Start Me Up (10 page)

Outside.

Outside, yes, but looking just the way he’d fantasized she’d look in her underwear.

Except in his fantasy she hadn’t been with his best friend.

And she hadn’t been angry. Or drunk enough to drink straight from a wine bottle.

As if she’d read his scrambled thoughts, Lori arched an impatient eyebrow and raised the bottle to her lips for a hearty gulp. Fury flashed through him, uncalled for and totally real.

“What the hell is going on here?” he barked.

She gestured with the bottle, a long sweep that encompassed the house and the lot. “It’s my Thursday-night pajama party, Quinn. Me and all the other girl mechanics get together to have a pillow fight and lure men off the streets in our butch underwear. Is it working?”

Quinn tried to hold his tongue and failed. “Apparently. Ben’s already been here, hasn’t he?”

Her lips smiled, but there was no humor in her eyes. “Yep. In and out. And all the free coffee you can drink, but you might leave with a few grease stains.”

His grand plans for seduction were spiraling into obscurity. The last thing he’d expected to find was her already undressed and entertaining Ben. And what the hell was she so enraged about?

Lori must have gotten tired of glaring at him, because she finally shrugged and headed for the front steps. Quinn followed and caught the door before it could slam in his face. “What is your damn problem? Are you still pissed about Wednesday night?”

“Yeah, because I’m that sensitive about not getting to the glory inside your pants, Quinn.”

He followed her in and slammed the door. Hard. But that didn’t relieve his baffled anger, it only pushed it up another notch. “What is your problem? I’m the one who just walked in on a very questionable situation. Shouldn’t you be explaining yourself? Jesus, you’re not even dressed!”

“Did we ever agree to be exclusive?”

“Excuse me?”

“We never made any promises about dating other people. It’s just a fling.”

His vision flashed a dull red with each pulse of his heart. “
We haven’t even slept together yet.
And he’s your best friend’s boyfriend!”

Lori rolled her eyes. “Look, you’re off the hook, all right? I don’t want you making any grand sacrifices for me, Quinn. Just get back to your Aspen women.”

“I don’t…What the hell are you…? What Aspen women?”

“You know, the ones with the fake boobs and the fake eyelashes and fake tans. The ones who look like center-folds instead of tomboys.”

What in God’s name was she talking about? Quinn threw up his hands and shrugged, exasperation turning the gesture violent. Lori apparently felt violent, as well, because she stalked over to the table, banged down the bottle and snatched up a newspaper. He only knew it was a newspaper because it landed on his face a half second later.

“That doesn’t help clear things up!” he shouted as he crumpled the sheet in his hand.

“There’s a picture of you in there with Dream-Whore Barbie. That
obligation
I believe you mentioned. Not exactly a horrible burden, huh?”

Anger still swirled through his chest, but beneath it Quinn felt the floor of his stomach drop a few inches. Dream-Whore Barbie? That could only be—

He snapped the paper straight and looked right into the wide, white smile of Tessa Smith. Shit.

“No wonder you didn’t want to do me the other night. You were probably still worn out from the night before. She looks like she does Pilates.”

She did do Pilates, damn it. Quinn shook his head. “No. No, Lori. That wasn’t a real date.”

“No? You mean you’re not sleeping with her?”

He watched her eyebrow arch up, a challenge he couldn’t counter. Shit. “Not anymore,” he offered pitifully.

“Not,” she bit out,
“anymore?”

Though frustration began to fuel his anger again, Quinn was suddenly struck with the realization that Lori was hurt. He’d hurt her feelings. Most of his rage fell away and slid like spilled ice across the floor. What a seduction this was.

Time for a hurried explanation. “We used to date. I broke it off two weeks ago—”

“She was at that restaurant with you a week ago.”

“Uh, yes. A misunderstanding. And when I broke it off, she insisted that I still take her to that music fund-raiser and I wasn’t seeing you yet, and…I only took her to the fund-raiser and then home. Not even a kiss.”

Her hard expression didn’t soften. “But you did date her. And sleep with her.”

“Uh.” Was there a good answer? No, there was not. He left it at “uh.”

