On Paper (15 page)

When I woke up the next morning I was still tangled around him, the heat of his body warming me like direct sunlight. I was hot, but too content to move. I breathed in, taking in the faint scent of his cologne. I needed to stretch, but I didn't want to move and break the spell that I was still under.

"You're beautiful when you sleep." I felt his voice in his chest and smiled at the gravelly sleepy tone. Finally I moved, rolling to my side. It was cooler instantly. I lay my head on the pillow and looked over at him, finally getting a chance to take him in. God, he was gorgeous. His hair was disheveled, the stubble along his jaw darker with additional growth and his chest-- the lines of his body made my mouth water.

"Have you been awake long?" I asked hoping I hadn't drooled on him.

"Not long," he replied his eyes shy and focused at the same time. It was unsettling. I couldn't put my finger on what he was thinking. The shy smile I understood. This was new territory for us, it was intimate and the daylight filtering through the window made everything sharper. But the focus in his eyes, the intense inspection that he ran over me made goose bumps rise on my flesh.

"What are you thinking?" I asked finally.

His smile grew, more confident and more like the Keaton that I was used to. "I was just chastising myself," he said evenly, his eyes still focused on me. I watched him, liking the way I felt under his stare.

"Why is that?" I asked.

"I had you in my room and in my bed all night and not once did I kiss you properly," he said. I felt the air leave my lungs. Well, there was no way he was kissing me now. I could still taste the stale alcohol in my mouth and it was enough for me to keep him far away from me no matter how good of a kisser he was.

"Oh, well, that's a shame," I admitted.

"It really is," he agreed. Before I could register the movement he had me pushed back against the bed and was hovering over me. "I should really rectify the situation, don't you think?" he asked.

I shook my head fiercely and covered my mouth with my hand. "No. No, I don't think that's a good idea at all," I muffled out from behind my protective mask. I watched as he smiled, amused at my horrified expression.

"What's the matter, Quinn? Cat got your tongue?" he teased.

"You are wrong. Do you know that?" I laughed, turning my head to the side as he dipped his head down to kiss my neck. The warmth of his lips and the wetness of his tongue made me twist beneath him. My body didn't give a damn about our bad breath. It craved the connection and the heat that flooded me when he touched me.

"What about here? Is it okay if I kiss you here?" he asked, continuing on a path of kisses along my throat, and down to my cleavage.

"Yeah, that's okay," I sighed. I felt his smile against my skin. He knew he'd won and I was pretty much putty beneath him.

"You taste so sweet," he said, the vibration of his voice against me causing a pull from somewhere deep inside me. His mouth moved lower, brushing soft kisses along my collarbone. I couldn't stop the way my breathing picked up or the soft sigh that escaped me.

He kissed all reason straight out of my head.

What's more, he made me like it.

I moved my hands up his body, feeling every hard line drawing me closer. He ran his lips across my skin, his teeth teasing me, causing my body to arch against him. I heard his low throaty growl in my ear. ‘That sexy little moan of yours is going to be the death of me, Quinn,” he warned.

I hadn’t even realized I’d made a sound. I’d have to worry about being self conscious about it later, once he was done with whatever he was going to do to me. His hands slid up my sides, beneath my shirt and I welcomed his touch against my bare flesh. I quickly lifted my arms so he could free me of the fabric. I wanted to feel him pressed against me, craved it.

His knee moved between mine, moving them so that he could settle against me, pressing closer, taking his teasing seduction one step closer to promise. I was lost in the feel of him, lost in the sensation, lost in the low words he spoke as his mouth traveled over my body, across my abdomen, towards my hip.

The slam of the front door startled us both. “Honey, I’m home.” Keaton froze, his mouth still, rested just above the clasp of my jeans.

“Fuck,” he growled, laying his head against my stomach. “I really hate my brother.”

I laughed nervously. Surely he wouldn’t just barge into the room would he? “Keaton? Are you here? We’re going to be late. I was out with Lily. You have that thing this morning.” He rambled on from just outside the door. Keaton made no move to hurry.

“Um, Keaton, should you tell him you’re here?” I asked.

He looked up at me, unconcerned, drawing lazy circles across my skin with his fingertips. “Maybe he’ll go away,” he suggested.

“It doesn’t sound like it. Besides, I should probably get back to my room. I’m sure Lily is looking for me.”

He frowned, “I’m sorry. I’ll get rid of him.” I watched as he pushed himself off of the bed and sauntered into the living area. I grabbed my shirt and slipped it back on, feeling a tinge of doubt hit me as I searched for my shoes only to remember that they were still in the living room. My mind was racing with all of the things I’d be doing right now if Miles hadn’t interrupted. All of the things that I desperately wanted to do. With a stranger. Was I really cut out for what was essentially a one night, well, morning stand? Was I taking this whole not thinking thing a little too far? It was one thing to take a chance and another to just jump into bed and become a notch on someone’s bedpost. Someone who had admitted to me hours before that he talked women into meaningless sex all the time. Shit. That was me. I chewed my thumbnail and waited for him to return.

“He’s gone. I sent him down for coffee. Sorry about all that,” he said casually.

