Love Me Crazy Page 7

  “In so many ways, for so many reasons, I’d love to.” His gaze casts to the sand as he leans his elbows on his knees. “But really,” he says as he looks at me with hooded eyes, “she shouldn’t be the reason you won’t go out on a real date with me.”

  “A date? No. That’s definitely not going to happen.” I dip my chin, allowing my hair to hide my face from his inspection. “I leave in a month. Let’s leave things the way they are. You on your side of the line, me on mine.”

  “I believe we already crossed that line, Cassidy.”

  And I’m a goner. Lost, right there in his eyes, on a beautiful beach at sunset, waves in the background. So. Far. Gone. “Uh, that probably shouldn’t happen again.”

  “Probably,” he says. “But might.”

  Oh. Dear. God.

  His phone chirps and he reaches into his pocket to retrieve it. “Looks like spoons starts up in a bit. Want to play?”

  “Spoons?”

  “A Covington tradition, me and my sisters around a table playing cards and stealing spoons. And there may be liquor involved. How about it?” He offers the kindest smile and—though it’s probably the sun’s reflection I see in his eyes—a twinkle that has me nodding yes. What is my problem? Have I no control?

  I rise but he whisks me into his lap before I have the balance to fend him off. His arm weaves around me and I have no choice but to go with gravity and fall into him.

  “Just five more minutes,” he says.

  Last time I agreed to this, his hands ended up in my panties. “Okay. Just five.”

  I thought it would eventually feel awkward, sitting in his lap like that, his arms around me and me inhaling him so I could memorize his scent for later, but it didn’t. He felt warm like sunshine yet cool like a breeze. He felt safe, and for the full five minutes I allowed myself to dream outside of my own rigid set of rules–and Mrs. Covington’s. Him keeping his hands to himself this time also helped.

  I stare at him across the dining room table back at the Covington homestead, Annabeth to his right, another girl to his left. Ellie beside her. Kat and her friend Wes sit on either side of me to make sure I know what I’m doing. Everyone keeps stony-faced gazes on their own cards or the spoons, nothing else. They take this game way too seriously.

  I pick up the card slid to me. I can’t use it, so I pass it on to Ellie. She grabs a spoon. Everyone jumps to their feet. Chairs overturn as they scramble for a spoon. Nails claw, words fly, and I’m scared shitless to reach my hand into the battle.

  “Yes!” Annabeth slams her plastic spoon down. She glances at me. “Oh, you lost again?”

  “Yup.”

  Kat pours me a shot. Another shot. I lost count on how many, but the buzz in my ears and the blur in my eyes makes me pretty confident I’ll feel like ass tomorrow. I dump back the shot and throw my cards in with the others.

  Kat leans over. “Watch the spoons, not the cards. Get in there, girl.”

  Get in there? Is she crazy? “When am I out?”

  “When you spell the word ‘drunk.’” Annabeth deals the next round and makes an extra effort to lean across Quinn.

  I can’t tell if her interest in him is purely lust or if there’s something more. If they had something he left behind but should rekindle. She’s completely different with him than with anyone else. Soft, gentle, but still kind of bratty. She’s like those monkeys who need preening and constant physical contact in some manner, all the time. High maintenance if you ask me. But no one has.

  “Please tell me I’m out.” I lean into my hand.

  “Well . . . yeah, but we started you over. You’ve spelled ‘drunk’ twice.” Ellie scrunches up her nose in apology.

  “I think I’ll take a break.” I push back from the table. The leg catches in the rug. I snap forward, pawing for the edge of the table but miss it. The chair tips backward and my head bounces off the floor like a volleyball.

  “Cassidy! Are you okay?” Kat grabs my hand.

  Wes grabs the other and they try to right me, but the chair has my knees up, my dress down around my hips and my brain teetering on the edge of giving up. It’d be easier just to pass out and regain my pride tomorrow.

  Quinn grabs the chair arms and hoists me and the chair to our feet. He puts his hand to my cheek. “You okay?”

  “So drunk I didn’t feel a thing,” I lie. I rub my head and wince when I find a lump.

  “Come on, I’ll get you some ice.”