“You liked her.” She came close enough to tap the paper so hard that it fell from his fingers and floated away. “You liked that. And
that
is not
this.
” Her hand swept a scornful path over the front of her body.

“No, it’s definitely not.”

When her face darkened to the color of blood, Quinn realized what he’d said.

“I don’t want that kind of woman,” he blurted.

Lori stalked back to her bottle of wine and slammed back a shot of red. When she looked at him again, her face was calmer, but her eyes might have been a bit too shiny. “Stop being so nice, Quinn. Just stop. You dated her, so you liked her. I’m not a delicate flower. I appreciate what you were doing for me, but…I want a fling, not a handout. So, thanks, but I’m not a grenade you need to throw yourself on.”

“A grenade…?” Quinn shook his head, wondering again how this had all gone so wrong. He’d stayed up half the night reading. First the stories she’d suggested, then the rest of them, because what the hell. And he’d been looking forward to coming over and starting their little adventure. More than looking forward to it. He hadn’t been able to sleep, which wasn’t unusual. But he also hadn’t been able to concentrate on work, and that was a first. He’d wanted to rush the clock forward so he could come over here and give her what she wanted.

And now? Now it was off the rails, and if he hoped for any chance at all, he had to tell her the truth. The embarrassing truth.

So he did. “Tessa is not my type. I wasn’t really interested in her at all, but she was…persistent.”

Lori narrowed her eyes in clear doubt.

“She wanted to go out with me, I guess. Because one day I looked up and I was dating her.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Yes, it is. But at some point, I was distracted during a conversation and I said yes when she suggested dinner. Then I was on a date, and I couldn’t not be nice, and a few hours later we were in bed together.”

“Just like that?”

“Damn it, I know it sounds absurd, but this is my life, Lori. Absurdity. If you don’t pay attention to the world around you, you find yourself involved with…”

“Dream-Whore Barbie.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“No, it’s not. I’m not nice all the time, and it throws people off because I look like an elf.”

“A sexy elf,” Quinn said automatically, apparently surprising her, because Lori lost her frown and actually laughed.

“You sound like your sister.”

Her smile started a slow burn of relief that melted some of the ice from his muscles. “It honestly was an obligation. And she’s honestly not my type, Lori.”

“Ha!” She didn’t believe him, but at least she seemed to consider it a benevolent lie.

“So, truce?”

“Ah, screw it,” she muttered, reaching for the bottle. “Fine. Here’s to a truce.” She tipped it back and then offered him the wine.

Not wanting to be rude, and still a little dizzy from the whole strange encounter, Quinn took a drink, too. A long drink. More like chugging, actually. “Nice vintage,” he rasped, as he finally set it down. “Now I don’t suppose you’d care to explain the whole underwear-in-the-parking-lot aspect of this?”

She shrugged. “I just got out of the bath, and Ben happened to stop by at an unlucky moment.”

Unlucky. Right. Now that he finally had the time to focus completely on the picture she presented, Quinn was even more shaken. Her panties covered everything, but seemed somehow sexier for it. And her tank top…Well, it wasn’t made out of thick twill. The white cotton looked painted onto her small breasts. Her nipples pressed hard against the friction, and he could just make out the faint shadow of the darker skin of her areolas.

Speaking of shadows…Quinn let his gaze drift lower. No shadow, but his attention was drawn by the blue sparkle of something decorative winking from the front of her panties. He wasn’t close enough to make it out, but maybe he could get closer.

“I did my homework,” he murmured, and watched her jump a little at his words.

Her eyes flew to meet his. “Homework?”

“Yes.” There had been a clear common thread in the two stories she’d liked. Both heroes had been aggressive. Not rough, per se, but not the least bit tentative in getting what they wanted. On the drive over, Quinn had felt slightly nervous about that. Not that he considered himself passive, but he was always considerate in bed. Maybe even polite. But these stories weren’t about gentle encounters, they were about hard lust.

Quinn wasn’t nervous anymore.

They’d been staring at each other for a good thirty seconds, neither making a move. Lori’s eyes got wider. Quinn’s got narrower. His anger had morphed into something much better.

