On Paper (21 page)

I wanted to buy into her words. Part of me wanted to go back and not run out on him that last morning. But it was no use now. What's done was done and I couldn't take any of it back.

And what's more, in my heart, I still believed it had been the right call. I wasn’t cut out to be that girl long-term. Some of us just didn’t have the wings to fly among the clouds. I knew that, and I think Keaton had too.

QUINN WALKING OUT
had been for the best. She had saved me from a mess of complications that I didn’t need, nor did I have time for. Not with my schedule. I knew that. It was the logical choice. It had been the smart choice. Besides, what did I know about relationships? Aside from the fact that I wasn't cut out for them. I didn't need them.

I had a great life. Why would I want to change it? I was surrounded by beautiful women willing and begging to live out some kinky scenario they read about somewhere. I had it made. I did not need, nor did I want, to give that up for the drama and suffocation of monogamy.

So why couldn't I get her out of my head?

Yesterday I bought a bottle of her perfume. I told the sales girl it was a birthday gift for my sister. Really, I just wanted to be able to smell her again. It had been haunting me. It wasn't quite the same straight from the bottle, it lacked her sweetness. There was something about the way it clung to her skin. It wasn't something I could replicate. It was a shame, I missed the smell of her. I missed the taste of her.

It was crazy the way she occupied my brain. She had wrapped herself around my every thought. It was uncomfortable. I needed to shake it off. I needed to, but I didn't really want to. And that was the part that was a complete mind fuck.

I'd been with my share of girls. I'd even had a handful of casual relationships, but nothing had left me feeling this unsteady, this distracted. I wondered if it was just the fact that she'd made the decision. She'd been the one to say that it would only last the week. She'd been the one to sneak out while I was in the shower. She was holding all of the cards. That wasn't something I was used to.

She'd made the call and I'd agreed to it. It had been the perfect set up, one week with an awesome girl, and then everyone goes on with their lives. It should have been a done deal. So why was I still spending quiet moments imagining her legs wrapped around me, or remembering her soft breath on my bare chest as she slept tucked in beside me? Why was I still thinking of questions that I should have asked when I’d had the chance?

I needed to go out. I needed to grab Miles and just hit up a club or something. Get her out of my head and let it all go. I was making the whole thing out to be something it wasn't. Something it never could have been. Something I didn't even want.

Time to stop dicking around and get out of this apartment. On second thought, maybe dicking around was exactly what I should be doing. Get my mojo back. Find my game face and get back to what I was good at.

I picked up my phone and called my brother.

"What's up?" he answered.

"You got plans tonight? I want to go out. I need to clear my head and blow off some steam. You in?" I asked. I was restless, pacing back and forth through the living room.

"Sure, I don't have anything going on. Where do you want to go?"

"Let's go to Crave," I said.

"I'll meet you there, what time?"

I glanced at the clock, it was almost ten. "I'll see you in an hour." I hung up and headed to the bedroom to change. This is exactly what I needed. I was feeling better already.

The cab dropped me off and I found Miles leaned up against the wall outside the club. He gave me a nod and followed me to the door. After paying the cover we moved through the masses towards the bar. The music was loud and throbbing and the lights danced, turning everyone into a kaleidoscope of color.

I came here a lot. The bartenders knew me and the hostess always found us a little spot tucked away where we could scope out the crowds. This is what I’d needed, the familiar.

"So, are you on the hunt this evening?" Miles asked as we slid into the over-sized curved booth. The waitress gave me a smile as she leaned in, flashing her tits.

"The usual?" she purred. It was amazing how she could pull off a sultry whisper and still be heard over the thumping bass. I gave her a slight nod and answered my brother instead.

"We just haven't been out in awhile," I said.

"Not since San Francisco," he said staring out into the crowds gyrating on the dance floor. I growled under my breath, but otherwise ignored his pointed remark. I didn't need his opinions on Quinn. I didn't want to talk about her. I was here to forget.

I leaned back scoping the crowd, looking for a distraction. Judging from the amount of skin I was guessing there was a lot to choose from. The waitress brought us our drinks and I sipped on my whiskey. Miles was on his phone, texting. He made a great wingman. I rolled my eyes and focused in on the hot bodies dancing in front of us. They moved together, sweat soaking their skin as they seemed to vibrate to the beat of the bass.

I zeroed in on one girl in particular, watching as she swayed her hips. She had dark hair and it hung low to her waist in dark waves. Her skin was tanned and on perfect display with her top falling just short of her belly button and her skirt riding low on her hips. She wanted to be noticed and I was noticing. I downed the rest of my drink and got up from the booth. Miles looked up to see where I was going; he'd been so preoccupied with his phone that he had barely noticed anything going on around him.

"I'm going to go dance," I said simply. He knew the drill. He'd wait until I was tangled up with her and then he'd either find his own distraction or he'd head home. We'd played this game many times. Typically he'd be a little more present, but honestly, I didn’t care. I wasn't up for games. I wanted easy. I wanted someone who didn't want my number, wouldn't remember my name and wouldn't be offended when I didn't remember hers. I wanted fast. Meaningless. A release and a purge of all the things clouding my brain.

I sauntered over to the dance floor, weaving my way through the throngs until I reached her. Her eyes locked on to mine and her tongue ran across her swollen lips. I let the music move me and smiled as she closed the space between us. She was beautiful. I didn't even care that she knew it. Like I said, I wanted easy.

"Hi," she mouthed as she ran her hand up my chest. I grabbed her hand and led her deeper onto the dance floor. She was more than willing to go with me. I needed the crowd around me and the all encompassing music to take me under. I didn’t want to think.

