“Wait, Trevor, I’m not—”
“Two.”
“Come on, what are you—”
“Three.”
And just as expected, her competitive nature takes over and she begins rushing through the cornfield, following the path laid by years of servicing plants. I keep close, letting her think I plan to catch up and race past her, but always one step behind.
When I know we’re close, I slow my pace, allowing her to take in the scene created just for her.
As I come into the clearing, I’m flabbergasted. I only requested a setup of the string lights I provided, a cooler, and a small stereo for music, but this looks like something out of a storybook. There’s a gazebo in the middle of the opening with lights strung between the posts and columns, illuminating the wooden structure and the space surrounding it. Inside the gazebo rests an ice-filled bucket on a bar stand with a bottle of champagne emerging from the top. And, almost awkwardly, a blown-up air mattress sits on the edge of the clearing in a darkened space. I suppose it’s a good night for stargazing, and I pray my parents and their friends had that in mind when they set this up.
“Trevor… this is… amazing. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I did this to give you a good memory here, something to remind you of all the good things in Dale City.”
Spinning around, she pins me with her brown eyes and a seductive smile spreads across her lips as she steps toward me, placing her hands delicately on my hips.
“Something good, like you?”
“You know, like Izzy, this clearing, growing up here… and yeah, me.”
“I always think kindly of my memories with you and your sister, and now I’ll have this amazing memory. Thank you.” She lifts onto her toes and presses her lips against mine.
This moment could easily turn into something more. It wouldn’t take much for me to sweep Quinn into my arms and haul her over to the mattress in the shadows, but I hold myself back. Instead, I rest my palms on both of her cheeks, and mimic her kiss before pulling back.
“Come on, I have something for you.”
I carry the bag in one hand while the other holds tightly to Quinn’s. As we step onto the wooden planks of the gazebo, I’m not surprised to find two wineglasses resting underneath the ice chest. I grab those and then snag the champagne bottle from its chilled container.
Releasing Quinn’s hand, I take a seat cross-legged in the middle of the gazebo and gesture for Quinn to do the same. With a twist of my body, I flick on the stereo, which is tune to the same pop station we were listening to in the car. Not my favorite type of music, but it seems to please Quinn so I leave it there.
“I bet you know some of these singers, don’t you?”
“Not personally, but I have run into them a time or two. I’m surprised you listen to this stuff. Doesn’t really fit you, if you know what I mean.”
“You’re right, I’m definitely more rock and roll, but I can deal with it in the background. Izzy was the last passenger in my car, which should explain the station choice.”
“Her silly rule that the person riding shotgun always gets control of the radio.”
I admire the long column of her neck as Quinn tosses her head back in laughter. Unfortunately, I spoil the moment when I add, “Yeah, Izzy and her stupid rules,” which has us both remembering Izzy’s teenage plea of us to not hook up.
“So, what’s in the bag?”
Thankful for Quinn’s change of subject, I pull out the small box and place it between us.
“Go ahead and open it up.”
As she lifts the top of the cardboard box, the heavenly aroma fills the air around us.
“Wow,” she murmurs as she stares openly at the mound of cake.
“It’s a molten lava cake. Mike assured me it’s the best in Houston,” I explain as I take out two forks from the bag. “Shall we?”
I spear my fork into the heaping mass and watch in wonder as the liquid chocolate pools out from the center. Scooping some onto my fork with the cake, I hold it out toward Quinn, offering her the first bite. She doesn’t disappoint. Her plump lips open and then wrap around the morsel, her tongue peeking out to savor the remaining chocolate on her lips as I pull the fork free.
Quinn lets out a rumbling groan as she tosses her head back and closes her eyes. Her body says it all—she’s in ecstasy. It takes every ounce of my self-control to keep from pouncing over this dessert and making her moan like that for hours. Alternatively, I scoop another mouthful onto my fork and hold it out for her to taste again.