When he took a step forward, her hands twisted together.

“Quinn?”

“Hmm?” Not willing to stop and let her think—what did thinking have to do with fantasies?—Quinn closed the last two feet between them and pulled her into his arms.

“What…?” she gasped before he caught the sound against his lips. Ah, yes. Just the taste he’d spent the whole day trying to recall with perfect clarity. Lori sprinkled with wine.

She was stiff in his arms, but while the old Quinn would’ve immediately set her back and let her go, he was a new Quinn. A man determined to give her what she needed, even if she had no idea what that was. A man shaped for her wicked pleasure.

He smiled against her mouth and swept his tongue in to brush against hers. The tiny sound she made seemed very positive. Her arms crept around his waist. Quinn backed her up and set her on the table, fit himself between her parting thighs, and picked up where they’d left off on the hood of his car.

“Mmm.” She sighed at the feel of his fingers sliding along the hem at the back of her tank top. Those long, elegant fingers, exploring her back. Now slipping up her spine. Now splayed across her shoulder blade, her bare skin.

He pulled her closer to him, a rough little jerk that pressed her sex hard against him. Oh, God, he was hard already, which made her feel better about the damp state of her underwear. His dick pressing against her made her aware of her own heat, her own slickness. Lori pressed back and felt him shudder.

His mouth broke away, breath harsh as his lips trailed down her jaw. She drew in a desperate gasp, overwhelmed already by the feel of his teeth on her neck and his hand sliding around, pulling her shirt up as he moved.

She was about to be nearly naked, exposed to his eyes and hands and mouth, and Lori was just tipsy enough to be thrilled instead of self-conscious. Some evil part of her brain whispered that she should be worried about the comparison to tight silicone, but she beat that voice down and stomped on it with imaginary work boots. Those steel-toed monsters were good for something.

Quinn’s hand finally found her breast, fingers curving under the slight weight, thumb dragging over her nipple.

“Ah,” Lori cried out, unable to hold back the startled sound. Embarrassing to be so affected by such a minor caress, but it felt so damn good. Because of the wine or the adrenaline or because it was Quinn…She didn’t know and didn’t care. This was it. Just what she’d been looking for.

Quinn tore his mouth from her neck with a curse and his hands fumbled roughly with her shirt before he managed to yank it up over her head. Before she could clear the hair from her face, he was on his knees in front of her, eyes blazing.

He growled, “Lean back.”

“Wh-what?”

“Lean back on your hands.”

Uncertain but fully willing to take a chance, she put her hands flat on the table behind her and arched her back.

Quinn smiled a pirate’s smile. “That’s it.”

When she glanced down to see what he meant, Lori thought that her breasts looked smaller in this pose, pulled high and taut. Before she could protest, his hand came into her line of sight, fingers trailing a butterfly touch over the curve of one breast.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Unbelievable. I’ve been imagining you for days.” His thumb brushed her peaked nipple again, and the skin crinkled tighter around it. Lori held her breath, watching.

One long, elegant finger traced the edge of her areola. “Like late dawn. A cool white sky warmed by pure blush pink.” It would’ve sounded sweet if his thumb and finger hadn’t closed over her nipple just then, squeezing pressure into a nerve that ran straight to her sex.

Lori closed her eyes and tried to breathe and feel and memorize it all as it happened. His fingers soothed, then squeezed again. She was gasping for air when wet pressure closed around her, and then his teeth, scraping fire.

“Oh,” she yelped, spine arching even farther. His hand closed over her other breast while his mouth worked, and Lori descended into pure pleasure. She’d never particularly enjoyed it when a man paid attention to her breasts. In fact, at times she’d found it vaguely physically disturbing, an irritant. But now she was so turned on, she wanted more, harder, something close to pain.

Lori gave up her pose and reached for Quinn’s hair to pull him greedily closer. He bit her—as reward or punishment, she wasn’t sure, but she enjoyed it all the same.

“More,” she groaned, and felt his hand tighten over the other breast. Then his mouth sucked harder while his teeth closed down and Lori wondered if she was bruising his skull.

When he tried to pull away, she didn’t hesitate to twist her fingers into his hair, hard.

