Start Me Up

by Victoria Dahl

  “Ven para mí, querida. Come for me now.”

  “No,” she muttered. “Not yet.” Relaxing her thighs, she let gravity push her more firmly against his thrusts. The new angle pressed his sliding cock against her clit, and Lori couldn’t stop her scream.

  “Bueno,” Quinn murmured even as he raised his hand to her face and covered her mouth with his palm. He took her like that, pressed against the wall, cries smothered by his strong hand, while Lori tried to tell herself that being ravished in a dark alley was not an admirable fantasy. Her sex told her to shut the hell up.

  Quinn quickened his thrusts. “Come for me, baby. Come.”

  Defiant, she shook her head, but when he began to growl in Spanish—words that sounded suspiciously foul and offensive and threatening—Lori felt her soul slipping down, down, down into pure sensation. Oh, God, she was going to come, and she wanted this to go on forever, didn’t want to let go of his muscled body and big cock. But her nerves had all tightened to the snapping point and she couldn’t back away.

  Just as he muttered, “Ah, fuck, I…can’t…” Lori’s sex clenched him hard, and she screamed into his skin as the night exploded into pleasure. His body shook and shuddered. His fingers dug into her cheek.

  Lori closed her eyes and let it all wash over her. The sound of people talking just a few yards away. The feel of rough cement against her back. Her neckline pulled taut beneath her breast. Quinn’s fingers pressed too hard to her jaw. And him…still tight inside her body.

  This was sordid. Dirty. Wrong. Jeez, this was illegal.

  But every heartbeat pulsed happiness into the tired muscles of her body. Every breath shimmered inside her lungs. Her body sparkled. If she opened her eyes, she was sure she’d see light glowing beneath her skin.

  His hand slid down to her shoulder, and Quinn’s panted breath hitched against her neck. “Lori? Are you okay?”

  “God, yes.” Her voice was too raspy, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Uh, maybe that wasn’t quite the fantasy you had in mind.”

  “Jesus, maybe it was.”

  She thought she detected relief in his soft huff of laughter. “You’re okay?” He pulled away, his body sliding out of hers.

  Lori unhooked her ankles and slowly lowered her feet to the ground, but she held tight to his arms until her legs stopped shaking. Her skirt fell conveniently back into place. “That was…”

  Quinn rested his forehead against hers. “Please say something good.”

  “Hmm. Well, how was it for you?”

  “It was…Lord, it was…good.”

  “Just good?”

  He cursed under his breath. “Am I allowed to say it was amazing? I feel too guilty. I shouldn’t have done that. But it was spectacular.” He nodded. “And wrong.”

  Lori laughed and pulled him down for a quick, hot kiss. “It was spectacular and wrong. I’m glad we agree.”

  “Perfect. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m still at risk of being arrested.”

  While she chuckled, Quinn turned away. She heard him zip his pants and watched as he looked around for a garbage can. It took a moment before she realized she had her own cleaning up to do. The panties that were hooked around one ankle had twisted under her heel, and while she had been feeling pretty adventurous, she wasn’t daring enough to put them back on and find out what kind of disease a dirty girl could catch from an alley floor.

  Lori kicked off the black lace and crumpled it up to stuff into her purse. She popped her breast back inside her dress where it belonged and tried not to picture what she’d looked like a few seconds before.

  When she pushed away from the wall, she weaved a bit but finally found a bit of strength left in her knees. The strength must have migrated from somewhere around the region of her heart, because it felt suddenly lonely. A tinge of embarrassment made itself known. Her cheeks flamed.

  My God, had she really just done it in an alley a few feet from the innocent patrons of Andalucia? What if someone had heard them? Maybe someone had.

  Lori grabbed her purse from the ground and dusted it off. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He approached out of the dark. “Did you spot a surveillance camera or something?”

  Her gasp echoed against the masonry blocks. She glanced frantically around.

  “Well, don’t look up, for God’s sake. Haven’t you ever watched America’s Most Wanted? Now they’ve got a full face shot.”