She slid her hands across my chest and up around my neck, her fingers finding my hair. She gave me a sultry smile as she swayed her narrow hips, brushing against my cock. I moved with her, falling into habit. She was beautiful, and with the way she moved her body I could only imagine what she could do in the bedroom. I just needed a release. I needed to feel someone around me.

It didn't take long before she was wrapped around me, her body pressed against mine with every movement. I didn't object when her mouth moved across my neck, her tongue darting out to lick the saltiness from my skin. Her mouth felt warm and nice and I closed my eyes to take it in. I wanted to get lost in this stranger, get lost and forget the memories that were plaguing me.

I let her move her body against mine. I let my hands drift over her body and rest on her hips. I let my eyes cling to her cleavage, slick with sweat. I let myself take it further. I was pretty sure she would go home with me if I asked. I was going to ask. I'd take her home and I'd lose myself in the anonymity of a stranger. I'd get my swagger back.

"You want to get out of here?" I asked, my mouth pressed against her ear. She nodded, throwing her practiced sultry gaze up at me. I grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd behind me.

We stood on the busy street, her hand wrapped around my arm as we waited for a cab. I pushed at the uneasiness in my chest as she continued to drop kisses along my jaw.

"Are we going to your place?" she asked. Her voice was high, chirpy almost, and it sounded like nails across a chalkboard. I cringed. "I'd like to go to your place," she clarified, batting her lashes at me.

"Yeah, we'll go to my place," I said. I raised my hand again for a passing cab, but it was late and no one was stopping.

"What's your name anyway?" she asked curiously.

"Keaton," I offered.

"I'm Gwen," she smiled as if it were perfectly natural to be handing out names after we'd agreed to sleep together. My eyes snapped to hers as they looked up at me in that half dreamy, half drunk way that so many girls had this time of night.

I shook my head, because all I had heard was Quinn. Too close. "What's your middle name?" I asked.

"Margaret," she laughed.

"Can I call you Maggie?"

"Baby, if you take me home with you, you can call me anything you want," she cooed. I forced a smile as I looked down at her.

Where was the cab? This was turning out to be more trouble than I was interested in. Gwen Maggie was clinging to me and it wasn’t doing much in the way of getting me geared up. Finally, a car pulled to a stop at the curb. I opened the door for Maggie and slid in behind her. I'd barely given the cab driver my address before she was on me. Her mouth crashed against mine and she damn near had me pushed onto my back. I couldn't even come up for air. She clawed at my shirt and nipped me with her teeth. It should be hot. I should be itching to get her upstairs where we could use each other to chase away ghosts or hunt down a pent up release that had been holding us prisoner. That's how this was supposed to go. Free. Easy. No strings. But as I tried to lose myself in her, in this moment, all I saw were hazel eyes and creamy skin. All I saw was Quinn.

Fuck.

I pulled away from her, blood roaring in my ears as opposed to where it should be. "What's wrong, baby?" she asked. The endearment made my skin prick with unease. I pushed her away, to the safety of her side of the backseat.

"I've changed my mind. I can't do this," I said.

Her sultry demeanor shifted instantly and she glared at me. "What do you mean you can't do this? Can't you get it up, pretty boy?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. She crossed her arms across her chest and waited for a response. I caught the smirk on the cab driver's face. "No, that's not the problem. I just, I thought I wanted easy." I said.

"I am not easy, asshole," she growled. I didn't point out that she'd agreed to go home with me before she'd even known my name. It wouldn't help the situation.

The cab pulled up to the curb outside my apartment building. I pulled out my wallet and gave the cab driver the fare, plus enough to take Maggie wherever she needed to go.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply. What I meant was, I'm already -- involved with someone else. Rather, I've met someone that I want to be involved with. So, yeah. Sorry. It was nice to meet you. Have a good night." I opened the door of the car and shut it, Maggie's mouth still hanging open.

What was wrong with me? I'd turned into some sappy asshole pining away for a girl who had snuck out of my room while I was in the shower. I was pathetic.

I made it upstairs, threw my keys on the side table and then plopped down on the couch. I pulled out my phone, opening up the photos. I scrolled through the few pictures I had of Quinn. She was perfect. I missed her. Like it or not, she'd gotten to me. So much so that I'd turned down an easy orgasm. An orgasm that I so desperately needed.

I pulled up the photo I’d taken of her that morning as she watched the rain and I stared at it for five minutes. Five. I barely recognized myself. I should go to bed. Instead, I pulled up the message screen, her number at the top. My fingers hovered over the keys trying to figure out the best thing to say. The thing that would make her respond, or call me. I would kill to hear her voice right now, that soft sultry tone she got when I was devouring her. Shit, the taste of her skin. I shifted uncomfortably as my dick remembered too. Misery loves company and all that shit.

My fingers hit the keys as I typed quickly. I hit send before I could rethink it and then blew out a breath as it sat staring back at me on the screen.

I wish you were here. I miss you.

I probably shouldn't have sent it. I should have held onto my resolve. But I missed her. I wanted her to call me. She may be across the country, but right now I was pretty sure the sound of her voice and my hand on my cock would get the job done. Just thinking about it had me straining against my jeans.

I waited, anxious for her response. I waited a long time. But there was nothing. Just my poor little pathetic message sitting there all alone talking nonsense. Quinn was a smart woman. A two am text was nothing but a drunken plea. I was an idiot. Now we both knew it.

I let my head fall back onto the couch and groaned into the quiet of my apartment. At least I was still tipsy enough that my foolishness was easier to handle. I had a feeling this would hurt more in the light of day. I wasn't looking forward to that hard dose of reality.