from the shower drips down my skin. I haven’t had a chance to dry off yet.

“I’d love to go out. And I love the dress. Whoever picked it has good taste.” I take her hand from my shoulder and kiss the back of it. It’s a silly gesture and I don’t know why I did it.

“Good. I was hoping you would. I had to guess on the sizing.” Actually, Track guessed, based on pictures. His fashionable side comes in handy more often than not.

“You guessed right.” She lets out a breath that’s a cousin to a sigh and starts running the brush through her hair again.

“I’ll leave you to get ready. I’m going to shave and get dressed.” My five o’clock shadow is coming in. I stand to go back into the bathroom, but she grabs my arm.

“Don’t shave.”

“Don’t shave?” I repeat.

She stands and runs her palm across my cheek.

“Don’t shave.” I seize her wrist and lick her palm.

“Okay.”

I
don’t have much to do in the bathroom, but I wait for a while. I like the idea of coming out and finding her all done up. Like a before and after picture.

“Are you decent?” I ask through a crack in the door as I slowly open it.

“That depends on what you think is decent,” she calls back. “But you can come out if you want.” I push the door open and am struck dumb by her.

Glossy straight hair, sparkly dress and heels that make her legs look like they go on for days, even though she’s not that tall. She looks at me over her shoulder and grins.

“You like?”

“Very, very much,” I say.

“And I must say that you look very handsome,” she says, coming to stroke my unshaved face. “I like this look on you. Maybe you should grow a beard.” I have before, but not for a while.

“Maybe,” I say. A beard doesn’t really work with my Quinn Brand persona. A beard is more of a Sylas thing.

I can’t take my eyes off her glossy red lips. I’d love to get that lipstick all over me and I have to stop myself from imagining her mouth wrapped around my cock. If I think about that, then we’re never getting out of here.

“Ready?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds even.

“Yes, sir,” she says, taking my arm.

Saige’s heels make a clicking sound on the marble of the foyer of the hotel. Tonight I’ve done something out of the ordinary and hired a car. It’s not something I usually do, but it felt right.

“So this means we can fool around in the backseat and don’t have to worry about crashing?” she says in my ear as the driver holds the door open for us.

I squeeze her hand.

“Only if you don’t mind ruining your makeup and walking around with just-fucked hair.” There’s no way to be gentle with Saige. To fuck her with decorum. The minute I touch her, I want to tear her apart and bury myself inside her.

She sighs unhappily.

“You’re right. But maybe on the way back.” Definitely on the way back.

She winks at me before sliding into the backseat. I get in after her and the driver shuts the door. He already has our destination, so this is going to be a surprise for Saige.

“Where are we going?” she says, looking out the tinted windows.

“You’ll see,” I say, taking her hand. I just need to touch her.

In my mind, I know I’m getting in too deep with this girl. I should pull back, but if I do, then I might lose all the ground I’ve gained and I can’t do that. Saige is a mark. I stare at her and tell myself she’s a job. Just a job.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

She looks back at me.

“Nothing. Just that I’m so lucky that you and I walked into the same coffee shop. Do you ever think about that? How bizarre it is to meet someone like that? If you went to a different place, or lived in a different city, we never would have met.”

Yes. I do think about little coincidences. My parents met because of coincidences and that meeting shaped the rest of my life, Lizzy’s life, and caused my mother’s death.

“Do you believe in fate?” she says, her green eyes intense as they look into mine.

“Yes,” I lie with a smile.

“I
t used to be a speakeasy,” I say as I help her out of the car twenty minutes later. The entrance to the restaurant is nothing special. Just the entrance to a brownstone in what seems like a residential neighborhood.

“You’re kidding,” she says as we walk up the steps and I knock on the door.

“Nope.” The door opens a crack and a man asks if we have a reservation.

“Brand, two,” I say and the door opens. I hear Saige draw in a startled breath. The space is cramped and narrow. And dark. Lit only by red bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

“Follow me,” the host says, leading us across creaking wood floors. The sound is muffled and I wonder if they added the extra soundproofing, or if that was part of the original construction.

At the end of the hall is another door and the host opens it with a metal key. The whole atmosphere is secretive and intoxicating.

Once the door opens, the sound hits us full force and it’s like stepping into another world.

“Wow,” Saige breathes beside me.