“Mmm,” she moans as she quickly consumes the second piece of cake. “Aren’t you going to have any dessert?”
“Sweetheart, my dessert is watching you enjoy each bite.”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to turn it down.”
She finishes the cake after a few more bites, forcing me to eat a few as well, and sips her champagne.
“This is really beautiful. They should keep it like this all of the time.”
I have to agree, and I’m certainly going to mention it to the owners tomorrow when I thank them for setting it up. But I’m distracted by the small sigh that emanates from Quinn’s lips, her slight sound of resolution.
“What’s up, Quinn?”
“Nothing,” she replies, but I give her a skeptical glare, showing her I don’t believe a single word. “Really, it’s nothing.”
I know she isn’t being forthcoming, a trait I’m not fond of, but I leave her be. The song on the radio changes and it’s one I recognize: a song about childhood friends who become lovers and more. To me, the song reminds me of a modern version of “Wonderful Tonight” by Eric Clapton.
On instinct, I stand up with my glass and then take Quinn’s, placing both on the flat railing. I hold out my hand, and when she takes it, I pull her close and do something I never imagined I would get the chance to do with Quinn—we dance. It’s not artistic or theatrical, just a subtle sway to the music with our clasped hands resting on my chest, her head lying against my shoulder, my arm wrapped around her waist. It’s beautiful and perfect, and a memory I will never forget. Because even though Quinn will leave our lives with only promises to return, we’ll always have this.
The disc jockey must know on some level what’s blossoming in the gazebo because the song changes to another ballad about love, a profession of all the things I can’t say to the woman in my arms. I won’t hold her back or ruin her friendship with my sister; I’ve always cared too much about her to hurt her in that way, deprive her of the things she wants most.
Finally a commercial airs and we pull apart, the air changing around us, breaking our spell.
“Do you want to look up at the stars?” I ask. I don’t miss the look of disappointment in her eyes, but being the actress she is, Quinn hides it beautifully.
“Sure, just like old times.”
Yep, a time when you were only my fantasy.
The camping mattress is covered with a sheet of some sort, a quilt folded neatly at the bottom. For being out in an open field, the setup truly has a homey feel. And it’s perfect for tonight.
Quinn plops onto the mattress and begins laughing as it bounces her back and forth, even more so when I join her on the inflatable. After a few minutes of situating ourselves onto the bed, Quinn tucked perfectly beneath my arms and her body curling around me, we stare up at the crystal-clear sky. From here we’re far enough from the city that we don’t have the residual glow of the streetlights or airport, and Dale City is small enough that they don’t produce enough light to detract from the darkness of the night.
“Now that I’m here I realize how much I miss being able to see the sky like this. So open and free. Where I live in LA, you can barely make out any stars through the denseness of the fog. I have to go to the top of the building just to see the North Star. Everything else is dulled by the city lights.”
Wanting to take in her expression, I twist my head in her direction
. Quinn faces upward with a small smile angled on her lips. She looks… happy.
A softness brushes against my hand resting limply beside my body, and I almost startle until I recognize the dainty fingers as they link with my own. It reminds me of our last time in this very field, how I wanted so badly to make Quinn mine, but my sister was always more important to both of us. Just like she is now. But I can’t bring myself to tear our fingers apart. Instead, I hold her grasp like a lifeline knowing it’s one of the last moments we’ll have together before she leaves on Monday.
Her pert mouth opens in a gasp and then moves silently. A shooting star must’ve zoomed across the sky because it seems as though Quinn is making a wish and mouthing her little chant: “I wish I may, I wish I might….”
If I could wish for anything, I know for certain it’s that Izzy and Quinn’s friendship stays intact. Whether Izzy finds out about our little escapades or not, I know their friendship is meaningful to both of them.
Quinn must’ve finally felt my stare because she turns to look me, her face only a few inches away.
“Thank you for this, Trevor. This has been one of the best nights of my life.”
