Start Me Up (8 page)

He’d managed to carry on a conversation all through dinner, answering all her questions about the cities he’d visited in Europe. But then she’d excused herself to use the restroom, and Quinn had been treated to the sight of her walking away, bloodred heels pointing the way to pale, delicate calves. Her thighs would be even paler. And her ass…

“Okay,” he breathed. Time to get it together or he’d be nursing a hard-on through dessert.

But, damn, she was cute.

If he were reasonable, he’d just accept this for what it was: a sex gift dropped, almost literally, in his lap. But he wanted to know the why of it. Why him and why now? She hadn’t answered the question about Molly’s books.

Quinn crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned to the side to peer into the compact red purse she’d left on the floor. Here was a clue that she might temporarily
look
like a character from
Sex and the City
, but she didn’t act like one. She’d left her makeup behind. Good. He liked the natural pink of her mouth. Such a relief after the gobs of shiny gloss Tessa had worn. Not even bubble-gum flavored or anything. Just sticky.

Earlier, he’d spotted the spine of a book that didn’t quite fit into her purse, and now that Lori was away, he couldn’t resist plucking it out to spy.

It really was one of
those
books. Erotica, Molly called it. Quinn winced at the giant, naked pecs of the oiled-up muscleman on the cover and flipped the book over to scan the author names. No Holly Summers, Molly’s pen name, thank God.

Eyes widening, Quinn quickly read the description of the first story. “Wow.”

He thumbed open the book, and began to read. Halfway through page three, a lightning-fast hand darted in and snatched the book from his fingers.

“What are you doing?” Lori hissed.

“Research.”

“Research?”

“You never answered my question about the books.”

Glaring a laser beam of anger into his head, Lori shoved the book back into her purse and dropped into her chair. “That was a hint that you were supposed to drop the subject.”

“But I didn’t. I want to know what all this is about.”

“All what?”

“Lori.”

She looked down at the table. The tips of her ears turned red. Her hands clutched each other against the tablecloth, knuckles growing whiter by the second. Shit, now Quinn felt like an asshole. “I’m sorry.”

Lori just shook her head. Oh, God, what if she was crying? What had he said that would make her cry?

He reached across the table to wrap his hand around hers. “Lori?”

When she looked up, her expression was stubborn, her face pink, but there were no tears in her eyes. “I’ve never, um…”

Quinn’s stomach fell, leaving a vacuum that sucked at his lungs and heart.
Holy crap.
“Lori? Are you saying…?” He leaned closer. “Are you a virgin?”

“No! Oh, God, no. I turn thirty in two months!”

His stomach snapped back into place, weak from all the travel. “But you said…Okay. Good. I mean, not that I wouldn’t be honored…”

“It’s not that. It’s just that I’ve never really…There are things I want to experience and I—Shoot, I don’t know how to say this. I really don’t.” She glanced nervously around the restaurant.

Quinn poured her the last glass of wine, then watched while she drank it too fast. The crème brûlée arrived in a ramekin shaped like a fish, and whatever the hell that was supposed to mean escaped him entirely, but then he was busy trying to analyze Lori and her stammered words.

Her lips closed around one of the raspberries that had been scattered over the dessert. A tiny drop of deep red juice stained her mouth for a moment before she licked it away. Boy, did she have great tongue.

“Is it that you’ve never had an orgasm?” he finally ventured.

Her steady gaze seemed to give him an answer, but then she tilted her head a little, puzzled. “I don’t think that’s it.” She looked around again before dropping her voice to a near whisper. “I mean, I’ve had orgasms. But on its own, coming is just coming.”

It was Quinn’s turn to look puzzled, and he felt he was doing a pretty good job of it. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, hell’s bells, Quinn, I don’t, either.” She smiled again, finally—he’d been missing that—and shook her head, making her curls brush her neck. “If you help me figure it out, I promise to make it worth your while.”

“Deal,” he said, before she could take that back. “So tell me about the books.”

“No.”

“Come on, Lori. We’re going to have sex. Isn’t that a little more intimate than talking about it?”

“No, it’s not!” She pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms. “You’re asking me what my fantasies are, and we’ve never even kissed.”