Quinn’s gaze flashed up to meet hers, his eyes sizzling with furious passion. Lori met it with her own. She wanted to hurt him, make him cringe even as he moaned with pleasure, so she squeezed her fists as hard as she could, trying to force him back to his task.

He growled, but didn’t obey. Instead of bending his head, he surged up and lifted her from the table. “Bedroom?”

“Can’t we do it here?”

“Bedroom. Now.”

She pointed and he moved, apparently unimpeded by the way she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was still fully dressed in a suit and tie, and the fabric rubbed against her naked skin, pointing out her vulnerability. Lori didn’t mind at all. As a matter of fact she felt good and dirty. She leaned up and bit Quinn’s neck, happy that it made him stumble a little.

He lurched into the small hallway where her bedroom door stood wide-open and waiting, and Quinn headed straight for the bed. She dug her heels into him to urge him on.

It worked. He kept going until his knees hit the bed, then he let them both fall to the mattress, bracing his own weight on his hands. Lori didn’t want his weight at a safe distance. She wanted it on her, in her, pressing her down, down, down.

But when she reached for him, he slipped away. Before she could catch her breath to shout a protest, she noticed that he was struggling out of his suit coat.

He caught her eye. “Take off those panties, Lori Love.”

She blinked and blinked again, caught between surprise and a tiny whisper of self-consciousness.

“Now,”
Quinn clarified, and what could she do but obey? As his hands rose to tug off his tie, Lori reached for her underwear. She wanted to close her eyes but didn’t. Somehow his surety made this so much easier. So, eyes wide and locked with his, Lori got up on her knees and slid her panties off.

For a long moment, his gaze didn’t waver. His eyes burned into hers. And then he looked down.

His hands continued their work on the tie as he stared at her nude body. He pulled the end free of the knot in a long, whispering motion that seemed almost threatening. Lori shivered, and he met her gaze once again.

His shirt parted as he popped the buttons open. “You are going to take back what you said tonight. About this being a grand sacrifice on my part. A handout. You
will
take that back.”

“I…Mmm…” Did he want an answer now? Because she was slightly distracted by the skin being revealed. The muscles of his chest worked as his hands moved. They bunched and relaxed, and when the hell had Quinn grown muscles? Amazingly, when he tugged the shirt from his pants, a six-pack marched down in faint lines beneath his skin. And then his shoulders shrugged free of the pale blue cotton, and—

“Oh, my God,” Lori gasped. Those
shoulders.
Wide and tight and…
wide.

“Something wrong?” he asked, glancing back toward the hall.

“You lift weights?” she asked.

“No. Why?”

“You did not look like that on the basketball court in high school.”

“Like what?” He shook his head. “I swim.”

“To
where?
”

The male ego kicked in, if a bit belatedly, and Quinn’s laughter sounded very pleased. “I swim sometimes when I can’t sleep.”

“Mmm. Molly says you have insomnia.”

“I do.”

“I can see that.”

That chuckle again, like the sound of sexual promise. “You’re making me blush.”

She meant to say something funny, something about giving him a real reason to blush, but Quinn reached for the button on his slacks and the words turned to mush in her mouth. When he stopped with the button and failed to reach for the zipper, the mush turned to concrete. Lori watched like a tiger eyeing its prey.
Come on. Come on. One step closer and I’ll have you.

Quinn made a humming sound. “I like you looking at me like that.”

“Great,” she croaked. “Let’s look some more.”

“You look hungry.”

“Uh-huh.”

He stalked toward her, pants still firmly in place. “But I want you starving.”

“What? No. Come on. You’ve been reading too many books.” She wanted him naked and hard and pushing into her right this moment. He put one knee on the bed. “Take your pants off, damn it!”

“Shut up,” he answered just before his mouth caught hers.

A punishing kiss.
How many times had she read that stupid phrase in books? It had always seemed ridiculous to her, but if there was such a thing as a punishing kiss, this was it. Hard and demanding and hot. Quinn’s tongue licked roughly against hers, and his muscled arms forced her down to her back. This kiss didn’t ask for anything, it demanded that she yield.
A punishing kiss.
And Lori was suddenly a dirty girl who needed that control and correction.
Oh, God, yes. Yes, I
am
dirty. Finally.

