by Shae Scott
"Just getting to know you," I said.
"What do you want to know?" he asked, walking towards me. I held my breath, because his walk was predatory and I constantly felt like I was his prey. He brushed past me, close enough that our skin touched and the faint smell of his cologne tickled my nose. He went to the bed, kicked off his shoes and climbed on top of the covers. I watched as he propped a couple of pillows behind him and leaned back. Then, he held out a hand in offering. To me. To come to his bed.
"What?" I asked. Like I didn't know what he wanted. I was buying time.
"Come snuggle with me," he said.
"Snuggle?" I questioned.
"Yes, snuggle. I feel like snuggling. And this bed is insanely comfortable. Come here."
I took a step towards him, my brain going back and forth. Logic. Live. Logic. Live.
"Quinn," he said, breaking through the mind clutter.
Live.
I climbed onto the bed and into the little nook he'd made for me. You know how you read books and they talk about how it's the perfect fit, like you were made to be right there? It happened. It felt just like that. I took a deep breath, inhaling his scent and feeling a little drunk on the tingles it left behind.
"See, this is nice," he said as he pulled me tighter against him.
"This bed is really comfortable. If I had this bed at home I'm pretty sure I would never leave it," I admitted.
"Who says we have to leave it?" I felt his smile as he pressed his lips to the top of my head.
"I'm pretty sure that housekeeping would kick us out eventually," I laughed.
"That could get awkward," he agreed.
We fell silent as his hands moved in slow circles across my back. It was soothing and arousing at the same time. It was an odd sensation.
"I have more questions," he said finally.
"More? I'm pretty sure that you've gone through them all at this point," I laughed.
"Oh, no, I could keep this up for ages," he laughed. I heard it echo through his chest, mixing with the sound of his heartbeat and it was instantly one of my favorite sounds ever.
"Fine, what do you want to ask now?"
"Tell me about your first kiss," he said softly. I smiled at the question, loving the way he made me want to tell him everything.
"Jason Wright. I was fourteen. He was a year older and he kissed me at the skating rink. It was wet and messy and I didn't like it at all," I laughed.
"Did you kiss him again?"
"Once. It wasn't any better. I thought everyone was crazy wanting to do it and I swore it wasn't for me."
"Poor bastard," Keaton sighed.
"What about you?" I asked.
"I was fifteen," he started. I lifted my head, looking up at him, surprised that he'd been fifteen. I'm not sure why I thought that was unusual. Maybe he wasn't always such a playboy.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing, I just figured you'd have been an early bloomer," I admitted putting my head back down against his chest.
"You mean you expected me to be a man whore even as a preteen?" He was teasing me, but I still felt bad about the assumption.
"Sorry. Go on," I urged.
"Her name was Jessica. I thought she was beautiful. She had this long blond curly hair that went all the way down her back. I thought she was amazing. I asked her to the homecoming dance and then kissed her on the dance floor," he said.
"Did you kiss her again?" I teased, asking the same questions that he'd asked me.
"A few times. Until she broke up with me to go out with the new kid at school. I was heartbroken," he sighed.
"Poor bastard."
He laughed.
"So, what's the worst thing you've ever done?" he asked.
I laughed, "Oh, so now you get to the good stuff, huh?"
"Go on, tell me," he pushed. He was having fun, back to his new hobby of researching me. I liked the way he dug for answers. And I liked that he let me ask the questions back. There was so much more to Keaton than I'd thought. He'd proven that to me countless times over the past few days.
"Well," I said, giving it some thought. "I had a phase where I stole things,” I admitted.
"You mean like you stole gum from a gas station or something?" he asked, clearly unimpressed.
"No, like I stole my friend's Cabbage Patch doll because my mom didn't get me one for Christmas and I didn't want to have to wait to get one."
Keaton laughed, his body shaking against me.
"You did not!"
"I did. And then I tried to convince my friend that I'd had one just like hers all along. It was hopeless," I said embarrassed.
"Wow, Quinn, that's horrible," he said trying to sound appalled. I wasn't worried, because he was still chuckling.
"I know. My mom found out and made me give it back and apologize. I told her I did. But really I just left it on my friend’s doorstep and pretended not to know anything."
"And here I thought you were some sweet angel growing up. You were practically running a theft ring. Are you sure you weren't looking for my wallet earlier?" I pinched his side and laughed when he yelped.
"Okay, Okay . . . I'm done.”
"You're turn, Mr. Perfect. Tell me about something horrible that you did. We have to even the score," I said.
"Well, I, on the other hand, probably have too many to choose from," he admitted.
"You can start small," I said.
"Alright, when we were kids we'd always spend a few weeks each summer at our grandparent's house. We always looked forward to going out to their place. They had this big field near the house where Miles and I used to play. We'd build forts and shoot bb guns at cans. We would play in that field for hours. It was the best.
“So, anyway this one particular summer we headed out to the field and found out they were clearing everything to build some new hardware store. We were pissed. There was a big tractor out in the field and they had all of those surveying markers up. So, we moved them. The flags. Some of them we moved a few inches, some a few feet. We thought it would stop them from building it. Then, we realized that the tractor they were using had the keys in it. At least it did when they'd gone home for the day. Miles threw them as hard as he could. I still wonder if they ever found them."
"Oh my God, You probably set them back days or weeks," I laughed.
"It was our field. We felt it was our duty to take it back."
"I support it. Bad seeds need to stick together."
"Oh, baby, you could never be lumped into the same category as me. Thievery aside, I’d still put you on the tame side," he pointed out.
"Says the man who I berated endlessly for days," I said. That felt like a lifetime ago.
"We both know that I deserved all of that," he said softly.
I moved to look at him, needing to see his face. "No you didn't. I didn't know you. I shouldn't have made assumptions." He traced a finger down my cheek and his eyes looked apologetic.
"That's just it. You were dead on with a lot of things, Quinn. That’s the truth. You want to know what the worst thing I've ever done is?" He swallowed hard, "I’ve used this job and my status to sleep with a lot of women."
I felt myself tense in his arms and his grip around me tightened.
"I know it’s not the nicest thing, but it’s easy and it felt good for a time, no strings, just pleasure," he said. I put my head down on his chest again, needing a break from the honesty in his piercing gaze. It left me with a rush of conflicting emotions.
He smoothed my hair and let his confession sit between us. I knew he slept around. I'd known that from day one. But as I got to know him I saw so much more than just a shallow man looking for his next conquest. I'd seen someone real, genuine, driven. I'd seen someone that moved me and had made me feel alive these last few days. Maybe I'd been fooling myself; maybe I was only seeing what I’d wanted to see. Had he seen something in my eyes that made him worry I was looking for more than this week? Was this his way of reminding me to stick
to my own rules?
"Like this, like us?" I asked quietly, the question escaping before I could think it through. I had no disillusions that this thing was going past Sunday, but I hated the idea of being a casual fling too.
"No, not like this," he answered quietly. "This feels different."
I relaxed against him, happy to hear him say that, even if it wasn't completely true. For now, I just wanted to pretend that it really was different.
I chose to believe him, because it felt different to me. And even if I knew the truth deep down, for now I was happy living in the moment.
I listened to his heartbeat beneath me, it's steady rhythm lulling me into a peaceful state. I felt the tug of sleep start to take me under and part of me wondered if I should get up and go to my own room. But then his arms wrapped around me and tucked me in close to him. I heard his breathing steady out into slow intakes and relaxed releases. It felt too good to be next to him so I snuggled closer and sunk into a peaceful sleep.
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 settle
d 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?
