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Though Jean-Paul probably knew how to spank a girl. He’d probably done it dozens of times. Maybe she should call him. Maybe—
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Lori growled. She didn’t evenwantto be spanked. She just wanted to have a spectacular orgasm or two. She wanted spark and sizzle and a whole damn conflagration.
Her life was about to speed past thirty, but a real relationship was out of the question. She might not have a plan to escape her life, but she wasn’t ready to surrender to it completely. Someday she would leave Tumble Creek, find a way to move on. But for right now she wanted…more. Any excuse not to think about her problems.
Instead of worrying, she wanted to be glowing, moaning, panting.Wet.Just like the women in those books.
New shoes definitely wouldn’t do that for her, but it would be a start. A signal that she was ready and willing. And maybe, just maybe, the perfect stranger would come along and coax her to slip those shoes off. Or, better yet…order her to keep them on.
Lori gunned the engine and climbed toward the sky.
* * *
“HI, QUINN,” a voice said from right beside him. Much as he wanted to keep taking notes for his latest idea, Quinn resolutely put the pencil down and turned toward his visitor. When he saw her familiar curly brown hair and green eyes, he smiled.
“Lori!” He pulled her into a hug.
“Oh…Hi!” she squeaked, and Quinn quickly let her go.
“How’ve you been?”
“Good. You know…the same.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her gray coveralls as a gust of wind blew up from behind her. Her curls bounced, tugged by the breeze, and her cheeks turned pinker as he watched.
“Well, you look great. Want a cup of coffee?”
“Um, no, I don’t think so. I’d better just get to work. I got those parts in last night.”
“Come on. Have coffee with me. I feel bad about last time.”
“What about last time?” she asked, though she walked into the cabin when he waved her on. With her hands in the pockets, Quinn noticed the way the baggy coveralls pulled tight across her ass. He was pretty sure he hadn’t seen her in anything but coveralls in the last five years. Maybe ten.
He edged past her to start up the small coffee machine he’d plugged into the generator line. When he spun back toward Lori, she was turning in a slow circle.
“Are you actually living here?”
He glanced toward the bed. “Sometimes.”
Her boots clomped against the scarred wood floor. Quinn looked from the steel-toed leather up to the delicate shape of her face and shook his head.
Lori frowned. “Why are you shaking your head at me?”
“Nothing. Yeah, I’ve been staying up here most of the summer.”
She cast another doubtful look around the tiny one-room cabin. “Where do you keep your suits?”
“Back at my place in Aspen. I head there every morning to shower and dress. The solar water heater isn’t particularly effective after a cold night up here.”
“I guess not! I can’t believe it’s so cold up here in the middle of August. It was nice in Tumble Creek.” She shuddered, eyeing the coffeemaker.
Quinn laughed and grabbed a mug to pour her the first cup.
She glanced out the window. “You must get a lot of bears up here.”
“Bears? I don’t know…”
She waved a hand. “They’re all around here, Quinn. So…what did you mean about being sorry for last time?”
“When you came by to look at the backhoe I was a bit absorbed in my work.”