“We’ve never even kissed, and we know we’ll be lovers, but
that
doesn’t bother you?”

Lori reached for the wineglass, but when she saw it was empty, pushed her fingers into her hair instead. Then she blinked, pulled her hand carefully away from her curls, and patted them back into submission.

“You’d better tell me, Lori. Or I might read the wrong story and show up at your house with a turkey baster and a giant pink bunny suit.”

“A what?” she asked way too loudly, causing heads to swivel in their direction.

Quinn raised his eyebrows and wiggled them until Lori deigned to laugh. It wasn’t long before she had to lay her forehead on the table to try to compose herself.

Quinn offered a friendly wave to the people still watching Lori as she snorted into the tablecloth.

“A turkey baster?” she squeaked.

“What, the bunny suit’s okay with you?”

“Stop it,” Lori gasped. “My mascara is going to run.”

Taking advantage of her incapacitation, Quinn leaned down to retrieve the book. “Just give me a hint. A title. A number.”

Her deep breath whispered past her lips in a long, long sigh. She inhaled just as slowly, making him wait before she finally gave in. “Number one,” she said. “And…number four.”

He glanced down. “But number four is about an alien.”

“I
know.
”

“I’m human.”

Lori finally raised her head to glare at him past her smudged makeup. “Oh, for God’s sake, Quinn. He’s just blue. Otherwise everything else is the same. They never have any tentacles or extra…actually, sometimes…But the guy in this story is normal.”

“Okay, one and four.” And thank the sweet Lord she hadn’t mentioned number two, because that was about a woman and man
and
his best friend. Quinn wasn’t going there, not even for Lori.

The bill arrived, and as soon as he’d paid it, Lori straightened up and nodded. “All right. Your place or mine?”

Quinn jerked back in his chair. “Pardon?”

“Where are we going to do this?”

“
Do this?
You’ve got a nice way of making a boy feel special, you know that?”

Lori closed her eyes, brow wrinkling in stress. “I’m sorry.” She waved her hands as if there were cobwebs brushing her face. “I don’t know how to do what we’re doing. I’m feeling a little freaked out, and I don’t mean to be rude, but I just want to get it over with.”

Her eyes opened while Quinn was still bouncing off the triangular walls of offense, shock and amusement.

“Quinn, I’m sorry. I know I’m being rude, but I just need to get through this first time, you know? Oh, God.” Her green eyes filled with sudden tears. “I’m turning into a monster.”

“I do feel sort of like a harem girl being called up for the sultan’s latest pleasure.”

“Story number five,” Lori whispered.

“Exactly. Shall I prepare myself for you, mistress?”

“God!” She surged to her feet, swaying a little on heels she wasn’t used to wearing, then spun and headed for the door.

Quinn grabbed her purse—and the book—and followed.

“Lori?” It took him only a moment to spot her. She stood at the corner of the next side street, facing his car, just at the edge of a pale circle of light falling from one of the old-fashioned lampposts. As he watched, she reached down and slid one red heel off, then the other.

Glancing back at the sound of his steps, she raised her shoes in a gesture of defeat. “I’m no good at this.”

“It’d be a little strange if you were.”

She just shook her head.

Despite his grand plans, Quinn was nearly overwhelmed with the urge to pick her up, kiss her senseless and drag her home to his lair. Lori was usually nothing if not strong and sure, but right now she looked as fragile as cracking glass. And why was that a turn-on? Some ancient, embarrassing male fantasy of saving a beautiful damsel in distress? What century was he living in?

A slight wind rippled the material of her skirt and tugged at the brown spirals of her curly hair.

“Lori, the whole point of this is for you to have a good time. It’s supposed to be hot and mindless, right? But tonight you’re worrying and thinking way too much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t want you to be someone else. Just yourself.”

She threw her arms out in a jerky motion, the shoes almost hitting him in the chest. “I don’t want to be myself anymore! Don’t you get it? That’s what this is about!”

“I get it.” The air of fragility burned off in her frustration, but Quinn’s need to touch her remained. He tucked the book into his coat pocket and reached for her arm to pull her closer. “But I want to do this with
you,
because of you. If you’re looking to find a new side of yourself, I’m fine with that. But I don’t want you to play at being someone else.”