  Instead of letting me follow, he cradles me in his arms and carries me from the dining room. He sets me on the counter in the dark kitchen and opens the freezer.

  He pulls out an ice pack, massages it, then holds it against the back of my head. “Party’s over?”

  “For me. You go ahead. You were on a winning streak.” Him and everyone else.

  “I’m winning right here.” He spreads my knees apart.

  I push my dress down between my thighs to hide my lack of undergarments. His lips push up on one side and I try not to look. Try not to enjoy how tempting they are. He leans between them and reaches his arm around me to hold the icepack to my head. I’m about to take it and hold it between my legs, because, oh my God, he’s making me hot. Making me think about doing deliciously bad things. Such as how I’d like to lick him like the popsicle I saw in the freezer.

  He goes out of his way to hold the ice pack to my lump and leans toward me until our faces are a breath apart. Six inches of empty space I’d like to fill with him but don’t see any way in hell why that should, would, or could happen. Especially after what we did on the patio.

  Another instance of reckless abandon like that and he’s liable to expect more than I’m willing to give. Besides the fact I’m seeing three of him, there’s his ex who obviously has an agenda, and, the bigger reason, his mom. Workplace ethics, my ass. She set me up for failure making me stay here.

  “Feeling better?”

  “It’s a start.” I lower my gaze to his lips. The ones that kissed me so tenderly under the magnolia, glisten as he sweeps his tongue across them. I sigh and catch myself mirroring his motions, licking my own lips and leaning closer.

  His arms wrap around me tighter, squeezing me against him, melding us together. His lips part, allowing my tongue to meet his. They collide and twist around each other, much like the brambles on his arm.

  My hand reaches for his waist. He pulls me to the edge of the counter. I draw in toward his hips, wanting nothing between us, no more obscurity, no more guessing. And no more damn clothes.

  He moans, pressing hard against me. I reach back, leaning into my elbow to compensate for his demanding craving, skin heating from his, head freezing from the icepack he still holds in place. He turns his head. His hurried breaths sound in my ear.

  “I don’t think you should stay alone tonight,” he whispers.

  “Right. I might have a concussion. I probably should . . .”

  He nods, rolling his head against mine as if he’s trying to hold back, forcing himself to keep his lips off me. “Stay with me.”

  “Is that on doctor’s orders?”

  He glances behind him at the door and my heart lands in my feet like a solid block of ice. The thought of being discovered weighing on my mind, but the liquor I’ve consumed delays my ability to fully think through the consequences.

  He scoops me up like before and pushes through the kitchen door. He mounts the first step.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.” But convince me we should.

  “Specify.” He takes several more steps. “Because that kiss was pretty intense and I’m about due for another. You?”

  “Or something,” I mutter as the icepack slips and hits the floor, because I’m so ready, but not about to admit it.

  He sets me on my feet and I reach down to pick it up.

  He tugs me around and into him, pinning my hand behind my back. “This isn’t a bad idea.” The deep undertones in his voice send a fever frenzy rolling through me. “Someone has to look out for you t
onight.”

  “I’m drunk.” Poor excuse. “Maybe I’m not thinking straight.”

  “I hardly taste any liquor on you.” His gravelly voice wakes my insides, sending heat striking like lightning between my legs. “What’s two plus two?”

  “Twenty-two,” I answer.

  “See? Totally lucid and sarcastic. You would’ve answered right if you were drunk.”

  Dang, he’s right. Didn’t see that coming.

  “Stay with me tonight.”

  I hesitate, wanting to say no, wanting more to say yes. “Just tonight.”

  His eyebrows perk and I swear the heat between us doubles. “Let’s decide that tomorrow.”

  I nod and head up the stairs where the bedrooms are located. I hope I can find his without looking like an idiot.

  He grabs my waist and I squeal as I fall to my knees and nearly whack my head on a step. He leans over me and wraps his hand over my mouth. “Shhh.”

  I pull his hand down and roll to my ass. “Then don’t attack me when I’m trying to come off as sexy.”

