Beyond Me Read online

Page 8


  "Don't you get it?" His voice shook. "You're too good for me, Quinn. Soon you're going to see it and leave. And I'll be the one left behind."

  Shock held me immobile, but he didn't wait for me to process. He slammed his mouth over mine in a fierce kiss. His grip gentled and he hoisted me up. I groaned and opened my mouth to his thrusting tongue, wrapping my legs tight around his hips as he ripped off my robe. I speared my fingers into his hair and pulled hard, and with a rough curse, he walked me a few steps until my back slammed against the wall. Our mouths drank hungrily from each other, biting, sucking, like two animals crazed to mate, and he must've grabbed a condom from his pocket, because I was suddenly sinking on top of him and he filled me completely.

  "Ahhh!" A cry ripped from my mouth. His cock was huge and thick, piercing right through my body and filling it up, until there was no space or thought or safe place from him. He held my hips and roughly guided me up and down, my head scraping the wall, my teeth biting deep into my lower lip and drawing blood. The sensations cut and wracked through my body like knives shredding flesh, and the pleasure became so fierce it was almost pain. My pussy clenched tight, and then I was coming, coming so hard and fast I thought I'd die with the agony of such release, and he was shouting my name and coming with me.

  He didn't let go, holding me tight, kissing me gently and caressing my cheeks, telling me I was beautiful and magnificent and that I was everything.

  And I knew something had changed. A portal had opened within my soul, and it was all for him, for as long as he wanted me. And I knew I was stupid for thinking we could work out, but I didn't care, so I held him tight and let him care for me, and pretended this was forever.

  Tuesday

  I MADE my way into the dining room, trying hard to walk normally, even though my muscles ached. Of course, this workout was tons better than any treadmill, and I couldn't wait to do it again. James had dropped me off at the hotel late last night, and we made plans to sightsee today.

  I scanned the crowd for my tribe and spotted them in the back booth. Mac's sunhat took up half the table with the elaborate brim, so I slid next to Cassie. Hmm, she looked tired, her gray eyes a bit too serious this morning, and not sporting the afterglow of someone who'd had great sex. Mac looked like her usual vivacious self. Maybe she scored with her hottie tattoo guy.

  I wondered if my crew would notice I finally had an orgasm. I felt different. Did I look different? Oh God, I was so lame.

  "You sure about that?" Mac asked.

  I picked up the conversation and the menu. "Sure about what?"

  "Cassie's fallen in love," Mac announced.

  "Oh. Good for her." Did I want an omelets or pancakes?

  "No, not good! He has another girlfriend."

  "Bastard." I turned to Cassie. "What are you doing messing around with a guy who belongs to someone else?"

  "I'm not messing around with him! I can't even get him to kiss me, let alone do anything more." Oh. Well, I couldn't get mad at her for that. "So, not a problem then." Yep, definitely carbs this morning. I deserved them.

  Mackenzie gave a long, dramatic sigh. "Problem. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. Nobody was supposed to fall in love."

  "I'm not in love!" Cassie hissed.

  "I don't think you can decide that kind of thing ahead of time," I pointed out. "Especially not for someone else." After all, I didn't know what was going on with James, but I'd never experienced such a strong connection before. I was done judging other people. "I think I'll have pancakes. With blueberries."

  "Do they have cheese grits here?" Mackenzie grabbed for the menu. "How about biscuits and gravy? And sweet tea?"

  Grits. Yuck.

  "This is the South. I wouldn't be surprised," Cassie said. "Just as long as there's orange juice, I'll be happy."

  "It's Florida," I said. "There'll be orange juice." I leaned back and got the rest of the dirty lowdown on Cassie and the guy she was attracted to but had a girlfriend. Damn, I wanted her to be able to enjoy herself and let go a little. We were alike, and found it harder to party and leave behind our worries. I urged her to find another guy to take his place, but she didn't seem too thrilled with the promise. Maybe James had someone I could introduce her to. Nah, I didn't care for his friends and wouldn't trust them with Cassie. Especially since she seemed extra paranoid about going around with strangers, citing date rape and all sorts of scary things. I had to remind them all again of their pinky promises to watch our drinks carefully. When I was finally satisfied, I settled into blueberry-and-carb bliss.