Her chin jutted out. “What if that someone else is wearing a cheerleading uniform?”

“Well…All right then, we could talk about that.”

She laughed, a choked sound of relief that faded away when he pulled her gently forward, not stopping until he could feel the heat of her body a hairbreadth from his.

He brushed his hand over one of her curls, letting it insinuate itself between his fingers. “I’ve never touched your hair before.”

Her eyelids fluttered. “Sure you have. That time you attacked me with a hat.”

“Not like this. Not real touching. It’s very soft. And I think it likes me.”

“It likes everything, including twigs and bushes. I wouldn’t feel too flattered if I were you.”

When he trailed his thumb down her temple, the sardonic smile fell away and she actually shivered. Her eyes closed. Quinn felt flattered despite her warning.

“Lori.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers for a brief, gentle kiss.

“Mmm?”

Her face tilted up, inviting him to kiss her again, so he did. How could he not? And though he kept it just as soft as the first, his nerves stirred when her sigh swept over his mouth. His heart beat harder. He’d been about to say something. Something important…

Right. “Lori, we’re not going to have sex tonight.”

“Hmm?” When she leaned a little closer, her breasts brushed the cotton of his shirt.

That seemed like a sad place to stop, so Quinn closed the last half inch between them and felt her small, strong body press against his for the first time. Electricity swirled through him like floating threads of pure heat. Imminent sex or not, there was no reason not to touch her.

So he kissed her again, a real kiss this time, a kiss that asked her to open her mouth and let him in. She did.

He’d never thought about what Lori Love might taste like, so he didn’t know why he felt surprised. But he was shocked at the rightness of her, sweet and sexual on his tongue, the most feminine thing he’d ever tasted.

Quinn didn’t bother resisting the urge to have more of her. Moving slowly forward, he backed her out of the light and up against the side of the car. When he pressed his hips against her and deepened the kiss, Lori gasped. Her hands clutched at his waist, and she tugged him closer, harder. Her tongue slid over his, more urgent and needy as each second passed, until the logical thing to do became obvious.

Quinn dropped her purse and lifted Lori onto the hood of the car. He fit himself between her legs, and pulled her snug against his growing erection.

Oh, Christ, that felt good. Lori seemed to think so, too, if he was reading her little whimper correctly, but he wasn’t thinking straight, so maybe it wasn’t—

She thrust her hands beneath his jacket, tugged up his shirt and stroked her palms up his back. Yes, definitely good.

Her tongue sliding over his, her breath hitching, her sex pressing the perfect pressure against his dick…It was all sublime. Beautiful. He sucked gently at her bottom lip, memorizing the texture before he kissed his way over to the sweet curve of her neck.

Lord, she tasted good. Clean and simple, no scent except her skin. Her breath was a rushing beneath his mouth, so loud he could feel it as he sucked and kissed.

“Oh,” she gasped. “I don’t—”

She broke into silence when he rocked against her sex. He wanted her to feel how hard he was, needed her to know what she did to him. Her muscles jerked when he nipped beneath her ear.

“Quinn! I don’t think…Oh, God, that feels good.”

He dragged his mouth all the way down her neck to press his teeth to her collarbone.

“Oh! We need to go somewhere. Not here. We need…” Her body stiffened enough that even in his haze of pleasure, Quinn registered it. “Wait, what did you say?” she asked.

He shook his head. He’d been too busy relishing the texture of her skin against his tongue to say a word. Raising a hand, he cupped the soft mound of her breast, then licked up her neck to her jawline.

Her fingers dug into his back as her knees opened farther.

Yes. That was better. He was cradled by her thighs now, her sex the perfect concavity to hold his hardness.

“Quinn.”

“Yes,” he answered. Yes, yes, yes. She shivered and began to arch her neck back, but that shock of tension raced through her again, and she sat up straight. He felt the tight hold of her fingers in his hair just before she pulled him back. When he opened his heavy eyes, Lori was staring him down with a surprising lack of warmth.

“Did you say we weren’t going to have sex tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would you say something like that?”

The world began to lose its smoky haze, and Quinn suddenly registered that he was halfway to having sex with Lori right here. In public. On top of a car.