  “You are sexy.” He kisses my lips, sinking into me, his knee dropping between my legs. “Now about the coming part . . .” Elbows on either side of my head, he nibbles my lip, drops kisses on my chin, down my throat.

  A burn for him spreads through my body. If he wants to do me right here, I’m game. My moan comes out like a freaking purr. And as if sounding like a cat isn’t enough, I arch my back away from the steps and push my breasts toward him. Totally on hypnotic remote control.

  His breath heats the thin silk separating us, sending my nipples spiking hard.

  “Mmmmm, that makes me hungry.” He kisses the perky tip through my dress then pulls it and my strapless bra down to expose his new favorite toy.

  His tongue’s wet warmth triggers my hips to jolt forward. It’s like I’ve thrown all my self-control over the banister and it’s sitting shattered all over the foyer. I’ll never piece it back together now. Not that I want to at the moment.

  I tuck my pelvis, inching away from him but hating the disconnect. He leans to the side, adjusting his weight and massages his free hand across my other breast, squeezing then pinching at my nipple. He rocks into me, hard and ready, straining to get out of his pants as much as I’m straining to get in. His throaty groan vibrates against my skin triggering wetness between my thighs. He traces lazy circles around my navel. I bite my lip in anticipation, wanting to inch up my dress so the contact is real.

  His kisses track down my center, following the same trail he’d made with his hand. “Shit, Cass. You’re so fucking wet and wearing no panties.”

  I smile. “Would you like me to run and grab some?”

  His fingers dig into my hips, answering my question with desperation. He runs his thumb over my clit, which sends me spiraling into stars-ville with fireworks waiting in the wings. The heat from his lips permeates the silk and before my next breath, he flips up my dress and spreads my legs, entering sacred territory.

  I grab the step below me and dig my fingers into the carpet to avoid screaming out as he tongues around the top and strokes my insides with his adept fingers. My head falls back as I reach for the orgasm threatening to ignite the fireworks.

  A light flickers on the landing above, altering the darkness. I grip Quinn’s hair, pushing him away. Holy crap, if anyone sees, I’ll die a million and ten deaths and dig a grave for each.

  Quinn glances at the light, then kisses my inner thigh, lower and lower still. His tongue traces my sensitive lips and I grit my teeth to avoid screaming out. He strokes me with his fingers, enters one then two, massaging the magic spot while his tongue dances across my clit.

  I smack my hands down on the steps and press my lips together, muffling a pleasure-cry as he pushes me near the edge. Sparkling bliss lights me on fire. I rock my hips forward, wanting him deeper as my insides milk free an orgasm. He reaches up and squeezes my breast, thumbing over my nipple.

  I tilt my head back and gasp for air, bucking forward to force him deeper. Expert fingers. Expert tongue. God, all I need now is his expert cock.

  I bite my lip to keep from huffing too loudly as he pushes me off the edge into a ravine of pulsing pleasure from his decadent multitasking. Decidedly pleased, I melt against the steps. Quinn wanders up my body, pressing kisses against the spots he’d missed going down.

  Footsteps paddle down the hall. Eyes on mine, Quinn stills. We both hold our breaths until a door clicks shut.

  “Shh.” He points up.

  I gasp for air.

  “Go,” he directs.

  “Are you nuts? No way.” I slide down a step on my ass, barely able to move because I’m numb from ecstasy. My dress goes up in back and a whole new plethora of sensations brush over my skin.

  “You’re staying with me.” He stops my descent with his knee.

  “I’m not getting caught.”

  He slips my shoes off and holds them out. “Either I carry you or you get moving. We can make it to my room before they come out.”

  “No.” I kick off my shoes and clutch both in one hand, grab the railing to stand and yank my dress back into position.

  Seconds later, I’m hanging over Quinn’s shoulder and he’s climbing the stairs. We hit the landing just as the bathroom door opens. He freezes and I pinch his side to put me down.

  “Hey, sis,” he says.

  “Cassidy?” Kat says.

  I wish he’d spin me or put me down. We’re caught anyway, at least on my feet I can defend myself, instead my ass is hanging out and supplying nothing to the conversation other than a focal point.