  Hot tattoo guy was named Austin, and worked as a bartender at Captain Crow's. Mac seemed pretty into him, but when I waited for the big reveal, she only said he'd let it slip that he knew who she was.

  "Your turn, Quinn," Mac demanded, shoveling grits into her mouth. For someone so damn skinny, she had a crazy appetite. "What happened with Ivy League Dude? Cassie said he followed you out of the bar and you gave him another chance."

  I wondered how much to spill. Who would've thought serious, shy little old me would be getting some before everyone else? I chewed frantically at my lip and tried to decide. Of course, I kept nothing from my best friends, so I found the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could snap them back.

  "We went sailing yesterday. I had an orgasm."

  Mac spit out her grits and choked. Cassie's eyes widened with admiration. I blushed.

  "Woot! That's my girl!" She high-fived me in the booth and glowed with satisfaction. "Was it amazing?"

  "Yeah," I sighed. "It was. Now I know what the fuss is all about."

  Mac pointed her fork across the table. "Remember, no love shit. Just sex."

  Cassie groaned. "What a nightmare. I'm not in love!"

  I shot her a sympathetic look. When Mac got on a tear, it was all over. "Sorry, Cass. Of course, the sex is off the charts, but he's completely opposite of anyone I imagined myself with. He flunked out of a bunch of Ivy League schools, has a ton of money, and spends his time throwing parties and travelling the world."

  Guilt nipped at my nerves. All of it was true, but I wasn't telling my friends the real stuff. Like how he held me tight, and stroked my hair, and whispered how beautiful I was. How he opened up and admitted there was something between us. How he showed his hurt and loneliness from not having parents or family who gave a crap. I opened my mouth to defend him, but Mac was already talking.

  "Who cares? We're here a week, as long as the sex is good and you like him, that's all you need. Anything else is a major complication, and you have enough of those at home, Quinn."

  "Yeah. I guess." She was right. I needed to enjoy every moment but try to keep my heart locked up. Falling for James would be a mistake that would get me nowhere but a lot of pain. I spent the rest of the time chatting with Mac. I couldn't help the worry that cut through me. If anyone realized she was America's country sweetheart, we'd be outed and stuck with public scrutiny. Exactly what we all didn't need. Cassie looked even more freaked out than me.

  "That's not good, Mac. What if he tells someone, or sells the story of you two?"

  Mac shook my head. "He won't."

  My brow furrowed. Mac had great instincts, so if she trusted him, I probably would. "You're sure?" I asked.

  Mac shrugged. "If he was going to sell me out, don't you think the pap would be here right now, snapping pics of me?"

  I peeked over her shoulder to check. Cassie stood up and searched the crowd, holding her hand over her eyes like a sun visor. "Just because he didn't yet doesn't mean he won't, you know."

  Mac raised her chin in pure stubbornness. "It's a risk I'm willing to take. I'm so freaking sick of being scared to live. I can't do it anymore. I won't. He might sell me out, but he might not. And I'm willing to take that chance, for the first time in a long time."

  I reached out and squeezed her hand. "And if he turns out to be a jerk, we'll kick his ass for you. Right, Cass?"

  "Right." Cassie cleared her throat. "No matter what,
we're here for you."

  Mac smiled and seemed to relax. The warmth of our friendship flowed over me, and I wondered again how I'd gotten so lucky. They were like my sisters, and I could always count on them. Again, my thoughts flashed to James. What would it be like to have no one in your life you could trust? Talk to? Laugh with?

  Mac sniffed. "I know. And I love you."

  I decided to break up the serious tone, so I twisted my face and dropped into my best Southern accent. "Now, now. Let's not go getting all mushy and lovey-dovey. This is a vacation. It ain't nothing but fun and games."

  Mac laughed. "Please. I don't even talk like that anymore. I stopped when I became famous because my agent didn't want me to be typecast as the little Southern girl."

  "Yeah, but it's still fun to do," I said with a grin.

  Cassie nodded. "It really is."

  We finished eating and discussed where we'd split up for the day. Mac's final words were like a promise and a threat, wrapping me up in a flurry of emotion I couldn't seem to untangle.