  “What?”

  “Lori, I’m teasing you.”

  She fought the urge to stomp her foot in frustration but didn’t quite succeed. “Can we just go?”

  She grabbed his hand and jogged as best she could in heels, pulling Quinn out onto the street. Here it was still the deep blue of late dusk. The streetlamps blinked on as she stole a furtive glance around. No crowd had gathered, and there didn’t seem to be blue and red lights flashing closer in the distance.

  Quinn murmured, “Look at that. Scot-free.”

  “Hey,” she snapped, relief adding fuel to her frustration. “You’re the one with the professional reputation to protect. I’d think you’d be more nervous.”

  The smile he turned on her oozed self-satisfaction. “Don’t be silly. I’m Aspen’s most eligible nerd. When I do it in an alley, sleazy is just plain sexy.”

  “You…” she stammered. “You’re…”

  Quinn leaned down and kissed her, cutting off her outrage pretty effectively. His tongue swept all the embarrassment away and made her strain toward him.

  “Feel better?” he breathed against her lips.

  “Almost.” She put her own tongue to work to shut him up. Jeez, they’d had sex just minutes ago, but she was ready to do it again. Now. In the alley. In his car. In her truck.

  Her truck.

  Lori broke away and glanced at her watch. Nine-thirty. “Crap. I’ve got to head back over the pass.”

  Though he sent her a dark look, Quinn didn’t argue. Instead, he walked her through the dark, the same path they’d taken earlier in the evening, but so much more intimate now. His long fingers curled loosely around hers, fingertips brushing a secret caress against her thumb.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I had no reason to get mad.”

  He glanced at her, his profile a darker shadow against the sky. “No, there was no reason. I was there with you because I wanted to be. If I wanted that woman so much, I would’ve kept dating her.”

  She nodded.

  “You know, Lori, we’re from the same place.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Damn it, if something like that had happened to me, if my parents had needed me, I would’ve been in the same spot. We’re from the same place. Your dad ran the garage, and mine ran the feed store. We both worked hard and we both had a plan. And then something terrible happened to you. That’s the only difference between us.”

  “I suppose.” Lori sighed. “But it’s a big difference.”

  “Is not,” he countered, making her smile.

  “Regardless, it’s not a reason to act like an insecure shrew. I apologize.”

  “You know,” Quinn drawled, “if yelling at me makes you want to get your freak on, I might be able to tolerate it.”

  “Yelling at you does not make me horny. And I didn’t yell.”

  “Mmm. But you did get very mad. And your cheeks got all pink. And your chest started heaving.”

  “I think me being mad makes you horny.”

  “I think you’re right. Wanna fight again?”

  Lori chuckled past the wave of desire that washed over her. “If I had the time, yes. Definitely. I might even knock you around a little bit.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  They were already at the entrance of Quinn’s parking lot and, God, she didn’t want this to end. And if it had to end tonight, she wanted to pick it up tomorrow.

  Damn it.

  Lori groaned, “I can’t,” as she stopped next to her lavender half-ton pickup
. “I put Molly off until tomorrow, but I can’t do it again. I’m meeting her at The Bar.”

  “What time?” Quinn asked immediately.

  “You can’t come!”

  “I’m not going to come crash your girl party. What kind of loser do you think I am?”

  “A horny one?”

  “Ha! No, I was thinking I’d be a horny stalker instead, and come see you after your date with my sister.”

  “Yeah? You’d make a booty call in the middle of the night?”

  “Yes, I definitely would.”

  She leaned against her truck and smiled up at him. “Mr. Jennings, where in the world is your dignity?”

  Quinn frowned and made a show of patting his pockets. “Damn, I must have left it in that alley back there. I saw some dignity on the ground near the Dumpster, but I thought it was yours.”

  “Asshole.” She tried to kick his shin as she laughed, but he’d stepped too close to give her any room. Still, it was easy to forgive him when he feathered a kiss over her temple.