Quinn didn’t stop kissing her, but he did start exploring her body, trailing his fingers down her side, then back up to tease her breasts. Shivering, she reached for him, thrilled to finally get her hands on his nakedness. God, his skin felt like silk stretched over the strength of his arms. She slid her palms everywhere—up, down, around to his back. He was hard and smooth until she got to his chest, where crisp hair trailed down to the waistband of his pants.

His fingers teased and teased, venturing as low as her navel before dancing away again. By the time he lifted his head, she was gasping, her heart sucking too much oxygen from her blood. When he licked at one nipple and then the other, Lori pressed her mouth to one big shoulder and bit down to try to stifle her need.

Quinn grunted, but neither the direction of his hands nor the pressure of his mouth changed. She was wet and tight and empty, and she needed him to touch her sex
now.
His fingers teased over her hip bone.
Now, now. Please.
She let her knees fall open.
Please.

His fingers—those elegant, artistic fingers—slipped into her dark curls, setting her nerves on fire. Her jaw trembled as she panted into his shoulder. “Quinn,” she begged. And then finally, finally he touched her, the tips of his fingers sliding along the wet line of her sex, up and down.

Lori gasped hard, but she still heard his sigh. As if the feel of her relieved something deep inside him.

“Damn, you’re wet,” he whispered as he dragged one finger over her clit.

Her hips jerked, rising up, desperate to get more of his attention. Her body’s plea worked. Quinn circled her clit once more—Oh, God—and then he slid one long finger deep inside her. She thought that felt good, but then he withdrew and pushed two fingers into her body, stretching her tight.

Lori broke. “Oh, God, Quinn. Oh, that feels good.”

He fucked her with his hand, and Lori gave up her hold on his shoulders and grabbed for his wrist.

“Yes. Yes. Ah,
Quinn.
” He’d curved his hand in some miraculous way so that every movement rubbed her clit at the same time as he thrust deep inside her. She dug her nails into his arm, making him hiss. He repaid her by closing his mouth over one nipple and sucking hard.

“Quinn,”
she cried as all the nerves in her body began to shimmer. A vague sensation of floating lifted her away from the world for a long moment, and then her body pulled Lori back down into her skin just as she shattered into a million glittery bits. Her own scream floated to her ears as her hips jerked against his hold.

When she finally went limp against the bed, his touch left her and the mattress shifted. Lori wanted to open her eyes to see what he was up to, she really did, but she was too busy wondering how she could have lived without that for three decades. That…that
climax.
So much more than just an orgasm. That impossible melding of strength and utter weakness warring for control of her body.

The sound of a zipper lowering floated through the haze. Lethargy vanished like a bubble popping, and Lori’s eyes flew open.

“Well, hello there,” Quinn said.

“Hello.” She sighed, stretching hard, muscles sighing with pleasure.

“My God,” he growled. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Mmm. I think you’re just horny.”

“That, too.” He sat on the bed to tug off his shoes and socks, and Lori couldn’t resist shifting close to press a kiss to his back.

He growled again.

She liked that, so she licked a little way up his spine, then back down. This time he hissed. Lori liked that even more. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, the skin of his back pressed against her cheek, and she nuzzled him, breathing him in, the warm scent of skin and hint of fresh sweat. He was sweating for her. For
her.

Spreading her fingers wide, Lori smoothed her hands down the front of his thighs, then dragged them back up, letting her nails scrape against the fabric of his pants. The deep breath he took echoed through his body and into her ear, then it froze; he was waiting.

Smiling against his back, Lori pushed her hands slowly toward the open zipper. She held her breath, too, anticipating this first touch. The metal scrape of the zipper, then the soft, hot fabric of his boxers, and beneath that…His thick, solid length filled her hand.
Oh, yeah.
Lori stroked.

Air rushed into his lungs, then just as quickly out. She curled her fingers as far as she could past the barrier of his underwear. He felt big. Excitingly big.
Yes, yes, yes. Please let him be big.