“It’s fine. I better get going. I’ll see you around later?” I asked, standing quickly, a little too quickly to play it cool. Keaton caught my elbow and pulled me to him.

“Hey there, what’s the matter? Why are you running out on me?” he asked quietly.

“I’m just going back to my room,” I said.

“Quinn.” He only said my name, but he was telling me that he saw right through me.

I didn’t know what to say so I just stared back at him.

“You’re freaking out on me,” he said.

“No I’m not,” I scoffed. Yes I was.

He held my gaze for a moment as if waiting for me to admit it. I wasn’t going to, but that didn’t mean he was going to let me off the hook. He stepped closer and my body reacted instantly to his proximity.

”I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t want to be with you. Everything in me wants you,” he said as he traced the back of his knuckles across my cheek. I felt desire swirl through my stomach and ache low in my core. “But we’re more than this would have been. I wouldn’t have let it get out of hand this morning. I meant what I said last night. This is different. Don’t over-think it, okay?” he said.

And just like that my nerves settled and my doubt disappeared.

“Okay,” I said.

He smiled, shy and genuine and a piece of my heart became his. I had no idea how to balance my temporary whims with my long engrained impulses, but both sides seemed to be having trouble resisting his charms.

MY WEEK WAS
busy. I'd planned it that way. I liked making the most of these trips and interacting with as many people as I could. That was the point. But now all of my obligations felt more like chores. I should rephrase that. I was distracted. I was in this unfamiliar spot where I just wanted to follow a girl around like a little lost puppy and beg her to take me home. I know, I heard how that sounded. I saw how pathetic it was, but it didn't change anything.

The more time that I spent with Quinn, the more time I wanted to spend with her. It didn’t matter what we did. I could talk to her for hours and never be bored. I could sit beside her in silence and be perfectly content. I could kiss her lips until they were swollen or taste every inch of her body until she begged me to stop. It didn’t matter. Every moment with her made me want another one to follow.

Waking up with her this morning and seeing her hair sticking up and that sleepy look on her face as she rejoined the world had been nice. It’d had me wanting to spend the entire morning doing all of the things I’d missed out on doing the night before.

I wanted to play hooky again today and spend the day with her. But she had plans and I had responsibilities. It sucked. I'd made her promise to spend her evening with me. I was ready to plan the best date around. I was still new at this whole dating thing, but I wanted to impress her. I wanted to get dressed up and take her to a fancy dinner. Then, I wanted to lock her away in my room and not let her out of my sight. But that would have to wait. First I had to woo her. While I may not have a lot of hands on experience with this stuff, I had essentially written the playbook.

Then again, Quinn deserved more than a superficial, everyday date. I wanted to give her a story that couldn't be found in a book. I wanted to redefine what romance was. Fuck, I was cheesy. I hated assholes like me. It made me wonder if they had all had a moment like this. That turning point where they gave in and did all the cheesy shit they'd always ribbed their buddies about, the shit they'd laughed at and swore would never take them down. Was I just the latest one to take the fall?

Probably. But the way I saw it, if Quinn could open herself up this week and be someone else and venture away from her norm, then so could I.

I spent part of my day writing. I should have been working on stuff for Parker, but instead I was writing about the girl I'd left this morning. I wrote about her hazel eyes and the soft waves of her caramel hair. I wrote about how her laugh sounded like tinkling bells when she was tipsy on wine and the way she sighed softly when I kissed her. She was so clear in my mind that I wanted to get it all down on paper. If she was only mine for a week, I wanted to remember her to perfection. I wanted to immortalize her in words, paint pictures of her with my imagery and know that whenever I wanted to go back and remember this week, I could do it in full vivid color.

Quinn Ryan was the kind of woman that classic novels were written for. Even the greats would have reached for pen and paper to try and capture all of her complexities.

By the time I was dressed to pick her up that night, I was more than ready to see her. I even swung by and got her flowers. I'd never gotten around to asking her what her favorite was, but Miles had helped me out and I was kind of excited to surprise her. No, I didn't recognize me either.

I knocked on the door and waited. And waited. I was starting to wonder if I'd been stood up when the door swung open and Quinn stood there looking flushed, but beautiful.

"Sorry. I was . . . running late," she stumbled. Shit. She was stunning. She was wearing a dress, green, with thin straps and a skirt that flared out just a touch, landing just above her knee. It was simple, but elegant. I stood, stunned for a moment, before finding my voice.

"You wore green," I smiled. She smiled shyly. I knew she'd worn it just for me and it made my dick throb in a way that I hoped wasn't immediately evident. But man, she did things to me. "I brought you these," I said handing over the bouquet of white tulips, held together with a simple ribbon.

I heard the small gasp and warmed at the smile that followed. "Tulips are my favorite," she mused as she took in the scent of the petals. "I love them. They never last long enough though, a week or two and then they’re gone until the next year," she said softly almost as if she were talking to herself. I couldn't help but notice the small frown that crossed her face, but it was gone when she met my eyes. "Thank you. They are perfect," she smiled.

I waited as she found a makeshift vase and filled it with water, setting the flowers on the nightstand next to the bed. Her words echoed back to me,
they never last long enough.

I was starting to realize just how appropriate that was.