  "By the time this vacation is over, none of us will be the same. It's going to be legendary. You both just have to make sure you live it to its fullest, like I am. Promise me."

  Cassie looked doubtful, but I nodded in agreement. After all, I had gone too far to turn back now.

  I kissed them goodbye, reminded them to stay safe, and left to meet James.

  I WATCHED her walk toward me. She wore her dark hair loose, the straight shiny strands swishing across her shoulders, and those inky almond eyes peeking at me from behind her bangs. Today, she sported a pair of denim shorts, a simple white T-shirt, and brown leather sandals. No jewelry. Little makeup. And she blew me away more than a Victoria's Secret model shaking her ass on the runway.

  Quinn ducked her head as she got closer. I recognized the shyness of the gesture, but in seconds she'd pulled herself to full height and marched the last couple of steps. I loved the dual aspects of her personality, especially her strength, and my body lit up when my arms finally closed around her.

  "Hi," she said softly.

  I didn't respond. Just bent my head and kissed her slow and deep, reminding her of last night and our connection. I never exhibited such primitive behavior before, but I didn't care. I only knew I needed to mark her and make sure no other guy even sniffed around Quinn this week. She softened beneath my kiss and practically sighed in surrender. I wanted to drag her back on the boat and stay in the cabin, fucking her every way possible until sunset. If we hid away from the world, nothing would ruin this. Nothing would ruin us.

  But I promised to show her some actual tourists traps in Key West, and she deserved that.

  Slowly, I broke the kiss. Her lips were wet and ripe and inviting. Her tongue slid over her bottom lip as if to catch my taste, and I groaned in agony. A wicked glint lit up her dark eyes.

  "Do that again and I'll show you some different types of sightseeing."

  A low chuckle vibrated from her throat. "Promise?"

  My body locked down to full attention. I playfully grabbed at her but she sprang away, her cheeks red, laughing. "No, no! I want to see Hemingway's house."

  "How about I show you his drinking stool and we retire for the day?" I suggested with a leer.

  "No. It's beautiful out, and we can't waste it."

  "Okay, you win." I grabbed her hand and snugly interlaced her fingers with mine. My spirits lightened and suddenly the day spread out before me in rich promise. "Let's get all the visitor stuff done today so we can relax tomorrow on the boat. What do you want to see?"

  She frowned, obviously thinking hard. "Hemingway's house. The southernmost point. Sloppy Joe's Bar. Jimmy Buffett's house. Glass-bottom boating. Sunset sailing. Drink a margarita at Margaritaville. Oh, and the sunset festival on the pier."

  My mouth dropped open. "Please tell me you're not serious."

  She gave an adorable little pout. "I am. How can I go back home to Chicago and say I've seen nothing?"

  "I'm insulted."

  She laughed. "Well, it's quite impressive and not nothing, but I can't tell people about that!"

  "Hmm, good point. Better get started. We have a torturous day of being tourists ahead of us." I tried to tick down the agenda and figure out the best place to start, but she stopped in her tracks and dug her heels into concrete. "What's the matter?"

  The playfulness disappeared. Her brown eyes turned serious. "You don't have to babysit me today. I mean, we could always hook up tonight."

  Temper reared, but I pushed it back. The idea she thought I looked at her as just a sex toy bothered me. Funny, if she were another woman, I'd dread dragging myself around town when my only purpose was to get her in bed. With Quinn, it was different. I'd go anywhere with her, because her presence made me feel good. But I couldn't dump all that on either of us, so I grabbed her again and kissed her hard enough to make her forget. "I want to be with you." The doubt on her face made me lower my voice and smile. "Besides, I refuse to let you lock me up so you can use me as your sexual slave. I deserve a meal, fresh air, and to be out in public."

  She relaxed and laughed with me. And I kept my promise.

  I showed her everything. We walked around Hemingway's house with a bunch of other tourists, and enjoyed the lush greenery, open balcony, and numerous cats prowling around the property and peering through bushes. Quinn listened intently to the tour guide, seemingly processing the endless information about Hemingway's hobbies, love interests, and extraordinary writing skills. I'd been there many times before, but this time I saw everything through Quinn's eyes. The architecture and presence of such a powerful legend permeated through the space, making me appreciate things I'd never seen.