“You’re welcome. We should probably head back soon. I know Izzy will be excited to tell you all about her date.”
I start to move on the mattress, but a steady hand pins my shoulder to the bed, its strength surprising me. Her soft, supple body presses against my hardened muscles and I grow in need.
“Trevor, I want you to make love to me.”
“Here?” I ask, my voice cracking like a prepubescent teenager.
“Yes, here.”
My attempts to argue are futile because as she merges our lips together, something about her kiss possesses me and I lose all train of thought as to why this is a bad idea. Power inside me surges, and I flip us over so I’m resting on top of her delicate body. My hunger for her is overwhelming, and she seems equally as intoxicated with lust.
“How bad do you want me, sweetheart? You want me to take you here in the middle of the field?” I growl as I yank off my shirt and toss it onto the bed beside us.
“God, yes.” Quinn arches her back for me as I reach around to remove her shirt. I need to feel her, all of her, pressed against me.
We make quick work of our clothes and dispose of them on the bed next to us. By her heavy pants, I can tell passion is surging through her veins just as it is mine.
A warm breeze travels across our naked bodies, and in the dim light of the gazebo, I watch in fascination as goose bumps pebble across her skin and her nipples harden into inviting peaks. A craving to have them in my mouth is overwhelming, so I eagerly bend down and capture the seductive tip between my lips. I alternate between licking and sucking on the sweet skin until I have Quinn writhing beneath me, rocking her sex against my cradled thigh. I move to the other side and repeat the motion, bringing Quinn to her pinnacle but never over.
“You want more, Quinn? I could savor these sweet strawberries all night.”
She grips my hair, telling me without words how much she enjoys my play and how much more she wants. I let her bring my head up toward her face, where she kisses me almost sloppily, her body too revved to care about perfection. Her hips rock against my thigh, coating my leg in her heat, and I know she’s seeking something to get her off.
With a tug on her bottom lip, I pull back and leave a wet path of kisses and licks from her chest down to her navel. Resting one hand on her hip, I slide the other through her womanhood, her pussy soft and wet. With a gentle flick of my tongue, I give her clit the attention it deserves, and Quinn practically jackknifes off the bed. My movements are slow and steady, wanting to take my time memorizing each and every nuance to Quinn’s pussy. How every time I slide my tongue against her slit, she practically purrs in satisfaction, her muscles tightening around my finger and pulling me in farther.
I guide her closer to her orgasm until she falls over the edge, her nails digging into my shoulder as she cries out. Too lost in watching her come apart, I don’t notice as her hand travels across her hips and reaches for my cock. The groan that falls from my lips is deep and rich as she strokes my shaft a few times before aligning it with her center.
“I want to feel you,” she whispers as she removes her hand and leans up on her elbows to watch.
And fuck, if that isn’t sexy as hell, my girl wanting to watch me slide deep inside her.
I rear back and widen her bent thighs, spreading them apart as I align my cock with her sex. I want to take it slow, need to, but my craving is too great and I fill her completely with one thrust.
Quinn cries out, a mixture of pain and pleasure at my intrusion, but I can do little to stop. Quick and hurried, I guide myself in and out of her heated center. The animal inside me takes over and I plunge myself into her, marking her body with each thrust.
It doesn’t take long before the familiar tingling develops along my lower spine and my sack tightens almost painfully.
“Come on, sweetheart. I need you to come,” I beckon, wanting her to find her release before I let mine take control. Reaching down, I hold onto her hips as I pull away from her body, Quinn’s cry of protest weakening my resolve. With a twist, I flip her onto her stomach and tug her hips back, lifting them into the air. I stand from the mattress, planting my feet firmly on the ground and tug her hips back until she’s at the perfect height for my cock.
I slide into her sex again and Quinn moans as she pushes back, meeting my lunge.
“Fuck, you feel good this way,” I growl as I slap her perfect globe right at my hip. Her sex clenches as she barks out in pain.