  “I’m going to Vancouver in a couple of days. Come with me?”

  Her smile froze as a band of shock wrapped itself around her lungs and slowly tightened. “Vancouver?” she wheezed.

  “It’s a beautiful city. Have you ever been?”

  She shook her head, hoping the movement wouldn’t set it spinning.

  “I’m speaking at a conference on Monday, but I can free up the whole evening to show you around.”

  Pictures of Vancouver flashed through her head at blinding speed. It was a beautiful place. Not as exotic as most of her dreams, but she’d love to go.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, shaking her head again. “I can’t.”

  His shoulders sagged. “Are you sure?”

  No. Her eyes prickled, so she glanced up at the sky to stop any tears before they started. “I’ve got the garage. I can’t get away without planning.”

  “Damn. We’ve never done it in Canada. I thought I’d try to pick up a little French along the way.”

  Lori forced a wide smile. “You pick up the French. I’ll buy the Moosehead. We’ll meet back here on Tuesday.”

  “Deal.”

  She ducked her head under his chin and pressed her cheek to his chest. His heartbeat vibrated through her, thumping loud enough to chase away her sadness. “But keep your phone turned on in the meantime. I just might need you to drop everything and come running in the middle of the day.”

  “Anything you say.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE BLACK SHADOWS of lodgepole pines flew by Lori’s open window. She was driving too fast, risking a run-in with a deer or, God forbid, a moose, so she forced her foot to ease off the accelerator but reached for the volume knob on the stereo at the same time and twisted it up.

  The wind eased a bit, but the bass of angry old-school Liz Phair kept her frustration fed as she sped down the pass.

  Vancouver. She wanted to go, wanted to stroll onto a big plane and drink champagne with her lover as they blasted across the sky toward another country. Canada wasn’t exactly Timbuktu, but it wasn’t Tumble Creek, either. She wanted to fly away for just a few hours.

  But she couldn’t.

  She’d realized a distasteful truth about herself the year before. Lori Love would date for travel.

  An imaginary movie clip played through her mind. There she was, standing at an intersection in short shorts and crop top, waving a handmade sign that said just that: Will date for travel! The dot of the exclamation point was a little happy face. Hearts danced across the poster board. Her ass jiggled when she bounced.

  Yes, she would date for travel. In fact, she’d done it already.

  When she’d first met Jean-Paul, she hadn’t realized who he was. As far as she’d known, he’d been simply a handsome, older European man with a keen knowledge of cars. He’d also been driving the most beautifully restored Aston Martin DB6 she’d ever seen.

  Jean-Paul had pulled into her garage by happenstance, troubled by a slow leak in his front tire. After they’d spent a half hour chatting, he’d asked her out, and Lori had been so surprised she’d said yes, regardless that she’d been only mildly curious about him.

  Mysteriously, that mild curiosity had developed into a month-long relationship. Though she’d demurred every time he’d invited her out on the town, she’d spent the night at his place half a dozen times. She’d slept with him more often than that, retreating to his bedroom after a dinner prepared by his private chef. Jean-Paul had been smart and interesting, and more than decent in the sack. And he’d also asked her to accompany him on a trip to Greece within a week of their meeting.

  It hadn’t been a conscious decision on her part. She hadn’t said to herself, “I will sleep with Jean-Paul D’Ozeville because he’s going to take me to Greece.” She’d never have had sex with the man if she’d realized she was only interested in him for his private jet and well-used passport.

  But then Jean-Paul had broken the news that Greece would have to wait, something had come up and he couldn’t go until the fall. And Lori had been angry. Not disappointed, but angry. She’d made an excuse to get out of his bed at one in the morning and go home. Not her finest moment.

  It had taken her a few days of avoiding his calls to realize why she didn’t want to see him. She wasn’t mad anymore. She was just…no longer interested. Not interested unless the man was going to fly her away to Greece within the next month.