  We listened to Jimmy Buffett's endless loop of his famous song "Margaritaville," but I learned Quinn was tone deaf and could barely hum the familiar bars without my wincing. She punched my arm and threatened me with her rendition of Adele, so I surrendered and bought her a frozen margarita instead of her usual Sex on the Beach. We feasted on salsa and chips, mozzarella sticks, and fried conch fritters, then moved on to book a reservation for glass-bottom boating.

  "Are we going to see lots of fish?" she asked, craning her neck around the plates of glass set up on the bottom of the boat.

  "Should be decent. I'll point out some to you when we get started."

  I tried not to laugh as she fought off some stranglers who tried to squeeze in her viewing space, until a child wobbled by and gave her a toothy grin. She melted on sight, and ended up helping the baby sit down and cooing at him. She laughed with the mom, and chattered easily. She knew her place in the world at only twenty-one, and radiated an inner light I wished would spill into my own dark soul. But it didn't work that way. My chest tightened with pain, so I excused myself to get a beer and tried to get my shit together.

  The boat slowed and the speaker boomed with information on what types of fish they were currently looking at. I sipped my Coors Light, brooding a bit about our differences, and noticed Quinn was holding her stomach.

  I put the bottle on the bar and walked over. The baby was banging on the glass, distracting the mother, but one look at Quinn told me what the problem was. She was pure green.

  Seasick.

  I gently helped her to her feet and she swayed. "James. I don't feel so good."

  "Aww, baby, you're seasick. Let's go out on the deck so you can get fresh air."

  "I don't get sick," she insisted, but she held tight to my arms and allowed me to lead her out the doors.

  "Take deep breaths, slow and easy. Damn, I should've thought of making you take some anti-nausea medicine."

  "I don't get sick," she said again, but her voice grew faint, and she moaned.

  "Sure, you don't. Probably too busy taking care of everyone else. Let me get you some water. Can you stay here? I'll be right back."

  She leaned over the rail. "Not going anywhere."

  I hid a grin and got water and a bunch of napkins from the bartender. By the time I got b
ack, she was clenching the rails with a death grip. Her jaw worked as if trying madly to hold back from hurling. "Babe, drink some of this. Look out way in the distance, as far as you can see. And breathe deep."

  "Think I'm gonna vomit," she said miserably. "You gotta go."

  "I'm not going anywhere. Drink."

  She gulped in a breath and took a sip of water. Then creased her brows in a fierce frown as she concentrated on the horizon. I stroked her hair and rubbed her back, waiting it out. Finally, her muscles relaxed. "I feel a little better."

  "Good. It should be over soon. I wouldn't advise going back in there. Something about looking at the bottom of the boat as it moves makes a lot of people nauseous."

  She drank some more water and leaned into me. My arms slid around her stomach, and I rested my chin on the top of her head. We finished the boat ride in comfortable silence, until the buzzing of my phone interrupted. I fished it out of my back pocket and glanced at the screen.

  Adam.

  I declined the call and waited to see if he'd text. I hadn't spoken to him or Rich since they promised to stay away from Quinn and me. Probably checking on the stupid bet. I made a mental note to tell them it was officially off, whether or not I'd meet my mentor, but the text threw me off guard.

  Dude, confirming party tomorrow at your house. Invited a bunch of new people. Gonna be epic.

  Shit. I usually held the parties for spring breakers Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday. They were the big events of the week. I thought of the empty conversations, alcohol, and half-naked girls who meant nothing to me. Was I ever gonna stop? Why was I even doing it? I was way past the age for spring break. Hell, most guys my age were digging into a career and planning their futures. Disgust boiled in my gut.

  "What's the matter?"

  Her quiet voice brought me back to the present. "How'd you know?"

  "You got all stiff on me. And not in the good way."

  I laughed and held her tighter. "Adam texted me about a party I'm supposed to throw tomorrow. If I do it, will you come?"

  She shifted her weight and silence settled between us. Uh-oh. "Of course, I'll go." I let out my breath. "I'm just--I'm just not that big into those type of parties." She sounded glum, so I turned her around and forced her to meet my gaze. "I have to tell you something, James."