“I’m going to come, baby. I need you to come.”
“Almost there,” she pants as she rocks back into me harder and I increase my speed. I slap her behind once more and her quivering muscles grip me tightly as she explodes from her orgasm.
My release follows closely behind hers, and I relish in the sight of my cum spilling from her slit as I slide free from her channel. Leaning over her relaxed body, I press a kiss between her shoulder blades as she lies weakly on the bed, her eyes closed but a smile on her face.
“That was amazing, sweetheart.”
“Mmhmm,” she sighs without opening her eyes.
Walking barefoot over to the gazebo, I grab the leftover napkins from our dessert and clean myself, then Quinn.
“All right, sweet girl, let’s get dressed. I should probably get you home,” I say as I notice the late hour on my watch.
Wrapping herself in the quilt, she rolls over and gestures for me to join her.
“Can’t we just stay a little longer?”
“Yeah.” I wrap her in my arms. “We can stay a little longer.”
Chapter Seventeen
Quinn
BLURRY-EYED, I REACH OVER to silence the alarm on my phone as it wails on the nightstand. It’s six in the morning, and Trevor and I stayed buried underneath the quilt out in the clearing until about midnight. Which isn’t late by any means, but my body was so completely relaxed and drained that I passed out once he set me in the car.
Unfortunately, it means I missed catching up with Izzy last night, and I know she was dying to tell me about her date with Vic. Hell, I’m dying to hear about her date with Vic.
I take note of her footsteps outside my door and know she’s heading into the kitchen for her morning cup of coffee. I quickly toss the blankets off my body and amble out of the room.
“Good morning,” I call out as I snag a mug from the cabinet and pour myself a cup of coffee before taking a seat at the table. “How was your night?”
Izzy stays silent, her eyes calculating until she takes a sip of her coffee and relaxes into her chair.
“It was great. Perfect, actually.”
“Oh, Iz, that’s awesome. I want to hear more.”
“How was your night? You came in really late.” She grabs a banana from the fruit basket in the middle of the table and then bends her leg up onto the chair.
“My night was really good. Trevor and I did some script reading, and then he took me to a brewery his friend Mike owns. I’m sure you’ve been there. The place was amazing, and they gave us a personal tour and everything.” I extend the truth, trying to cover up what we did the rest of the evening. “He took back roads I never even knew existed. The sky was beautiful.”
“I like that brewery. The food is really good.”
“I had the brisket and oh my goodness, it melted in my mouth.”
Izzy stays quiet, sipping on her coffee and nibbling her banana as she takes me in and weighs my words.
Finally she asks, “What do you plan to do today? I have to go in early for a staff meeting.”
“Oh, I’ll probably just hang around and memorize the script some more. Maybe venture downtown. Actually, do you want to meet for lunch? Trevor mentioned a good Chinese restaurant that opened a year ago.”
“Yeah, Chinese sounds good. Meet you at eleven thirty?” she asks as she stands from the table and disposes of her banana peel and empty mug.
“Sure, I can’t wait.”
I spend a few hours going over the script, trying to get a feel for the last scene, when I notice the time.
Piling into my old car, I feel a bit nostalgic. I bought the new-to-me Honda Accord with money I earned from my job at the veterinarian’s office in high school, using the remainder for my first apartment in LA. It carried me to California and back, and it would pain me to part with her. Everyone assumes that because I’m a celebrity, I must spend my money wildly, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Other than the condo I paid for, my money goes to paying my agent and publicist and the rest goes into a savings account. I’m not even sure how much is in there at this point.
The ignition starts when I crank the key, and I send a silent thank-you to the car heavens.
I smile at the driver of the tractor I pass as it travels down the road more slowly than I need. To my right stands the high school, which held such wonderful memories for me. With a sudden urge, I pull into the lot. For it being summer, I’m surprised to find cars in the front parking area, but I figure summer school may be in session so I ignore it.
Between the Lines Page 14