  Lori sighed at the memory, her stomach knotting itself with anxiety as she passed the road that led to her father’s land and drove into the outskirts of Tumble Creek. She knew the exact source of each light that shone through the dark, even the ones set far off the road. Knew each house and workshop, even if she wasn’t familiar with every person inside. This was her home, it always had been, and it would be her home until she cleared her own path out of it.

  The relationship with Jean-Paul had taught her that, at least. She had to do it herself. It was too easy to mistake desperation or greed for more genuine feelings. Too easy to use sex as a resource. She’d cheapened herself and lied to both of them in the process.

  What she had with Quinn was real, at least. It was real lust and she’d already disclosed her sexual greed. They were equals in this game, and she wasn’t going to let herself fall into the role of the cheap mistress again.

  But regardless of her big ideals, it had still been hard to say no to Vancouver.

  She’d have to try out a poor man next time she decided to use a man for sex, because her scruples were just a bit too mushy in this area. And she never, ever wanted to wake up to the realization that she’d slept with another man for the cost of jet fuel.

  As she pulled into her lot, Lori was so absorbed in those depressing thoughts that she had nearly turned all the way into her parking space before her brain registered something amiss.

  The shadows on the two bay doors of the garage looked…odd. Distorted. And her headlights picked up flashes of reflected light on the ground as she swung around.

  Shaking her head, Lori jumped out of her truck and slammed the door. The floodlight between the two bays was out, so that might be the explanation for the strange streaks of darkness twisting across the doors. Lori was walking closer when her heels crunched against something sharper than gravel. She froze and looked down at shards of broken glass that winked moonlight at her.

  The eerie feeling of something out of place was replaced by alarm. Lori took a step back and spun in a slow circle. No dark figure loomed nearby. Everything else looked normal, so Lori raced back to the truck for a flashlight.

  The bright beam revealed a swath of glass shards trailing across the gravel that led to the bay doors. She swept the light higher and gasped so loudly that her own voice echoed back at her.

  What she’d thought were twisted shadows were, in fact, deep dents in the metal doors. It looked as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to them. The floodlight hung from the wall by its wires, the thick glass bulbs shat
tered just like the windows of the garage doors.

  The flashlight slipped in her hand, nearly falling to the ground. She was holding it too tight, sweat making the grip slippery, so Lori switched it to the other hand and reached into her truck for her phone. The light beam shook.

  Of course, the wind chose that moment to pick up. Something slid across the ground a dozen feet away. Likely just a plastic bag or dead leaves, but the adrenaline rushing in her veins insisted it was something dangerous. Lori pressed her back against the open truck door and swung the flashlight wildly around the lot. The sweeping beam caught shadows and then dropped them, creating movement where there was none. Her panicked breathing grew so loud she was sure someone could walk straight up to her and she’d hear nothing but her own fear.

  “Calm down.” Her words trembled, so she repeated the admonition. “Calm down.” Her brain ceased spasming long enough to insist that she get back in her truck, so Lori did just that. As soon as she’d shut and locked the door she felt better. And she felt downright safe once she’d restarted the engine and switched on the high beams.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “You’re okay. No one’s here.” Not that she was taking any chances. Lori dialed 911 and held her breath until a male voice answered.

  “This is Lori Love of Love’s Garage. Someone broke into the garage. Or maybe just vandalized it. I don’t know.”

  “Are you still at the site?”

  “Yes.” She recognized the voice of Ben’s newest officer, the one assigned to dispatch until he racked up some seniority. She wished it were someone a little older and more experienced.

  “Okay, are you somewhere safe?”

  “I think so.” A faint crackle of voices came over the line.

  “I’m dispatching officers right now. Tell me where you are, so they don’t mistake you for the trespasser.”

  She nodded. “I’m in my truck in the lot.”

  “Can you see the suspect?”

  “No. I don’t think anyone’s here. I don’t know. Should I check? I didn’t think—”

  “No, stay in your vehicle. The officers should be there any moment.”