  “She was, er, dizzy after hitting her head. Might need to, uh—”

  “Seriously, don’t want to know,” she interrupts. “I saw how you carried her off. Made me so nauseous I had to go to bed. I think I can figure out what happens next.” Her feet clop down the hall. “FYI, Cassidy, no screaming. The housekeeper tells Momma everything.”

  “Thanks,” I squeak. I beat my fist against Quinn until he stands me up. “Oh my God. That was so embarrassing. She’s going to tell—”

  His lips close over mine as his fingers undo the final two buttons holding him together. He pulls away and shakes off his shirt. I wind my hands around him testing his skin like a hot stove. I stretch my fingers wide, massaging his back, pulling him closer, finally getting what I’ve been longing for: Quinn unhindered.

  He picks me up and I drop my shoes to wrap my arms over his shoulders and twine my fingers through his dark hair. I wrap my legs around his waist as we head down the hall, knocking against the furniture and the walls. He throws open a door and presses it closed with my back. “Cassie, God, I want you.”

  “Now works for me.” I unwind my legs and reach my toes toward the floor. “Beds are overrated.”

  He backs away, releasing me and I reach around my back to unzip my dress. “No, Cassie, our first time won’t be like this.”

  “What?” I want to smack him upside his head. “You said—”

  “Shhh; ladies aren’t hostile.”

  “Maybe tonight I’m not a lady.” I cross my arms.

  He drags his finger over my lips. “Mmm, I know. You’re all woman. Sexy, curvy delicious woman.” He licks his lips and oh, God, the thought of him going down on me again . . . or me going down on him. Me tasting how delicious of a man he really is.

  I part my lips, suck his finger in, and tease it with my tongue, wanting to be all his woman and him all my man. For one night only.

  I nip his finger and reach for the button on his pants. They undo easily and I pull the sides apart making the zipper sing in the dark. I work his pants over his firm ass, then push him toward his bed. He kicks one shoe off, the next, and shakes off his pants. I lightly claw my fingers down his chest, then latch onto his boxers, dragging them down before he sinks onto the bed. I grab a pillow and toss it at his feet.

  “Cassidy,” he growls. “You don’t—”

  I spread his knees and lower slowly
between them, making sure to sweep his cock with my breast. I grip his thighs with my hands. He falls back against the bed, moaning. I stroke his smooth six pack, feeling each muscle bundle up one side, then down the other.

  The heat from my breath dances around his erection. It pulses in response, reaching toward me. I lick my lips, wetting them so they’ll glide over his cock. I lower over him, taking him into my mouth, refusing to go deep until he’s begging.

  I drag my tongue up one side, down the other, massaging him in figure eights. I add my fingers to the mix, gripping the base with one hand and massaging him lower with the other.

  “Fuck, Cassie. That’s . . . heaven.”

  I plunge deep over him, taking him fully. His cock jumps against my tongue and tightens. I pull off. “I’m going to tease you until you can’t take it.”

  “I already can’t.”

  “Not even close to done.”

  “But not this way.” He sits up and guides me to standing. “Turn,” he requests gently.

  I do, ready to have him completely, to have him fill me. He works my zipper down. I release my bra and relinquish my dress to the floor.

  He rises next to me and feathers slow fingers down my arm. Across my aching breast. Over my navel. He shakes his head. “So fucking beautiful.” He turns and flips back the covers. “Climb in.”

  I crawl across the bed and lay on my side, facing him. Going the lovey-dovey route. Whatever, as long as he joins the party sooner rather than later.

  He slips under the covers and pulls the sheet up to his waist. He stretches his arm across the pillows, and I lift my head to rest it in the bend. He slips closer and pulls me against him, holding me like I belong no place other than right here. It’s something new for me. I’ve been with very few guys since Preston. Lying here, relaxing isn’t part of the package. I get what I need and bolt. But tonight it feels right. Maybe it’s the post-orgasmic bliss, but lying beside him with his heat running parallel to mine, I feel safe. I drape my leg over his and slip my hand beneath the sheet to stroke him.

  His deep throaty laugh rocks the bed. “I said, not this way. I don’t want you regretting this in the morning.”